by Amber Kalkes
I look over my shoulder at him, only to find him already looking at me with a frown on his face. I quickly turn my eyes to the front and wrap my arms around myself. I don’t know why but I feel like I know him. Maybe he’s one of the regulars at the café. Or maybe I’m just confusing reality again. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.
When I get to work, I try to ignore the twist in my stomach when I see my boss, Lawrence there. He’s a gangly little weasel, in his mid-thirties, who with a fairly young staff on his hand, likes to play a game of ‘inappropriately touch the employee’. I am, to date, his favorite target. I refuse to react to him when he tries to play his games but it only seems to fuel his fire when it comes to his advances. I’m not interested and never will be, but he doesn’t seem to care.
Lawrence’s beady green eyes land on me through his round thin rimmed glasses, as he licks his lips with a smirk. I keep my eyes averted as I pass the front counter and head to the back storage room to take off my winter gear. I let out a sigh of relief when I spot another person in there getting ready for their shift. At least I won’t be alone in my torture.
When I finally work up the courage to leave the back room, my hands are shaking at my sides. I can feel Lawrence’s eyes on me, but I don’t meet them in fear of what’ll happen if I do. I don’t want to give him any reason to think I want him. I’ve told him ‘no’ so many times, it could be my mantra. But he always plays it off like I don’t understand his intentions. As if all of the ass grabs weren’t enough of a hint.
It’s another reason to quit this job. Of course, to quit this job I’d need another another one. The problem is, nobody is hiring. So, to keep Florence fed, and myself out of my parent’s wallets, I put up with it. It also doesn’t help that everyone knows that it happens, but no one says anything. Sometimes you have to take the good with the bad, I guess.
“Hey, Shoshanna.”
I turn and give a weak smile at my co-worker for the day, Frank. Frank is in his late teens and is going to college at the university downtown. He’s a nice guy and always seems willing to step in when I can’t do something. He’s also not hard on the eyes either, with his messy blonde surfer style hair and hazel eyes.
“Hi.” I greet quietly.
“Who’s the manager today?”
I don’t say anything but my eyes shift over my shoulder. Frank lifts his head and groans when he sees Lawrence hovering nearby. Dropping his volume, he stands uncomfortably but necessarily close, to speak to me.
“I don’t know how you put up with it.”
I shrug and continue stocking to-go cups.
Frank dips his head close enough to make me flinch when he speaks, “I would have kicked him in the nuts if I were you.”
I smile a little at the image but shake my head, “I can’t. I need this job.”
“If I talk to my aunt about getting you a job down at the library will you quit?”
I stare at him before frowning, “W-Why would you do that?”
He shrugs with a slight smirk, “Because I want to see you kick him in the nuts.”
I bite my lip to hold my smile, but Frank sees it and bumps my shoulder with his. I freeze at the contact but he doesn’t seem to notice. As subtly as I can manage, I take a step away from him by pretending to reach for something. He thankfully doesn’t call me out on my ruse and soon leaves me to help a customer.
I’m taken out of my discomfort when I sense someone watching me. Looking around, I see a few regular faces and a few new ones but nothing that stand out, that is until I settle on a pair of blue eyes. I lower my gaze instantly when I see those eyes looking directly back at me. I glance back up and see those same eyes still looking at me, but this time, the person adds a kind, dimpled smile to the mix.
He’s a handsome guy and way out of my league. Actually, I’m not even sure we’d even be classified in the same stratosphere. I try to tell myself he’s just being nice and kind, but he just keeps staring at me. It’s making me nervous and when he finally does approach the front counter again, I purposely ignore him. I did mention I wasn’t a people person, right?
I watch out of the corner of my eye as the blue-eyed guy talks to Frank and gestures to me. I don’t move a muscle until he leaves, and when the bell finally dings, I feel like I can breathe for the first time. Pushing my hair behind my ears, I itch my nose with my shaking hand as I try to calm myself down. Frank tapping my shoulder nearly makes me jump out of my skin, so you can see how well that’s working.
