by Zoe Fishman
He left the room, and I closed my eyes in frustration. For all I knew, David was home confessing to my parents right now, and I knew M.K. and Jill were at the beach. Shit. I eyed my phone. Should I call Chris? I was sure I looked like a beast, which wouldn’t be good for anybody involved. I hauled myself out of the chair and went to the bathroom to check out the damage. I expected to see the guy from The Mask staring back at me but was surprised by the reflection of the same old me. I filled a Dixie cup with water and attempted to drink it. Water spilled down my chin and neck. Sexy.
I had no choice. It was either call Chris or sit around and wait while Charlene the receptionist bored holes of hatred into my skull. I wiped my face off with a paper towel and made the call.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Hey, Chris.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Hi,” I said again, trying my best to enunciate. “I’m at the dentist.”
“You’re at the what?”
“The dentist.”
“Oh, the dentist. No wonder you sound like you’re chewin’ on cotton balls. You have some work done?”
“Oh yeah. Major work.”
“Major Tom? What?”
“Are you busy right now?” I watched my exaggerated mouth movements in the mirror. I looked like one of those ventriloquist dummies.
“Naw, actually. I just got off work. You need me to pick you up?”
“Could you?”
“Sure, Ruth. You at Dr. Cooper’s office?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“Where else would you be?” Every time I forgot how small this town was, it reminded me. “No problem, I’ll be there in ten.”
“Thank you, Chris. I appreciate it.”
“You ate what?”
“Nothing. Thanks. See you soon.”
“Yep.” He hung up. So this was what having a good boyfriend was like. You needed their help, and they delivered. I thought about Tony for the first time in weeks. He wouldn’t even walk me home, and my dorm had been a block away.
I waited outside on the sun-drenched curb, burning the backs of my thighs in the process. I felt woozy and out of sorts, but also strangely aroused. Maybe it was because a man was on his way to rescue me. It wasn’t exactly a Disney plotline, but it was enough. Chris’s truck pulled into the parking lot, and he honked hello. I stood up and waved.
“Hey there,” he said. He reached over to unlock my door. “Hop on in.”
“Hi!”
“You okay?” He gave me a concerned look. “Is your mouth all jacked up?”
“Yeah, I got a bunch of stuff done. It’s a mess.”
“It doesn’t look like a mess to me.” He grinned and began to drive.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“Oh, it was fine. I was workin’ a construction job, so I apologize for the smell.” He sniffed his armpit. “I’m pretty rank.”
“You smell like roses.”
“Yeah, roses dipped in shit.” I stole a glance at myself in his rearview mirror. Was I drooling on myself? I touched my chin. It was wet. I tried to wipe it away as subtly as possible. “So, where can I take you, m’lady? You want to go home and rest?”
“No, don’t take me home.” The novocaine was wearing off, but my mouth still sounded a bit like it was filled with marbles. “Let’s go to the playground at Jacob Ray.”
“The elementary school? Really?”
“It’ll be fun. We can swing on the swings.”
“What did they give you at that doctor’s office?”
“C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
“You sure? Aren’t you in pain?”
“It’s not so bad anymore.”
“All right. As you wish.” He put his hand on my knee. “So, how was your Fourth?”
“I’ve had better ones.”
“Why? Cuz you were workin’?” I wanted to tell him about David, but I had promised to keep my mouth shut.
“Yeah, I guess. And some family stuff.”
“What kind of stuff? Is everyone okay?”
“Oh yeah, we’re fine. It’s nothing.” We drove in silence for a bit.
“You know, you can tell me anything, Ruth. Whatever is bothering you, I’d like to know about it. I like you.” He glanced at me with a hopeful smile.
“I like you too. It’s nothing. Really. My mouth just hurts, that’s all.”
“You sure? Sometimes I feel like you keep everything inside of you, locked up.”
“Whaddya mean? You haven’t even really known me long enough to say that.”
“Girl, I’ve known you since you were in kindergarten. C’mon now.”
“Yeah, technically. But you don’t really know me, know me yet.” We turned into my neighborhood. “We haven’t been doing this that long.”
“What do you mean by ‘this’?”
“You know, this. Us.”
“That is true. What do you think about this, by the way?”
I blushed. “I like it. I mean, I’m going back to school soon, so there’s that.”
“Yeah, that’s true. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make the most of right now, right?”
“Yeah. I guess I’m a little bit worried, though, to be honest.” Maybe the ibuprofen doubled as a truth serum.
“Worried about what?” He pulled into the school parking lot.
“I mean, what is this leading to? We can’t expect a long-distance thing. That just seems silly to me.”
“Well, maybe. But who knows? I like you. You just said that you like me.” He turned off the ignition, and I nodded. “We’ll just see what happens.” We got out of the car.
“See, that’s hard for me—to just see what happens.” He took my hand, and we walked toward the playground.
“I just have a hard time letting go, I guess. I like to be in control.”
“Isn’t that kind of boring?”
“Yeah, it is. But also comforting. I like seeing point A and B and C in my mind.”
“So what happens when you’re thrown off course? Life does that all the time, ya know.”
