Never The Same Love Twice

by Charity Rose

  “Keith, you are not your father. What happened back then, with your ex, was a stupid drunken accident. It’s not the same,” I say, taking his face into my hands, forcing him to look into my eyes.

  After a few minutes, he has calmed back down but continues to hold me, his arms locked around my waist and hanging on like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. When he pulls away, he reaches up and runs his fingers beneath my eyes, I didn’t even realise I’d been crying too.

  “What happened to your mom? Did she find out?” I ask. He nods slowly, his head still between my hands, “Yeah. It was my dad’s birthday one year, so she wanted to surprise him, I guess. She came home early and was through the door before I could even say anything. I remember starting up at her and watching as her smile melted away when the sound of the – the moans – made their way to her ears. I remember she had a huge cake and a bag presents in her arms. When she dropped them and ran towards their room, I knew then that it was finally over,” he says, “It wasn’t an easy divorce. I had to give all the details I knew about him cheating, but my mom was hurting enough, so I didn’t share all the things he’d done to me to the police or protective services. I didn’t tell her. I haven’t seen him in years,” he pauses, “So, yeah. You can imagine how strong my mom is trying to be. First, my dad…and then me,” he trails off, and I can’t think of anything to do but to hug him again, tighter than before.

  The doorbell rings, and we both look at each other. I pull my phone from my pocket and glance at the time. I’d forgotten that July was coming over today, “Shit, it’s July. She was coming to see me today,” I say and pull away from Keith. “She said she had something she needed to tell me and it was too important to tell me over the phone,” Keith nods and steps back, “I probably shouldn’t be here, right?” he says, and I nod, “I’ll hide in here. Don’t worry, I’m good at being quiet,” he says with all seriousness.

  I run to the door before July thinks I’m not home or ignoring her and pull the door open faster than I mean to. I hadn’t even thought to clean my face or wipe my eyes, and when July turns around and sees me, her face sinks.

  “I was too late, wasn’t I? You found the video?” she says and steps inside, wrapping me into a hug, “Vee, I am so sorry this is happening to you.”

  “July,” I say. “What do you know?” I ask her. She stares at me, wide-eyed as we both sit on the sofa. I lean back to glance into the kitchen but can’t see Keith anywhere. I turn back to July as she takes my hands in hers,

  “I overheard Kassie and Brad talking the last day of school, about how Michael was going to show you a video that Kassie held onto for a long time. Of course, I didn’t know what they were talking about. But I found it odd that they would both be talking about Michael, I mean, Brad and Michael haven’t exactly been friends. Well, Kassie was saying that she was going to post ‘it’ and Brad got in an argument over it, telling her not to do it. But you know Kassie. She did. And then a few hours later Brad approached me asking if I knew how to remove videos from online if someone else had posted them which, of course, you can’t. So I asked to see the video he was talking about, but he refused to tell me what or where it was posted. But then, at the end of school, I found a note with a URL written on it tucked into my textbook.”

  This is insane. I mean, at least Brad had tried to stop it but still. Too little and too late. I take in a long breath, “Vee, was that really you and Michael in that video?” I nod, my lip is trembling as July continues,

  “I know that I’ve never asked before. But I know you, and that was not you in that video. So, tell me what really happened Vidya.”

  This time I take in the deepest breath of my life and sit down to narrate a story I never thought I’d ever had to tell, “I’m guessing everyone already knew I had a crush on Michael back in middle school. I was always so bent on getting his attention. And then one day, I did. You know how our ninth grade History professor would let us stay in his classroom during lunch break?”

  I ask, she nods,

  “Well a bunch of us would stay there to hangout. Mostly we just goofed off. It all started with Michael looking at me and laughing at my jokes, being flirty, stuff like that. He wanted me to sit on his lap. Shy as I was, I did. I sat on his lap because I was happy that he was giving me the attention that I wanted.”

  I don’t know how I’m going to get into further details, but I’m trying. And I know that somewhere in the other room Keith is listening and needs to know this too, all of it, so I talk loud enough that I’m sure he can hear every word.

  “Our history classroom became our hangout spot. Then one day, we all were supposed to be at a graduation meeting, everyone left, except for him and me. We stayed behind. He touched me that day, through my clothes, he felt every inch of me. I let him. He kept saying he liked me,” tears start falling down my cheeks like waterfalls.

  “Because you thought he cared for you. Because you thought he had genuine feelings for you,” July interjects. I nodded,

  “Yes. Well, he convinced me to,” I can’t get the words to leave my mouth. July squeezes my hands and gives me a hug, which makes me cry even worse. “He convinced me to go down on him, give him a blowjob. So, I did. And then he wanted more but I sad no. He told me he’d tell everyone I was a total slut if I ever spoke about this to anyone,”

  “Vee, he took advantage of you. It’s not your fault, none of it,”

  I cry for a long while, and July runs her fingers over my hair and face, comforting me. I tell her than what happened at the party, how he had reached into my shirt and wouldn’t stop even after I said no. July ground her teeth together, “That asshole! He has to pay for this, Vee. You have to tell someone.” I nod my head, “I know. I’m just not sure who I can tell without everything unravelling. I wish I’d never gone to this school. I hate it!” I cry long and hard. From the corner of my eye, I see Keith watching, his eyes moist with tears.

