I grabbed some clothes from my closet and entered the bathroom to change. I could hear them talking through the door. Karen was telling Minnie about her embarrassing day.
When I exited the bathroom, Minnie whistled. “Wow, you look nice.”
I mumbled a thank you and tossed my dirty laundry onto a heap of clothes in the back of my closet. Sooner or later, I would have to venture to the basement to do my laundry. Or perhaps I should just buy new clothes. But wait, I had to pay for therapy.
“So do you have a hot date with a man tonight?” Karen teased.
“Nope. Do you?”
She stuck her tongue out at me. Karen has never had a boyfriend. I found this hard to believe. She was good-looking and funny. I thought a lot of guys would like to hang out with her. Maybe her farting turned people off. Did guys like a girl who farted more than them?
I snatched my car keys from my desk. “I’m heading out of town to see a friend. I’ll be back later this weekend.” I looked over my shoulder to spy Minnie and Karen exchange quizzical glances. I chuckled quietly after closing the door. They knew something was up, and it was killing them. I bet they would toss my room in search of answers. Go ahead, girls. You won’t find anything. I’ve had years of experience at hiding.
Chapter Eight
The drive down to Jess’s was uneventful. I drove like a demon—fast. The roads weren’t crowded though, so I didn’t get a chance to weave in and out of traffic at breakneck speed. I loved that rush, almost clipping someone’s bumper, cutting them off so I could get in front, using the emergency lane to pass stalled traffic. When other drivers flipped me the bird, I laughed. Like that was going to change my driving habits. Oooh—I’m scared! Screw off, jack off, and learn how not to drive like a grandma.
I arrived at the restaurant before Jess: typical Type A behavior. I was obsessed with time management. I didn’t like people waiting for me. Worse, I hated waiting for others, but since I always arrived ridiculously early, I spent a lot of time waiting; hence, I always carried a book with me. I had developed the habit years ago. Reading always gave me comfort. It was a way to get away from me. Just another way to escape, to disappear.
“Wow, I thought I was early.” Jess slid into the chair opposite.
“You are.” I glanced at my watch. “Ten minutes.” I noticed Jess wince when she saw the scar on my wrist, but she quickly plastered a smile on her face.
“I’m not sure I want to know how long you’ve been here.” She gestured to my novel: Rebecca. “Hopefully, you didn’t drive anyone off the road today trying to prove you’re Mario Andretti’s daughter instead of Mr. Alexander’s.”
“No reason to fret. Traffic was oh-so boring today. I didn’t get to cut off one single person. Pretty much a straight shot, and no weaving in and out.” I pouted.
“That’s a relief to the rest of us, but I’m sure it drove you batty.”
“Listen, smartass, it’s nice to see you.” I smiled.
“All right, truce. And it’s nice to see you too, sweetheart.”
Jess reached under the table and squeezed my hand. She was completely comfortable with showing affection in public; I wasn’t. I didn’t care what others thought. I cared whether or not they knew my parents. My mom once said that all homos needed a bullet in the head. And not as a joke. She didn’t deal in jokes, only in “facts,” like Mr. Gradgrind from Dickens’s Hard Times.
Damn, why didn’t I think of that last May! Instead of slitting my wrists, I could have said, “I’m gay!” and then just waited for the bullet. Of course it wouldn’t be that simple. Not with her.
“Did you order yet?” Jess’s voice brought me back to the present.
I shook my head. “I haven’t lost all of my manners yet. Besides, isn’t college supposed to refine me and not turn me into an uncouth slob?”
“Who knows, with you? You don’t actually follow the rules do you? And slob is your middle name.” She sipped her water in an exaggerated dignified manner—pinky finger out.
“You’re feeling spicy tonight. I like it.”
“I’ve had a good day. A very good day.” Jess glowed.
“Are you two ready to order?” The waitress flipped open her notebook and tapped her foot, waiting for me.
“Sure, I’ll have the fillet. Rare, please.”
