by Roe, Amy
Brady and Kyle made sure that he is in the best shape he can be before going in, but he has no idea of his new routine—except that he’s about to get his ass kicked for the next ten weeks. My mom is, I’m sure, just devastated that her only son chose such a dangerous career that places him just about anywhere outside of home. And my dad is probably thinking the same thing as my mom, but he’s so proud to be a soldier’s father that he’s nearly busting at the seams.
I wonder how it will feel to be the only kid in the house. I’m sure my parents will be bored. I won’t be keeping them entertained with a sport for every season like Kyle did.
Once we arrive at the recruiting office, Kyle and my dad go inside to let them know that we’re here while my mother and I sit in silence on a patio table outside. I have so many emotions built up inside me right now, so much that I want to burst out bawling, but I know that will cause my mom to start, too, and once we start, we won’t be able to stop. I don’t want my last few minutes with Kyle to be that way, so I push the tears down and lift my chin while taking a deep breath.
The door opens, and my dad and Kyle join my mom and me.
Kyle wraps his arm around my neck and whispers in my ear, “Take care of yourself. Behave, and for God’s sake, stay away from boys!”
“I will, Ky,” I say, choking back tears.
He palms the back of my head, squeezing me tighter. “I’ll see you in ten weeks.”
“I love you.” I can’t hold it back anymore, and I let the tears fall. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.
“I love you, little sis.” His voice cracks, and I fall into an uncontrollable sob against him.
My mom wraps her arms around both of us as she lays her head on his shoulder. She cries until the other families start to show up and my dad gently breaks up the embrace. We stay until the van arrives to take all the boys away, and then we stand at our car until the van is out of sight.
For the first thirty minutes on the car ride home, my heart breaks right alongside my mom’s as we cry. I watch as my dad shows no emotion. I know that men are different than women with this stuff, but I will him to reach out and soothe my mom, to hold her hand or something, but he doesn’t. Between the three of us, I think we’ve only said ten words so far on the three-hour drive home.
Finally, my mind wanders off, and again, I think about how different this summer is going to be without Kyle at home. I’ll be the only kid around. I guess this could work out in my favor.
While it’s odd not having Kyle here, the rest of the week is pretty routine—aside from the fact that, a few times, I’ve caught myself running into Kyle’s room to tell him something before spending the rest of those days missing him terribly.
Every morning at nine, I show up for my shift at Tiny Tot Child Care where I’ve worked summers for three years now. In the evenings, I sometimes meet Chelsea for coffee.
On her seventeenth birthday, which is a month after mine, Chelsea, Connor, and I go to The Pit.
A few weeks ago, Chelsea stayed with me, and she hit me with a big announcement that was no surprise, but it was nonetheless a big deal. We were sitting on my bed, painting our nails and watching videos on YouTube.
“So, I have to tell you something,” she says with a sheepish grin on her face.
“Okay, hit me.” I act as if I don’t know what is coming.
“Well, a few weeks ago…Connor and I…you know, we were together!” Her eyes grow huge, and she squeals and bounces, shaking the bed.
“Ah, the polish!” I grab it and set it on my nightstand before looking back to her. “Wow. So, how was it?”
“Um…it was fine. I mean, first times aren’t all that great for girls, you know.” She blows her nails.
“No, actually, I don’t know, but that kinda sucks.”
“It’s okay. The second time was so much better.”
“Oh, so there have been multiple times now.” I guess I’m kinda surprised that she didn’t tell me before now, especially if she’s been doing this for a while.
“Well, yeah. Once you do it, you want it all the time!” We both laugh. “I know you have questions, so ask me something!” She’s enjoying this a little too much, but that’s just Chelsea.
“Um…okay. Did it hurt?” That’s the biggest fear I have—well, one of them.
“Yes, it did, but it wasn’t too bad. I didn’t scream or cry or anything.”
