Want to Go Private?

by Sarah Darer Littman

  “So you had to make friends with a pervert?”

  Sometimes parents are so freaking dense.

  “Mr. Johnston, I think what Abby’s trying to tell you is that she was lonely and the predator was very clever in sensing her needs and trying to fill them in order to manipulate Abby for his own ends,” Dr. Binnie says. “That’s how the grooming process works.”

  “Why couldn’t you just talk to us, honey?” Mom asks. “Why couldn’t you just tell us you were lonely?”

  “Yeah, right,” I say. “Like that’s going to happen.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dad says, all mad at me now. I don’t care. As long as it takes some of the heat off of Abby.

  “Seriously, think back to the prehistoric era when you were teenagers,” I say. I see Dr. Binnie raise her hand to her mouth to hide a smile. She seems okay for a shrink, not that I actually know any other shrinks except for Mr. DiTocco, the counselor at school. “Would you have told your parents that you felt like a total loser with no friends?”

  I glance at Abby.

  “No offense, Abs.”

  And believe it or not, I really didn’t mean any.

  “None taken, Lily,” Abby says.

  She’s still facing Dad with that sad, pleading expression. His gaze jumps from her to the floor to the tinkling fountain to the ceiling and finally settles on a spot on the wall to the right of Abby’s head.

  “When I think of him … touching you … I just …” Dad’s hands clench into fists. “It makes me … I want to kill … I —”

  Suddenly, he covers his face with his hands, and his shoulders slump over. And then he’s making these awful sounds, like a dying walrus. Mom puts her arm around him and murmurs, “Rick, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

  And then Abby uncurls herself from the black leather chair and crosses the carpet. She stands in front of Dad and goes to put her arms around him, then stops, like she’s afraid, like she’s worried that he won’t want her to because she’s too dirty ’cause she’s been contaminated by that freakazoid perv she ran off with. So she just touches his shoulder, lightly, with her fingertips, enough to let him know she’s there but without risking giving him perv cooties. And Dad uncovers his face and looks at her. Really looks at Abby. He sees her eyes, which are bright red from crying, and the look on her face that’s begging him to still love her, even though she fell for that creep’s lies and did all the crazy, stupid things she did.

  “Christ, Abby, when I thought you were dead, it almost killed me,” Dad says, pulling Abby into his arms.

  Okay, I’m crying now, too. Who wouldn’t be? Yeah, the shrink, but that’s because this is all in a day’s work to her, I guess.

  I know school’s still going to suck — it’s not like this family therapy crap is going to magically change my status as a social leper with a crazy sister. But I guess this was worth missing Degrassi for, if it means maybe our family has some remote shot at being normal again someday.

  CHAPTER 37

  ABBY FEBRUARY

  “Abby, wake up! You’re having another nightmare,” Lily says, shaking me.

  She looks pale in the golden light of my bedside lamp.

  “That must have been a really bad one,” she says, handing me a tissue to dry my tears. “You were crying and you shouted ‘Help me!’ in this really pathetic voice.”

  “At least I didn’t wake up Mom and Dad,” I say. “I’m … really sorry I disturbed you.”

  “It’s okay.” She squeezes my leg gently. “Really.”

  There are so many ways I screwed up by getting in Luke’s car, but for some strange reason, once she got over her initial pissed-offedness, this whole thing seems to have made Lily and me closer. I mean, I don’t think we’ll ever be the sharing-clothes-and-makeup kind of sisters. We’re still very different. But somehow we seem to have found a way to talk without fighting. At least some of the time anyway.

  “Abs …” Lily says. “What … what is it that you’re dreaming about when you freak out like this? Is it what HE did to you?”

  Lily refuses to call him Luke. She’ll only call him Schmidt or Perv Face or HIM. In a way she’s right because there is no such person as Luke Redmond. But it’s hard for me to give him up so easily, because of what he meant to me. Or at least what I thought he meant to me.