“Make sure the cow is still mooing.” Jess teased. “I’ll have the chicken Caesar salad.”
The girl waddled off, and I turned my attention back to Jess. “So, are you going to share the juicy tidbits? Or do I have to force it out of you?”
“I got into the MBA program!” She could barely contain her excitement. She practically bounced in her chair.
“Congrats, Jessica.” I squeezed her leg under the table.
Jess was older than me and had finished college early when I was still finishing high school. I know. Gross. But it never felt that way. I’d never felt at ease with kids my own age. They were immature and they cared too much about the little things in life. I’d learned long ago that the little things didn’t matter. Surviving mattered.
We didn’t have sex for quite some time when we first started dating, and I kept the relationship pretty quiet. I still do. Not one person at my high school knew about Jess. I didn’t go to the prom or to any other dances. If I went to a football game or movies with friends, Jess stayed at home. Everyone teased me that I was a prude, but little did they know that I lived with Jess all through my senior year. My parents never cared to check on me. You have to care about someone to bother prying into their life. As long as I stayed out of my parents’ way, and out of jail, they didn’t bother keeping tabs on me. Oh, and I had to get good grades. That wasn’t hard for me. I wasn’t a rebel. For me, staying at Jess’s apartment wasn’t wrong. I wanted to be around someone who loved me, and it felt like a home to me. I don’t remember that feeling during my childhood.
I gazed into Jess’s emerald eyes. “So, you’re one step closer to conquering the business world. What should we do to celebrate?”
“I was hoping you would ask. There’s a Spanish movie I want to see at The Esquire.”
My face must have showed my distaste.
“Don’t start with me, missy,” she said, waggling a finger at me. “You chose the last movie, and I didn’t complain one bit.”
“Come on, Basic Instinct will be a classic. How can you not love that movie?”
“I’m just not into Hollywood films. Too predictable.” She pointed to my novel. “Now that book has suspense. And Mrs. Danvers is creepy.”
Jess had bought the book last week and mailed it to me. That was her idea of a care package. Enrichment for the mind, she calls it.
“Predictable. The ending of Basic Instinct threw me completely. Did she? Didn’t she?” I wiggled my head side to side for emphasis.
“That wasn’t all that suspenseful. Rear Window—now that’s a great thriller.” She pointed her fork at my face.
“What?” I threw my hands up. “Do you only like black and white films or foreign films? Is tonight’s Spanish flick a who-dunnit?”
“Nope. It’s a love story.”
“Love story!” Heads turned in our direction, and Jess giggled.
I whispered, “Oh, you’re going to pay for this one, Jessica McCrae.”
How did this amazing woman love me? She was going places in life. She had finished college in record speed, landed a great internship during her last year, and now she would be starting her MBA program next fall. She was educated, cultured, fun, witty, and intelligent. I looked down at my wrists.
“Uh-oh, you’re getting that faraway look again.” Jess snapped her fingers in my face and flashed me a confident smile. “You okay?”
I brushed my thoughts aside. “Me? Okay? Of course.” I let out a nervous chuckle. “Here comes our food. Now, time me.” I glanced at my watch. “I bet I can scarf all of my meal down, have time for dessert, and still make it to your cheesy movie.”
“You’ll get a b
ellyache. And I know you’ll get more sweets at the theater.”
“You can’t watch a movie without Junior Mints. It’s the law, Jess.” I tucked a napkin into my shirt. From the looks of the steak, it was bloody as hell.
“I don’t remember studying that law in my business law class.” She forked up a dainty portion of her salad.
“And they let you into an MBA program. What is the world coming to?” I joked, and started carving into my steak.
“Not to ruin your good mood, but how is therapy so far?”
I continued chewing an extremely large piece of steak. Ever since I was a kid, I had never consumed petite bites. It was all or nothing for me. While chewing, I tried to think of something clever to say. I wanted to tell her that I’d used her dog-on-a-nail story and that Liddy ate that shit up. The old Jess would have gotten a kick out of me using the story and having a therapist taking the bait. But the new Jess, the one after the bathtub incident, probably wouldn’t find it funny.
