“Avery Lockhart. She’s a princess.”
“Hmm… Sounds like you.”
I laughed at that. “She’s nothing like me.”
“Defensive much?”
“I wanna see you,” I said. It’d been days since we last…
“I can’t. I’ve got a thing.” Saying you have a thing was code with Nat for saying I’d rather not.
“You’re avoiding me,” I noticed.
“Why would I do a silly thing like that?”
“I dunno,” I said. “To hurt me. Make me want you more. You know I’m a mess.” Though she couldn’t see me, I felt embarrassed and ran a hand through my hair.
“I do,” she said. But she sounded happy about that and it scared me.
“I miss touching you,” I confessed softly, almost whispering. Asking for things had always been hard. It was simple with her. She made it that way. There was no hope for a future and honestly no want for one. Strictly momentary, that’s all we were. We were nothing alike. But she was hot and I was needy that way. For her I would beg. She did things for me. Did things to me. Begging was the least I could do.
I didn’t want to go home to my giant empty mansion of a house. Not when I could be in some small room somewhere with Nat, all covered in sweat and tasting her while loud music thumped on all around. Not when I could lose myself and actually let myself feel something I wanted for at least two seconds out of my miserable fucking day.
Nat normalized me. And up until recently she’d been okay with our arrangement. Something was changing though. A shift in the wind. Tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I just knew.
“I think we need a break,” Nat said.
“A break? For what?” Ever since we met, all we ever did was flirt and fuck. There wasn’t much talking. That’s how we started. Why would anything need to evolve?
“You’re too secretive. Too shy. It’ll never work Livia. You can’t even hold my hand when we’re outside. You can’t even be next to me in public without freaking out and having to go.”
“I thought you said that was perfect?” Her Mom didn’t want her to be some lesbian model. She wanted the star treatment for her: lead roles, lots of men. Nat was homeschooled. I wasn’t. I thought she wanted a silent partner in crime, a stress reliever, a willing sex slave, on call, ready and willing. In private, of course. Only ever by the cover of walls.
“You’re fine,” she said. The word scratched at my eardrum. Fine was never a compliment. And other people would never use that word to describe me. “But you’re not brave enough. Look, I like fucking you but I’m getting bored, I need someone brave.”
My heart thumped in my chest. I felt dizzy and weak. I’d had two hard blows today. I let my hand fall down onto my seat. My thumb tapped down on the end-call button and I felt a heavy sense of sadness from deep within.
Even Nat wanted more from me. Nat who had boyfriends on the side and girlfriends too. Nat who I’d given no real restrictions and simply asked to use me every now and then and use me in such an intimate way that it could only ever boost her confidence while she had me undone.
Currently, I didn’t much like myself. I didn’t much like my life. In fact, I hated it. I was nothing more than a caricature of someone who could someday be real. I was living, breathing, and talking, but I wasn’t allowed to feel or do the things that I wanted to do. All for fear. All for others. Now that I was coming into adulthood I was given such freedom. But I still felt that noose tight around my neck. My parents, hovering off to the side, watching, just waiting for me to misstep.
I’d gotten to a point in my life where I just didn’t fuck up anymore. I just didn’t. I did everything they wished, everything they dreamed, and all my secret self I kept hidden or pushed away.
Until Nat...
I shut my eyes. When they opened again they burned with tears I’d been fighting off. As much as I hated to admit it, I felt that conversation coming from Nat. I felt it coming for miles and days, like a storm growing and building; a volcano just about to erupt. I just knew.
I was too needy and she wanted more from me than I could give. I was the one who continued to say no.
Out in the distance I could make out a familiar shape. Again my eyes were taken just like my control. It was a girl, my age. Blonde hair. Amazing body. She seemed upset or maybe just hurried. As she came closer I knew, without a doubt, that it was Avery.
I stared on, watching her. The closer she came the more upset she seemed.
Strange that she should be so unwound. I was pretty sure she’d won our little meeting of the minds and that wasn’t too long ago. I’d ran out like a scared stupefied child.
Besides all that, at our meeting, she was detached. Not exactly bothered. Not exactly prone to agitation.
I began to wonder what could’ve happened in the time between our interview and now. What could’ve happened to upset her? Perhaps she had a Nat?
Walking on, unaware of my musings, she came alarmingly close but she didn’t see me. I watched her fight with her car and then throw herself inside.
Those eyes of hers, right now they were sad and addicting. And I noticed her lips, without my willing them to, my fingers had come up and touched my own.
My world was shaken though when she did something unexpected. She was just sitting there, stewing, and all of a sudden she used both of her palms to hit her steering wheel hard three times in a row. So much anger. So much strength.
So beautiful...
She looked up right after. Irrationally, I thought maybe she heard my thoughts again. I winced a little at the harshness of the suggested possibility of intrusion. I could've easily been caught and I’d deserve that. She wasn’t seeing me though, she was looking just to the right. She was somewhere else completely, somewhere off in her head. I knew that feeling, I saw, I knew it far too well.
She was just like me, walking while drowning; a caricature…
Like me, she was secretly delicate. Fully formed, yet, so near an illusion. Tangible and normal, yet, wearing thin. No more than a paper doll...
