“No!” I scream and run over to him. I grab on to his neck.
“I love you,” he says, kissing my cheek. “I’ll always, always love you. I’m loving you the right way now. I am.”
I feel Rich pulling me away from Jeremy. “Let go of me!” I scream. Rich pulls me hard enough that I let go of Jeremy’s neck and he starts to walk down the stairs. I struggle to get out of Rich’s grasp.
Once Jeremy is out of sight, I turn around and try to push myself away from Rich. “Rich, stop him! He’s not guilty! Please, don’t let him do this.”
“This is what he wants to do, Ms. Dylan. We have to let him.”
Eventually, I become tired enough that I can’t struggle anymore. Rich lifts me up in his arms and carries me down the steps. In the parking lot, I search for his car in vain but see that he’s already left. Rich lays me down on the back seat before we drive towards my home. “I’m working on it, Ms. Dylan. Trust me, I’m working on it…” he says to me.
I sob quietly into my hands, realizing something frightening and terrible. My dad wasn’t talking about Jeremy during our conversation. He was trying to warn me. I’m the person who will never be happy.
Chapter 12- The Tape
Of course, the news of Jeremy’s confession spreads like wildfire, and I am unable to escape it. I hear it all day at school and see it on every newspaper. Even as the week is coming to a close, stories still continue to circulate. Every day that goes by, my depression grows deeper and deeper.
I know that in the last two weeks, I have lost a considerable amount of weight. I feel constantly nauseous and I throw up from the stress. I worry about Jeremy. I worry about breaking Scott’s heart. I don’t know whether to stay with him or let him go, knowing that Jeremy can’t and doesn’t want to be with me.
Scott has been handling it well, but he’s home so little now that it’s easy for me to at least act semi-normal when he’s around. Because we’re so close to graduation Scott has become busy preparing to take over the legal side of his father’s company. It requires a lot of travel. Scott says he feels better about leaving me alone knowing my father is still staying here. I’m not sure how he will feel when my dad leaves tomorrow.
I can tell that my dad knows how depressed I am. He hasn’t said anything, but he looks at me as if I’m fragile. Like he’s waiting for me to fall and break into a million pieces. I feel like I already have.
As each day goes on, I’ve become weaker. The nausea and sadness never ending. Today has been worst of all. I find myself curled up in a ball on the couch, unable to get up. I’m reading the text messages I received from Mr. Schuster the day the fingerprint story broke.
D. Schuster: Dylan, I heard about why you quit.
D. Schuster: I just thought I’d tell you about an inside report I found before you heard about it on the news. Can you call me?
D. Schuster: Okay, I haven’t heard from you so I have to tell you before you see it on the news.
D. Schuster: Mason is going to be arrested. His fingerprints were on the bag with the victims. He’s going to lose the case.
D. Schuster: Dylan, are you alright?
All of his messages that day pretty much say the same thing, and I torture myself by reading them over and over. His fingerprints match. He’s going to lose the case.
I stand up to go to the bathroom to vomit yet again. After I few minutes, I try to make it back to the couch when I stop in surprise. I see Scott sitting in the place where I was sitting a few minutes before.
He looks up at me as I approach and gives me a half smile. “Hey, honey. Still feeling sick?” he asks, patting the couch beside him. I sit and lay my head down on the arm rest.
“Yeah,” I sigh. My nausea increases when I see him, my guilt overwhelming me. “What are you doing home?”
He shrugged. “I’m only home for a few minutes. I just wanted to check on you. Brought you soup,” he says, motioning to the counter in the kitchen. He rubs my legs with his hand and I smile at him. He doesn’t smile back.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, concerned. He looks so sad.
Scott grabs my left hand and looks at my ring, watching it sparkle in the light. It falls left and right as he moves my hand because my fingers are smaller now than they used to be. “Dylan…” he begins, clearing his throat. I worry my lip under my teeth. “Dylan, I can’t figure out why you’re so unhappy. I know you’re unhappy. So don’t deny it.”
