Good

by S. Walden

  Mark furrowed his brows like he didn’t understand my words. I opened my mouth to repeat them.

  “No, I heard you,” he said, cutting me off.

  I hung my head. “It was Valentine’s Day. I was lonely.”

  Mark shifted uncomfortably on the bed.

  “I cried the whole time.” I thought that might provide him some relief.

  He looked up sharply. “Did he force you?”

  “No. Nothing like that,” I said. “I cried because I was lonely. And because I didn’t love him.”

  “Jesus, Cadence,” Mark whispered. He grabbed me roughly and pulled me onto his lap. He held me tightly. “I’m sorry I did that to you.”

  And then I felt shaking that signaled despair. And tears.

  I whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry I did that to you.”

  “Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I’m the jerk who pushed you away,” Mark said.

  I felt his tears fall onto my bare shoulder and couldn’t stand it. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I clung to him harder, trying to still the shuddering of his body as he poured out his grief. The tears were soaking my neck, my shoulder, and I grew frightened.

  “Stop it!” I cried. “Just stop it!” And I jumped off his lap, tearing off my bra and panties.

  Mark looked at me confused.

  “I don’t need your tears,” I said. “I need you to love me.”

  I climbed on top of him, straddling him, and kissed his lips. I felt his body shudder again, but not from crying. He was aroused and struggling against it.

  “Cadence, not right now. I want to. I do. But I’m afraid I’ll hurt you because I want you too much. And I can’t control it,” he said.

  “I want you to hurt me,” I said. “I want you to do whatever you want.”

  “Cadence . . .”

  “Please love me!” I screamed, and Mark didn’t argue. He scooped me up and laid me on the bed in one swift motion. He stripped naked and climbed on top of me, resting his full weight on me.

  “I feel possessive of you.” It sounded like it hurt him to say the words.

  “I want you to,” I replied. “I want you to possess me.”

  He nodded and cupped my face tenderly. “I’ll take all your breath away, Cadence.” My eyes grew wide with fear until his next words. “But I’ll give it all back. I promise.”

  He leaned in and kissed me, sealing his mouth over mine. He breathed in deeply, sucking all the oxygen from my body, and I pushed frantically against his shoulders. He pushed up onto his elbows, and I coughed and gasped, breathing in fresh air until he lay on me once more, sealing his mouth over mine, and stealing my air again.

  On and on he stole my breath, gave it back, only to take it away again. I fought him, squirming violently under his weight. It was a natural reaction, though I didn’t want him to stop. I never wanted him to stop taking from me. He wouldn’t let up, and I surrendered to his mouth, surrendered to the feeling of my life hanging in the balance each time he robbed me of air.

  This was my punishment.

  He reached under me and lifted my hips, plunging into me. I cried out, only to be silenced by his mouth once more. He moved his hands to my face, cupping my cheeks, stroking me softly while he stared into my eyes.

  “You’re mine. Forever,” he whispered, and rolled us over carefully so that he wouldn’t break our union.

  “I’m yours,” I replied, straddling him. I breathed deeply, reveling in the security of being claimed, the pleasure of being punished for my unfaithfulness. But I realized he needed to be punished, too. He broke my heart. He left me alone to suffer for weeks and weeks. He drove me to sleep with another man.

  I placed my hand next to his face for support while the other went to his throat. He didn’t push me away. He watched me the whole time as I increased the pressure of my fingers around his neck, slowly denying him air.

  “You’re mine,” I said. “Forever.” And I rode him slowly, squeezing his throat until he grunted and begged for air.

  I loosened my hold on him, allowed him to suck in one quick breath before squeezing his throat again.

  “Only mine,” I said, feeling a foreign kind of power creep through my limbs. I thought I could choke him longer, make him pass out, then lean over and resuscitate him. Bring him back to life. Bring us back to life.

  “Mine!” I cried, feeling greedy and dangerous, squeezing him harder.