  I think back to my nightmare and a shiver passes through me. Wrapping my arms around my shins, I curl up tight and rest my chin on my knees.

  Don’t get coy with me now, Abby. You know you want it. You’ve wanted it all along.

  Lily’s looking at me, her sleepy eyes filled with love and concern. I don’t want to pollute her dreams with the filth inside my head. But she’s waiting for an answer, and knowing Lily, she won’t leave until she gets one.

  “Some of it’s … what happened. But then … it’s like … I dream … that he’s going to … kill me. That I’m going to … die … in that room … without ever seeing Mom or Dad … or you … or anyone …” My voice catches and I can’t stop the tears from starting again. “I dream I’m going to die … without seeing any of you … ever again.”

  Lily’s eyes glisten and she suddenly throws her arms around me.

  “Oh, Abby!”

  She rocks me gently, and rubs my back, like I’m the baby sister.

  My mother finds us curled up next to each other in my bed the following morning. She doesn’t say anything, but her mouth is a compressed line of worry.

  “Another nightmare, Abby?”

  I hesitate before telling her the truth. “Yes … A really bad one this time.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “It’s okay.” I look at my sister breathing softly on the pillow next to me. “Lily was here.”

  The victim support specialist at the FBI calls us periodically to update us on the investigation. They found all kinds of sick stuff on Luke’s computer — not just the pictures of me, but videos of really young girls, like as young as five even, having sex with older guys. I ran to the bathroom and threw up when Mom told me that. I can’t believe that I thought I was in love with someone who was capable of something so incredibly sick and gross.

  But I wasn’t in love with that guy, really. It’s like there are two separate people. There’s Edmund Schmidt, this perverted pedophile Internet predator who had disgusting porn on his computer and was busy “grooming” several girls besides me. Then there’s Luke, the guy I was in love with — or at least who I thought I was in love with. Luke, who listened to me, who seemed to understand me better than anyone else. But the thing is, Luke isn’t real. Luke is just a fictional character that Edmund Schmidt made up to trick me.

  Dr. Binnie has been trying to help me understand how predators work so I will stop blaming myself so much.

  “The predator’s greatest tool is listening, Abby,” she told me. “That is how Luke was able to gain your confidence and your trust … and ultimately, your love. Because he listened to your problems and reflected them back to you, but without any genuine empathy.”

  “Yeah, that’s what hurts so much, I guess. And what makes me feel … like such a first-class idiot. I’ve always thought of myself as smart. Everyone always told me I was smart. Being smart is the one thing I’m supposed to be good at and now I’m not even good at that.”

  “Abby, there’s a difference between academic intelligence and emotional intelligence. Clearly, you’re a very bright girl. But you’re also fourteen, and emotional intelligence develops as you mature. That’s part of the reason your age group, young adolescents, are the group at highest risk for being targeted by predators.”

  “Great. So I’m just another statistic.”

  “I didn’t tell you that so you could feel like another statistic. More so you could understand that there’s a good reason predators like Schmidt are on the lookout for boys and girls your age. Because they know you’re at a point where you’re starting to explore your own identities. And you’re also trying to be more ind
ependent from your parents, and that, as you know from experience, causes conflict. When kids argue with their parents, it gives the predator an opening, one that they’re expert at exploiting.”

  I remember how Luke always took my side when I complained about my parents. How he took my side about everything. How it felt so good to have someone who agreed with everything I said, instead of telling me that I was being negative, like Faith.

  Faith, the one who has stuck by me through all of this, defends me to the people who bad-mouth me, and calls me every night to make sure I’m okay.

  “I guess … I guess real friends tell it like it is, even if you don’t want to hear it.”

  Dr. Binnie nods.

  “Especially when you don’t want to hear it. But they do it in a kind, loving way.”

  We’re both silent for a moment. The ever-present waterfall tinkles in the background.