“Hey, Shoshanna? A guy left this for you.” He says before handing me a piece of paper with the name Jeremy and a phone number written on it.
I look at the paper for a few minutes before whispering, “Throw it away.”
“What? Why?”
“I won’t call him.” I tell him quietly with a shrug, “So why keep it?”
“He seemed nice though.”
I give Frank a small, sad smile, “I don’t date.”
He frowns, “Why not? You’re cute and sweet. Guys like that.”
“I just don’t.” I sigh before taking the paper and ripping it in half, “Thanks though.”
Frank drops the subject and I’m thankful for it. I’m not trying to be horrible about it. I’m really not. I’m just trying to avoid the inevitable let down. We’ll go out. He’ll ask me about myself and if I can get past the urge to run every time he stares at me, I’ll give him vague answers. Then, just when I start to like him, he’ll try to touch me. I’ll freak out and when I’m in the middle of my panic attack, he’ll run for the nearest exit. I want to say that this is just an assumption but it isn’t. Just ask Tom, Chris, and Colin. All of them were great guys and all of them were fast runners.
As the day goes on, I start to relax a little. Frank does me a big favor and works at the counter while I mix the drinks. We both know it’s a good move for everyone involved. When our shifts are over, Frank’s replacement comes first. It’s a girl named Kayla and though I don’t know her, it’s obvious she doesn’t like me. That is quite obvious, since her face always looks like she’s smelled something rancid.
“Hey, do you need a ride home?” Frank asks as he comes out of the back.
I shake my head but says nothing as Kayla’s glare intensifies.
“You sure?”
I glance at Kayla quickly before nodding, “I’m okay.”
“Alright. Well, I’ll see you Monday, alright?”
I nod but don’t say anything, as I busy myself with changing the filters on the machines. It’s not long before Melanie comes rushing into the building looking both contrite and disheveled. Her blue eyes widen when she sees me behind the counter and comes over to explain in a rush.
“Oh my god, Shoshanna, I had no idea I was your replacement. I feel so awful. Trevor drove me over here, but then he wouldn’t let me get out of the car. He’s adorable but he always makes me late for my shifts. Please say you’ll forgive me! I feel so awful for making you wait. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”
I gnaw on my lip and shake my head, “It’s okay.”
“So you’ll forgive me?”
I just mumble an affirmative but it does the job. She jumps up with a grin before unraveling her scarf from her neck, “I’ll be back in a second. Just let me go hang this stuff up in the back.”
“Shoshanna!”
I jump and turn around to see Lawrence glaring at me. I don’t know what he thinks I’ve done this time, but I don’t like the look in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything more, but he urges me to go towards him. Stumbling a bit on my sneakers, I hesitantly do as he asks. My palms begin to sweat, and a twisting in my stomach begins to wrench its way through my body, the closer I get to him. I know this will be bad but I can’t escape, and I realize this is just how he wants me to feel. Shoving all emotion down into a tight little box, I meet Lawrence’s eyes with a blank look.
I feel nothing and I am nothing.
“Come into the office.” He says stiffly, “I want to talk to you.”
“I-I have to go home.” I stutter out, feeling the growing urge to run.
He glances up at Kayla before smiling at me, “It’ll only take a few minutes.”
I spot Melanie out of the corner of my eye, walking out of the back room. Her walk slows down but she doesn’t say anything. I know I’m alone on this one. Neither Kayla nor Melanie can or will help me. When Melanie passes by me to stand behind the counter, my suspicions are confirmed and I blink back tears. I can’t say I’m surprised but it doesn’t hurt any less.
“It’ll only take a minute.” He assures me again and reaches out to guide me towards the office. I clench my hands into fists at my side, but my feet follow his command.
I walk into the fairly small office and see two desks facing different walls, one of which belongs to the other manager, Diane. A fairly small window is on the farthest wall from the door. It has a view of barren tree branches going across it. I’m studying the tiny half bathroom nearby, when I hear the door click shut behind me. This is followed by another click, and I realize I’ve just been locked in.
