Change Of Season

by Dillon, A. C.

  “I’m so sorry,” Emma whispered. “That’s terrible, to lose family like that.”

  “The parade of shrinks began. Depression. Bipolar. Accusing my dad of molesting me – oh that doctor pissed me the fuck off, lemme tell you!” Rolling her eyes, Autumn added, “By the time June hit, I was ready to snap. When Fiona told me they lost him in Montreal, I knew my only option was to get away from everyone I knew. Because he’d be back, that much I knew. She knew it too.”

  Emma leaned forward, passing a box of tissues, “Fiona?”

  “The girl he dated before me.” She blew her nose, bawling the tissue in her lap. “I chose boarding school. I liked Casteel’s gates.”

  “They are rather impressive,” Emma said lightly. “The campus is very safe, Autumn.”

  “I hope so… He’s back in Ontario. Calling Fiona.”

  Emma frowned at this, reaching for her pen. “Is there a restraining order on him?”

  Autumn shook her head. “Not for me. I never told. Fiona has one.”

  “We’ll have to take measures then, just in case he finds out you’re attending school here.”

  “No, you can’t tell!” Autumn bolted upright, shaking her head. “You can’t!”

  Emma sighed. “Autumn, you’re in danger. I don’t have to give anyone details, but I do need to ensure he’s not permitted access to campus. We can chalk it up to harassment and leave it there. Only security and I will know.”

  “No… Just… I want to think.” She drew her knees up to her chest. “It’s my life.”

  “Alright, for now,” Emma acquiesced.

  “I was supposed to be safe here,” Autumn whispered. “Ignored. Quiet. Do my work and go back to my room. But then Veronica had to march on in and complicate things, and Andrew… I can’t. I’m not normal, you know. I didn’t ask for him to be my friend! I didn’t ask for any of them to be there!”

  “People can’t be controlled that way,” Emma stated calmly. “Feelings are involved, and they do what they want. You know this.”

  “Well screw Andrew! What’s he doing chasing after a basket case anyway?” She was shouting now, tugging angrily at her kilt. “And you know, I didn’t ask Veronica to give a damn. She should just go back to her nice, normal friends and forget about me! They ruined everything!”

  “By being your friends.”

  “Yes!” Autumn seethed, tearing up another tissue from the box.

  Emma remained quiet for a minute or two – time sped and slowed at will these days and it was harder to keep track – before finally leaning forward, smiling faintly.

  “It was incredibly brave of you to come in here today and share all this. Thank you for trusting me with it.”

  Autumn shook her head sadly. “I can’t do it alone anymore… My heart hurts. It’s this boulder in my chest, crushing me… suffocating… I can’t.”

  “You’re not alone,” Emma insisted. “You have me. You can also choose to have others help too. Have you told anyone else about what happened?”

  “Just Miraj.”

  Emma nodded. “I know it’s hard to speak of it, but every person who loves you and knows can take a little piece of it for you. Like sharing bags of groceries, right? Tell me, Autumn: how do you feel right now?”

  “Sad… Stupid. Tired.”

  “Do you feel any lighter, now that you’re not holding this secret from me?”

  Autumn shrugged. “Kind of… I’ve been freaking out all week, but it’s done, so that’s not there, I guess.”

  “Maybe you could tell Veronica or Heather?”

  The gears whirred to a slow click-click in her skull. Running on fumes. Resting her head on the arm of the couch, she considered this prospect. Heather knows me best… but her last email was… disconnected. Veronica? Maybe she could… Maybe. It would end their awkward conversations about Andrew for good, if nothing else.

  “Maybe Veronica,” she ceded.

  Emma smiled, leaning back. “Think about it. It’s your choice, and you alone get to decide who to tell and how much. But even letting a little out could be just what you need to move forward.” Glancing at the desk, she sighed. “It looks like our time is up. Will you be okay for class, or would you like to be excused?”

  “I’ll go… Professor St. James is a great distraction on bad days.”

  “The ties?”

  Autumn laughed. “Oh my God, they’re hilarious! You’ve seen the one with little zombies, right?”

  Emma giggled. “He cracks me up. Very good man.”

