We Were Ghosts--The Secret Life of a Survivor

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We Were Ghosts--The Secret Life of a Survivor Page 7

by Tabitha Barret


  He leaned back but kept his arms around me. His bright blue eyes looked almost gray as he spoke. “I can’t believe the nerve of him. I can’t stand guys who take advantage of girls. You were obviously confused and maybe curious, but you didn’t give him permission to kiss you. He didn’t care about what you wanted. He took what he wanted,” he said coldly, with an edge to his voice.

  His stark version of the events made me cry even harder. “He called me a tease and said that I secretly wanted him to kiss me but would tell everyone that he forced himself on me,” I babbled, unable to keep my jaw from shaking.

  Zack removed his arms from my shoulders and backed up. He started pacing and kicking the rocks and leaves all around us. He finally threw his hands in the air and looked at me. “Don’t you dare believe him! He did the wrong thing, not you. All your friends were kissing people, and sure, you were slightly interested, but that didn’t give him the right to swoop in and touch you. He didn’t even talk to you or get to know you. Did he even ask for your name before he mashed his lips against yours?” His anger was almost comforting. He felt as outraged as I had in the bathroom, before Mitch had tried to blame me.

  “No,” I said shaking my head, “Though, Megan might have told him.”

  He shook his head and crossed him arms. “He’s just like the guys in the locker room during gym and the guys on the football team from my old school. They treated women as if they were cardboard. They were disposable and one was identical to the other. One guy even said that the girl wanted it. The next day I overheard the girl telling her friends that she tried to push Kevin off of her, but he wouldn’t listen. It makes me sick. No one is allowed to touch you without your permission. Don’t let this jerk make you feel bad about yourself. You don’t owe him anything, not even an explanation,” he said, still pacing.

  I wanted to cry again, but this time it was because he understood. He understood what it felt like to have control taken away from him. My heart ached for him because he knew what it was like. I liked him even more because he was defending me.

  “I’ll remember,” I said wiping my nose on my sleeve.

  He finally stopped and stared at me. He held out his hand and waited for me to accept it. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but whatever it was, he was asking me to trust him. I took his hand and put my trust in him.

  He carefully pulled me up from the ground and stepped closer. He released my hand when my feet were firmly on the ground. His eyes locked onto mine and he slowly approached until there were only a few inches between us. I could feel his warmth through the chilly air. His eye weren’t tight and angry anymore; instead they were crinkled around the edges, and his pupils were dilated. My favorite sparkle had returned and it captivated me.

  “Did this Mitch guy look into your eyes and make you feel like you were the only person in the room, the only girl he was thinking about?” he asked looking down at me. I knew Zack was tall, but I had to crane my neck up to see his handsome face.

  “No,” I whispered, my voice lost inside my throat.

  He slowly and deliberately raised his hand and moved it closer to my cheek. His fingers touched my face first, followed by his soft palm. He cradled my cheek in his hand and brushed his thumb under my eye to wipe away my tears.

  “Did he caress your face and tell you that he liked you because you were beautiful?” he asked, his voice deeper than before, and filled with unspoken desire.

  My nervous system shut down, but quickly came to life in a rush of heat. My knees trembled and my stomach clenched. For the first time in my life, I understood what it felt like to want someone. My breath was uneven as I wet my dry lips.

  “No, he didn’t,” I said, trying to remember what Mitch looked like when all I could think about was the blush across his high cheek bones, and his pink lips.

  “Did he tell you how funny you are and how smart you are? Did he tell you that you are the nicest girl he has ever met? Did he say that you’re brave for helping a virtual stranger deal with something he didn’t know how to handle?” he said, still holding my gaze.

  “No,” I whispered.

  “If he didn’t do all those things, then he had no right to kiss you and upset you like that,” he said sincerely.

  He slowly released my face and dropped his arm. He took a deep breath and backed away. I could see his hands shaking as he turned his back to me.

