by Amy Durham
But I had told Adrian.
No, no, no! Adrian would not do this to me. He would not hurt me this way.
It was completely unfair that my dad wasn’t here for me to scream at. Every bit of this was his fault. All the questions, lies, embarrassment. All of it.
God, Dad! You’ve totally ruined everything! I’m so messed up, so scared, so humiliated. You should be here so I could yell and scream and blame you. You should be here to help me with my math. You should be here so I could apologize for being so awful to you the last time we talked. You should be here.
Fog seemed to fill the room, seeping into every available space and pressing into me as if it were alive. The air turned humid and a dank smell filled my nostrils. Through the murkiness, the hazy figure of my dad appeared. Leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, he watched me with something almost giddy in his eyes.
My heart surged with an odd combination of joy and dread. Something was terribly wrong. How could he look happy while I sat in the floor of the school bathroom and grieved for him and all we’d lost?
I thought of my dream, of the way he hadn’t even looked at me when he told me it was too late. Could it be that the damage could not be undone?
“Daddy.” The whispered word scalded my throat as I said it. In those two syllables lived every fear, every regret, and every hope I possessed. Surely he would take pity on me.
The laughter startled me. Wild and maniacal and unlike any sound I’d ever heard from my father. For a moment my mind couldn’t process it, couldn’t understand it. But then reality hit like a load of bricks crashing over me.
He was laughing at me.
He was amused by my misery.
And I had no one to blame but myself.
His figure faded then, and the last image I saw was of his delight at my self-destruction.
The tears came then, and because I could not hold back any longer, I let them. I cried. And cried. And cried.
* * *
Adrian strolled into the girls’ bathroom like it was no big deal, and sat down beside me. I lifted my eyes to his, positive that I looked like a red raccoon. He said nothing. Just reached for me and pulled me into his lap.
As his arms came around me I remembered the conversation I wanted to have with him, but now was not the time. I was devastated and he was here, not saying a word, not trying to fix things, not giving me unwanted advice. Just holding me, letting his warmth seep into me as the last few tears slid down my cheeks.
His ability to comfort me was almost supernatural, and I wondered again about the visions I’d seen of him in my room. Whoever or whatever he was, I needed him.
I’d figure out the rest later.
Chapter 14
Adrian walked me to the front office and told the secretary I wasn’t feeling well. Understatement of the year. She promptly called my mom to come and pick me up.
As I took a seat in the waiting area, I realized I hadn’t said the first word to Adrian since he waltzed into the girls’ restroom.
“Thanks,” I whispered, fixing my eyes on the speckled white tiles of the floor.
“Of course.” He sat next to me and leaned close, propping his elbows in his knees. “I’ll bring your assignments over after school and make sure you get caught up on Pre-Cal.”
I nodded. Where was the sense of comfort he usually gave me? Why was my gut still churning inside? Maybe Adrian didn’t have superpowers after all.
I shook my head at my own foolishness. Thinking Adrian had some kind of supernatural ability. Geez.
“It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling,” he said. “Sometimes you’ve got to feel the hurt, go through it, before you can start to heal.”
I looked at him then, turned his words of wisdom over in my head. I wasn’t sure about healing, but I was sure as hell feeling the hurt.
* * *
After the initial check of my forehead for fever and the typical questions about nausea, headache, and sore throat – of which nausea was the only thing I admitted to – my mom drove me home. We didn’t talk.
A hundred different emotions ran through me. Anger. Bitterness. Humiliation. Fear. Confusion. And the ever-present grief and guilt. It all bubbled and simmered like a pool of poison ready to erupt.
Just as mom turned into the driveway, I broke the silence.
“Did you know the woman Dad cheated with?”
Mom looked at me, and I pinned her with my gaze, wanting to know I was dead serious. I saw the reluctance in her eyes. She did not want to go there. I also knew the moment she decided to answer me, because her expression changed, like she knew if I was giving her an opening to talk about Dad, she’d better take it.
“I knew her name, but not much else,” she said, pulling the car to a stop in the driveway. “He said she’d moved to town a few years ago and wasn’t connected to anyone here.”
True enough. I remembered when Courtney came to Rison Middle School in the seventh grade.
“What was her name?”
“Zoe, don’t do this,” Mom pleaded. “Don’t dredge up specifics. It won’t change what happened.”
“What was her name, Mom?” I demanded.
She took a deep breath and shook her head. “Mitzi Wayne.”
Bingo.
“That’s Courtney Powell’s mother.”
“Oh God.” Mom’s voice shook. “The different last names. I never put it together.”
“Yeah, well Courtney did. She dropped it on me in the lobby in front of everyone.”
I watched my mom’s heart break all over again, as pain filled her eyes. “Zoe…”
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” I said, opening the car door and grabbing my backpack. “He’s the one who did it. Just don’t expect me to get over it any time soon.”
“I’ll call the office,” she said just before I got out of the car. Desperation laced her voice. “I’ll tell them I can’t come back in today.”