The rush of her engine enveloped my ears as her car started up and drove off leaving me lonely. It occurred to me then. People like us? We tear easily. Just always in private. Our stories are ours and ours alone. Other people just don’t notice, they can’t see.
Until now, I’d never once imagined her unhappy. How strange, the way we see others before we know. I thought she had the world on invisible strings, that she could move it and shake it, cause it’s players to dance just in her time.
That had been wrong, obviously. Her parents were choosing not to love her and someone else here had been purposely hurting her too.
I realized my heart was beating super-fast and I was lightly holding my chest as if I’d been physically struck by someone or something just now.
Soon as I noticed, I dropped my hand and let out a long breath I must’ve been keeping inside.
My eyes trailed off into the distance. Then I caught a glimpse of something else I hadn’t planned to be seeing.
All that time I’d been sitting, I thought maybe I’d apologize to Avery when she came out to leave. Maybe I’d be calm enough then. Something about her just paralyzed me again.
And now I was here, all alone only not.
Mr. Bradford was leaning on the chain-link fence just staring off at Avery’s car as it drove out of sight.
It was weird. He seemed dreamy, contemplative. He seemed like a man who had just had an encounter with that mystery of a girl.
I stared and watched as he hung his head and walked out to his car. He kicked the dirt and seemed happy like he had somewhere to go, a person to maybe see.
The oddest thing. Somehow he didn’t look like my Teacher, or even my Benjamin Bradford, anymore. Somehow he looked different, like a teenage boy. I could see him younger, different mannerisms, different thoughts. The way he walked and acted so candidly, it opened my eyes.
Alone in the parking lot, he may as well just be
some kid leaving practice. I don’t even know how to explain it, it was like his attitude changed and I was seeing him for who he really was for the very first time. Persona-wise, he was stripped down and bare-naked.
I’d never thought of him that way before. He was always so good at making us all think he was old enough for his job, mature enough, responsible enough never to cross any lines. With me especially. We had something; a chemistry. We spent a lot of time alone, talked a lot in private, did things a Teacher and student just shouldn’t do. But I trusted him. God, I trusted him.
Until now...
His dress shirt was unbuttoned and I could see the shape of his chest beneath a plain white see-through under-shirt.
I’d never seen him so unguarded, so raw.
His manner. Even after all our time, he’d never invited me to see this Ben. Or maybe I just hadn’t noticed in the small moments before. I saw too much now, enough to unsettle me.
Mr. Bradford had always been that sexy older male. That one Teacher who was different than the rest. He was the guy I could talk to. The man I did trust.
What would Avery have to talk to Mr. Bradford about? She didn't take any of his classes. Not this year at least. I mean, I, of all people, would know. Not only did he like me, I was in two of his classes and I helped him grade a lot of his papers. We talked alone all the time. Why would he be watching her?
The more I thought about it, the more I knew I needed to know. Questions like this could become just like a cancer cell; one led to the birth of another until it was a complex sickness, a large and debilitating cloud, carrying weight, weighing heavy on the body and mind.
Why was Avery upset?
Why was Mr. Bradford slowly following her?
I blinked, snapping out of my head. In the time it took me just to wonder all of these things, Mr. Bradford had started up his Camaro and gotten inside. I could hear his loud music even through my closed door. An urge took hold of me, a curiosity I needed to quench. I sat up on alert and got ready in case I’d need to make a move.
A long while passed. My form stiff in my chair, my eyes peeled, my hands ready.
I watched his car idle, watched the way he fiddled about inside almost giddy about something he had obviously never talked to me about. He made a call, not too long. I stared on and wondered if he had seen my car, if this was all some little game. My lights weren’t on and I was hidden amongst some others but I could see him so I knew if he wanted to he could assume I was waiting. It would be just like Ben to play a little game with me. We’d had our on-campus games before, our hide-and-seek, cat-and-mouse. It’s hard to explain.
For a long time we’d treated each other as sort of soulmates in a barren landscape; always thinking too much and barely speaking on it, avoiding that thing. It was never about ages or what was inappropriate or not. I don’t know...
I watched and I waited, thinking only about whether or not this was an intentional test. He’d been the one to assign me this task; to investigate Avery. He knew I was good for it, that I’d do what he said. If our places were reversed, Ben would do the exact same. I know that to be true. He’d confided in me on matters like this all the time.
Without much thought, or really knowing why, as Ben’s car slowly rolled out of the parking lot I decided to follow him and find out a little more.
I felt an itch in my throat as I tightened my hands on the wheel. More than anything I wondered if what I was thinking could really be true. All my thoughts about Natalie took a backseat. I thought of Avery now, Avery Lockhart, and what she might be doing with Benjamin Bradford, after school, all alone. Why would Ben want me to find out?
If it was all true I didn’t like it. But I wanted to see. I needed to see it, to know what it meant, how to feel. I didn’t like a secret so big but I couldn’t take not knowing. I needed this now.
