Mistrust

by Margaret McHeyzer

  Now it’s half time, and there’s a charity auction to raise money for a shelter in the area that houses women and children fleeing domestic violence situations. It’s all small things, like double movie passes, dinner at local cafés and restaurants and even a few brand name clothing pieces. All in all, it’s crazy and fun.

  “It’s a good idea, what the school’s doing. It brings attention to things we wouldn’t usually think about. Like domestic violence,” Sophie says. “I mean it’s good to start at this level, so we’re aware of it.”

  “Do you know anything about it?”

  “Unfortunately I do.”

  Crap, it’s not the answer I was expecting. “Sorry,” I say awkwardly, not really knowing what else to say.

  “My mom was beaten really badly by my dad until he was arrested.”

  “He was arrested for beating your mom? Holy shit.” I look away, because well, just because.

  “Nope, my dad wasn’t arrested for beating my mom. He was arrested for an armed hold-up. Beating my mom was something he did all the time, but Mom never wanted to say anything because she was scared she wouldn’t be able to look after me on her own. So she stayed and never did anything about it. But when Dad was arrested for the hold-up, it was a godsend for us. We packed up and moved here. Mom even found the courage to get a divorce. We’ve had to change our names and everything so he doesn’t find us, but things are better now.”

  “Oh my God,” I say looking at Sophie. “That’s got to be horrible.”

  “We’ve been here for three years. It wasn’t good walking on eggshells around my own home. You know, before Dad was arrested, I’d hate going home. I’d do everything I could to stay away.”

  “It must be nice to feel safe.”

  Sophie’s head whips to the side. Her right eye twitches as her lips turn up in a wry and hurt smile. “Safe is subjective, Dakota. There’s pain everywhere. Even when you think you’re out of danger, it has a way of finding you.”

  My gut wrenches as every hair follicle on my arms stands to attention. My palms become sweaty, just from the way Sophie’s looking at me. She’s trying to tell me something. I’m not sure what yet, but I’m hoping in time she’ll tell me.

  “What the . . . ?” I hear someone yell. I look over toward where the noise came from, but I don’t see anything.

  “Fuck, Levi Matthews and Reece Hendricks are fighting,” someone else yells.

  My gaze goes to the sideline and I see the two of them going at each other. “What the hell?” I jump up and bolt down the bleachers, across the court to where Reece has a thrown and landed a punch directly on Levi’s nose. Blood spurts out and Levi stumbles back creating a cup with his hand to catch the blood.

  “You can have her; she’s nothing but a slut,” Levi yells at Reece as he retreats and heads toward the locker rooms.

  Reece looks over at me, and so does half the basketball team. I’m left stunned, not being able to say anything. “You’re a sick fuck,” Reece yells as Levi storms off.

  Levi turns around, walking backward and flips Reece the bird, but his hate-filled eyes single me out. His face is flooded with disgust and judgement as he spits the word, ‘whore.’ I now realize their fight had to do with me. The energy in my body multiplies as the thrumming beat of my heart intensifies.

  Reece steps in front of me shielding me from Levi, but it’s too late, he’s already said his piece, called me a ‘whore,’ and made me feel as if I’m nothing more than trash carelessly strewn aside. “You don’t get to talk to her,” Reece yells while still guarding me from the malicious and obvious hatred radiating from Levi.

  I inhale a sharp breath and look around me. Some of the guys are laughing and pointing at me, while others are desperately trying to not make eye contact. A whirlpool of emotions all smash into me at the same time, fear is the biggest.

  Reece’s broad shoulders are in front of me, shielding me as he and Levi sling insults at each another, Levi a lot more vitriolic in his hatred for me. I try to look over Reece’s shoulders, but he must feel me, because he steps back and puts his arm out protectively, almost in an on-court defense maneuver.

  Levi’s loud and venomous mumblings are heard as he leaves the gym. Reece still has his back to me, his arm out and shoulders high ready to fight anyone who comes our way. The entire gymnasium is quiet, except for a few teachers, including Mr. C, who are trying to calm down the volatile players.