“Go back to the office, Mom.” I stepped out of the car, but turned back to face her. “I don’t want company. And if you stay, I’m not talking to you about this.”
I shut the car door with a quiet click rather than a slam, then marched to the house, went inside, and cried all over again.
* * *
I heard the roar of Adrian’s motorcycle pulling into the driveway. Glancing at the clock, I knew he had come straight here from school.
I made my way to the front door and stepped out onto the porch, trying without much success to tamp down on the mountain of self-pity I’d wallowed in all day.
He cut the engine and parked the bike, placing his helmet on the seat and unhooking his book bag from the back where it was secured with the bungee cord.
“Have you been alone all day?” he asked, approaching the front porch.
I nodded, and I could tell that my confirmation did not sit well with him.
“Did you tell your mom?” He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, not stepping up onto the porch, putting us at eye-level.
“Yes,” I said. “She tried to insist on staying home the rest of the day, but I told her I didn’t want company.”
“That still true?” he asked with an almost-grin and questioning eyes. “Do you still not want company?”
“I always want your company,” I whispered, mustering what I could of a smile. “Come on in.”
His eyes narrowed. “Your mom going to be okay with that?”
I shrugged. At this point, I didn’t care whether she was or not. But, I wanted Adrian’s first impression on Mom to be a good one. “As long as she finds us fully clothed somewhere other than the bedroom, it’ll be fine.”
He stepped up onto the porch, snaking an arm around my waist and pulling me close enough to press a brief kiss to my forehead. “The kitchen table it is then.”
And despite everything that had happened, my insides swooned.
* * *
Homework took a bit longer than usual, because I had to catch up on everything,
but Adrian and I managed to work through it all and get Pre-Calculus finished just as Mom came in the door. Adrian’s normally calm expression tensed up, nervousness showing in his eyes.
“You wanted to meet my mom,” I said, nudging him with my elbow.
“Zoe?” Mom called from the living room.
“Kitchen,” I replied.
“Zoe, we’re going to have to –” She stopped midsentence, stepping into the kitchen and finding Adrian with me.
“Mom, this is Adrian Shaw, Ms. Turner’s nephew. He came by to bring my assignments to me.”
“Oh.” She dropped her keys on the counter, the metal clanking together as she sat her purse beside them. “That was very nice of you.”
“Nice to meet you Mrs. Gray.” Adrian stood, shaking my mom’s hand like a perfect gentleman. The look on her face told me she was impressed.
“Zoe told me you’ve been helping her with Pre-Calculus.”
Adrian nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“He’s a math genius, Mom,” I said, startled by the chipper ring to my voice. But then again, Adrian tended to bring that out in me.
Mom’s eyes cut toward me, surprise on her face. I knew she still wanted to talk about the big who-my-dad-banged-on-the-side revelation, but she must’ve decided it could wait. Thank God.
“Adrian, can you stay for dinner?” Mom asked, heading for the refrigerator.
Adrian looked at me, gauging my reaction to the invitation. If it would put off the inevitable share-your-feelings session with my mom, I was all for it. Besides, I liked having him around.
I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders.
“Thanks Mrs. Gray. That would be great.”
* * *
After dinner, we ended up back at the creek bank. Adrian’s impeccable manners and genuine demeanor had won Mom over enough that she didn’t object, despite that fact that I still didn’t exactly have social privileges.
We didn’t talk as we spread the blanket he’d pulled from the saddlebag out on the grass, directly beneath a huge oak tree that was probably older than the town.
The worn, rust-colored wool was soft against my legs as we sat. Adrian leaned against the tree trunk, and I leaned against Adrian with his arm around me. The water in the creek trickled sparsely. I imagined once the semi-drought we’d been experiencing ended, the rush of water would be brisk.
Adrian turned his face toward my ear and I felt the warm rush of his breath as he whispered, “Wanna talk?”
Laying my head on his shoulder, I was silent for a long moment. Long enough that he must’ve thought I didn’t want to talk.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to.”
“I just don’t know what to say,” I said, searching for words to convey my feelings and coming up rather empty. “It’s so surreal, you know? That scene in the lobby this morning, it was like adding insult to injury.”
“It was lousy, that’s for sure.” His arm tightened around my side, and for the first time since the explosion about Courtney’s mom, I felt not only the companionship of Adrian’s presence, but also the warmth and soothing comfort I’d come to associate with him. “I wish I’d been there.”
“I don’t know why it makes a difference. I knew my dad cheated. Knowing who he cheated with shouldn’t make it any worse.”
“But it does.”
And there was the precise reason I’d bonded so intensely with Adrian. He just got it. Somehow, some way, he understood.
“Yeah.”
“Have you thought about…” he started to say. “Never mind.”
I sat up straighter, turning to look at him, his lids lowered over baby blues full of genuine sweetness.
“What?”
“I don’t want to overstep.” He reached up, running his hand through a blond lock of my hair.
“You’re allowed to overstep.”
He let out a heavy breath, laying his hand gently against my cheek. “Have you thought about forgiving your dad?”