“I freak out,” I answered. “I obsess.” It occurred to me that that must be a part of the reason why David’s behavior was so upsetting. His character had already been formed and determined in my mind, and now his behavior was eradicating all that I expected him to be. I couldn’t even fathom what his point C looked like right now.
“That doesn’t sound like much fun,” said Chris. “Sometimes the unexpected stuff is the best stuff.” He laughed. “I sound like a Hallmark card.”
“You don’t. And you’re right, anyway. I want to let go, but it’s just really hard for me.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” We stopped in front of my old third-grade classroom. I peered through the window to marvel at the tiny desks. When I stood up, he kissed me.
“Can you feel that?” he asked, cupping my jaw. “Or are you all numb still?”
“Not really,” I answered, laughing. “Let’s try it some more.” As we kissed, I felt a wave of aggression wash over me. It was as though all of the nerves in the rest of my body were making up for those that were off-duty in my mouth. I wanted to jump up and wrap my legs around him like they did in the movies, but my fear of paralyzing him with my weight in the process stopped me. You never saw that onscreen.
“Let’s see if one of the portables is open,” I said. Do it, Ruth. Just go with it.
“You serious?”
“Do I look like I’m serious?”
“Okay, I’ll start down at the other end, and you start here. If one is open, just shout,” I strategized. I needed to act fast before I lost my nerve. Not only had Dr. Cooper fed me truth serum, he had apparently dissolved an ecstasy tab in that little blue cup of mouthwash as w
ell.
I ran down the line of white boxes, feeling silly and exhilarated. Up the first set of stairs I went. No dice, I whispered, trying the lock. Onto the next. Nothing. Third time’s the charm? Nope.
“Hey, Ruth, we’ve got a winner!” called Chris. He stood two portables away with the door open in front of him. Was I really doing this? For a moment, fright seized me. I hadn’t shaved, my mouth was still sort of numb, and I was bloated. Please, Ruth, stop overanalyzing everything. Just do this. I willed my feet to run over. He took my hand as I bounded up the last step, and we looked at each other shyly.
“You sure you wanna do this? We don’t—”
“I’m sure, Chris.”
We began to kiss again, this time fiercely. I ripped off his baseball cap and threw it across the room.
“Hey, careful,” he purred. He pulled my tank top over my head, and out of habit I sucked in my stomach nervously. “Relax, Ruth. You’re beautiful.” He unclasped my bra and stroked the sides of my torso before cupping my breasts gently.
I ripped off his T-shirt and pushed him back onto the desk before unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them off roughly. I straddled him and began grinding against him, as the pressure built inside of me. The pressure of not eating . . . the pressure of my parents . . . the pressure of David and his secrets . . . the pressure of not knowing what I would open the door to when I went home after this. A million vibrations coursed through me like fireworks as the dam burst, and I threw my head back in blissful surrender.
I collapsed against his chest. “Oh my God,” I panted.
He picked me up and sat me back down on the desk, removing my underwear with focused concentration. He took his off and put the condom on before pulling me toward him. My whole body moved with him until he gasped and fell into me. I lay back on the desk, and he lay on top of me—his heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings.
He moaned, rolling off of me. He sat on the desk’s ledge. “Well, that was about as unexpected as it gets.” He turned to smile at me. I sat up. We were both completely naked except for his shoes and socks.
“That’s a good look for you.”
He laughed. “Thanks. I got it off one of them fashion shows on the teevee,” he replied in an exaggerated southern accent. He stood up and pulled on his underwear and shorts as I scrambled for mine.
“I don’t know what got into me,” I confessed, pulling my shirt on over my head.
“That was somethin’.” He buttoned his shorts. “Let’s sit here for a minute. Where are we rushin’ to?” He took my hand, and we leaned against the desk.
“You seduced me,” he whispered.
“I guess I did.”
“How’s your mouth? You wanna go get somethin’ to eat?”
“I can’t. I need to get home.”
“Heartbreaker.” He pulled me into a hug, and I closed my eyes against his heartbeat.
25
I opened the back door, and the tension suffocated me immediately. There they all were—Mom, Dad, and David—hunched around the kitchen table like zombies. Mom’s eyes were red and swollen, and Dad frowned stoically into the gleaming surface of the wood. David’s head was in his hands. On the floor beneath them, Maddie lifted her head limply.
“What’s going on?” I asked meekly.
“Sit,” Dad instructed. I obeyed, sliding into my usual spot with a thud.
“Did you know about this?” he asked. His eyes blazed with anger.
“Know about what?”
“Oh Jesus, Ruth, don’t play dumb!” yelled Mom.
“I heard a rumor a few weeks back.”
“And did you confront David then?” I looked at my brother, his head still in his hands.
“No. I waited.”
“And during any of that time, did you even consider sharing this rumor with us?”
“No, I thought it was just a dumb rumor. There wasn’t any reason to share it with anybody.”
“What about when I told you that I was worried about David?” asked Dad. “Was that not a good enough reason to speak up?”
“I don’t think I had heard the rumor at that point,” I mumbled.