I get off my bed and walk over to the mirror. “We’re getting old, Chels. It’s crazy. I feel like I’m so behind on the whole social thing.” I examine my reflection.
“That’s because you are, babe. You need to start hanging out more. Summer will be over before you know it, and you don’t want to waste it.” She lies down on her side, propping her head on her arm.
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” I look myself in the eyes.
Friday morning, my mom reminds me of my appointment with Dr. Lana. I opt for Chelsea to go with me because I want to talk to her. The gynecologist’s office might be the only place where I can get her away from Connor. Besides, going to the appointment with my mom would just be awkward.
I write my name on the clipboard at the small window in Dr. Lana’s office. Then, I sit down next to Chelsea to fill out the paperwork. My mom took care of most of it. I just have to answer some personal questions. As I’m writing, I start working on Chelsea for some answers.
“So, things look like they’re going good between you and Connor.”
She’s rummaging through her purse for something. “Yeah, they are. He’s cool, huh?”
“I guess so.” I look up at her.
She tips her head, and she narrows her eyes.
“He’s a freakin’ perv, Chels.” There. I said it—again.
“Oh, stop. He is not! You’re a mystery to him. You look like Marilyn Monroe on the outside, but you act like a damn nun. Like I’ve told you for years, boys are intimidated by you. He just likes to torture you. He’s just being a guy.”
I shake my head in amusement and look back down to continue answering the five hundred questions on the sheet. “Marilyn Monroe, my ass! I wish!”
“Yes, your ass is quite fine.” She nudges me on the shoulder and then turns her attention to her phone.
“So, how did you know he was the one?” I ask.
She pauses, and I can feel her looking at me.
“The one? As in, the one forever and always? Well, I don’t know that he is. I mean, I’m seventeen. I’m not really thinking of the guy who I’m going to marry and have babies with. He is, however, the one today. With Connor, I guess I didn’t feel pressured. The day that it happened, we didn’t plan it. It just happened.”
“Oh, so you don’t regret anything? Like, if you could do it differently, you wouldn’t?”
“I don’t think so. Well, maybe minor things, like I would have worn a sexy bra and panties!” She leans in, laughing, as the nurse calls my name.
I make it through the appointment unscathed, and I opt for a birth-control implant in my arm. It lasts five years, and that will make me twenty-two before I have to address this issue again.
Saturday, my parents demand that I go with them to Gramma’s house for a memorial dinner for my dad’s brother, Randy.
So, here I am, wasting a perfectly good afternoon with my annoying cousins. We’re sitting in the basement where we played when we were kids. All the adults are upstairs, singing undeserved praises to Uncle Randy, my dad’s oldest sibling. He was killed in a car accident ten years ago. My dad was following behind him and saw the whole thing. He really shut down after that, and even to this day, he never talks about his brother or the accident—that is, unless he’s here at Gramma’s. Even then, it’s obvious that he only does so to appease his mother.
Miley, Kimberly, and Ashley—my cousins—and I were all born within months of each other. We grew up together and spent a lot of time at this house when our parents were in their party phase. Miley and Kimberly’s mom is m
y dad’s sister, Erin, and Ashley’s dad, Todd, is my dad’s brother. They would drop us all off with Gramma for the night or even the weekend sometimes, and then they’d go out together. It’s hard to believe that my parents were once cool.
“Do you guys think that’s why our parents quit going out?” I didn’t intend to voice that out loud. It just kinda came out. I guess it was one of those aha moments. I sit up on the edge of the couch. “They quit going out after Uncle Randy’s accident.” That was when everything changed in my house.
I look at my cousins, but they don’t make eye contact with me, only with each other. It’s clear that they don’t want to talk about it, so I sit back and continue watching TV.
“Reese, you really don’t know what happened, do you?” Miley says.
Kimberly and Ashley smack at her leg and shush her.
“Know what?” Intrigued, I look at Miley. I figure it must be good if they don’t want her to tell me.