  “Yes!” he wheezed, grabbing my hand and tearing it off his neck. He twisted his fingers in my hair and forced my lips on his. It was a brutal kiss—our teeth striking painfully. Lips bruised and bitten. Tongues wresting and writhing. There was nothing pretty about it. It was anger and passion and punishment all at the same time. And I couldn’t get enough of it.

  I crushed my body to his, frustrated that I couldn’t get closer. I didn’t know how, but bare skin on skin wasn’t enough. I needed more; I needed a fusion of hearts.

  “Swear it,” I said into his mouth. “Swear that you’re mine forever.”

  “I swear it, Cadence. I swear it on my life. I’m yours forever.”

  He loved me all night and into the morning. He loved me until I was so sore I could barely sit with my legs together. He loved me until I had nothing left to give him, until I was famished. And then he cradled me on his lap, fed me, stroked my hair, and told me all of his plans.

  And every single one included me.

  “Is there something you need to say to me?” I asked.

  Gracie shrugged. She had approached me in the school parking lot. For a brief moment I was hopeful that she wanted to make amends to our friendship, but the sinister smile playing on her lips told me otherwise.

  “Why are you smiling like that?” I asked.

  “I went to the movies this weekend,” she replied.

  “Good for you.”

  “I saw a 9:30 movie,” she explained.

  I nodded, too dense to make the connection.

  She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Mr. Connelly happened to be there.”

  Fuck.

  “Well, lots of people go to the movies,” I replied. My heart was sinking fast. How much did she see? How much did she know?

  “Come to think of it, you were there, too,” Gracie went on.

  I stared her down in an effort to scare her. Didn’t seem to work.

  “It looked like you two were on a date.”

  “We weren’t.”

  “Well, I saw you leave with him.”

  “Yes. He walked me to my car. It was dark outside.”

  Gracie continued, undeterred. “He was holding your hand, Cadence.”

  I had nothing to say to that.

  “Not to mention the fact that before he held your hand, you were having what sounded like a lovers’ spat.”

  “A ‘lovers’ spat’?” I laughed. “Who says ‘lovers’ spat’?”

  Gracie bristled. “You know, you used to like me, Cadence! You used to like the way I talked!”

  “You’re right. I did. And then you decided to ditch me my senior year in favor of Sophia. I mean, what the hell, Gracie? You don’t even like her!”

  “I like people who are loyal to me!”

  “I was never not loyal to you!”

  “You went to that party! You ditched me! I wasn’t cool enough for you!”

  The tears exploded from Gracie’s eyes in a violent burst. She wanted me to see every one of them as she stared at me.

  “I never thought you weren’t cool enough for me,” I said softly. “I made a mistake. A mistake! People make mistakes!”

  Gracie wiped her face and took a deep breath.

  “Don’t play it off like that, Cadence. You were looking for a reason to get rid of me. You didn’t want an unpopular friend anymore. It was easier for you to use that party as an excuse when you should have just been brave enough to tell me to my face that you didn’t want to hang out with me anymore.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She was deluded
.

  “Gracie, that’s not true at all.”

  “The hell it’s not,” she spat, and I flinched.

  She stopped crying, and I watched the contortions of her face. It passed through a gamut of emotions until it settled on anger. Vindictive anger.

  “Anyway,” she said airily, “I saw your argument with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend the teacher. Your teacher. Your teacher boyfriend—”

  “Stop it!”

  “Oh, so you don’t deny it,” Gracie said. “Well, how could you? It was blatantly obvious.”

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “What do I want?” she replied, and then she laughed. “I don’t want anything.”

  “Then why did you feel the need to tell me you saw me at the movies?” I asked. I was starting to lose my patience.

  Gracie cocked her head. “I just want you to know that I know.”

  Her cryptic threat sent anger coursing through my veins.

  “What do you want, Grace?”

  I can’t remember the last time I called her “Grace.” It was what we termed her “grown-up” name when we were seven. Neither of us liked it; we liked “Gracie.”