Chapter Six
Avery
It was twenty minutes later when I got his text. I was in my room, trying to work up the energy to get out my books when I saw the notification flash. I guess it could have been someone else but I knew Ben would have texted me by now. I was kind of surprised he’d waited so long. I rolled over on my bed to grab the phone. I put in my pin and pulled up the message.
Ben: Come to the door.
I scrambled up, panic gripping me. He was at my house. I’d never let him come here before. It was just strange to think of him being in my private space. At school it was easy. We both held that territory. His house was where we usually went if we weren’t there. Here though, it made my legs shake to think of him so near. This part of my life was not a place where I invited him.
My room faced the street and from my double window I could see out and check. The streetlight down the road illuminated the asphalt and concrete. There, on the corner, I could see his obvious yellow car. He was looking out the window, waiting for me to notice him.
I tried to pull back before he saw me but he’d been ready. With a quickness I’d rarely seen from him, as soon as he saw me, he was out of the car and making his way up to the front door. If he rang the doorbell it probably wouldn’t wake my mom but I couldn't take that chance. I rushed for the stairs, taking them so quickly that I nearly tripped.
When I got to the bottom I could see the top of his head in the little window above the door. We never used the porch light so there was no shadow and no chance that anyone could see Ben’s face well enough to identify him. Unless they got close, really close.
I yanked the door open to find him grinning, hands in his jacket pockets. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I said the words in a hush, like shouting in whispers.
“I wanted to see you.” He shrugged and pursed his lips, eyes full of expectations. “You gonna invite me in?” He craned his neck to look past me into the dark living room. I thought then of vampires. “I’ve never seen your place,” he said.
I gripped the doorknob hard and fought the urge to slam the door right in his face. “This is not okay!” I looked around, sticking my head just past the door frame. “What if someone sees you?” I was starting to sound really crazy.
“No one’s going to see anything.” He looked so nonchalant, unconcerned for his reputation or his livelihood. He usually got what he wanted and he was obviously used to it. The good looks, the smarts, they got him pretty far before he had to start working for it. “Come on, let me in.”
He tried to push past me. “Is your mom home?”
I pushed my body into his, backing him out onto the porch and closing the door behind me. The door clicked shut louder than I wanted. My hand was on his chest and he let me push him back. “Are you crazy? Of course she’s here and if she sees you?”
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to think of what I could do to get him to leave. All this was too much. He was getting too close, too cocky. I blinked, looking around for the words I needed and not finding any. “Come on,” I breathed, taking his hand and pulling him down the steps.
I tried to let go of his hand but he tightened his grip. My head swiveled around, trying to spot anyone who could be out. I sighed and waited for him to hit the unlock button on his key fob. Aside from a few extra parked cars, the street looked deserted. For once, I was happy to live in suburbia, where everyone was inside by seven pm.
We drove to the next street over. There was this little diner that we’d found one night when there was nowhere else to go. No one knew us there. The people that frequented the place where truckers and locals. Not once had we seen anyone remotely familiar.
Inside the smell of fried food and bad coffee hit me. My mouth watered and I remembered the forgotten sandwich that I’d left on my bed back at home. We sat at our usual booth. The last one along the row. There were no windows here in the corner and we were sort of hidden from the entryway. I’d been silent for the drive. Trying to decide what I could even say to him.
Even he knew better than to talk when I was in this kind of mood. I don’t like being mad but it seems like deep down I alway
s am. I try not to let it come to the surface but it’s there if I reach for it. I can feel the fire. Sometimes it just happens, all of the sudden I want to throw things at the walls and scream until I have no voice.
Right now, I just want to go somewhere far away and never come back. “What were you thinking?” I lowered my voice as the waitress came over but I know she heard me anyway.
“Two coffees, water, and two number five combos: one eggs over easy and the other scrambled.” He ordered for both of us while I bit the inside of my lip to choke down a bitter laugh. When the waitress was gone he focused on me, joining his hands together on the table in front of us.
“I was thinking that I wanted to see you.” He blinked and smiled that perfect smile, revealing perfect teeth. He knew I hated this. “And you’ve been blowing me off.”
“I have not,” I shot back. My messy hair fell over my face as I looked down at the table. “I’ve been busy. And since when do we spend every moment together?” His smile grew. He was loving this and it was killing me.
“That’s not my fault,” he said.
The perfect excuse was all set up. I slid a sugar packet over, twisting it between my fingers. I brought it to my lips, liking the way the paper stuck to the dampness on my skin. “You’re not my boyfriend. I don’t owe you anything.” The words fell flat off my tongue.
He chuckled, spreading his hands out like he was pushing the words back at me. “I might as well be.” He rubbed the bit of scruff on his chin that came from two days without shaving. “I could be.”
I shook my head, looking toward the wall beside me for answers. “What if I don’t want you to be?” I narrowed my eyes and looked up, staring him down. “Maybe I’d rather be alone.” His offer was born of something darker. Some desire that I couldn’t understand. I still don’t know why he wanted me to begin with.
Why would he risk his career for a chance to be with me? Hot? Sure. Special? Not really.
My looks weren’t that special. You could find prettier girls, smarter girls, less broken girls. “Why me?”
Paper Dolls, Book One Page 3