He looks at me, but I say nothing. I don’t have the energy to try to deny it anymore, to him or anyone else. He sighs and continues. “Do you still love him?” he asks me, looking down.
My eyes tear up and my heart flutters. “Yes,” I say, guiltily. “But, I love you, too. And I think we can be happy together.”
He nods his head. “I knew you still loved him. I’m happy you told me the truth. It didn’t bother me as much because I thought that we could be happy. I thought eventually you would just move on from him and forget him.”
Scott looks up at me again, his blue eyes wary and tired. “I’m trying,” I begin. “I was doing better until all of this mess. But it’s over now. He’s in jail and that’s that. I just need time,” I almost beg. Is he going to leave me, too? Will I be alone in the end, after everything?
“Give me more time?” I ask, petting his hand. I’m so absurd. I’m such a terrible person. This man loves me so much. Look how I’m hurting him.
“Dylan…” he begins, but my phone rings. The ringtone breaks through the heavy conversation, making us look away from one another. I get up and walk over to where my cell phone is sitting on the dining room table. Looking at the caller ID, I see that it’s Rich.
I stare at the phone, confused, debating for a moment whether or not to answer it. I figure that Rich probably isn’t calling me for small talk. I slide my finger across the screen and place it up to my ear. “Hello?” I ask.
“Miss Dylan?” I hear Rich’s deep voice ask me.
“Rich? Everything okay?” I shoot a nervous glance towards Scott. He stares back at me warily.
“I need your help.” He sounds confused and angry.
“Okay, what’s wrong?”
“I have something I need to show you. I think I found proof that Mr. M is innocent. I think I can get him released.”
I stiffen and stare wide-eyed at Scott. “What?” he mouths.
I don’t say anything in response to Rich. “Can I come and show you? So you can tell me if it means anything?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah of course,” I mutter, still dazed. What could he possibly have to show me?
“Okay. On my way,” he says, hanging up his phone. I hear three beeps as the phone call ends.
“Okay,” I mumble to no one, bringing the phone away from my ear.
Scott looks conflicted, as if he wants to ask me something. “Who was that?”
“Rich. He said he found something that affects the case. Wants my opinion.” I search Scott’s face for a reaction as I speak. His face is blank, a perfect poker face of no emotion.
“Do you mind if I stay?” he asks, his blue eyes searching mine.
I shrug. “Sure.”
A few silent moments later, there’s a knock at the door. I shake as I walk to open it, terrified to see what Rich might show me. As the door opens and Rich appears in front of me, I see him clutching a jewel case in his massive hand.
I invite him to come in and we walk to the living room. Sweat is pouring from Rich’s forehead, and I know it must be from stress because it’s chilly outside. Is that good or bad?
Rich stops when he enters the living room and sees Scott sitting on the couch. He turns back to glance at me and then glances back towards Scott. “Hello,” he mutters as he passes him and walks to my DVD player below my TV.
“What are you doing?” I ask him as he opens the jewel case. He places a small disk into the player.
“I told you I wouldn’t let him be put away,” Rich says. He pushes the door of the DVD player closed as I reach
for the remote on the arm of the couch and turn the TV on.
A picture on the screen appears of a window obscured by some branches. Through the window, an entire bedroom is visible. We see a black dresser and bed, along with a safe, and the door to the bedroom. It takes me a few moments to recognize the bed, but I know it must be Jeremy’s bedroom in his house.
Suddenly, the door to the bedroom flies open and Jeremy walks through it, a young girl following behind him. She’s very pretty and curvaceous, her blonde hair flowing down her back as she jumps up and reaches around Jeremy’s neck. She pulls him into a kiss.
Oh my God, that’s Evangeline Carter! My mouth goes dry.
They continue to kiss passionately as she reaches down to undo Jeremy’s pants. I snap out of my shock and my stomach rolls, seeing Jeremy fondle this young girl.
