by Carla Hanna
Your data will help my dad and his team reanalyze the other test results and find a cure. Perhaps your pituitary gland will unlock its secrets. We know that somehow the drug damaged the gland. Obviously x-nib caused the tumor.
Second, take a step back. I was 12 when I got childhood leukemia. My Grandpa and uncle died of leukemia, too. I thought for sure I was a goner when chemo didn’t work when I was 13. Even after I was ‘cured’ I still thought I’d die by the time I graduated high school. That was a year ago, and I’m still here and still strong.
When you’re first diagnosed, you go through the 5 Steps of Grief: 1.Denial and Isolation; 2. Anger; 3. Bargaining; 4. Depression; 5. Acceptance. If you have a tumor on your gland, it’s not terminal. You’ll have an easy surgery and get it out of your brain. Trust me, you’ll live through it. I’ve experienced that the body takes a ton of abuse. I’ve had bone marrow transplants, chemo, radiation, brain surgery. It all hurts, but stay positive. Your body will heal.
I also missed lots of school. The cool thing with our condition is that I’m repeating high school. I’m finishing my junior year in Geneva. It’s actually great to repeat high school. It gave me a second chance. I study hard. I’m learning everything that I missed. I’m taking languages. I’m already fluent in French, German and English and am learning Mandarin, Italian and Russian.
Your fear of your mom dying and your fear of being infertile are overreactions right now. The fears are going to come at you—I sure had terrible nightmares—but you have to acknowledge the feelings and let them go. That was hard for me to do. I’ll help you.
Here’s what I’ve learned from facing death a few times: Bodies are resilient. We can endure a lot of physical pain. Avoid the self-inflicted emotional pain. Live life fully. Have fun. Make the most of yourself. Improve yourself. Think through your actions to make sure you can live with the consequences. Make good decisions so you can live a long, happy life.—CSY6
I felt better after reading Six’s email and ventured out of my room to find Dad. He apologized that he needed to take a red-eye flight back to Palo Alto. Two of the polo horses collided and the clinic needed him.
A pang of unfairness hit me hard. Dealing with my fear of cancer produced a new level of stress I had not experienced. It was not a physical stress like the kind I felt at awards shows or after Dad left. My knees did not buckle. I could not make up my mind to act my way out of it. It was a stressful and angry feeling that left me hollow and desperate.
Dad and I had dinner together, and then I drove him to the Los Angeles airport to take a flight to San Jose, California. Manuel hadn’t arrived to spend the night so I texted him. I studied for finals but couldn’t concentrate.
I missed Manuel so much that my chest ached.
~ INTENTIONS ~
Awake at dawn again, I found myself in the hot tub listening to the crows squawk.
Yes, Mom betrayed me and lied. But she also loved me. I saw it in her haunting eyes. I also saw it in the strain of her face. She was truly sorry. She was a good person who did a monstrous thing. I understood her but didn’t like her and would never trust her again.
“Hi. You okay?” Manuel asked from the doorway. He was in his underwear.
“Hurry in!” I shouted. “Someone could take a photo!”
I laughed when he got into the hot tub, splashing everywhere. I kept laughing, smiling. I was happy.
Manuel was confused. “You seem happy?”
“Well, I am. Content really.”
He interrupted. “How? What? Lia… after your…”
I interrupted, looking at him with a sincere smile. “I understand my mom. I’m peaceful.”
He bellowed, “¡Dios mío! You can be so mental! I will not let you forgive her. This is total bullshit!”
I just shook my head and smiled at him. He did not understand.
He fumed, “Lia, you forgive too easily. Your dad left you, you forgive him. Your parents made you live all alone for months at a time, you forgive them. Hollywood messed you up, you forgive the bastards. Byron pressured you, you forgive him. Michelle hurts you, you forgive her? I can’t allow you to keep doing this to yourself. She has to pay, to suffer! You can’t forgive her.”
“But then I suffer, too. I am furious with her but I understand that we all do bad things and make mistakes. There are very few things that are black and white. There is lots of gray.”