  “What if I have to testify at his trial?” I ask. “I don’t know if I could handle seeing him again, knowing that everything he said to me was a lie just so he could … do stuff and … put it online.”

  “Is that a possibility? Has anyone spoken to you about it?”

  “No. But, like, they did that forensic exam at the hospital. And when the FBI questioned me, they recorded everything and warned me that it might be used in a court of law and stuff. They still have my computer and my underwear as evidence.”

  “The victim support specialist can probably tell you more about the likelihood of having to testify,” Dr. Binnie says.

  “I guess. I’ll ask her, the next time I speak to her.” I take a deep breath. “Maura says the FBI can notify me whenever they arrest someone who’s downloaded the ‘Abby Series.’ I don’t know what to do.”

  “What would be the advantage of knowing?”

  “I guess that some other creep has been arrested and won’t be able to do what Luke did.”

  Dr. Binnie nods.

  “Can you think of any drawbacks of knowing?”

  Can I ever.

  “Well … it’s like sometimes I have nightmares about people all over the world watching me naked. Like millions of computer screens all filled with that video of Luke … you know … doing it to me.”

  I take a tissue out of the box on the table next to me, not because I feel like I’m going to cry, but because I need something to fidget with while I’m talking.

  “I wake up and tell myself that it’s only a dream. Then, sometimes for a day or two, I can forget about it.”

  I roll up the tissue and twist it into a pretzel shape.

  “But, like, if they tell me they’ve actually arrested someone for downloading it, then it’s not just a dream, is it? It’s real. And it’s like it’s happening all over again.”

  “That’s a good point, Abby. It’s important whatever choice you make, that you protect yourself and allow yourself the space to recover from the trauma you’ve been through.”

  I start shredding the tissue into small, neat strips. Dr. Binnie just sits there observing me, her pen poised above her notepad, the fountain tinkling away in the corner as if to say, “Ask, Abby, ask.” It’s not until I’ve totally decimated the tissue that I finally take a deep breath and pose the question that’s really on my mind:

  “Dr. Binnie, do you think I’ll ever be, like, normal again? Or am I going to be ‘That Girl Who Ran Off with the Internet Skeev’ for the rest of my life?”

  She doesn’t answer me right away, and I get this sinking feeling like, Oh man, I’m doomed forever.

  “I’m not going to lie and say your life will go on as if this never happened, Abby. A trauma like this can take years to overcome. But can you go on to have a happy, productive life? I certainly hope so. That’s the goal of therapy. Talking about what happened certainly will help. But it’s definitely not going to happen overnight and you shouldn’t expect it to. Take it in baby steps and realize that there will be times that for each step forward you’ll take a few steps backward. And remember, by helping to put Schmidt behind bars you are preventing him from doing this to other girls.”

  Preventing him from doing this to other girls.

  That’s got to be a good thing because I don’t want anyone else to have to go through this. Ever.

  CHAPTER 38

  FAITH APRIL

  Ted’s over at my house watching a movie when Abby calls. I think about letting the answering machine pick up, but I don’t. I already lost Abby once by ignoring her for Ted, and I’m not going to make that mistake again.

  “What’s up, Abs? I’m watching a movie.”

  “I’m sorry. I can call back if you want.”

  “It’s okay. We paused it.”

  “We? Is Ted there?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Did I tell you I’m so psyched you guys got back together?”

  “Only about fifty times.”

  “Okay, okay. So I’ve been thinking …”

  “Alert the press!”

  “Shut up! Seriously. I’ve been talking about it with Dr. Binnie, too, and Agent Saunders. I’m going to do a talk about Internet Safety. Like for schools and stuff. Telling kids about my experiences so that maybe they won’t get suckered by a predator like I did.”

  “Wow,” I say. “That’s really brave, Abs. And a great idea. Except …”

  She so excited about this — it’s the most happy and positive Abby’s sounded for the longest time, definitely since … IT happened. I wonder if I should rain on her parade or just shut up. But after what happened at the auditions, I figure someone’s got to say it, and that someone probably better be me.

