“Lucy, where is this coming from, all of a sudden?” I felt like I was in a bear trap, fighting her advances; the only way to get out was to either die or chew my own arm off.
“I don’t want anyone else but you, David. I never will.” She was serious, her intensity was proof.
Now, you would think, as a guy who was in love with this stunning girl, that I would be freaking out that she finally agreed to be a normal teenager who does normal teenager things. But I wasn’t happy about this sudden turn of events. In fact, it scared me. It wasn’t anything like I had imagined things going.
“No Lucy.” I shook my head and slid around her again, to pick up her ring. I grabbed her arm and slid the ring back on her finger, kissing her hand gently when I was done. She looked at it for a second and then stamped her foot. She wrenched the ring off and threw it on the ground, her jaw set. Danger, Will Robinson.
“Why don’t you want me?” She sounded hurt, which was totally absurd. I tried to reach out for her hand but the look on her face made me think better of it, so I stayed where I was and folded my hands in front of me again.
“Luce, of course I do--”
“Good.” She interrupted me, smiled and walked over to me, but I slid away from her again. She glared at me and I felt myself getting angrier.
“Oh you’re ready? Lucy is ready, so David needs to just jump when she says jump? Should I ask you how high, my queen? Are you going to throw a fit and stomp your feet again if I don’t?” I glared right back at her. “What about me? Have you stopped to consider if this is something I’m ready for? And what about your parents? Do I just ignore that I promised your father I would wait for you?”
Her eyes were getting red. The gleam of tears was building up in the corners, threatening to spill over. Usually, tears made me retreat, but this time I just felt even more manipulated.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said defensively.
“Yes you did, Lucy, that’s exactly how you meant it. You are so used to getting whatever you want, whenever you want it. And as much as I love you and want to make you happy, I am not your little puppet.” I spat the last few words out, relieved at how true they sounded.
“What’s wrong with you?” now she looked confused, which made me even more upset.
“Do you really not get this? I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Lucy, and I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. You’re acting like this is your decision to make. Have you ever considered it’s something we were committing to together or was it always about you? And then, if I go with this, tomorrow you’re going to hate me and you’re going to put all the blame off yourself and put it on the fact that ‘I wanted this’ and you didn’t take your Ritalin. I’m trying to stop that from happening. I’m trying to keep this a joint effort. And you are making it difficult for me, which is making me really mad.”
“So you think I don’t know what I want?” she said, mocking my tone word-for-word.
“No, actually, I don’t think you do,” I answered honestly.
Her face instantly went from angry and tearful to blank. It was the freakiest change in the whole freaky evening. She stared at me for a moment, totally still, then spoke in a low voice.
“You should feel lucky someone wants you, David.”
She turned around, picked up her little ring and threw it at me.
I went numb; I felt hurt and angry. I had this weird feeling that my hearing was off and everything was a little out of focus, like I was unexpectedly looking at all this from the end of a long tunnel. I had caught the ring when she threw it at me. Was she still inviting me? Was she making fun of me? I could feel my temper rising from my bones, my whole body getting tense. I clenched my fist as I walked towards her.
Her eyes widened when she saw me and she started backing away. As she bumped against the wall behind her my fist came down next to her face, my knuckles screaming in protest as they dented the perfectly painted surface. Little bits of paint and the underlying sheetrock flew away from my hand, some hitting the side of her face before they fell. She looked at me and then at my fist, out of the corner of her eyes. They started to well up again, but I didn’t care. My life had been an emotional roller coaster from the moment I had decided to go after her in the lake. I had changed so much and I thought it was for the better, it turns out I was just her little puppet. Now it was me speaking through clenched teeth.
“You’re just a stupid little girl, Lucy. I should have let you drown.” She gasped, like I had knocked the wind out of her. And once the words came out I almost wished I could take them back but my anger kept me going. I wanted to finish saying what I had to say. “I knew this God thing wasn’t real to you. You need to figure out who you are before you try to change everyone around you.”
“Get out,” she whispered, trembling, still pinned under my body.
That was the first time I realized I was shaking with anger. I loosened my stance quickly and backed up, my hands in the air so she wouldn’t be as afraid.
“Lucy, I…”
“Get out!” She screamed, pushing me against the counter. Her voice was so loud it prompted a rumbling from upstairs. Her parents were coming down to make sure their precious girl was safe and happy and getting what she wanted.
“Fine,” I hissed at her. I flung open the bathroom door and stormed past her parents without acknowledging them. Both looked shocked when they saw my completely exposed face and barely contained rage. I didn’t even care. I just fumbled with the front door until it opened, slamming it behind me. The cold air was a relief, like walking out of an inferno.
I left the lights of Lucy’s house behind me and started walking. As I got further away from her house, my lungs filled with breath after deep breath of cold air and I started to think clearly. This was, literally, officially, the worst night ever. I could feel my life come crumbling down around me. Lucy’s words: ”you should feel lucky someone wants you,” were the only thing playing in my head, over and over. It was like a broken record machine that I couldn’t turn off, that hit every bad, sad, angry thought I’d ever had and made all of it real. I finally unclenched my hands and realized I was still holding Lucy’s ring. It had made an angry red indent in my tightly closed fist.