Finally, when I couldn’t come up with anything clever, I mumbled, “Its fine,” with my mouth full of steak.
“Is that all you’ll say?”
I swallowed too quickly, and then punched my chest with a fist to force a chunk of half-chewed steak down. After a sip of my iced tea, I added, “It won’t be easy, Jess. But I’m going to give it the good ol’ fashioned college try.” I gave a Boy Scout salute.
“I hope you take more time in therapy than you do chewing your food. Do they have any manners courses up there?”
I scanned her face. She was only half joking. “You’re a funny lady.”
“You know I support you, Paige.”
“I know, Jess. I really do.”
* * *
When I got back to my dorm room, the three stooges were there. Fortunately, after my marvelous weekend with Jess, I was in a decent mood. Minnie wasn’t. She was crying, and Karen was patting her on the back. Jenna the jock looked distressed over Minnie showing her feelings. I was starting to like Jenna more and more.
“Hello,” I whispered. I set my bag down and slipped quietly into the room.
“Hi,” Karen replied.
I watched for a few seconds and then motioned to Minnie, whose head was buried in her arms, elbows on her desk.
“She had a blowup with her boyfriend on the phone.” Karen filled me in.
“Oh…I’m sorry to hear that.” I didn’t want to hear the details of the fight, though. Young lovers and their squabbles got on my nerves quickly.
“She wants to see him, but she doesn’t have a car. Jenna’s car broke down today, so she can’t borrow it.” Karen was full of information.
Jenna avoided all eye contact. I sincerely doubted that her car had happened to break down on the same day Minnie had asked to borrow it. My gut told me that Jenna didn’t lend her car to anyone, probably not even her mom.
I walked up to Minnie and handed her my car keys. “You can take my car if you want. You might have to get gas, but don’t feel like you have to fill it up all the way.”
The three of them stared at me. I don’t think any of them had expected that. Minnie wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “You really mean that?”
“Of course.”
She jumped out of her chair and hugged me, and I noticed she needed a shower. When she went straight to the bathroom to get spruced up for Jeff, the boyfriend, I was relieved, although part of me wanted to remind her to comb her hair.
“You see, Paige, I’m starting to figure you out.” Karen beamed.
The only way I could ever manage to hurt my parents was through their pocketbook. If Minnie wrecked my car, they would have to buy me a new one to keep up their image. It wouldn’t do to have their darling daughter without a car—a nice car. It wasn’t like I wanted Minnie to get killed or anything, but some serious damage to the car would be good. Lately, I had been looking for ways to make my parents suffer with little consequence for me.
“You think so, Karen?” I crossed my arms.
“Yep. You do have a heart.”
That made me smile. Minnie emerged from the bathroom, and I told her which parking lot the car was in. The lot in front of our dorm was always packed, so usually I had to hike halfway across campus to retrieve my car.
She gave me another hug. “Thanks, Paige. I really appreciate this.”
“Drive safe and take care of Junior Mint.”
“Junior Mint?” inquired the grinning Karen.
“That’s the name of my car. It’s green, and I love Junior Mints.”
“I’m blown away. I’m learning so much about you tonight. You, Paige, actually named your car. That’s kinda cute.”
Jess had named the car, actually. Watching Karen gloat about her new insight tempted me to tell her the truth, just so I could pull the rug right out from under her. Yet, I relished the thought that she believed she was “getting to know me,” when in fact she knew nothing at all. Good!
Chapter Nine
After the first week of classes, my nerves started to settle somewhat. I no longer dreaded going to lectures and seeing so many unfamiliar faces. In fact, I found that I liked being around so many people I didn’t know and probably would never know. Those people never asked personal questions, so I wouldn’t be forced to lie to them. It was a freeing feeling.
