Messed Up

by Owens, Molly

  For a long, unbearable moment while he looked at that tiny scrap of paper, I allowed myself to consider the possibility that I had gotten it all wrong. That maybe the map I’d found behind a cartoon polar bear at Yogurt Heaven was something else entirely. My heart began to pick up its thudding tempo as I considered that this might be the end of me; a painful and humiliating end I was certain.

  As Mr. Bennett contemplated the tiny swatch of paper, I began to gather my clothes from his desk, quickly pulling my jeans on under the nightgown and my sweatshirt over top. “There’s your proof,” I finally said as I sat back down. I was eager to get this over with, whatever the conclusion might be.

  “How do I get the rest of it,” he asked his voice having become sickly sweet, condescending even.

  “You’ll get it in two years,” I said, bracing myself for another explosion, “When I graduate from high school with all my limbs intact, and every member of the Fanning family alive.”

  “Two years!” he thundered, “What’s to stop me from torturing you until you tell me where it is?”

  “The map will be destroyed if I die or go missing,” I said trying to sound calm, but I could hear my voice beginning to crack, “Time is ticking, Mr. Bennett. There is no way I can call off those instructions. So it’s up to you. You’ve waited this long. Can you wait a couple years more? Or are you so impatient that you would risk losing it forever?”

  I watched him carefully as his face turned from white to red to a deep shade of purple. He grabbed a heavy crystal globe paper weight from his desk and heaved it fiercely at the wall behind my head. I could feel it pass my face in a quick burst of air. My body went motionless as the globe came into contact with the wall and shattered to the ground in a thousand tiny pieces. I closed my eyes for a moment to regain my focus. When I opened them again, Mr. Bennett’s face was inches from mine.

  “What if I don’t care about the map?” he spat the words at me.

  I nodded to my backpack where a copy of the DVD confession I had given to Conner sat, “Three copies of that DVD will be mailed if I ever to go missing or turn up dead. One will go to the District Attorney, one to the Police and one to the FBI. I’m pretty sure they’d all be interested in what I have to say about the death of Toby Fanning. Feel free to preview it if you haven’t already.”

  Alistair Bennett stood up and began pacing back and forth in the room, “And that’s it? That’s all you want?” he confirmed.

  “I want to have the assurance that you won’t kill me or any of the Fanning’s,” I reiterated, and then added my final request; the piece that would allow me to go back to being the Chelsea Mallory of two months ago, “And I want to you to send Levi away for his senior year. And, it should go without saying that he should think that the move was your idea.”

  At this he laughed his devilish giggle, “I’d already intended to do that after his insubordination last night,” he exhaled, “Fine. You have a deal.” What did he mean about Levi’s insubordination?

  We stared at each other for a moment longer; both wondering if the other had another card up his or her sleeve. Then we stood. I pulled the nightgown out from under my clothes and left it in a heap on the ground. I grabbed my backpack and headed for the door.

  “I’ll show you to your car,” he said, his smile turning to the gleaming white grin of his lawyer self. I followed him down the long dark, lifeless hallway, and through a side door leading out of the house.

  The warm glow of the sun cast long shadows from the oak trees on the driveway. The day was just ending, bringing me to the realization that I had been locked in that tiny torture cell for an entire twelve hour period. Time sure flies when you are unconscious or immobile with fear. I could feel my body begin to tremble subtly as I got within arm’s reach of my car. Was this really working? Was I actually going to be able to pull this off? The taste of victory sent my body into near convulsions.

  Mr. Bennett tapped my old Volvo, “You should have at least thrown a new car into our little agreement, Chelsea,” he smiled, almost warmly.

  I climbed in not answering him. He was so much like his son, switching between moods like they flavors of jelly beans. My hand trembled, as I forced the key into the ignition. I half expected my car to explode, like in a gangster movie, but it started up loudly, as always, and I put it into gear.

  Mr. Bennett knocked on my window and I grudgingly unrolled it so he I could hear him, “I look forward to working with you in the future, Chelsea.” I furrowed my brow at him. I hated the way he had to keep repeating my name.

  I reversed my car quickly, nearly knocking him over with its sudden movement.

  It wasn’t until I was at home, and locked in my room, that I finally let myself begin to sob. Big fat tears of pure joy gushing down my face, like a levy had just been breached. You did it, I told myself. You made it to the other side of evil. And if you want to know the truth, at that moment I felt more powerful than any five foot three inch sixteen year old girl has ever felt in the history of the universe. I swear. I’m not even exaggerating. I mean if I could take on Alistair Bennett, nothing could stop me.