Manuel did not agree. I could see it in his face. He definitely thought I was mental, the willing victim.
“You think I have some Native American victim-mentality, don’t you?” I asked rhetorically with a scoff.
He threw up his hands but didn’t confirm my question.
“My Bitterroot Salish ancestors were lied to, misplaced, and deceived but my tribe overcomes adversity. I do, too—with the strength from their spirits. Of course I’m angry but I don’t see myself as a victim because I don’t see the villains in my case. I said that I understand Michelle, not that I like her. I think there are definite monsters, true villains out there—sociopaths who truly feel pleasure and power from making others suffer and feel pain. My mom is not a sociopath. I put Matthew and Dr. Mark in that category of villain, though.”
“She drugged you.”
“To me, it’s a question of intent, not of action. Did Byron intend to irritate the hell out of me? No. He thought I was complicit. He loved me. Did my mom intend to hurt me? Did she know I could get cancer from the medicine? No. She kept me beautiful and gave me a successful, envied career. She lied and deceived me and I think she’s a bitch but she didn’t think it through. Did Hollywood intend to complicate teenagers’ relationships with expectations that we all should be sleazy? No. Hollywood puts sex in movies, people watch them, and then everyone thinks people require lots of it in movies. Do consumers intend to demand Hollywood make films that way? No. They just want to be entertained. Are there unintended consequences? Absolutely!”
“There you go with your bullshit monologues. Do you actors have any sense of reality?”
I could still see that he struggled with my perceptions. He was not thinking of the context. He watched that rape scene in his head, imagining that I was really getting raped.
“I need to explain to you how I see the events that haunt you. Would that help you understand?”
He put his hands in the air and waved them with an exasperated expression, as if he were thinking, “Ms. Victim-Mentality.”
“Let’s start with the rape scene. It was the day after my fourteenth birthday. I was on set with about twenty to thirty people around me, what we call a closed set. I was prepared for what was going to happen in the scene. My mom helped me with the non-verbal script. I was ready and willing. My body was on fire with desire for Rex—thrilled with the feeling of my first kiss.
“I knew I was not being raped the whole time. I was in a safe environment. Instead, I was shocked that the feelings I had for Rex were so physical. At the same time, I was completely disgusted with myself that I felt that way. I was mad at them for not telling me that I might feel something physical during the scene and mad at my mom for not telling me that my body would be aroused. I was painfully, intensely embarrassed.
“What you saw in that scene were my conflicting emotions because you know me and knew that I wanted him off me. I absolutely did not want him to kiss or touch me. Was it Rex’s or the crew’s intention to violate my trust? No. They had no idea—I had no idea—that I would feel that way.”
He smiled. “Now, back to your delusional mental state: angel, Byron is an ass.”
“He’s a nice guy at heart who’s confused, caught up in the celebrity culture.” I was quiet for a moment thinking of the right way to explain this one. I was sure Matthew intended to rape me and was sure that Byron just wanted to make love. I’d start at the limo and go backwards to help him see it the way I did. I knew Byron. He didn’t.
“We’ll start at the limo and go backwards in time. Here’s what I saw. Byron saw Claire in the
parking lot and within a minute was probably making out with her. She was willing. She wanted him. Remember he said he saw the driver and thought the limo would be a good place to shack. Well he didn’t see that paying a driver $100 for 15 minutes was like paying the pimp and a quick score on a prostitute. Remember, Claire was the one who gave the driver $100 for 15 minutes. Was she, then, paying Byron’s pimp for the heartthrob she desired? No. Neither of them saw it that way. Together they agreed to pay for privacy. Claire desired him. Byron wanted to score. It worked for them.
“With me, it was different. But at the time Byron didn’t see that. I was so angry with him for delaying the shoot and having no concept that being so dense was costing thousands of dollars for each retake. I agreed to practice lines with him in his condo. To him, I was willing just because I was alone in his condo, because how could I not be? He thought everyone wanted him because everyone but me has wanted him. I was the exception. You know, I kept kissing him even though I kept telling him to back off. And then after I had two beers, I lost my restraint. I made out with him. I freaked out. I didn’t communicate. It confused both of us.”