“Well, tell us what you do know, Reese,” Miley says.
“Uncle Randy died in a car accident, and my dad saw it.”
“What did you think of Uncle Randy? Did you like him?”
That’s an odd question. “I don’t know. I don’t remember him. I do know that he pissed my dad off all the time.”
“Yeah, he was a douche bag,” Ashley chimes in.
“Randy never…when we were kids, did he ever…you know, touch you?” Miley asks, looking at me.
For a minute, everything just pauses. I hear nothing. I’m sure she’s just being stupid, but when I look at Kimberly and Ashley, they aren’t laughing or making eye contact with either of us, and I get a little freaked out.
“What?” I jump up off the couch and race the other side of the room. “No! Of course not! What the hell is wrong with you?”
They sit quietly, looking at me.
At this point, I’m having one of those out-of-body moments. It just doesn’t feel real—that this could have happened to one of them. And certainly it couldn’t have happened to me. I’m convinced that, at any minute, they are going to tell me this is some sick joke. When what feels like minutes pass, I assume they are telling me the truth.
“Oh my God! Did he touch someone?” My heart is racing.
“Reese, quiet down,” Kimberly begs.
They all stand up from the sofa and make a circle around me.
“No! If he did something to one of you, I’m telling my parents!” I hold my hands up in an attempt to keep them back.
“Stop it. Just stop it. Sit down,” Ashley demands.
Kimberly and Ashley each grab one of my arms, and they try to lead me to the couch to sit down.
“Tell me, or I’m walking out there and making a scene.” I pull away from them.
“Okay, okay. Sit down,” Ashley says.
They pull me down and sit on either side of me.
“He tried to…he tried…” Kimberly shakes her head as if correcting her choice of words. “He did touch all of us,” she whispers, looking at the steps to be sure that no one is coming.
“What the fuck?” I yell.
Ashley smacks her hand over my mouth. “Reese, I swear to God, if you start any drama, I’m gonna beat your ass. I am in enough trouble with my parents right now. It would break Gramma’s heart if she knew what a piece of shit her own kid was.”
I stand, but Miley walks to me and tries to push me back down.
When I don’t sit down, she gets in my face. “Unless you want to ruin an old lady’s last years alive, I suggest that you plant your goody-two-shoes ass down and shut the fuck up.”
“Don’t touch me! I can’t be still right now.” I pace across the floor. “You have to tell your parents. They need to know this. You are seriously telling me that Gramma does not know this?”
“No, we’re not telling anyone. Nothing ever actually happened. He just tried.” Kimberly is standing in front of the stairs, so I can’t make a break for it.
“He touched you! That’s not okay!” I hiss, looking at each one of them. “Where was everyone else when this happened? When did this happen?”
“When we used to stay here at Gramma’s house,” Ashley says.
“But I was here, and I never saw him do anything.” I violently shake my head.
“That’s bullshit, Reese! He tried to get under my nightgown a few times with you sitting right next to me. He pressed himself against us whenever he could. Why are you playing dumb? You’re just as bad as all of them upstairs,” Miley states as if she’s talking about a movie. She shows no emotion at all.
“And you?” I look at Ashley.
She looks at the ground. “He touched me through my clothes and tried to get me under a blanket with him, but I didn’t go.”
“I can’t believe this shit. And you all thought he did something to me?” I look at each one of them.
“You really don’t remember any of it, do you?” Miley says in her smart-ass tone. “You don’t recall going into Gramma’s bed at night just to be sure that he wouldn’t get to us after we fell asleep? You have no memory of us all wearing jeans when we came over here just so he couldn’t get up our shorts or dresses? Or, how about our pact that we would never leave anyone alone, even to go to the bathroom, while he was home?”
I’m begging myself to remember something, and then memories crash into my mind all at once. Suddenly, visuals come flooding in. I do remember it all. Oh my fucking God! I feel like I’m going to vomit. I remember Randy sliding his hand up my leg, and I stopped him by running into Gramma’s bedroom and lying in bed with her. I remember his smell, and I remember avoiding him as much as I could.