The fiasco of the last twenty-four hours washed over me. All of the emotions I’d felt, all of the fear, guilt, and frustration came over me and I couldn’t do anything but yell. I stood in front of some random person’s house, early on a dark morning, and screamed at the top of my lungs at anything, everything. Dogs started howling along, but no lights came on. No one even noticed me. I broke off and started running.
I hated that house, I hated the people that lived in it and I really hated this gaping hole in my chest that felt like someone had punched my heart out.
20. ISAIAH
I didn’t get the deposit back on the zoot suit. They wanted the jacket with the suit pants and, as far as I knew, Rachel was still sucking on it somewhere.
My grandma hit the roof when she finally saw me. When she’d arrived at Lucy's house they told her I’d driven myself home. When she investigated, she’d discovered that I’d known she was coming and I’d still left the house alone. I was in for it; she was the most furious I’d even seen her.
I couldn’t even apologize. I would have done it again in a heartbeat.
“What’s wrong with you, David?! Don’t you think of anyone but yourself?” My grandma spat, storming around her little living room. I had no energy to calm her down. I just shrugged and looked at the floor. A shower and bed were all I wanted right now. For the rest of my life, actually. I guess she finally noticed how out of it I was because she put her hand on my face and made me look at her.
“What happened, David? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”
I slipped out of my grandmother’s hands and sat down on the reclining chair. I put my hands through my hair and hung on to the roots, like those crazy people do in movies.
“I’m still trying
to figure out what just happened.” Looking up at her, I saw that she had calmed herself enough to sit down and try to not talk while I got my thoughts together. She adopted a worried look instead of her furious one, but I was pretty sure that would only last a moment before I told her what happened tonight. My grandma was so uncomfortable. She didn’t know what was going on and wanted so badly to help me.
I decided to just tell her.
“I got mad at Lucy tonight.” I felt like I was going to throw up. “I told her that I wished she just drowned.” My face fell into my hands as the realization of what I had actually said to my girlfriend washed over me. It was the worst thing I could have ever said to her, and the most untrue words my lips ever uttered.
I looked up slowly to see my grandma’s reaction. I’d expected her to get upset but instead she just looked questioningly at me.
“What did she say to you?”
“After I said that to her?” I asked, confused by what she meant.
“No, to make you say that.” For a second, I had to pause in surprise that that was the first question she had. It was so unlike any reaction I was used to, but was the most insightful question that could have been asked. Grandma was the closest thing I’d ever had to a mother and mothers knew those kinds of things, I guess.
I patted my hair down on my face, realizing for the first time since my grandma had been home that my face was completely clean and free of hair. I instantly felt even more depressed. That had been such an amazing moment, letting go like I had. Remembering that moment and the ugliness that had followed, I re-realized how betrayed I felt.
“She told me that I was lucky someone wanted me.” My insides became fire as I said it, a new hole starting next to the old one in my heart. No words were big enough to express how much that phrase, coming from Lucy Peterson’s mouth, had hurt me.
Grandma looked at me with those old eyes that knew me too well and smiled, not a happy smile, but one that old people get when they realize how young you are.
“You know she didn’t mean that.”
“Whether she did or didn’t, she still said it.” I looked sternly at my grandmother because I could tell she was going to start defending Lucy. “You don’t do something because you know it will hurt someone just to get your way.” I crossed my arms defiantly.
“Like how you told her you wished she drowned?” Grandma still looked very kindly at me but I didn’t want to hear it, no matter how right she was. It was a strange feeling, going from being willing to do anything for Lucy to not wanting to talk to her at all. I had no desire to be around her; even thinking about her made me feel sick. I couldn't have cared less if I never saw her or talked to her again. Half of that feeling came from the fact that I was upset with her, but I think the biggest part was that I had affirmed that I was becoming a person who reacted exactly the way my father did.
“I don’t want to hear it, Grandma.”
“Don’t you look at me like that.” She glared. I relaxed my shoulders and stopped glaring, not wanting to fight anymore, least of all with my grandma.
I felt miserable and didn’t want to talk with her anymore. She always made me see my fault in situations so I had to go and change it.
Right now I just wanted to be mad. She knew it, too.
“I understand why you’re upset, David; what she said was mean. But how you choose to react is what you’re going to have to own. Let Lucy worry about her part in this; you worry about yours.”
She walked over to me and stood me up. “If you live in a world where you justify your own cruelty then you’re doing something wrong.” She patted my check then gave me a strong hug. I felt her love seep through her skin. What an amazing thing, to have this woman in my life. I wished it had always been like this; I’d be a different person.
I knew I had to deal with the Dad thing. Everything my grandma was saying about becoming like him was happening. She was right about figuring out how to forgive him. But there was the million-dollar question. How do you forgive someone who didn’t deserve forgiving? How do you forgive someone who, as far as I knew, didn’t even want to be forgiven? Maybe I should just go up to him and say, “Hey, jerk, I forgive you for being a jerk.” Plus, I wasn’t sure it was useful. Would I just live the rest of my life pretending that my history with my dad never existed?