“Angel, he kissed you on purpose you after you started dating me to make a future claim.”
“Is Byron evil? No; he’s a prick who’s used to getting what he wants. What was the consequence? I feel like a complete weakling and unfortunately gave him hope that he can have me. But, I’m responsible for my inaction.”
He held my hand. “You shouldn’t forgive him. Besides, a twenty-one-year-old man has no business being with a high school senior. All I saw in the limo was some shameless prick pleased with himself for having a posse of pussy.”
“You and your alliterations,” I laughed.
I moved in closer to him. “You don’t agree with me but I’m glad you understand how I feel about all this because we’re a team, you know. Together we are a guardian angel. You protect and I forgive. We both love. Together we figure out what is right and wrong for ourselves. We can help each other thrive rather than just endure.”
~ ¿QUÉ? ¿POR QUÉ? ~
It was Tuesday. I loved my lunch that day. I spaced bringing my lunch from home so I bought pizza, chocolate milk, and an apple. It was heaven. After lunch, I headed to my chemistry final.
Kate was sitting at the table we shared when I got to the classroom. We had just said “hi” to each other since I had returned because I was dating her ex. I always felt embarrassed, like I had stolen him from her.
“Hi Marie, can I talk with you after the exam?”
“Sure, Kate, I’ll probably take a lot longer than you to finish. Where do you want to meet?”
“I’ll wait in the cafeteria. Do you want me to get you a Diet Coke?”
“Okay,” I agreed as the teacher passed out the final.
It took me the whole hour to finish the exam. I found Kate in the cafeteria and hesitantly sat next to her, not knowing how to be around her since she hurt my feelings so deeply when she abandoned our friendship.
I said, “Thanks for the Coke,” awkwardly and drank several gulps to give me something to do.
Kate started, “School’s done. We’re graduating. You were my best friend and I’ve missed you. I’ve missed Manny.”
“I’ve missed you, too, so much. I’m sorry I’m dating Manny. It just kind of happened. He was really torn up about your break-up and I was sad you dumped me so we emailed a lot. Stuff happened with my co-star, too. We were there for each other…”
Kate interrupted, “I don’t want to talk about you both. It hurts.”
She stared at the wall. “In case I don’t see you again, I have to tell you how I screwed up my life. I know you’ll tell Manny, and he deserves to know, but please promise you won’t tell anyone else. Alan has already humiliated me, and he doesn’t even know the half of it. Can you promise?”
“Yeah, sure, absolutely, Kate, I promise. You were my best friend, too.” I responded with overwhelming guilt for dating my ex-best girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend.
Kate stared at her hands on the table. They were tightly fisted around each other. Her knuckles were white. Her expression was of embarrassment, her cheeks flushed. I could tell this was hard for her and was going to be serious.
“What is it, Kate?” I asked.
“I loved Manny. But I knew he loved you more. It made me crazy. It made me do a really stupid thing.”
She glanced at me and her eyes were wet. Tears fell down her cheeks. I put my hand on her shoulder to show her comfort and then removed it to not step over a line.
I scrambled to find the words to make her feel better and tell her I didn’t intend to hurt her. “I’m sorry. We only acknowledged our feelings after you guys broke up. He was really torn up. He wanted to marry you.”
“I know,” she said. “I really messed things up. Then I was in so deep that I knew I didn’t deserve him.” She looked out of the cafeteria window, remembering the pain of the break-up and what she did.
“When you came out for the Homecoming football game I watched you two in the stands while I was cheering. I saw how you both looked at each other, how happy you were together, and I knew that he loved you and that you loved him. His feelings were clearly more than platonic. I saw him close his eyes and smell your hair when you hugged him. I couldn’t ignore it. I wanted to hate you.” She glowered at me and I shuddered. “I should have seen it when you were dating Evan. He said something once but I didn’t understand what he meant until I saw it for myself. He said that it was time for him to bow out because he witnessed true love. Ya know, you hurt him. Evan loved you and was so nice to you, so respectful—more than Manny was to me, ever—and you just blew him off.”