  My entire body was warm and twitchy. I didn’t want him to walk away but I understood his hesitancy. He didn’t want to be Mitch and take advantage of me. It would be wrong of him to swoop in and kiss a crying, pouting girl, despite the kind things he had said. I was vulnerable, and I appreciated that he respected my shattered state.

  I swallowed and blew out a long breath, trying to get control of myself. I was happy that he had proven me wrong about not being able to feel excited that someone was touching me. I was grateful for the experience, but I longed for him to touch me again. I wanted Zack’s lips on mine and his hands on my back.

  He stood facing the neighbor’s yard and seemed upset, though I wasn’t sure if he upset with himself for pretending to want to kiss me or if he was trying to calm himself from being so close to me. My brain was too jumbled to interpret anything and my self-doubt was too overwhelming.

  I decided to clear the air and finally let him off the hook in the event that he hadn’t truly wanted to kiss me.

  I cleared my throat and braced myself for his response. “You don’t have to take me to the dance if you don’t want to.”

  He turned so fast that he made my head spin trying to follow the motion.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, confused and maybe a little angry.

  I shrugged and stepped onto the log to distract myself from his intense eyes before I changed my mind. “You weren’t in school yesterday and we haven’t had a chance to talk about what happened in the hallway the other morning. We didn’t exactly discuss the dance or going together. I told Heather that you were taking me just so that she would back off. I forced you into a situation that you had no control over. I’m just letting you know that it’s okay if you don’t want to go with me or if you don’t want to go to the dance at all,” I said, glancing at the thick scabs forming on his knuckles.

  His mouth was agape and his eyebrows were crunched up as he listened to me give him an exit strategy. He blinked a few times and put his hands in his pockets. “You did what I asked you to do, and you kept Heather away from me. I’m not upset that you told her we were going to the dance. I’m more upset with myself for not asking you to the dance, but after what happened the other day with my fight with the tree, I’ll understand if you don’t want to go with me. I didn’t want you to see me like that. That’s not the real me,” he said softly as his voice broke at the end.

  I looked at him from the corner of my eye as I held out my arms and balanced myself on the log.

  “I punched a wall once and almost broke my wrist. If you think the tree is a better sparring partner, I’ll try it next time,” I said as a way of proving that I was okay with what had happened.

  He laughed and shook his head. He lightly put his hand under my elbow and helped me down off the log.

  “You’re making me nervous up there. I don’t want you falling. Now tell me why you punched the wall,” he said, his laughter turning to curiosity.

  I looked away and bit my thumbnail. I couldn’t tell him why I had done it. I wasn’t ready to confess just yet. “I like to kick my mattress a lot because it’s sturdy and doesn’t make much sound. I also threw a chair once, but it didn’t hit anything important,” I said, sidestepping his question.

  He touched my chin and pulled my face toward his so that he could look into my eyes. “Why are you attacking innocent furniture?” he asked pointedly.

  Staring into his blue eyes, I was trapped. I couldn’t look away and I couldn’t lie to him. “I hit things because my life is harder than most people realize but I can’t talk about it. I have all these emotions
inside that I can’t put anywhere safe, so I punch and kick things,” I said vaguely. It was the best answer I could give him.

  Whatever he was searching for in my eyes, he found it. He frowned and his eyes grew stormy again. Water pooled inside them as he began to comprehend what I wasn’t saying.

  “Does he hit you?” he said, his voice thick with sadness.

  I trembled at his words. He thought I was being abused, just like him and he was angry about it. I wasn’t sure if I was happy or sad that my circumstances were different, but I was grateful that he felt angry on my behalf.

  “If he did, I would have the bruises to show people. Sometimes I wish he would hit me,” I said as I allowed my true self to speak. I didn’t hold back for once and I prayed that I hadn’t placed my trust in the wrong person.