One part of my new life that I hadn’t yet adjusted to was Liddy. Jess had made it damn clear I could not slouch on my promise. I was told—no, ordered—not to just go through the motions, but to try. To really try. She hadn’t told me how to do that, though. People are good at giving advice, but not on giving a step-by-step, how-to guide. I wanted a procedure, something that would fix my problem. How did I repress the urge to kill myself? Step one…? Why can’t there be a step-by-step program? Don’t drunks have a program? I wanted a program.
The afternoon was beautiful. Puffy marshmallow clouds floated through the cerulean sky. Birds chirped. Squirrels scampered about, chattering at passersby. I felt a strong urge to jump in my car and head toward the canyon to hike.
Instead, I was sitting in Liddy’s office, waiting. She walked in two minutes late—not bad, for her. I elected not to give her a hard time. After all, it had backfired before.
“How have you been since our last meeting?” Her words felt hollow to me.
“Fine.”
She turned around and headed toward her desk. Her hair covered half of her face, but from the part I could see, she wasn’t pleased with my reply. Liddy set her bag down and picked up the usual from her desk: pencil and notepad.
I was starting to loathe the pencil and notepad. What the fuck did she need them for?
She perched herself in the chair opposite and fussed with her blazer. I preferred her in jeans and a sweater, but I didn’t think I really got a say.
Had she forgotten I was there? I opted to stay absolutely still.
As she adjusted her shirt, she asked, “What would you like to talk about today?”
Why couldn’t she provide the blueprint for me? If I knew what was wrong with me, then I would fix it. I can be a rational person. Her question angered me, so I decided to be annoying. “The birds and the bees.”
“Maybe next time, even though I think that would be an interesting discussion to have with you.”
What in the hell did she mean by that? If I were braver, I would have asked. But I was logical, not brave. I didn’t like people making assumptions about me, yet letting people make assumptions helped me stay hidden.
I inspected my shoes, making sure my laces hadn’t magically untied themselves. Just to be sure, I tightened the knots.
“You mentioned last week that you aren’t close to your father.”
“Correct.”
“Would you like to elaborate?” She attempted a coaxing smile. Did another one of her suicidal patients attempt to kill themselves? Was that why she was in a crap mood?
“We lived in the same house—that was our only connection.”
She t
apped her pencil, but showed no emotion. “And that doesn’t bother you.”
I sighed. “You get used to it. I’ve had seventeen years to realize that he doesn’t love me. He never wanted me. He’s made that clear. Over the years, I’ve watched him torture my mother, me…not sure how he feels about Abbie, though. I grew to hate him. Now…I don’t know. I don’t like him, but hate…I prefer to ignore the fact that he’s my dad. I’m tired. Tired of hating. Now, I avoid. When I still lived at home, I could go for days and not see him once. I’ve turned avoiding my father into a game.”
“And how do you know he feels this way about you?”
“Oh, he doesn’t mince his words. And his actions—well, they don’t lie either.” I crossed my arms and slunk down further into my chair.
“How do you mean?”
I closed my eyes, trying to eradicate one particular image, but couldn’t. I wished I had a delete button on my brain. I hated feeling normal and then—BAM!—a picture floating before my eyes taunted me, lured me back.
“A few years after the Lego incident, my mother had surgery. After surviving those years, I thought nothing could destroy her. I thought her surgery would transform her into a superhero. I put a lot of hope into that thought. I wanted my mom back.
“I blamed the Lego incident just as much as everyone else. My memories of her before were gone. All I remembered was the mean mom. In my head, I pictured a sweet, doting mother. The Lego had ruined it all. All of it.” I jumped out of my chair. Being cradled in the arms of the chair felt like an abomination.
“I think wolves would have done a better job of raising me after the incident. My parents…”
Liddy followed my eyes up to the ceiling. Above us, people were going about their normal business, preparing for weekend frivolity. Down in the bowels of the building, clients like me were ripping their souls out, piece by piece. Hacking at them, hoping they might rejuvenate. But I had zero hope. All of this was pointless.
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