  After July left, I pulled Keith over to the sofa with me. With a deep sigh, I dab at my eyes and feel how puffy they were. I feel like I’d been crying forever. Maybe I have been. We sit together for the longest time when I go stiff with fear as the door clicks, and my parents’ step inside the house.

  My dad’s jaw falls open, and my mom, who was laughing behind him, steps in and the noise is cut short, “Vidya? Keith?” she looks between the two of us. My dad turns his head to look at her, accusing her of knowing about this. She arches her eyebrows, sets her jaw, and shakes her head as her eyes drop to me and bore into my head.

  My dad is the first to speak, “And what exactly have you been up to young lady?” I don’t have an answer to that question. I glance at Keith. No matter what I say, the situation looks terrible. I’ve been here alone all day, with a boy. They won’t care that July was here and if they ask her about Keith, she won’t have an answer for them.

  “Dad, I—” I open my mouth, but Keith stops me. Rising, he makes his way to stand in front of my dad. “Sir, I’m sorry to come over here without permission. I dropped by to ask Vidya if she’d accompany me to run a few errands for my mom,” he says. My mom looks at him clearly knowing that everything he’s saying is a lie. It’s evident that we’ve both been crying. Our faces are red and wet with tears, and my clothes are crumpled up and my hair messy.

  “And who are you?” my dad asks curtly.

  “My name is Keith sir, Keith Masters. I go to school with your daughter,” he answers honestly, “We live just down the road past the corner store, not twenty minutes or so from here,”

  “So, let me get this straight,” he eyes the both of us. “You mean to tell me,” he now focuses on Keith. “That my daughter let you into this house, without our permission, to go on some errands? She knows to text us first. And she knows that boys are not allowed in the house when we aren’t at home, no exceptions,” he shakes his head and crosses his arms. My mom makes her way past my dad and disappears with her bags upstairs. Dad continued, his voice filled with irritation, “Excuse me, Mr Masters,
if I find it hard to believe considering the current state of you both,” he waves his hand at us. Keith doesn’t look any better than I do. At some point, he had unbuttoned his shirt, and it hung open, revealing the black muscle shirt stretched tight across his abs beneath the button up.

  “Dad,” I step in. “Look I’m sorry, I was about to text you guys—”

  “That’s not like you Vee,” he says with authority. “You should have known better—”

  “I know Dad, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again—”

  “Exactly, it won’t happen again, because you’re grounded for the rest of the week,” he says and deep down I know he means it. “Now, please leave my house before I call your mom and the police, Mr Masters,” Keith stands with his jaw hanging open, he closes it and nods slowly before digging his keys out of his pocket and closing the door quietly behind him.

  I go and look out the living room window as Keith drives off before turning back to my father, anger tinting my voice, “Dad! You didn’t have to threaten him like that!” I growl. My dad cocks his head to one side and frowns. The deep creases in his face growing deeper with anger, “Excuse me, young lady but you know the rules, we have rules for a reason,” he says, “And from the way, you two looked it was a good thing we walked in when we did!” he growls. My face turns red with embarrassment and growing fury, “It’s not like that dad, not at all. You’ve no idea what Keith and I have been through together,”

  “That’s right, I don’t. And from the looks of things, it seems like I should have! I know I’m at work a lot. I know I’m not always here but Vidya, I’ll be damn if I’m going to watch my daughter get dragged around by guys like that,”

  “Guys like what dad?”

  “Guys like that only want one thing Vidya, and you’re old enough to know what that is,” he says with a finality in his voice that tells me that no amount of arguing is going to change his mind about Keith and me. Angry and in tears, I ran up to my room and locked my door behind me.

  Great, now I can never tell them I want to transfer schools and why. Not with my dad fearing that everything he thinks could happen has already come true.

  Chapter 19

  “My dad said I can’t go out anywhere. Christmas Eve is no exception, he says it’s a family holiday and should be spent with the family,” I say to Keith on the phone.

  “I’m sorry. I really wanted you to be here,” Keith says over the phone. Since I’m grounded now, I haven’t been able to leave the house, not even when mom wanted to go do some more last-minute bargain bin shopping at Walmart. I let out a sigh so deep my shoulders sink,

  “It’s not your fault, Keith. Say thank you to your mom for the invitation. It would have been lovely to meet your grandmother,” I say in all honesty.

  “She was psyched to meet you too. She was glad I’d found someone incredible in my life. I’ve told her so much about you.”

  “Did you tell her about our fights,” I joke. Keith freezes on the line, not saying anything until I do, “Keith, Keith, are you there?”

  “I’m sorry, Vee,” he says exasperated.

  “Sorry for what?”

  “The fights, for all the shit I put you through. If you’d have been any other girl, you wouldn’t have gone to my house that day demanding answers—”

  I reach out up and unconsciously begin twirling my hair around one finger, “Well, I’m a girl who knows what she wants, and I want you.”