  Reece keeps watching the doors Levi left through, and when some time has passed, he swings around to look at me. His eyes have a furious intensity to them, as his mouth is drawn into a tight and pained line. Reece’s chest is heaving while he makes an obvious effort to calm himself down.

  “Reece,” I mutter and immediately look down to the ground. I’m afraid if I look into his gaze, he’ll see through me to the secrets I’m desperately trying to hold on to. Worse still, I don’t know who it was that slipped me the drug, and considering he’s the one who handed me the drink, I can’t forget how it might have been him.

  But if it’s not him, then I don’t want him to know the shameful, revolting secret I’m concealing. “I shouldn’t have come,” I whisper, too afraid to look anywhere but the dirty, sweat-damp floor. “I’ll leave.”

  “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on.” Reece grabs my arm, and storms to the side doors like a man on a mission, dragging me behind him. When we get out into the hall, he starts pacing the corridor in front of me.

  Sinking back I try and flatten myself against the wall, hoping it’ll open up and swallow me whole. Panic rises through me and a sheen of perspiration touches every part of my exposed skin.

  “Do you know what he was doing?” Reece points toward the locker rooms and angrily spits at me. “Do you know?” he shouts.

  Flinching away, I close my eyes and brace myself for the blow I’m positive is about to follow. “Please don’t hit me,” I plead with him.

  But the seconds pass and I don’t feel anything. Opening one eye, I squint toward Reece. He’s puzzled by my reaction, and the distance between us is so great, there could be a parade in the vast void. “Why would you think that?” he asks and takes a slow step back, putting an even bigger gap between us.

  Truth be told, I have no idea. So many things have happened over the past week that I don’t know who I can trust, other than Sam and my parents. I feel shame claw its way through my body. It wants me weak and frail, frightened of everything and everyone. And I am.

  “Dakota,” Reece says quietly after yet another agonizingly long pause. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I immediately answer. “Nothing at all.”

  “Then why was Levi telling everyone you’re a slut? You told me you didn’t have sex with him, and I took that to mean you haven’t had sex with anyone.”

  Ice cuts through the part of me which believes one day I’ll be okay. The tension in the air mounts between us, and I’m sure Reece is leading up to more questions. Questions I simply can’t answer. “I haven’t.” My voice is small and scratchy and filled with humiliation.

  “Then why was he showing everyone a picture he got from someone, of you laying on your back, your arm up over your face with your dress hitched up above your waist?”

  My eyes fly up to his, and suddenly vomit forces its way up and sits like a lump in my throat. It’s taunting me, wanting me to make a further fool of myself. “Oh my God,” I whisper. My hand shoots up to my mouth and I do the only thing I can. I take off and don’t look back.

  My lungs hurt as air refuses to enter them, and the bile threatening its way out is now knocking loudly. I’m about to lose the meager contents of my stomach.

  I push through the outside doors and run toward the half-filled car lot. Falling to my knees I hang my head low and bring my arms up over my head. I’m trying to shield myself, but all I can do is kneel here and allow the degradation and shame to further mortify me.

  I hear heavy footsteps approaching, but
I try with all my might to ignore them and hope that whoever it is doesn’t see me.

  “Dakota?” Reece quietly says. He kneels beside me, and I feel the warmth of his hand gently touch my back.

  “Please, go away.” Choking back the tears scorching my face, I try with everything I have left in me to retain the small shred of dignity I still have. “Just . . . please leave.”

  “Tell me what’s going on,” he tries to push for answers.

  Shaking my head, I let the tears fall. My shoulders are shaking as I struggle with everything.

  “Dakota?” I hear Sam calling for me. “Dakota?!” her voice becomes more urgent.

  “She’s here,” Reece responds when he notices my lack of response.

  I hear her running toward me, and she throws her arms around me. “Move,” she screeches at Reece.

  “I was trying to help.” He sounds so defeated and worried.

  “Move,” she snaps again. “Are you okay?” She tries to shift the veil I’ve created with my hair to look at my face. Shaking my head, I can’t say anything. “Let’s go. I’ve called Mom and she’ll be here soon.” Sam helps me up, and then holds me as she guides us to wherever she told Mom to meet us.