I close my eyes and try not to show my panic when Lawrence’s hands come down on my shoulders. Both of my fists tighten to the point that my fingernails are digging into my palms. I keep my body stiff as Lawrence leans down to bury his nose in my hair before sniffing me. I don’t like it. I don’t like him. But most of all, I don’t like this.
“You smell good.” He groans in my ear, making my chin start to wobble. “Did you really think you could avoid me forever?”
I don’t respond. Instead, I just close my eyes and grit my teeth.
Lawrence suddenly turns me around to face him. He roughly grabs my face with his thumb and pointer finger, hard enough to feel like my chin is about to detach from my face. I whimper against my own will. His eyes light up like the creepy bastard I always knew he was.
His disgusting mouth descends on mine, and I feel the need to vomit quickly, as his tongue licks the seam of my lips. He continues to try to force me to open my mouth, but I keep it firmly closed. I don’t want anything of him inside me. If I have to suffer a bit for that not to happen, I’ll take it.
“Open your mouth.” He demands but I shake my head.
He grabs a chunk of my hair and pulls it hard enough to make me cry out. The sound is cut off as his tobacco flavored tongue shoots into my mouth. This time, I can really feel the bile rising in my throat as I try to push him off me with my hands. It’s like he doesn’t even feel me fighting him, as he pushes himself closer to me. At this very moment, I can honestly say that I’ve never wanted to die more. I want this to end so much that my whole body radiates with frustration, panic, and fear.
Lawrence’s hands start to work their way up the back of my shirt and my panic only grows as I try harder to get him off me. A hesitant knock on the door cuts him short before he can touch my skin. He leans back and glares at me through his round glasses.
“Did you ask someone to come back here?”
I shake my head but he doesn’t look convinced. He keeps me close, despite my struggling to get away from him and faces the door. His voice is filled with hardly restrained annoyance as he yells at the person who dared to interrupt.
“What?”
“A customer wants to talk to you.” Kayla’s bored voice informs him from the other side of the door.
Lawrence scowls at the door and barks, “I’ll be out in a second.”
“Okay.”
As soon as he’s sure she’s away from the door, Lawrence throws me away from him like I’m made of poison. He adjusts himself in his pants and I look away, deciding to get lost in the sight outside the office window. The snow coats the thin spindly branches of the tree outside. I watch as a lone, brown leaf still hangs on despite its time to go, finally crumbling under the weight. If anything is a metaphor in my life right now, that leaf is definitely it.
Lawrence slaps the side of my face lightly, getting my attention. When he's sure he has it, he fix back his dyed blonde hair and flashes me a threatening smile. His teeth are yellow and a bit crooked. As I look at them, I try not to throw up as I remember his snake like tongue inside my mouth a moment before.
“You’re going to keep your fucking mouth shut about this or I’ll say I caught you stealing from the cash register. Do I make myself clear?”
I nod quickly, hoping he'll just leave if I agree.
Smirking, he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, making me flinch. “Good girl.”
Tugging up his pants, he wipes his mouth with his hand and turns to head for the door. As soon as he’s out of the room, I feel bile rise up in my throat. Rushing into the connected bathroom, I throw up the only things in my stomach, my pills and stomach acid. It burns up my throat, but it’s better than the taste Lawrence has left behind on my tongue. I flush the toilet and quietly leave the office.
Melanie’s eyes widen as she looks at me, and I can’t imagine what I look like. Hiding behind some of my hair, I turn away from her and level my gaze to the brown, tile floor below. Seeing this as my chance to escape without notice, I grab my things from the storage room in a rush and leave through the back exit. My shift ended twenty minutes ago, so what the hell does it matter now?
When I get home, I don’t take off my things like I usually do. Instead, I simply lock my deadbolt and slide down the cheap wood of my door until I’m sitting on the carpet. I let my forehead fall onto my knees as I curl into a ball and begin to let it all out. Heartbreaking and soul crushing sobs escape my body. As I cry, my mind replays every single thing, second by second, of what Lawrence just forced on me.