“But you knew that we were concerned, and still you said nothing.” Mom slapped her hand on the table. “Nothing!”
“Why is this about me?” I cried. “David’s the one with the problem.” I stared her down.
“No, this is all of our problem,” said Dad. “This is a family problem. We are a family, goddammit!”
“Listen, I don’t know any more about this than you do. I heard a rumor, and then I told David what I had heard. That’s it. That’s all I know.”
“She’s telling the truth,” said David, lifting up his head. “We only spoke about it yesterday, for God’s sake.”
“Fine.” Dad sighed heavily. “Ruth, David’s been sitting here telling us about the wonderful semester he had pretending to be in school. About all of the wonderful things he did, including forging his report card with his tech geek friend and intercepting letters about his rescinded scholarship. David, do tell us more. Please?” Dad was snarling. His tone reminded me of Mary’s when we had met her in Tanisha’s hospital room. This was what a threatened parent sounded like—a wounded bear caught in a steel trap.
“David, please, what we just don’t understand is why?” asked Mom.
“I told you why. College is not for me right now.”
“Oh, really?” asked Dad. “College is not for you. And I suppose a career is not for you? Or a family that you can support? Or soccer? That’s not for you either? Twenty-one years of playing and it’s suddenly not for you?”
“Dad, I couldn’t even get out of bed in the morning to go to class.”
“What? This is your excuse? You think I wake up every morning dying to get to work?” He laughed maniacally. “That’s rich, David. It really is.”
“Sam, please. Calm down for a minute,” interjected Mom. “David, go on. Please.” She covered my dad’s hand with her own. “Explain this to us.”
His eyes teared, as did my own. He continued softly.
“It started around October, I guess. I was tired all of the time, and I couldn’t understand why. I didn’t care about my friends, or going out, or anything. When the alarm went off in the morning, I couldn’t get out of bed. I wanted to, but I just couldn’t will myself to do it most of the time. And when I did, and forced myself to go to class, I sat there completely uninterested. It was like I was suspended in Jell-O or something.”
“Were you still going to soccer practice?” asked Mom.
“I was, but I was terrible. I couldn’t pass the ball. I couldn’t take shots on goal—nothing. Coach noticed, of course, but he chalked it up to me just being lazy. Pretty soon I was riding the bench every game, watching the games pass by from the sidelines, feeling listless.”
“Were you angry that the coach benched you?” I asked.
“Not really. Like I said, I was suspended in Jell-O. It was like nothing mattered to me. I couldn’t even find the energy to get mad.”
“Didn’t you have anybody to talk to?” asked Mom.
“I tried to talk about it, but it all seemed so pointless. And I was scared a little, you know? I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. Nothing was the same.”
“Did you think about going to speak to someone? A psychologist on campus?”
“I thought about it, sure. But I was embarrassed. People who go to shrinks are crazy.” Mom’s mouth opened to argue. “I know, I know, that’s not true. But that’s how I thought about it. I mean, can you imagine Dad going to a shrink? Or any of my friends? It just seemed like a waste of time to me.”
“So what did you do?”
“Well, to be perfectly blunt, I smoked a lot of weed.” My parents’ eyes widened to comical proportions. Here we go.
“You
did what?” asked Dad, removing his hand from underneath Mom’s and balling it into a fist.
“Shit, I mean, do you want me to be honest here or what? You asked for the story, and I’m telling it to you. Okay?” Dad shook his head. “So that’s what I did. And it made me feel better—less alone. And for the record, I have not dropped out, like you all keep saying. I’ve taken a leave of absence. I spoke to the dean and took care of the shit I needed to take care of.”
“You did?” asked Mom.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Didn’t they advise you to see a counselor when you made the request? Or to tell us?”
“They did, and I did go once, but I just couldn’t connect with him. I felt like he was condescending and sort of a jerk.”
“So you can re-enroll at any time?” asked Dad.
“Yeah, I can.”
“Did you happen to think about the fact that you’d certainly lose your scholarship, or did that not occur to you?”
“Of course I thought about it, Dad! I thought about it, and then I thought about how fucking miserable I was, and I went ahead with the leave of absence anyway. It’s nice to know that money trumps my happiness from your perspective. Real nice. Thanks.”
“You ungrateful little jerk!” Dad yelled. “All those years of driving you to soccer game after soccer game and why? Because you loved it. You told us you loved it. And then, when that kind of passion pays off with a free ride to a reputable college, you throw it down the drain because you’re feeling a little low. Perfect.”
“You’re an asshole,” replied David.
“Oh really, I’m the asshole! Great. You’re forging report cards like Bernie Fucking Madoff and I’m the asshole.”
“Sam, please! Try to calm down,” said Mom. “Really, just take a deep breath, okay? Anger is not going to fix anything here.” She turned back to David. “Which is not to say that I’m not angry as hell too, David. More about your lying than anything else. You still haven’t told us why you went to all of this trouble to cover it up. Why not just come clean to us? Why not just call and tell us you needed help?”
“You’re asking me that as Dad goes apeshit right here at this table? This is why. You both are why.” Her face crumpled.