Miley is leaning against the wall with her usual smug look on her face. “Yeah, you were there, and we just figured—”
“Figured what?” I walk over and stand directly in front of her.
“Figured that maybe he did something, and that’s why you have…you know, issues or whatever.” She waves her hand and tips her head.
“Issues? What issues do I have? And how long have you all thought this? No one told me this! Who knows he did this to us?” Losing my breath, a panic attack threatens to assault me.
“Reese, calm down. Relax, honey.” Kimberly puts her hands on my shoulders, walks me over to the couch, and lowers me down. She bends down to look me in the eyes.
“Tell me now!” I scream.
Ashley squeezes my wrist. “Shut the fuck up, Reese.” She grits her teeth.
I shake my head, trying to clear it. “What issues do I have exactly?”
They just remain silent.
As soon as Ashley lets go of me, I dart to the steps, and they all jump up and rush over to me.
“Talk now, or I scream,” I say.
“Okay. Like, your panic attacks, and you’re…you know, kind of a loner,” Kimberly says softly.
“I haven’t had a panic attack in a long time! And no, I don’t know. Since you all have the answers, do tell.” I cross my arms over my chest and look at each of my cousins.
“You’re…like…you’re a seventeen-year-old virgin,” Miley says.
“Ugh!” I gasp and lunge at Miley. She backs away before I’m able to make contact. “Are you kidding me? My virginity is not an issue. I just choose not to be a slut like you!”
Kimberly and Ashley hold me back, so I can’t rip Miley’s cocky face off.
“Fuck you, Reese. We didn’t do anything to you.” Miley throws her arms in the air and falls down onto the couch.
“What’s going on in here? What are you guys fighting about?” Gramma walks in, and we all stare at each other. “Well?”
“Nothing, Gramma. We played a joke and took it too far. It’s fine.” Ashley walks over and hugs her.
“It’s fine, Gramma, really,” Kimberly says.
“Okay, if you girls say so. I love you all.” She starts back up the stairs.
“Love you, too, Gramma,” we all call after her.
I shove past Kimberly and Ashley on my way out of
the room. In the spare bedroom across the hall, I slam myself onto the bed, and I pull my phone out of my pocket.
Kimberly joins me and lies down next to me. “Honey, listen,” she says like I’m a two-year-old.
“Don’t treat me like a child, Kim.” I shove her away from me.
“Miley’s a bitch, and she shouldn’t have told you that stuff.”
I need to get the hell out of here, but I know my parents aren’t going to let me leave even if I ask.
I type out a text as fast as my fingers allow.
Chelsea?
I’m tapping my fingernails on the back of my phone.
I need you. Where are you?
Why isn’t she responding?
Miley enters the room and sits down next to me. “Reese, this is exactly why we didn’t tell you. Here’s the deal…”
I’m not listening to a damn word she says, nor do I care to. At this point, I just want out of here.
I just got home. What’s wrong?
Please come get me now. I’m at my gramma’s.
On my way. Are you okay?
Miley’s voice is annoying the shit out of me. “Do you understand me, Reese?”
What? I obviously missed something.
“What?” I ask, looking into her cold stare.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” she asks, irritated.
“No, I didn’t. I don’t care what you have to say.”
“You’d just better keep your mouth shut, Reese.”
“Get away from me, Miley. Now!” I point my finger at the door.
Surprisingly, Miley and Kimberly leave me, and as soon as they do, I run up the stairs and out the back door. Chelsea hasn’t arrived yet, so I head down the street. I’m just walking. I’m going nowhere in particular. I just want to be anywhere but here. My thoughts are everywhere.
I’m hot and sweaty. Ugh, I’m so pissed.
More than anything, I’m confused.
How could I have forgotten this? Why didn’t my cousins say something about this before now?