  Reaching for her backpack, Autumn rubbed her aching eyes. “How bad do I look, doctor?”

  “Nothing worse than a late night cramming session, promise.”

  “Okay.” With a deep breath, she headed for the door. “Next week, I guess.”

  “Be well, Autumn,” Emma replied warmly. “And if you need extra support, call me.”

  “I will.”

  Shutting the door behind her, Autumn paused, steadying herself. She’d done it. She’d actually told her about him. Emma hadn’t judged her, not once. She’d only wanted to help her. Protect her.

  She was worth protecting.

  Tell someone. Another someone. Stepping outside, she bit her lip anxiously. Emma was bound to keep her confidences, but did she dare confess to another? Did she trust anyone with the tatters of her heart?

  Veronica. She’d kept silent about the paranormal predicament she was in. If an admittedly juicy story like that couldn’t break her vows, then maybe Autumn could open up.

  Slowly. One foot in front of the other. Time to fight back, Miraj had said. Time to live.

  ***

  Déjà vu: Veronica sat quietly, crossed legs and hands on knees, meditating on the shaky silence between them. Their respective homework lay abandoned on the twin beds, the room humming with music – Hole, this time. Celebrity Skin, Autumn’s favourite of their discography.

  Just tell her, Autumn berated herself. Just say it. She’d rehearsed this in the mirror twice. It was so simple. Speak.

  “I can trust you to keep something private, right?”

  Veronica nodded. “Of course. You’re my friend. One of my best.”

  Autumn sighed, hugging her pillow to her chest. “I didn’t just come here for the Writing program. I mean, that was a sweet bonus, but it wasn’t the main reason. I… I needed to hide.”

  “Hide?”

  Autumn inhaled deeply, holding her breath for a count of five, as Emma had taught her to do. “I used to date this guy, V. I don’t want to… The details don’t matter. He hurt me. Hit me. And… I wasn’t safe.”

  “Oh, Autumn, I’m so sorry.” Veronica’s eyes moistened. “That bastard.”

  “He killed my dog,” she whispered, cursing herself as tears fell anew. “With a truck.”

  “What? Oh my God, that’s so sick!” Veronica shook her head, leaning forward. “Do your parents-”

  “No, and I don’t… Not now. You have to promise, V.”

  Veronica nodded. “Of course. I promise. Just… that’s so much to handle alone. Is that why you don’t go home?”

  “Kind of,” Autumn replied. “I was enrolled in Behavioural Reform, so there’s a rule about it.”

  “Nothing to be ashamed of,” Veronica said quickly. “You’ve been through hell.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Hug?”

  Autumn nodded, and Veronica sat beside her, hugging her tightly. She was warm, but shaky – trembling. She cared. She believed her.

  “Can I tell you something?” Veronica asked quietly.

  “Sure.”

  Sitting back, Veronica swallowed hard. “I told you on that first day that I study people. Remember?”

  Autumn nodded. “You seemed to look right through me. It was scary.”

  Veronica smiled. “Not scary, just… I saw you the night before classes, out on the quad, and something about how you walked, how you held your body… I could feel the fear. The walls were super-high already. I recognized it. I’
ve lived it.”

  Autumn felt her stomach turn. “Veronica, what do you mean by that?”

  Her friend toyed with the blankets, eyes averted as she began. “I was fourteen, and my friends and I were at this Canada Day party. Huge party – hundred people there, easy. The booze was flowing and I was of course drinking, feeling like a big bad-ass. There was this guy there, Jamie… He was sixteen, or so I remember. Older for sure. My friends and I got separated but Jamie was cute, so I didn’t mind much. He offered to get me another beer and I thought he was a gentleman for it.” Veronica shook her head sadly, her hair tumbling across her cheeks. “Gentleman. Ha. I don’t remember much after that… flashes of dancing, and loud music… His hand under my skirt. My friends came looking for me. I was lucky, my clothes were still on.”

  “Oh shit!” Autumn gasped. “The drink.”