  I look over my shoulder and see the hurt on Reece’s face. He’s rooted to the spot as his left hand is raking through his hair. I look forward, and do what I’ve been doing since Saturday night. I push everything into the part of me where I can pigeon-hole it and safely shut it away.

  “Are you okay?” Sam asks as we get further away from Reece.

  “I think so.”

  “Let’s go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up before Mom sees you like this. I think she’s already suspicious and we don’t want to give her any more reason to think something’s wrong.”

  When we get inside the girls’ bathroom, a few girls are applying lipstick and adjusting their boobs. The moment they notice me though, the talking turns hushed and their gazes become completely judgmental. “What?” Sam half-yells at the obvious ones glaring at me. They look back at the mirrors and keep doing whatever trivial thing they were doing. “Come on. Splash some water on your face.” She pushes into a tight spot, but the two girls—who I don’t recognize—leave the bathroom. Within seconds, we’re alone.

  “They left because of me.”

  “Who cares? They’re not worth your time or energy, Dakota. Let’s get you cleaned up and looking somewhat normal before Mom picks us up.”

  “Oh crap, Sam.” A sudden surge of regret for my selfishness bombards me, because I’ve totally forgotten about her date with Calvin.

  “What?” She stands in front of me and looks around, as if there’s a threat right here and now.

  “Calvin. You should go and be with him. There’s still half the game left and you should spend time with him.” I try to push her out the door, but she crosses her arms in front of her chest and tilts her head to the side.

  “No way, sis. Boys don’t come between us, ever. Anyway, Taylor pointed out which way you went, because I was getting a soda. He knows you’re upset.”

  Once I splash some water on my face I feel somewhat better. I know next week at school will be grueling, but I’ll have to deal with situations as they occur. “I’m sorry,” I say to Sam, bringing her in for a hug. “I’m a damn mess.”

  “Of course you are. It’s been less than a week since it happened. What are you supposed to do? Just skip away and forget it happened? No one could do that, not even the strongest person.”

  “You have to stop, because I’m going to cry again. I’ve never cried so much in my life.”

  “Trust me, there’s a lot more tears yet to be shed,” she solemnly sighs.

  I hope she’s wrong, but deep down inside, I know she’s not.

  Sam’s roped Dad into dropping her off at the movies for her date with Taylor/Calvin. Sam made me promise to call him Taylor, although I said I’d try, Calvin seems to have stuck.

  She looked so excited when she was getting ready, but I couldn’t share her enthusiasm. I tried, really I did, but last night’s charity game turned disastrous for me. Sam told Mom she had a headache which is why she called and got her to pick us up early.

  I hate how Sam’s having to lie for me. It rips me apart piece by piece.

  Now I’m lying on my bed, staring up at the white ceiling thinking too much about everything. My mind is a jumbled mess, I can’t stay calm and I can’t get past everything. Thankfully, next week is the last week of school, then it’ll be summer vacation. Three months of not seeing anyone from school. But better still, two weeks in Canada visiting with my cousins.

  There’s a rap on my door and I sigh, fully aware it’s Mom’s to talk to me about Levi. There’s no way of avoiding it. Last night when she picked us up, she kept a watchful eye on the rearview mirror all the way home, but thankfully Sam distracted her while I had a shower and got myself in check.

  Mom opens the door enough to poke her head inside. “Can we talk, sweetheart?”

  “Sure, I was just listening to music.” As I lean over to mute it, Mom comes in and sits at the foot of my plush mattress.

  “I’d like to talk to you about Levi.”

  Internally I wince while I plaster a fake half-smile on my face. “What is it you want to know?” I look away from Mom and hope she doesn’t ask me any of the hard questions.

  “You two broke up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened?”

  “You know, just stuff.” I offhandedly shrug, trying to telepathically tell her I don’t want to tell her.

  “What kind of stuff, sweetheart?”

  “Just, you know, stuff. We kind of weren’t working out.”