Laying my head back against the door, I stare up at my ceiling through blurry eyes. It’s as if I needed another reason to hate this world or myself more than I already do. Closing my eyes, I listen to the sound of my phone ringing and just ignore it. I’m not in the mood to talk to my mom right now.
In fact, I’m not in the mood for much more than just sitting here and wishing I wasn’t here at all.
Chapter Three
Allocution
“How are you feeling?”
I grimace at the question but answer, “Fine.”
Dr. Reynolds lifts one bushy eyebrow, “Care to elaborate?”
“Not really.” I answer quietly.
He’s obviously unimpressed by my response and begins scribbling on his notepad, while I take the opportunity to study him. Dr. Reynolds is a man in his late fifties with a rather impressive white colored comb over, probing blue eyes, and a cleft chin. He wears thin gold wire glasses but consistently peers over them when he talks to me. I think they might be reading glasses but one can never really be sure.
The office is fairly nice. There’s an expansive desk against a bay window, showing a view of the parking lot below and some of the chiropractic business across the street. Dr. Reynolds sits in front of me in his fairly large brown leather office chair, his back to his desk as I face him. I drop my gaze to a loose thread on the tweed chair I’m sitting on, and start to pick at it, waiting for his scolding. Sometimes, I think he’s worse than my mother with all the lectures.
He eventually lowers his pen and looks at me dispassionately, “Shoshanna, I can only help you if you talk to me. We’ve been over this.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then, you’re also aware that your cooperation in these sessions is also a stipulation of your outpatient status with the hospital.”
I shift in my chair a little, “Yes.”
“Then why don’t you tell me where you got those bruises on your face.”
I wipe my already sweating palms on my baggy jean legs and stare at the entwined fingers in my lap. It’s only been one night since the incident with Lawrence, and I’m still the worse for wear. I feel disgusting no matter how many baths or showers I take, or how hard I scrub my skin. I swear I could still feel his hands on me in my sleep. As a result, I kept waking up covered in sweat, shaking and crying all throughout the night.
H
e’s never taken it that far before, and now that he has, I’m not sure if I can face the possibility that he might do it again. That being said, I don’t know what else I can do. Calling the police seems like a waste of time. He hasn’t done anything other than touch and force a sloppy unwanted kiss on me. I shudder at the memory and try to shut off the building emotion as I glance at Dr. Reynolds, who continues to watch me. He doesn’t need to know about the incident.
No one does.
“I fell.”
“You fell?” He repeats doubtfully.
I hum a response and nod my head, “Yes. I s-s-slipped on some ice and fell.”
“The how do you explain the fact that they are the size of finger tips?”
My finger knots nervously on my lap, “I landed at an odd angle, I think.”
He sighs heavily and removes his glasses so he can look me directly in the eyes, “Shoshanna, we won’t get any father in your treatment if you continue to be evasive.”
“I’m not.”
“You are, and I won’t insult your intelligence by pretending that I don’t know you are,” He says before sitting back in his chair, “We need to talk about what happened the night you came under the hospital’s care and you’ve been able to evade that subject as well. I don’t need to tell you that keeping these things in is unhealthy.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I grit out, feeling my anxiety begin to escalate.
“We have to talk about it at some point, Shoshanna. You tried to kill yourself and this incident wasn’t the first time. Seven attempts in the past six years is not a simple matter to just sweep under the rug.”
I stare down at one of his framed degrees on the wall, and feel tears sting my eyes. The ‘incident’ in question is not my finest hour, I can admit that. Glancing down at my covered up arms, I remember what got me in this chair in the first place.
It’s crazy how one little thing can change everything. I had taken myself off my medications probably about two months before and I had been feeling fine. I wasn’t a happy go-lucky cheerleader, but I was feeling as melancholy as normal. I didn’t have a job yet but I was taking a few online college courses, you know just to try it out. I was on my way to being…I don’t know, normal I guess.