  “Abs, I’m really proud of you for wanting to do this and all, because I don’t think I’d have the guts after everything you’ve been through. But … how are you going to get up in front of all those people?”

  Crickets. Ack. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.

  “I know, I know. Every time I think about doing it I feel sick to my stomach. But I feel like I’ve got to face my fears. Like if I can beat this, then I’ve won. Schmidt hasn’t ruined my life. At least not all the way. I’ll still be a social reject, but at least I’ll have done something good.”

  Personally, I doubt she’s going to be able to pull this off, but I’m not about to tell her that. Right now, Abby needs my encouragement, and if that’s what my best friend needs, that’s what I’m going to give her.

  “I’ll help you practice. Maybe Gracie can help, too. She’s really good with projecting and all that, you know, because she’s been to drama camp and stuff.”

  “Why don’t you and Gracie come over for a sleepover next weekend? I’ll start trying to figure out what I’m going to say before then.”

  “Okay. It’s a date. And speaking of that, I’d better get back to mine.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Tell Ted I say hi.”

  “I will. Bye!”

  Ted’s finished all the popcorn by the time I hang up. He follows me into the kitchen to get some more Coke while I go to make more.

  “So what’s up with Abby?”

  “She’s going to do a talk at schools about Internet Safety and what happened to her. To try and warn other kids.”

  Ted snorts Coke out through his nose.

  “So attractive,” I say, handing him a paper towel.

  “You have got to be kidding me. Are we talking about Abby ‘I fainted at my auditions’ Johnston?”

  I glare at him, even though he’s only saying the same thing I thought.

  “We have to support her. What she’s doing is really brave.”

  “Look, I’m not disputing that it’s a brave idea … in concept. But come on, Faith. In reality, it’s kind of crazy when that girl has the worst case of stage fright, like, ever.”

  The microwave beeps, but I ignore it.

  “Then we have to help her figure out how to get over it,” I tell him. I throw my arms around his neck and look up into his eyes. “She needs this, Ted. Abby really needs to do this. And somehow, I hav
e no idea how, we have to help her make it happen.”

  He smiles down at me.

  “You are possibly the awesomest person in the universe, Faith Wilson. Do you know that?”

  “Only possibly?”

  He kisses me.

  “Totally, definitely, positively.”

  He lets me go and takes the popcorn out of the microwave.

  “Against all my better judgment, I promise to do everything I can to help you coach Abby for what is destined to be a disastrous presentation. Now can we watch the rest of the movie?”

  “Only if you let me hold the popcorn this time, you pig.”

  CHAPTER 39

  LILY MAY

  I’m starting to think my dorky sister has more friends than I do. How sad is that? It seems like every other day there’s a group of people over here, helping her to practice for this Internet Safety presentation.

  Dad was totally against it at first. I think he wishes we could just sweep this all under the carpet and forget it ever happened. He definitely doesn’t like anything that reminds him of That Man and Abby. Like every time the FBI calls to update us about the case, he gets angry all over again and goes into a funk. Mom has to remind him that if Abby is trying to get her act together and move on, he has to try and get over it, too.

  But when Abby got this idea that she wanted to, like, talk about the whole thing in public, Dad went totally nuclear. He made like it was all about protecting Abby, but I think it was more because he doesn’t want to hear it, or want the world to know that this happened to us. To his perfect daughter. Yeah, Dad. Like it’s some great big secret after it was on the news and in all the papers.

  We had this whole family therapy session about it. Abby totally surprised me, because she stuck to her guns, even though Dad was all over her to drop the idea. I guess doing this really means something to her. She said that if talking about it means that one other person doesn’t fall for some creep like Edmund Schmidt — she’s started calling him that now instead of Luke — then it will be worth the terror of getting up onstage in front of people.