  “The drink,” Veronica echoed. “My friends cabbed me back home, one of them kicking him in the balls on my behalf. But even though they were there for me, I felt different after that. Closed. There was this chasm between us that I couldn’t overcome, and we drifted apart. I only speak to them by email, see them once or twice a year. So when I saw you,” she continued, smiling, “I saw a kindred who needed a friend. Someone who wouldn’t pry. Someone who wouldn’t push me.”

  “You’ve been wonderful,” Autumn said hoarsely. “Safe. I came here wanting to be alone, but you just… You were there, and you belonged.”

  “You belong, too.”

  “Ilse,” Autumn blurted out. “No wonder you pushed so hard to play her.”

  Veronica nodded. “The sexual abuse plot… I needed to channel the lingering pain into art.” With a little shake, Veronica stretched out her legs. “The first time I tried to date again was last summer at Drama camp, but I just… I was too closed off still. I didn’t trust him. He was another near stranger, you know? I took the whole ‘ignored by guys at school’ thing as a blessing after that. Evan was the first guy I liked since Jamie, but I didn’t dare approach him.”

  “But now you’re together.”

  Veronica grinned. “Yes, and I think the years of friendly talk and seeing him date other girls helped. I saw him look after those girls and knew he’d be good to me, if he ever noticed me.”

  “Does he know?”

  Veronica nodded. “I told him after the dance. It was so soon, but we just clicked, and I wanted him to understand that if I flinched, or got nervous, it wasn’t him. He was so kind. He never drinks if I want to.”

  Autumn nodded. “I noticed that the other week, when he brought you back here.”

  “My bodyguard. Cue the Whitney,” Veronica quipped. “Speaking of guys…”

  “Andrew.” Autumn groaned. “I need to get myself together. I can’t go there, not with all of this mess in my head.”

  “It makes sense now. I suspected there was something big behind your sudden dodging, but I didn’t want to pry.” Veronica tapped her fingers on the desk absently, thinking. “He’s really sad. I saw him this morning and he was moping.”

  “I feel like shit about it,” Autumn said. “But I can’t.”

  “I know. It’s okay. I just… He’s your Evan. I see it in him. Which is why I know he’ll wait for you.”

  Autumn flopped backwards, closing her eyes in frustration. “Topic change, please?”

  “Gotcha. What’s the deal with the blogger boy?”

  “He’s meeting me here on campus Sunday,” Autumn replied. “Very paranoid. Says he can sneak onto campus.”

  “You think he’s onto something?”

  Autumn shrugged. “Maybe. It’s worth exploring. I mean, even you said Nikki didn’t make sense… If something is behind it, it could help us help her move on.”

  “True. I’d want to come with you, but I’m home this weekend. I could swing by Sunday night.”

  “Sure.”

  Veronica giggled. “Oh and another topic: you’re signing up for the charity concert.”

  Autumn sat up. “V, seriously?”

  Her friend shook her head, winking. “Not taking any answers that aren’t in the affirmative. Creative Writing needs a superstar duo, and Evan really wants you on tap. You’ve performed before!”

  “Not for a few years.”

  “Well, consider it a comeback! Besides, the money’s going to research for Traumatic Brain Injury. Good cause.”

  Autumn grimaced. Her great-grandfather was a war veteran. How could she ignore a medical nightmare affecting so many soldiers coming home from overseas, let alone cases from accidents here at home?

  “Damn it. I’ll think about it, okay?”

  “Yay!” Veronica clapped excitedly, reaching for her phone. “Evan will be so happy. He wants to do Pink Floyd and you know all the best songs have Waters and Gilmour harmonizing.”

  “I can’t disagree. You’re using my love of music against me, and that’s incredibly cruel."

  The blonde shrugged, smiling. “All’s fair, my dear. And… done! So, shall we take a break? I think I saw another Chip Coffey special in the Paranormal State queue.”

  Autumn laughed. “Alright, load it up. I could use a laugh.”

  She remembered Emma as Veronica clicked and typed, humming cheerfully to herself. Every person who loves you and knows can take a little piece of it for you. She did feel lighter now. She had an ally, a true one who knew her scars and didn’t recoil in revulsion. It was a little less lonely in the darkness now, and it was this glimmer of hope that she sat down to journal about when Veronica bid her goodnight, heading off to pack for her weekend home.

