by Sam Mariano
I stumble back a step, momentarily distracted by my own horror. I’ve never seen Valerie stand up to Hunter before, let alone in public. I wouldn’t expect her to be happy about Hunter hooking up with me, but I can’t believe she has the audacity to react like…
The truth socks me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me a moment before it comes out in the open.
“It’s not enough to fucking cheat on me,” she says, shoving him again. “It had to be with her!”
Bile rises in my throat.
I shake my head, denial overpowering me.
No. No, he wouldn’t. He didn’t.
I told him she was the line he couldn’t cross. I told him.
But when he looks at me and I see the remorse, I know.
The onlookers might think he feels bad about getting caught stepping out on Valerie, but I know the truth. I know why he really feels bad.
It’s the most surreal feeling. Fissures crack open as my heart breaks. I feel it happening. I’m helpless to stop the erosion, helpless to stop the tears that gather in my eyes.
I won’t cry in front of them. They don’t deserve that.
Before I break down, I shove past Wally and run down the hall. Tears blur my vision before I get to the door. A couple people who weren’t in the hall look at me like where’s the fire as I rip open the front door and run outside without closing it.
I can’t breathe, but I don’t stop running. I’m alone so I don’t have to worry about people seeing as I struggle noisily to draw breath.
I stop running when I get to the end of the road. I’m out of breath and my chest hurts. It feels like I’m drowning but there’s no water.
The house on the corner has a privacy fence. I back up against it and try to gather my bearings. I can feel dried tears on my face. My stomach roils. Bile tries to come up, but I summon every ounce of willpower I have left and keep it down.
I need to get home.
I try to think how far I’d have to walk, but I don’t have confidence my legs will carry me all the way there. They’ve felt like jelly since I opened that bedroom door. I’m shocked I made it this far. Must have been pure adrenaline.
The adrenaline is running out, though. I really feel like I’m going to be sick.
My fingers tremble as I draw out my cell phone. I have another missed message from Sara wanting to know what’s going on. I read the message, but I don’t answer. I don’t know what to say.
I need a ride home. Sara can’t drive. I can’t ask Anderson anymore. I can’t call my mom. I left my purse in Valerie’s bedroom, so I don’t even have my house key.
My face feels wet and I realize I’m still crying. That’s annoying. I swipe the tear away like it’s the tear that made me angry.
I look down at my phone again.
If anyone else had hurt me, I would call my mom to come get me.
Tonight, I call Ray.
As the phone rings, I hope and pray he’s not with her. I’m not sure if they had plans tonight or not. If he’s with her, I’m fucked. She’ll know something is wrong if I’m calling him. Ray and I are friendly when he comes over, but we don’t chat on the phone. I only have his number in case of emergencies.
This feels enough like an emergency to use it.
His low, rough baritone comes across the other line. “Hello.”
“Hey.” I tuck a chunk of hair behind my ear and look down at the grass. “It’s Riley.”
Since he knows he’s only my emergency contact, his tone is alert. “Hey, Riley. What’s up?”
I swallow. “Are you with my mom?”
“No. Why? Is everything okay?”
My shoulders sag with relief. “Oh, thank God. Are you busy? I need a huge favor if you’re not.”
“What do you need?”
“Will you come pick me up? I’m at a party. Or, I was. I’m kind of… my ride left without me, so I just need someone to take me home.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Give me the address, I’ll be right there. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I assure him. “I just need a ride home. And, Ray… can you please not tell my mom about this?”
At that, he hesitates, but after a couple of seconds, he says, “All right.”
“Thank you.”
He asks a couple more times if I’m all right. I assure him I am.
It feels like a lie, though.
I don’t feel all right.
I feel traumatized.
Maybe it’s a blessing that after a few minutes, I start to feel numb.
I don’t know how long I stand there encased in numbness, but I snap back to reality when Ray’s car pulls up to the curb.
Wordlessly, I open the door and slide in.
Ray just sits there for a moment, looking over at me, maybe waiting for me to speak. When I don’t, he asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nod my head. “I just want to go home.”
He watches me for a moment longer, then he sighs and starts driving.
We don’t talk the whole way home. He doesn’t have the music playing tonight either, so it’s completely silent. It feels good, though. I’ve been through so much in the last half hour, I’m not sure I can handle much more tonight.
I finally speak when Ray pulls into our driveway. “Thank you.”
He nods his head.
I don’t get out. I just sit there and stare at the house.
“Your mom’s not home,” Ray finally says, figuring that must be why I’m hesitating. “She got called in to work.”
Oh, thank God.
I feel a few ounces lighter, but only until I realize that means I can’t get in the house. “Great.”
“Thought you’d be relieved,” he remarks.
“I left my purse at the party. I don’t have my house key, and we don’t have a spare stashed outside anywhere.”
“Ah.”
I nod woodenly.
“Do you want to go back to the party and get it?” he asks.
“No.”
“Okay.” Ray hesitates, then says, “I can get you in without a key, if you really want me to.”