I flip around to face away from the TV, holding my stomach. I look down at Scott and he eyes me apprehensively. Damn. But how am I supposed to not care about seeing this?
“Rich, I don’t want to see this,” I say, annoyed.
I see Scott reach next to the couch and pick up a smaller remote. He hands it to Rich. Rich thanks him and presses a button, telling me to turn around again.
When I turn around, I see Jeremy lying in the bed under the covers, his chest obscured with her blonde hair. I swallow hard, willing myself not to throw up.
They stay like that for a few moments until his chest rises and falls, deeply and evenly. Her head slowly picks up and she looks at him for a moment. When he doesn’t move, she throws her legs over the side of the bed and pulls on her shirt and skirt.
She gets up from the bed and moves around to the opposite side. She ducks and is off camera for a moment. “What is she doing?” I ask.
“Wait,” Rich says. “Here it comes.”
She appears again, lifting a bag that she wasn’t carrying before. She opens it and rummages through it. She pulls out what looks to be money and stuffs it in her pocket, dropping the bag to the floor.
My mouth drops open. “She’s stealing from him?” I ask, aghast.
“There’s more. Watch,” Rich instructs as the victim walks to Jeremy’s closet. She looks behind her shoulder at him for a moment before she pulls the doors open and walks in. She’s in the closet for a few moments before she walks out, carrying a handful of clothing. She holds up a plastic bag with her other hand and places the clothing at her feet so she can open the bag. She pulls out a smaller bag, a needle, and what looks like a spoon.
I gasp. “Holy shit,” Scott mutters.
She eyes the bag for a moment and then looks up to Jeremy on the bed. She puts the needle in her mouth, holding it with her teeth, as she pulls a lighter out of her pocket. She pours some of the powder from the bag onto the spoon and holds the rest in her palm. She flicks her lighter and puts the spoon over the flame. She studies the content for a few moments before removing the needle from her mouth and using it to draw in the liquid from the spoon.
She looks around her and ducks again when her eyes lock on something. She stands back up again after a few moments, the spoon now replaced with a belt. She slides the belt over her arm and pulls it tight. She lines up the needle and inserts it into the crook of her arm. As she pushes the plunger in, she throws her head back and closes her eyes.
She removes the needle and throws the belt off of her arm. The belt must hit louder than she expected because she jumps before walking quickly to the door. Before reaching the door, she falls sideways into the wall, folding in on herself. She opens the door and exits, still leaning over as if she wants to vomit before shutting the door behind her. After a few moments of watching Jeremy sleep soundly, none the wiser, Rich turns the tape off.
I stand completely still, barely breathing, while I absorb what I had just seen.
“But you said you didn’t do it.”
“Not intentionally…”
Not intentionally. Oh my God.
“He didn’t do it. He’s not guilty,” I whisper in awe. I turn my head to look at Rich, who still appears stressed and upset. “How on Earth did you get this?” I question him.
“I have my ways. A lot of money and digging and threatening.”
I shake my head. “How did you even know it existed?”
“I found a couple of cameras in the bushes along the first floor a while back. When I was searching for my own evidence after they found her body, I saw some duct tape wrapped around a branch in the tree outside of his bedroom window. When I found the cameras in the bushes, they used duct tape to hold them in place. I knew there must have been another camera. I figured I would try to find the tape and hope it had this night on it.”
I’m completely dumbfounded. “Can this evidence be used? I mean, how am I supposed to explain this?” Rich asks me, nervously.
“It can be used,” Scott says from behind me. I almost forgot he was here. I turn and look at him, catching him looking up at me as he continues to speak. “One of the state’s Supreme Courts had a similar issue occur. They ruled that illegally obtained evidence can be used if it clears the person from the crime they’re being charged with.”
Oh my God…so that means…
“He’ll be let go?” I ask Scott.
Scott lowers his head so he can look towards the floor, unable to look at me. “Yes. I’m almost sure.” His voice sounds so sad, so defeated.