  “Honey,” she says and rubs her hand on my thigh, reassuringly giving me a gentle squeeze. “What happened?” she pushes.

  “Nothing.” God Mom, please stop.

  “Did he want sex?” I feel my face cringe at the question and I can’t help but look at her, then quickly look away. “And you must’ve said no.” She’s filling in what she thinks happened.

  “Something like that.”

  “He didn’t put pressure on you did he? He didn’t try the old line of ‘if you love me you’ll have sex with me.’?”

  “No! Nothing like that. He asked, and I said I wasn’t ready.” That’s true, as far as it goes. No one in the world knows what happened except Sam and whoever did this to me.

  “I know that eventually you’ll have sex, and I hope we have an open enough relationship that you’ll feel comfortable enough to talk to me about it.”

  Cringe. I feel like a bad person because I can’t tell her what happened. She’ll look at me differently and besides, it’s way too late to tell her now. It’s been an entire week. “Yeah, of course.”

  “Is that all that happened? He didn’t do or say anything else did he?”

  “No, Mom. Nothing else.”

  “When I was sixteen all I wanted to do was be taken seriously and for everyone around me to treat me like an adult. I know that’s how you must be feeling, but I really want to tell you, Dakota, don’t be in a rush to grow up. Growing up comes with so many responsibilities, and sometimes this whole adult thing, isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.”

  I rub my palms over my face and try to not show Mom how dead I am inside. My soul has been trampled on and any flowering part of me has been crushed and destroyed by something of which I have no recollection.

  “I don’t know what I want, Mom,” I truthfully respond. I try to think of something to give her, anything to take the worry out of her stressed voice and her tense face. “I don’t even know who my friends are anymore.” That’s as much as I can say without giving anything away.

  “Is this because of Levi?” I shrug my shoulders. “There’s going to be plenty more boys out there. He obviously wasn’t meant to be your boyfriend.”

  “Lindsey and him are now an item.”

  “Lindsey? As in your best friend, Lindsey?”

&nb
sp; “Ex-best friend,” I correct her. “And yes, her.”

  “That’s going to happen in life too, Dakota. And it’ll happen throughout every milestone. It sucks, but the people we trust sometimes turn out to be the people who we should push furthest away.” I look at Mom. Her cautionary words have struck a chord with me. They sing to my very soul. It’s as if a light has been sparked inside the darkness of my heart. “Not everyone in this world is good.”

  I breathe out a strained breath. “I’m learning that.”

  “It hurts the same no matter how old you are. But if there’s anyone you can trust, it’s me, your father, and Sam.”

  “I know that.” I give her a sweet smile. “Anyway, sorry to offload all this onto you. It’s probably the last thing you want to hear.” I try to downplay how I’m feeling, because I can’t tell Mom. It’s been too long. A whole week has passed, and I’ve kept this secret, only granting Sam access to my darkness.

  “Don’t let Levi take you away from yourself, sweetheart. I know it’s sad. He was your first real boyfriend, and I’m sure you had a lot of feelings for him. But don’t give him all that power. It’s only been a week.”

  My heart jolts to a stop as my pulse suddenly spikes. “What . . . what do you mean?” I stumble over my own sentence.

  “Since breaking up with Levi. I knew it happened at prom, because you haven’t been the same since. Speaking of which, where’s your dress so I can take it to the dry cleaner?” She looks around the room searching for my dress.

  A new wave of nausea overtakes me, and suddenly I’m petrified and beyond speechless. Crap, what am I going to say? “I took it into the dry cleaners when Sam and I went for frozen yogurt the other day.”

  Mom looks at me and tilts her head to the side, arching a perfect eyebrow at me. “Hmm,” she huffs. “Let me know when to pick it up, and I’ll go get it.”

  Double crap. “I think it’s one day next week. I have to find the slip and check, I told them there’s no rush on it.” God, I despise lying to her. But the alternative is so much worse. If she sees the dress, how it’s ripped and has grass stains all over it, she’ll know something’s not right. I don’t want her to assume Levi was the cause.