I look over at him. “You can?”
He nods.
“Will it damage the door?”
“Nope.”
I sag with relief. “Are you my own personal superhero?”
He smirks as he reaches over and opens the glove compartment. “I don’t think superheroes pick locks.”
I eye up the black pouch he grabs, but I don’t remark on it as we get out of the car.
Ray walks up to the house first, opening the little leather pouch and drawing out a thin silver tool. “Since we’re keeping secrets tonight, don’t tell your mom I did this in front of you.”
“If I were in a better mood, I’d ask for a tutorial. I like learning new things.”
He jams the silver thing and turns it. “You don’t need to know how to pick locks.”
“If I did, I would’ve been able to get into my own house tonight,” I tell him.
He turns the knob and just like that, the door opens. He gestures for me to walk inside, so I do, then I turn around to face him. He’s looking down, putting the pick away.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask.
He glances up at me. “Shoot.”
“Why do you have that?”
He shrugs and reaches back to tuck the pouch into his back pocket. “Old habits.”
I nod, looking down, but even though I’m distracted by my own mess tonight, I can’t help feeling a faint tug. Since I ignored my last instinct and tonight happened, I pay more attention to this one. “Can I ask another question?”
“Yep,” he says, but his tone this time says he knows what’s coming.
“You’re not still doing criminal stuff, right?” Before he can even answer, I go on, “I’m not asking from a judgmental place, I swear. It’s just… my mom is crazy about you, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re really protective of each
other. If you break her heart, we’re gonna have big problems, and even if you don’t mean to, if you get arrested again—”
“Riley,” he says, calmly cutting me off.
I stop talking and meet his gaze.
“I promise that’s not going to happen. I’m not doing anything I could get in trouble for. I have the tools because I have a different past than you, that’s all. Trust me, kid, I know how lucky I am to have this shot at a second act. Your mother is an incredible woman and I love her very much. I’m pretty fond of you, too,” he says with a wink.
Somehow, I find a little smile tugging at my lips. “Same here. You make her really happy.”
“She makes me really happy, too,” he says. “I’m not going to do anything to mess this up, you have my word on that. I meant it when I said I wanted us to be a family. You can always call on me if you need me—both of you can.” He pauses briefly, then adds, “And if someone at that party was out of line tonight… you can tell me. I’d be happy to pay ’em a visit, have a little chat with them.”
My heart sinks at his mention of the party. I don’t want to deal with that, and despite what Hunter did, I find myself not wanting to tell on him either, so I shake my head. “It’s fine,” I assure him. “Just dumb high school stuff. It doesn’t matter. I appreciate that, though.”
He nods, holding my gaze meaningfully. “I mean it. You’re as good as my daughter, as far as I’m concerned. Anyone messes with you, you tell me. We’ll figure it out.”
“Thanks, Ray.”
When I close the door and turn around, the house feels emptier than it usually does when I’m home alone.
The events of tonight threaten to monopolize my headspace, but that’s the last thing I want to think about. Shoving them away, I search frantically for anything else to focus on as I walk to the bathroom and prepare to shower.
My phone buzzes again as I’m getting undressed. I check it and see another message from Sara, so I shoot her a quick text to assure her the drama at the party had nothing to do with Wally, but I don’t want to talk about it right now. I tell her I’m tired, that I’m going to shower and get some sleep and I’ll catch her up tomorrow.
My phone buzzes again.
Expecting it’s Sara, I check it.
It’s Hunter.
My heart drops as I read, “Where did you go?”
My fingers shake as I rapidly type back, “Don’t text me again.”
“I needed to know you were okay,” he shoots back.
“Like you care,” I answer. “I mean it, Hunter, if you text me again, I’ll block your number.”
Apparently not taking my warning seriously, he sends back, “We need to talk.”
Aggravated and out of sorts, I do what I said I would—I block his ass.
There.
I should feel better as I set my phone down on the countertop, but I don’t. I feel terrible if I allow myself to think about it for even a moment, so I stop. I can’t turn my brain off, but I can fill it with a million other things.
As I step into the shower to scrub Hunter off of me, that’s exactly what I do.
Chapter Twenty Three
Riley
Mercifully, it is weekend.
Two days away from school isn’t nearly enough, but since I couldn’t sleep last night, I’m happy to sleep in Saturday morning.
Every time I tried to sleep, my mind filled up with thoughts of everything that happened at that awful party.
I dreaded school during the years Hunter was gone, too, but it’s so much worse now that he’s back. My dread was a passive thing before. Sure, it was an unpleasant environment full of people who didn’t want anything to do with me, but I could more or less ignore it. I had never been friends with any of those people, anyway. It wasn’t as if I was losing anything or having it taken from me, I simply never had those normal high school experiences.
I’m a senior, and the party last night at Valerie’s house is the first one I’ve ever been invited to—and only then because I was the plus one of a football player.