I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and put my hand over my heart. Waves of relief and thankfulness to whatever higher power exists flow from my soul. I start hyperventilating and I’m unsure why.
“Dylan?” Rich asks me, grabbing my arm. I hear him by my ear. “Are you alright?”
“Thank God, Richie,” I exhale sharply. I turn and throw my arms around him, crying into his shoulder.
I peek up in time to see Scott stand. He barely looks up at me from under his beautifully long lashes. His handsome face is pale and worn. “I, uh…” he mumbles. He runs his hand through his hair. “I should go.”
He throws himself around quickly and walks towards the door. I want to open my mouth and stop him. I want to tell him to stay. But the words won’t come. Because right now the only thing I can think about is him.
Jeremy…Jeremy…my Jeremy…
Chapter 13- Being Happy
Even though I was used to Scott being away for business, the house felt empty and I felt lonely without him. I think it’s because I know what the ramifications are of his leaving this time. I know that the relationship is falling apart, if it hasn’t completely shattered already.
My father had come home shortly after Rich left and I told him what had happened. My mind didn’t once travel to Scott the entire night, until it was time for me to climb into bed. I could barely sleep the night before, the sadness so overwhelming I was plagued with headaches.. Now, as I lay here in bed, watching the rising sun spill through my closed blinds, I have no idea how to proceed from here.
Unfortunately, I don’t have all day to spend wallowing in bed. At the very least I have to get up, get dressed, and act as normal as possible so I can take my dad to the airport. I focus on that as I get up and run through my morning routine before heading out of the steamy bathroom to make coffee.
I catch my dad in the kitchen already, hovering over the coffee maker. I smile. “Hey, Dad,” I whisper. He jumps.
“Oh, hey sleepy. It’s almost ten, you know. Where’s Scott? I didn’t hear him come in last night. More business?”
Ouch.
I visibly fold in on myself. My dad eyes me warily. “Something like that,” I choke out. I suddenly can’t feel my feet very well and I’m dizzy. The nausea comes back in full force, rolling my stomach. I walk away from him, failing terribly at being nonchalant, and crash on the couch. I pull my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them.
I try to leave my mind blank so I don’t throw up or hyperventilate. I’m so confused and my mind seems like it hasn’t been working the way it used to. I feel…so different.
I hear my
dad’s slow and quiet footsteps coming towards me. I feel him sit down on the couch next to me and place his big hand on my back. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly. I squeeze my eyes shut.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
My dad sighs. “I thought you were, you know, happy. That the stress of the trial is over and now you can move forward.”
I know my dad means move forward with Scott. I’ve given him no indication to think otherwise. “Move forward,” I repeat. How can I do that when I don’t know which way to go?
“I can’t follow your moods lately. Sometimes it seems like you’re fine. Last night, you handled the news very well. Then you wake up this morning melancholy. Did something happen? What’s been going on?”
I really don’t have a good explanation. My moods have been all over the place, but I blame it on the situation. And I can’t very well tell him all the details of what happened between Jeremy and I during the investigation. He definitely wouldn’t want to know.
“I don’t know, dad. I guess I’m just confused. I don’t know what to do or where to go. I don’t know what to expect.”
“Dylan, look at me,” my dad commands. I look at him, startled at his demanding voice. He clears his throat. “I just want to tell you something important.”
I nod. “Okay, Dad.” My heart feels like it stops in my chest.
“This is hard for me to say. But I want you to hear it. Remember when I was talking about people who would never be happy?”
I nod again. My mouth is too dry to speak.
“I was talking about you, Dylan. You have so much of your mother in you. Not all of that is bad. But you were always so interested in what other people thought or what other people expected of you that you just kind of did whatever you thought would be best for you. Logically, you know? Not what you actually wanted to do.”
Was I like that? I never thought of myself like that.
“I just want you to know that you need to do whatever is going to make you happy. Don’t do what you think is right for me, someone else, or even yourself. Do what you feel in your heart will make you happy.”
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