  I confessed today. Bless me, Doctor, for I have sinned. It’s been ten months since my confession to Miraj, who had to be restrained, switchblade immediately in hand. Hail Mary Sunshine, full of torment and fallen from grace.

  Veronica is so strong. I look at her through the lens of her violation, watch her smile and dance, and envy her. She’s found freedom from the shackles of her past. She has a wonderful boyfriend, immense talent, and a good heart. Giving. As often as I rage about how dangerous friendship is for me, I’m grateful she persisted. I need her, more than ever.

  It’s such a tall mountain to climb, this mess of emotion stuck to my shoes. It weighs me down, pulls me back under the surface. Gulped seawater and kelp in my fists. I need a foothold. I need a life preserver.

  Laughter boomed in the quad below and she glanced down, watching several seniors jostle each other playfully. I used to be that girl, she mused. Playful. Light. There were moments now, but they were fleeting – teases of a life that could have been. Should have been, if he hadn’t robbed her blind.

  Could she ever find it again? Her music looped, the same song on repeat for the last half hour. Pretend to be fine, or be alone? It wasn’t a difficult choice, here in suburban isolation.

  She’d never been great at acting.

  Her eyes drifted towards the Media Studies building reflexively, widening as a familiar form in black leather briskly cut across the quad towards Trudeau Hall. Veronica believed he was the one who – like Evan had done for her friend – could restore her faith.

  His eyes cast upwards and she startled as he froze mid-stride. With a sad smile, he pressed onward, head down. Would she ever be ready to trust again?

  “Not yet,” she whispered to the music. “But I want to be.”

  Wait for me.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Oakville; December 4th, 2011

  They’d agreed to meet on the second floor of the library near the Criminology stacks at precisely one, and it was there Autumn now paced. Every creaking step or cough drew her attention and it was exhausting. After weeks of fear, her body was tapped out from adrenaline surges and her inability to stomach more than one meal each day. Veronica had left her a bottle of multivitamins before heading home, adamant that she take them every day to keep her body healthy.

  “I understand why it’s hard right now, but you need to stay strong. Drink calories. Take these. Rest.”

  She was
trying. She was failing miserably, but no one could deny her a gold star for effort. Taking another gulp of her orange juice, she tapped her foot impatiently. Where is he?

  “Autumn?”

  She jumped, a nervous squeak slipping out before she noticed the man tucked behind the stacks. He was already here, she realized. Why hadn’t he said anything sooner? Ticked off, she glowered at her visitor, finding the black hood over a black ball cap to be paranoid overkill.

  “Figured it might be you, but wanted to be sure,” he said quickly. “I have a table.”

  Without awaiting her assent he spun around, darting towards the study rooms in the far corner of the floor. Normally, these required a reservation from a student, which only added to her confusion. Had he lied? Was he a current student after all? Zigzagging between the shelves, she dutifully followed him into the third room, tossing her bag on the table next to his backpack. He shut the door and settled reluctantly into the chair opposite hers.

  “We have thirty minutes,” he said. “It was all I could arrange.”

  “Do you go here?” Autumn asked.

  He shook his head, removing his hood and cap. “Used to. Graduated four years ago. My buddy’s little brother reserved the room.” With a deep breath, he leaned back, studying her intently. “So you read the blog?”

  Autumn nodded. “I found it linked to the paranormal group’s site.”

  “I was the one that got them into the tunnels,” he disclosed. “I had a lot of access back then.”

  “Good at picking locks?”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “Didn’t need to. I worked in the Admin offices. It’s not hard to swipe the spare keys, even the filing cabinet ones. Casteel’s a little too trusting at times.”

  Autumn frowned. “That’s not very reassuring.”

  “Most of the students are too busy making out behind buildings to bother with heavy stuff. I wouldn’t worry that much. Besides, I had my reasons.”

  His hair was bottle-blonde, tipped in blue. University, maybe? Not many employers would dig this look for entry-level. For all of his suspicions and jittery hands, he seemed nice enough. His ability to sneak on campus made far more sense now, in light of his past at Casteel.