“No, Kate. I…”
“Bullshit, Marie. Everyone is in love with you and you pretend you don’t know it! You say, “Oh, poor me, it’s so hard to be a product.” Puke. You want power and control, just like me. You want to own Manny, too—keep him yours forever and get that feeling of calm you get only from him. Stop trying to fool yourself and see you for the bitch you are.”
“I’m so outta here!” I complained and stood up but didn’t walk away.
Kate stared out the window and continued, “I complained to Manny at the Homecoming dance but he denied that he loved you more than as a friend. He said that it was a platonic love. That he was like your brother. I told him that he needed to show me that he loved me, to prove it to me. He got that tattoo. But it wasn’t enough.”
I sat back down in the chair beside her. She knew I would. The bitch grinned at me.
“I told him he’d have to make love to me. When he hesitated, asked me if I was sure that’s what I wanted, I thought he didn’t want me because he wanted to wait for you. Ya know that Manny is Señor Self-righteous and thought I was a virgin and put me on some pedestal for it. But he’s a guy, so it was so easy to change his mind. Afterwards, I thought that I had won his heart.”
“You did have his heart, Kate. He loved you. You told me he acted like the king of the universe.” I confirmed, trying to look her in the eye but she remained unmoved.
“I lied. He thought he had sinned.” She shook her head and explained, “Watch out, his priest will know every detail of your love life. Anyway, about a week later, we were in the grocery store and he saw your photo on a makeup display. His reaction was clear. He was in love with you. So I bought some magazines and tabloids that advertised the ‘Muse’ premiere and had pictures of you with Byron and with Evan and put them in front of him. I confronted him. I told him it was me or you. He chose me. After we made love I told him he could never talk to you again. He said he loved me, but couldn’t make the promise not to talk to you again, that you were family.”
Kate scrutinized me with scornful eyes, “Marie, I was furious.”
I interrupted, “I didn’t know I loved him until after you dumped him. He’s honest, and neither of us would ever have cheated on you.”
“Marie, I know that. But I was so jealous. After we did it t
he third time I did a horrible thing to try to keep him all for myself.”
“Did you make it all up?” I hesitated to ask, but had to ask, knowing the answer already.
“Yes,” Kate whimpered. “I lied about being pregnant. I just wanted him to only want me. I wanted him to commit to me like he did when I mislead him about being a virgin. But then when he did, when he wanted to get married and have the baby with me, I had to get out of the lie. Since there was no baby, I either had to say that I miscarried or get a fake abortion. But then it got complicated because he thought I cheated on him. I thought I could tell him we made love when he was drunk but he said he remembered all three times we did it. Then he wanted to know the exact date of my last period, everything. There was no way I could have kept up the charade forever, beginning a marriage with a lie and then another lie that I miscarried. Then I figured he’d dump me after I pretended a miscarriage since he didn’t believe the conception lie in the first place.
“Then in typical Manny drama, he talks to his parents and then to my dad without telling me! He asks permission to marry me. Who the hell does that? After I say ‘yes’ to Manny, we go tell my dad who’s already got a prenuptial agreement ready for Manny to sign and it only gives us a ten million dollar trust. How the hell was I supposed to live on only $10 million while Manny’s in school for a hundred years?! I’m not going to live in an apartment that’s the size of my bedroom at home! I realized that no matter what, I could never have a relationship with Manny because he didn’t get my needs in life. He was too good, too clueless. I lied. I messed it all up.”
I sat there, horrified. What a bitch! No wonder it was such a rollercoaster ride. The drama was all fiction. She enticed Manuel with the lie that she was a virgin to get him interested in her. She ended the relationship with a terrible lie to hurt him. I didn’t have anything to say, so I said nothing. I wanted to get up and leave but she had more to say.