But now I’m not just the girl everyone ignores most of the time, now it’s not a quiet thing that doesn’t stir up my anxieties.
Now there are social media posts about me, posts by people I’ve never even spoken to. Strangers are commenting on and ridiculing my sex life, calling me awful names and dredging up bullshit rumors from last year.
They shouldn’t even be surprised I fucked Valerie’s boyfriend in her bedroom—I did have that affair with a faculty member junior year, after all.
In a world that revolves around the prettiest, most popular girl in school, apparently I’m the villain.
It’s infuriating that people play into this bullshit. I’ve never willfully hurt a person in my whole entire life. Valerie does it for sport.
Try as I might, I can’t completely ignore the white noise. It’s hard to tune it out when you know so much of the buzzing is about you.
I make a valiant effort, though.
Since we’re just heading into our second week of school, the newspaper has a skeleton crew. Most of the regular contributors graduated last year, so there are a lot of positions open.
I volunteered to help out with the entertainment section and write a couple of extra articles even before I knew Hunter was going to ruin my life this weekend. When I initially volunteered, I kinda wanted to kick myself. I didn’t know how I’d find time to do that on top of all my first week back preparations, but now that I need busywork… good looking out, past Riley.
Since Mom had to work an overnight shift last night, she sleeps until about two.
I’m on the couch with a notebook open on my lap, a pen in my hand as I watch the movie I have to review for the school paper. The movie is actually four years old, not a new release, but I don’t want to go to the movie theater in town and risk running into anyone from school, so I decided to do something a bit differently. The book version of this movie is randomly on the New York Times Bestseller list right now, so I thought I’d read the book and watch the movie, and write about both for my article.
“Hey, you’re watching movies without me,” Mom says, openly surprised. “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?”
I glance back at her and offer a little smile. “It’s for work, not play. I have to review it for the paper, so I figured I’d watch this one alone.”
“Is it because I talk during movies?” she asks.
“Maybe.”
She sighs. “I knew it. Is it any good? Maybe we can watch it again later if it is.”
I shake my head, reaching forward and grabbing my drink off the coffee table. “I think you can skip this one.”
“Did you make coffee?” she asks, sniffing the air. “I smell coffee.”
I nod. “I did. I stayed up late reading and working, I needed it to stay awake. It’s still fresh if you want some. I saved you a cup.”
“You’re the best,” she tells me, turning around and groggily making her way toward the kitchen.
I go back to watching my movie, but before Mom makes it back from the kitchen, the doorbell rings.
My heart sinks.
“I’ll get it,” I call out urgently, jumping off the couch without even taking the time to hit pause.
All day while doing my best not to think about Hunter, I’ve been waiting for that doorbell.
When I crawled into bed and turned out the lights, I was so tense thinking maybe Hunter would show up outside my bedroom window.
Not that I wanted him to, of course. I didn’t. But I did block his number, and if Hunter really wanted to talk to me, he knows where I live. He could show up at my house.
He probably thought my mom would be home last night, though.
And again, I don’t want him to come.
I just thought he might.
Now as I make a beeline for the door, my tummy rocks with nerves at the thought of who could be on the other side.
Maybe it’s Ray. I hope it’s
Ray. Now that I’ve had some time to think on it, I feel guilty for asking him to keep a secret from my mom. I know how she would react if she found out—and so does he. It was a really big favor he did for me, and I won’t forget it.
I pull the door open, halfway convinced it will be Ray, so my smile droops when I see who is actually on the other side.
Anderson.
“Hey,” he says, offering a little smile I can only categorize as contrite.
I suppose that makes sense. He did call me a whore last night.
Of course, he wasn’t the only one to call me that last night. Makes it a little less memorable today than it usually would be.
“Hey,” I say back, but my confusion is clear. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs. “You weren’t answering my texts.”
Of course.
I block Hunter and nothing.
I don’t answer Anderson’s texts and he shows up at my house.
I guess I had the action right, I just had the wrong boy.
“I wasn’t in the mood to talk,” I tell him.
He nods, looking down at the ground as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I get that. I wasn’t trying to be a pest, I just legitimately wanted to make sure you were okay. I was getting texts and notifications from other people, I was hearing things…”
Remembering how it went last time he heard things, I straighten up and look at him. “Is there something I can do for you, Anderson?”
He glances into the house behind me. “Could we talk?”
“My mom’s home.”
A frown flickers across his face, but then he nods. “All right. Maybe we could go somewhere? Let me buy you lunch.”
I shake my head, crossing my arms protectively over my chest. “I don’t want to go out in public today.”
“We could go somewhere less public. How about a picnic? We could go to the park—we can easily avoid people there. We’ll stop at the butcher on the way, pick up a couple of sandwiches. We never did get them the other day, and I know how much you were looking forward to it.”
I shake my head, frowning at him. “Why? We broke up.”
“Last night was bad,” he says plainly. “All the way around. I was an asshole, I said shit I didn’t mean. I don’t want it to end like that between us.”