My eyes dropped to the blanket, the shame I felt preventing me from looking him in the eye.
Thought about it? I’d dreamed about it. And in every scenario I’d played in my mind, the result was always the same. It was too little, too late, and my hatred and contempt was the last thing he felt from me before he died.
I had no one to blame for that but myself.
And this latest shocker – that it was Courtney’s mom he’d gotten busy with – had just dropped me right back in the middle of all that contempt.
“I don’t know if I can,” I said, more ashamed than I’d ever been in my life.
It was the truth, and I hated myself for it.
“You’ve got every right to feel that way.” He lifted my face with a soft finger beneath my chin. “What he did was wrong on so many levels. But forgiveness isn’t something you do only for the other person. It’s something you do for yourself, so that you can go on with your life.”
He was right. I knew he was right, and yet…
“I know that up here.” I tapped my index finger against my temple. “It’s all very logical. But in here,” I said, placing my hand over my heart, “all I feel is this awful betrayal.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with you for feeling that way. What happened wasn’t fair. Courtney humiliating you the way she did wasn’t fair. Coming to terms with what happened to your family isn’t something you’re going to do on anyone else’s timetable. Situations like this don’t come with a manual. You’ll deal with it in your own time.”
His words were exactly what I needed to hear, but his pleading eyes were telling a different story.
“Why do I hear a but at the end of that statement?”
He reached for both of my hands, encased them with his own, and held them between us. “I want you to be able to have the life that you deserve. And the way you feel right now is hindering that.”
Not exactly breaking news, I thought.
“And I’m not saying it’s your fault, because it isn’t. But until you can forgive, the emotional fallout from this tragedy is going to get in the way of everything. College. Your future plans. Your relationship with your mom. Your friendships.” He picked up our joined hands and kissed my fingertips, once, twice, three times. “This.” His eyes locked on mine. “You and me.”
Fear shot through me, hot and sharp, lancing nerves that were already raw and exposed. Was he saying he couldn’t handle being with such a basket case? Not that I’d fault him for that, but the idea of losing him filled me with panic.
“I don’t blame you if you don’t want to stick around.” My voice quivered, threatening to give away the dread inside me.
“I’m not trying to rush or push you, or tell you just to get over it. I know it’s not that simple,” he said, squeezing my hands. “And I don’t want to go anywhere.”
I stared back down at the blanket.
“Look at me Zoe.”
When I looked up at him, he leaned close, until we were practically nose-to-nose. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay here with you. But…” He stopped, took a deep breath as if he was trying to find the right words. “Sometimes things happen and we don’t get what we want. Especially at our age. Sometimes things are out of our control.”
He was being awfully cryptic, but I think I got the point. “Are you afraid your parents will insist you go to Europe to be with them?”
“Something like that isn’t outside the realm of possibility,” he said. “And if that happens, if I have to leave, I want things solid between us. I don’t want to have to leave until you and I are, well… until we’re are a unit.”
I liked that idea, the two of us as a unit. I also knew he was right. About all of it. I just didn’t know how to make it happen.
“I’ll try,” I said. “I’ll work really hard on the forgiveness thing.”
His face lit up, hope and happiness evident in his smile. “I’ll help.”
“You already have.”
I meant what
I’d said about trying. But not even the look in his eyes could kill the doubt in my soul. Somewhere deep in my heart was the firm belief that I would live with this misery for the rest of my life.
And that I absolutely, positively deserved it.
Chapter 15
Awful didn’t even begin to describe the next morning at school. The bright-white walls of the new school felt like a prison, plain and colorless, confining me to the humiliation I’d suffered here the previous day. When I wasn’t fielding questions about the validity of Courtney’s claims, I was enduring looks of the poor-pitiful-Zoe variety from every direction.
I lost count of how many times I said, “My parents’ marriage was their business before my dad died, and it’s still their business”, or something to that effect. I felt like I was at a never ending press conference and all I could say was “no comment”.
For the most part, I said nothing else. Until I encountered Viv and Daniel at my locker.
“Is it true?” Daniel spoke while Viv looked at the floor. “Or was she just being a bitch?”
Since they’d witnessed the messy exchange yesterday, I felt like I owed them the truth. Then there was the fact that my father’s infidelity was the part of the story I’d withheld from Viv, and I figured it was time to come clean.
“She was definitely being a bitch,” I began. “But what she said was true.”
“And you didn’t know?” Daniel asked.
Viv looked up at me then, all kinds of confusion swimming in her eyes. Compassion and regret, and at the same time distrust and uncertainty. In that moment I wished so badly that I’d told her everything. She would’ve been there for me, no questions asked.
Hindsight.
“I knew about the affair,” I admitted and watched Viv’s eyes turn misty and sad. “Just not who it was with.”
The hurt in Viv’s eyes cut me to my soul. I knew she thought I hadn’t trusted her enough to confide in her and I searched every corner of my brain for words to express that it had nothing to do with not trusting her and everything to do with how ashamed I was of the situation.