  His lip quivered and he pulled me into a hug. This hug was different than before. His arms surrounded my body and made me feel safe and protected for the first time in a long time. He leaned his head against the top of my head and I could hear him sniffling. He was upset for me, which brought me some comfort. I laid my head against his firm chest and sighed, almost feeling content. His cologne was mild, but enough to remind me who I was embracing. I used it as an anchor, a tether to the life I wanted to have.

  “Having bruises isn’t so great. They don’t really help, they just hurt,” he whispered as I felt his tears fall into my hair.

  I wrapped my arms around his back and held him to me, something I had never done in my life. I always kept people at arm’s length. I had never embraced someone to offer them comfort or hope.

  “I know. I ran after you when your hands were bleeding, but I was too slow. I heard what he said to you, what he did to you. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since it happened. I wanted to say something to you on Friday morning, but you weren’t there. I wasn’t sure how to tell you that I knew,” I mumbled into his chest, afraid that he would be angry that I knew his secret.

  He pulled his head back to look at me, but didn’t release me. “You heard?” he asked, his eyes wide with shock.

  I nodded. “I wanted to help you, but I didn’t know what to do. I thought about telling someone, but I know what a dangerous thing that is. If no one believed me, it could make things worse for you. Regardless, I did try to figure out how to help. I wish I had some kind of plan,” I shrugged, looking into his pale face. He was still in shock from learning that I knew his secret.

  He slowly began to breathe and he pulled me close again. “I’ve told people before, but like you said, it’s a dangerous thing when no one believes you or thinks that it’s just a one-time occurrence. I finally gave up trying to tell someone. I’m just waiting until I’m old enough to leave,” he said quietly.

  “Well, no one has ever come to my defense before and believed my side of things, even if it was something silly like freaking out over a kiss from a stranger. Thank you,” I replied.

  “We believe each other. That’s enough for right now,” he sighed.

  We stood like that for what seemed like forever. Sadly, the clock was ticking and this fantasy couldn’t last.

  “I’m breaking the rules by being here, being with another male. I’ll be punished if he finds out. As it is, I think he knows that Megan had those guys over last night, though it wasn’t planned. I’ll have to deal with the aftermath, so I may not surface for a while,” I said, relieved that I could speak the truth, and not have to concoct some lie that I had to remember later.

  “I’m sorry that you have to live like this. Is there something I can do?” he said as he looked at me again.

  I shook my head. “Just be here for me when I come back—back to the life I want,” I said, hoping that he understood what I meant.

  He gave me a sad smile and nodded solemnly. “I’ll always wait for you.”

  Chapter 9

  I wasn’t allowed out of the house until Monday morning. Zack’s simple vow helped me get through the rest of my torturous weekend. Every time my sense of self-worth was battered and attacked, every time my version of the truth came into question, I thought about Zack waiting for me. It didn’t matter what deplorable thing I was made to say or do, my hope refused to be crushed. All I had to do was think of Zack and I persevered.

  When I arrived at school, Megan pulled me into a death grip and dragged me to the far staircase, the one no one used in the morning.

  “I’m glad you’re alive!” Megan rejoiced once we were out of earshot.

  I silently questioned her halleluiah moment.

  “I tried calling your number but your answering machine was turned off. I finally called your parent’s number, but Phil answered. He told me you were grounded. Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I know your parents won’t let you date, but I had no idea that Sarah would bring anyone else. Will it make things any better if I tell them that it was an accident? I can tell them the truth. Maybe they can unground you for the dance?” she asked, wracked with guilt.

  Even if I hadn’t told Megan that my parents didn’t like me talking to boys, she would have figured it out freshman year. Back then, I did everything I could to avoid the male species because I didn’t trust them and I didn’t want to deal with the fallout from Phil. As my hormones kicked in, I began to care less about the rules and began to rebel in small ways. I gave the cover excuse that my parents were super strict, which was only true of Phil. My mom wasn’t often told about dances; otherwise, she would have forced me to go. She was the one who constantly asked if I liked anyone and if I had been asked out.