  “I want you to stop seeing him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s sinful, Cadence.”

  “Why do you even care? It’s got nothing to do with you.”

  “Of course it has something to do with me. As a Christian, it’s my duty to help you when I see you stumbling,” she said.

  “I’m not stumbling,” I argued.

  Gracie laughed disdainfully. “Oh, yes you are, Cadence. Big time. You’re seeing your teacher!”

  “Shut up!” I hissed, and looked around the student parking lot. We were alone.

  “I mean, first drugs. Then a robbery. Now a relationship with a teacher?” she asked. “Are you having sex with him?”

  “Excuse me?” I asked. I was pissed. And offended.

  “Well, that answered my question.”

  “Leave it alone, Grace,” I spat. “I’m happy. Why can’t you just let me be happy?”

  Gracie scowled. “The worst part of it is that Avery girl, I think. I knew she was trouble when she started attending youth group. It took me a while, but I finally figured it out. You two cover for each other so that you can go off and do whatever it is you do. All while pretending to be good, little Christians. You’re messed up.”

  I turned and started walking towards my car.

  “Don’t you walk away from me, Cadence!” Gracie screamed. “I’m telling your parents!”

  I whirled around and came at her. It was instinct. Total instinct. I slapped her hard across the face, and she cried out.

  “You fucking bitch!” I yelled. “Don’t you say a word!”

  Gracie rubbed her cheek for a second then slapped the hell out of mine. I wasn’t prepared for it. I didn’t think she had the guts. The severity of the sting made my eyes water instantly.

  “I hate you, Cadence!” she screeched, and she slapped me again.

  I don’t know what it was that lay dormant in my heart all year, but it was ugly and vengeful and wicked. And I wanted to act on it. I wanted to be a straight-up fucking bitch.

  I worked my jaw side to side, loosening all the words that were itching to pour out.

  “What? You have a thing for my boyfriend?” I sneered. “Is that what this is all about?”

  “Get over yourself,” Gracie snapped. “You’re crazy.”

  “Am I?” I asked. I advanced on her, and she shrank back against her car. She looked like she wanted to slap me for a third time, but something about my facial expression changed her mind. She was afraid of me. “Because I think you wanna fuck my boyfriend.”

  Gracie shook her head. I watched as fresh tears leaked from her eyes, and if I hadn’t turned into a monster, they would have affected me.

  “You’re a jealous bitch because you want what I have. Well, guess what? You can’t. He doesn’t like you. He would never go for someone like you.” I leaned in, inches from her face. “He wants me. He’s fucking me,” I cooed. “And you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut about it.”

  Gracie drew in her breath once I backed off. “Who are you?” she whispered.

  I shook my head, stunned by my disgusting behavior.

  “I don’t know.”

  ***

  “Should I tell him?” I asked Avery over the phone.

  The anxiety consumed me. I was only brave for the few moments I’d turned into my bizarre alter ego. Now I was back to normal Cadence who was terrified that Gracie would talk.

  “What the hell kind of question is that?” Avery asked. “Of course you tell him. He has a right to know.”

  “But I don’t know that she’d say anything,” I argued.

  “Bullshit. You’ve known the girl for how long now?”

  “But I think she was mostly just upset about us not being friends anymore,” I continued.

  “Grow the fuck up, Cadence,” Avery snapped. “This girl has something on you, and she’s pissed. You’re a moron if you don’t think she’ll tell your parents. Moreover—”

  “‘Moreover’? I asked.

  “Yeah, ‘moreover’ you little bitch. Look, it isn’t my fault you two couldn’t control yourselves in public.”

  “We didn’t do anything!” I cried.

  “You fought. You let him kiss your cheek, Cadence!”

  I said nothing.

  “He held your hand out of the theatre!”

  “All right,” I barked. “I made a mistake.”

  There was a brief pause before Avery spoke up. “Did Gracie say anything about me?”

  My heart clenched immediately. “No.” It was the worst attempt at sounding nonchalant.