  Months ago, I would have not said that. I would have said Keith was insane and unpredictable, completely unreadable; a guy who drives me crazy in both good ways and wrong ways. Now everything about him is starting to make sense I feel more at ease with him than ever. More confident in our feelings. He is still tough to piece together sometimes, but at least now I know the reasons behind that, and we can work it out together.

  “I know what I want too, I wish I were there to kiss you,” he says, and just the mere thought of him kissing me right now sends my body on frenzy mode. I can feel my ears growing warm again in a familiar way, “You know what?” he asks. I shake my head as if he could actually see me through the phone. “I want to call you my girlfriend, can I?” he asks so sweetly.

  “You already have,” I counter with a smile.

  He goes silent, “I have?” I nod again even though its over the phone and remind him of the text he’d sent me not all that long ago. I can hear the smile in his voice as he laughs, “Fair enough, so…can I?” he pushes for an answer.

  “Only if I get to call you my boyfriend,” I counter.

  “Yes, of course, girlfriend,” he mocks, “As you wish.”

  I like this, the simplicity to us calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend, of acknowledging this new and more profound commitment. I love how he didn’t make it such a big deal but still made the gesture feel true.

  Christmas Eve is a blur of moving crowds and strangers all around. My father’s annual work gala is being held today, and he didn’t bother to tell us until the very last minute. Mom and I had to go shopping this morning for dresses. We managed to find some decent ones in the prom shop discount aisle. Mom chose a long sterling silver dress with a plunging neckline, which she closed up a bit with a safety pin to make it a bit more modest. My dress is cerulean blue with magenta flower patterns at the end, unlike my mother’s; my dress has a short tail. I feel like Cinderella getting ready for the ball, but only my prince charming won’t be there.

  My mom didn’t want to just let my hair hang loosely, “It just doesn’t look formal like that” she’d said so I chose to curl it and put into an updo. My makeup is simple but pretty, just the way I like it. As soon as we’re ready, my dad rushes us off the party. We are late, but fashionably so.

  As I walk into the venue, I try my hardest not to trip on anything. My heels aren’t that high; still, I’m terrible at walking in them. A man directs us to our table, and I take a seat thankful that I don’t have to walk anymore. I slide the shoes off beneath the table, grateful for the long table cloth to shield me from scrutinous eyes as I rub my toes against each other.

  The place is fancy. Glass chandeliers dangle from the ceilings, waiters walk to and fro bringing trays and large amounts of food to all the guests. There is live music in the form of a pianist accompanied by a small group of violins and tuba players. My dad’s company really went all out this year. This is not exactly how I pictured spending Christmas Eve. To think I could have been sitting in the middle of Keith’s living room, talking to this mother and grandmother, wrapped between Keith’s arms. As lovely as this place is I’d much rather be having a happy little holiday with him and his family. I snap myself out of my fantasy. I miss Keith; I haven’t seen him in over a week. I slip my heels back on, stand up, and tell my mother that I’m going to the bathroom. She stands up to go with me, but I stop her, she doesn’t say anything, just blinks at me, and then slides back into a conversation with the wife of one of my dad’s co-workers.

  As I step out of the main dining area and down one of the large annexed halls, I can’t help but notice the stares coming my way from some of the single men at their tables. I ignore them and proceed to the bathroom. I stand in a corner near the sinks and pull out my phone to call Keith. He picks up on the first ring.

  “Vee! What a surprise, I was just talking to Gram about you. How’s your Christmas Eve been so far?” he asks. I smile grimly, my lips pressed together and snort,

  “Honestly? Not the best. I’m at my dad’s annual company gala. It’s not exactly the setting I imagined for my Christmas Eve,” I say truthfully. “I miss you,” I blurt out too loud; I get looks from some of the women coming into the restroom.

  “I miss you too,” Keith sighs. “I wish you were here with me. Where’s this gala of yours at anyway?” he asks.

  “It’s at the Grand Garden Hotel,” I announce.

  “Fancy, eh?”

  “Very fancy,” I admit. “I’ll call you tomorrow to say Merry Christmas. I’d better go, or my parents will wonder
where I’ve gone off to. Bye, Keith.”

  “Bye Vee, cheer up I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy the rest of your night,” he declares. I only hope that’s true.

  Happily, seated back at our table, I engage in small talk with some of the women from the company. They ask me about what I intend to do after high school. I tell them about my plans to pursue a career in writing and how I want to major in English. They all find it strange that I would take an interest in something as juvenile as writing. They think the publishing industry is dead, and that the generation of this era doesn’t read books. They tell me that a girl with my grades and level of talent should become a lawyer or a doctor. You don’t know how many times I’ve been told that. They continue to prattle on about what a good doctor I’d make or maybe pharmaceuticals like my father.

  I open my purse and glance down at my phone, hoping it’s already midnight so we can go home, but no luck. It’s only 10:30pm. I sigh and roll my eyes. A voice slides into my thoughts, “Parties aren’t your kind of scene I’m guessing?”

  “I beg your pardon?” I ask, some dude is looking at me from across the table, he seems young-ish. Not as young as me by far, but he definitely stands out among the crowd of seasoned adults. If I had to guess I’d say he was the early thirties, his face looks familiar, and I’m sure I’ve seen him before, but I can’t place where.