  I put my hands up to stop Megan’s rant about how I should be allowed to live my own life. “It’s okay. They only know that there were boys in the house. They don’t know that Mitch kissed me, so I get to live for another week. Thankfully, the dance is still on the table. My punishment is over,” I said, though that was only partially true. My mother already knew about the dance because Megan was adamant about going, so Phil couldn’t keep me home unless he broke my leg. Even then, my mother would have bought me crutches. She was more excited about the Halloween dance than I was.

  Megan breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Oh thank God! I have no idea what I would have done without you there.” She started jumping up and down, excited that I could still go.

  “I’m sorry that I made a scene the other night and had to leave,” I said, still embarrassed by my sudden stomach bug. Sarah was annoyed that she had to stop groping Steve while Megan called for her mother to come downstairs and check on my general health.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m more upset with Mitch for what he did,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

  I waved away her question. “I told you, I was already sick.” I quickly diverted her attention when I remembered her kissing the other guy. “Sorry we couldn’t talk over the weekend. I never got to hear what happened with...what was his name?” I asked, blanking out on his name.

  Her entire face was bright red at the mention of “what’s his name”.

  “Todd,” she sighed, saying his name as if she was already in love with him.

  “Huh. I thought his name was Toby, but like I said, I wasn’t feeling well. Anyway, what happened with Todd when your mom came downstairs? Did you get to learn anything about him?” I was surprised to hear how I had misinterpreted Todd’s name. It only proved how upset I had been that night.

  She started giggling and bouncing again. She definitely had more information about Todd than I did about Mitch.

  “He’s so nice. He was really sweet to my mom after you left and he completely won her over. She grilled him of course, but I guess he had the correct answers because she went back upstairs to watch her movie with dad,” she said, busting with excitement.

  I nodded and smiled. “I see. So I guess the kissing continued,” I said as I became infected by her excitement, which happened often. I enjoyed seeing the real world through Megan’s experiences and often tried to mirror her reactions to things.

  “He’s
such a good kisser,” she said, her eyes glazing over. “He invited me to the mall, which was why I tried calling you. I told Phil that I wanted to study with you, but really, I wanted you to come to the mall. Sarah and Steve came and all four of us hung out. It was so amazing. Todd and I shared cheese fries and talked and talked. He’s a great listener. He’s a senior at Sarah’s school and he plays the guitar and sings in the church choir.”

  I almost laughed at Todd’s description, being the cynic that I was. The church choir thing was probably a lie made up to appease her mother. I blanked out on what she was saying when it dawned on me that Mitch hadn’t bothered trying to lie to me before kissing me. I suddenly believed Zack’s theory that Mitch only wanted what he wanted and didn’t care about anything beyond that.

  When the bell rang, Megan continued to detail every second of her date and how many times they kissed—6.5 times, not including the spit swapping from the night before. All day long, I nodded and asked questions to prove that I was paying attention, as every best friend should. By the time lunch came around, I knew Todd’s height, his birthday, and the exact color of his seriously green eyes. I could pick him out of a lineup if necessary based on her description.

  I was happy for Megan and grateful for the distraction from my disastrous weekend. This was the kind of thing that I clung to—the normal interactions of normal people around me. I felt so disconnected, especially after letting Zack into my secret world and dealing with Phil all weekend that I needed something normal to focus on.

  Walking out of the cafeteria line with my marred plastic tray in my hand, I headed toward our usual table. I glanced up from my wobbling soda can to count four people sitting at the table by the window. I blinked, believing I was more tired than I thought, and searched for the three-person table. When I failed to locate it, I walked toward the four seated people. To my surprise and embarrassment, Zack was sitting next to Kris, across from Megan and Jill. I wasn’t sure why he was there, but I assumed he was either asking for directions to the semi-jock table, the one where he usually sat, or he was actually interested in Megan and had been leading me on.

 

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