  “What did she say?” Avery asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “What did she say, Cadence?” Avery demanded.

  I took a deep breath. “She thinks you’re a bad influence. She knows we sneak off and do things and use each other as covers!” I blurted.

  Another brief pause.

  “Did you tell her?”

  “I swear to God I didn’t say anything, Avery!”

  “I’ve gotta go.” It was abrupt. Avery sounded scared.

  “No, Avery. Please.”

  “Cadence, I swear to God . . .”

  “Please listen to me! I don’t know how she figured it out! I didn’t say a thing.” I started crying. It felt like the natural thing to do.

  “I’m so dead,” Avery whispered. I barely heard it, but I heard it, and my soft cries turned into full-on sobs. The noise filled the silent space of my bedroom, and I knew I was experiencing the prelude. The opening of a terribly loud, Beethoven-banging symphony where the audience holds its breath throughout the entire song, hoping—praying—for a swift and sudden conclusion. They don’t care how it comes. They just need it to stop their racing hearts. They need it to breathe again. To feel normal again. But it wouldn’t come easily, and it wouldn’t be pretty, and they knew it.

  “Stop it!” Avery hissed as I cried into the phone. “Let me think!”

  Think? Think about what? My conclusion was nearing—I could feel them on the other side of the door. They would burst through any second and end my life for being bad. For being deceitful. For being immoral and corrupt and wrong. For being anything but good.

  “Avery,” I sobbed, and then the knock sounded, and I dropped the phone. It fell with a sudden smack on the hardwoods. I was frozen to my spot on the bed.

  “Cadence, honey,” Mom said through the door. “Dinner’s ready.”

  Dinner’s ready. I’m not going to kill you. At least not yet. I don’t know what you’ve done, after all. But I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough. I’ll find you out, Cadence. You can’t keep secrets from me. I’ll discover your deception and make you pay for it. But for now, dinner’s ready. Come on downstairs and eat, sweetheart.

  ***

  I rounded the corner of the foyer
and was greeted by my parents, brother, and Gracie.

  I froze.

  Gracie sat on the couch hunched over, crying. Mom was crying. Oliver looked confused. Dad was irate.

  “Where do I start?” Dad asked me.

  “What do you mean?” I knew precisely what he meant, but I stalled anyway. I didn’t know what to say, to do. I had no escape plan. I was instantly angry with myself for not having been prepared for this. The two weeks that passed without any incident tricked me into believing that Gracie decided not to tell my parents.

  “Is it true?” Dad asked.

  “Is what true?”

  “Don’t play dumb, Cadence!” he shouted, and I shuddered.

  My breathing came faster, and I looked over at Gracie. She’d stopped crying. I thought they were crocodile tears anyway. She wasn’t upset that she felt compelled to tell on me. She had been waiting for this moment to ruin the one good thing in my life. It was punishment for my destroying our friendship. She was a bitch. A vindictive bitch. And my alter ego bitch self apparently wasn’t convincing enough to scare her into silence.

  “Answer my question, Cadence,” Dad said.

  I nodded. I had no choice.

  Mom let out a pitiful whimper. Oliver gasped.

  “What is wrong with you?” Dad asked. It came out as an accusation of the worst kind, like I committed a heinous, perverted crime and needed to be locked away in an insane asylum.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me,” I replied. I tried to be stoic.

  “Engaging in a relationship with your teacher?” Dad asked. “And there’s nothing wrong with you?”

  I raised my head in defiance.

  “Why?” Mom asked. “Why would you do this to us?”

  “To you?” I screamed. “It’s got nothing to do with you!”

  “The hell it doesn’t!” Dad replied. “Is this your way of getting back at us for punishing you? Are you really so immature, Cadence?”

  “I’m not immature!” I cried.

  Dad took a step towards me then stopped.

  “Gracie, you need to leave,” he said.

  She jumped up from the couch and walked past me.

  “I’m sorry, Cadence,” she whispered.