I thought about the time I climbed up that ridiculous ladder to Lucy’s room and overheard her mother telling her the importance of forgiveness. She said that it was a choice that you sometimes had to make daily. All I really knew was that I hated my dad and I didn’t want to be like him and, according to my grandma, those two things went hand in hand. So I had to figure out a way to not hate him. I thought about a wife I might have someday, and the children we would have together. I would rather burn a million times over than mistreat them.
I had always felt that way, but tonight I had found myself in a situation where I could have proved that and I failed dismally. The look in Lucy’s eyes replayed in my mind and it made me want to shrivel up and disappear. She’d been terrified; all trust had left her.
“Grandma, I’m going to bed.” I walked to my room, not even bothering to ask if I could leave. My room was filled with things that reminded me of Lucy. Her brown jacket with the bright pink fur around the hood lay crumpled on my chair. There were hair ties scattered around my room, and I knew I would find a few of her socks in my laundry the next time I folded it. I looked down at my pinky finger, where her little purity ring still resided. It only reached my knuckle. It was so small. It was beautiful and sparkled when I moved it, just the way Lucy had. I closed my eyes and put my hand down, out of my view. I was going to have to stop thinking about her charms. I didn’t want a girlfriend who said one thing and wanted another.
Dragging me to church then trying to take my virginity had been bizarre. I knew I wasn’t ready for the sex chapter in my life to be opened yet. An even bigger worry for me, though, was that I didn’t think Lucy was ready for it. She was trying to do something wild, and wasn’t really thinking about what it meant in the grand scheme of things. Knowing that and going along with all of it would have been wrong. Besides, after the way I’d acted tonight, I wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility.
Besides, I had this weird commitment I couldn’t explain with Mr. Peterson. I respected and appreciated him too much to just flip-flop like that.
* * *
Over the next seven weeks I didn’t have much time to think about Lucy. Johnny and I spent that time taking turns helping Isaiah as he was healing. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I would spend my whole lunch period doing my homework so I wouldn’t have to do it that evening. Then I would drive to Kalispell directly after school to be with Isaiah.
I’d also spend Saturday and Sundays with him, usually just sleeping in his house in one of the many vacant rooms. Johnny did Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
Isaiah lived a crazy life. We’d always known it but it became very obvious after The Barn. The boy nearly burned to death; he spent a week in the hospital recovering. Then he was sent to a burn unit were they did intensive surgery that included skin grafting. His parents were never so much as five minutes late for work. Isaiah was taken care of, financially anyways, but his father was just as negligent as mine. It was in a different way, though. Mine was physically abusive while his was physically non-existent.
Isaiah’s dad was a successful lawyer who had it all: a beautiful home, a beautiful wife, and a son to take on the family fortune. The tricky part was that he was a closet alcoholic who hid himself in his office all night and never came out. Isaiah’s mom found other things to do, outside of the house, to distract herself from her husband not being there.
So Johnny and I were left to take care of our friend. I think he preferred it that way. Even with all the hospital time, he was still Isaiah, which was an amazing relief. Set the guy on fire and he can still pull out the funny in every situation and treat it like a joke. Granted, his sarcasm was lessened when he
was on his pain medicine, which he had to take often. But he still brought out a few zingers when the occasion called for it.
The funniest was when Evelyn would show up at his house to help us. She usually came over unannounced, which would leave Isaiah completely frazzled. Johnny and I would pop up a bag of popcorn, sit back in chairs and watch. The first time, we did it as a joke, but it was such a legitimately good show that we kept it up. Evelyn would wobble into the room, leg in cast, crutch under her arm, looking grumpy as ever but determined to help. She fussed over Isaiah, making sure his pillow was perfect, his water was filled, and his medicine was near him. I couldn’t tell if Isaiah enjoyed her company or not. Sometimes, when he didn’t think we were looking, he was super nice to her, responding to her talkativeness with a smile or thanking her when she would give him something. But most of the time he just clicked his tongue at her and sneered when she spoke. There was an awful lot of huffing involved as well.
I asked him one day, after she had left, why he was so mean to her.
“I don’t know, man, she’s like seriously pretty, and all up in my business.” Isaiah seemed irritated by the fact that I hadn’t missed the gorgeous female in his room.
“She is pretty, Isaiah. I’m surprised though, about how non-evil she is.” I was thinking of what she and Rachel had done when we’d been out bowling.
“It’s a shame,” he responded.
“So, you don’t like her?”
“I don’t know; I guess she’s cool.” Isaiah hid his long face from me by putting his pillow on top of his head. We were in his freshly cleaned room, courtesy of Evelyn. He lay on his bed with his bandaged leg up on a few fluffed pillows.
“She seems to like you.” I spoke carefully, trying to hide my shock at this display of nervousness from the normally stone-cold Isaiah.
“You think?” He looked out his bedroom window and chewed on his lip. “She practically gave me a sponge bath the other day.” He started to laugh, but stopped short and sucked in deeply. He did that whenever he hurt himself, by either rubbing his leg the wrong way or moving too fast. He continued, pointing to his leg. “I think she might just feel guilty. Whenever she gives me my pain medication she tells me how dumb it was to go in after her.”
My Stupid Girl Page 28