  The whole event from finding the map, to constructing my elaborate plan, to breaking in and out of The Valencia, to being locked in the stark white cell of my nightmares in the Bennett mansion, all of it, took place in little more than twenty-four hours. Yet as I lay in my bed that night, looking up at the ceiling, the same ceiling I had stared at nearly every night of my entire life, it all appeared completely changed. In fact, my whole bedroom seemed to belong to a stranger; a version of myself I could barely recognize. The pink of my walls were a shade another girl would have selected, not me. The black and white photo of me and Hannah at my cousin’s wedding looked unfamiliar, as if a moment so carefree was impossible; those people simply could not have existed in this lifetime. It was like all at once I didn’t fit into the space I had inhabited so easily just days ago.

  I knew there were people I should call, first and foremost was Bryce, who was still hiding out with Sam, probably fearful for his very life. And then there was Conner. Of course I should call Conner and let him know I’d made it, that I was alive, the DVD’s could wait to be sent. I was too exhausted to have either of those conversations. So instead, I shed my clothes, put on my pajamas, and collapsed into bed. I fell asleep the instant my head hit the pillow.

  It was utterly dark when I woke up. Since the last traces of adrenaline were gone, the pain on my lower back where I had been branded like livestock had begun to burn intensely. There was also the stinging on my neck where Alistair Bennett had press the sharp edge of a pair of scissors to it. I rubbed my hand across my neck and felt the rough line of dried blood. Stumbling through my dark room I made my way to the bathroom. I groped for the faucet, turning on a stream of coldwater. I splashed it against my neck, dousing my entire chest in the process, “Crap!” I mumbled, frustrated that I would need to change into new pajamas. I reached to switch on the light, and as I looked up at my reflection, a jolt of terror ran through my body.

  39

  Standing behind me, his face carved like a fiendish looking jack-o-lantern, was Levi. I had to blink my eyes several times to fully comprehend what I was seeing. On either side of his perfect mouth was a small slit, about an inch in length. The cuts were mirrored on the outer corner of his eyes. Spreading over his white t-shirt, like a menacing Rorschach ink blot, was a deep red blood stain.

  “Oh my God, Levi!” I stammered, “Are you okay? What happened to you?” My legs became weak as the surprise of his startling appearance seeped through my body. He reached out for me and I reluctantly let myself be pulled into his arms. When he didn’t offer any explanation, I added, “Are you trying to give me a freaking heart attack?” I could feel his mouth turn up in small, albeit painful, smile.

  The blood from his stomach was flowing heavily, and I slowly realized my shirt was becoming increasingly moist as we pressed into each other. I pulled Levi by the hand and led him to my room, w
here I switched on my bedside lamp and retrieved the once forgotten and now in high demand first aid kit. I carefully lifted Levi’s shirt and gasped audibly. The gash was at least two inches in length and spread open, gapping wide and red, “Jesus,” I mumbled, “This cut is beyond my expertise, Levi. You need to go to the hospital.”

  “I was on my way to my doctor, but I needed to talk to you first,” his voice was so quiet, he sounded fragile, like if he spoke any louder his whole being might crumble to small dusty pieces on the carpet.

  “I’ll drive. You can talk on the way,” I said forcefully. Levi and I had our issues, but I wasn’t about to let him bleed to death on my watch; I had enough guilt to live with for one lifetime.

  “Nah,” he said leaning back so his head could rest on the wall, closing his eyes in pain, “Noah’s in the car. I’ve got to talk to you about something,”

  I grabbed an old t-shirt from my dresser and handed it to him, “Apply pressure,” I instructed. My medical expertise didn’t go much beyond a couple episodes of Gray’s Anatomy, but it seemed like the right thing to say. “Speak, would you? You’re freaking me out.”

  Another small smile appeared on his lips. Had his face not resembled a Heath Ledger version of the Joker, it would have been one of his heart melting grins.

  “I’m leaving,” he finally pronounced, “My father found out that I helped you rescue Bryce last night. The punishment involved a pair of scissors and my senior year at a private boarding school. He won’t tell me where.”

  “What do you mean you helped me?” I asked, confused. Why was Levi taking credit for my daring maneuvers?

  “I was following you,” he sighed. “When I saw that you were going to The Valencia, I called ahead and told the guys who were keeping guard of Bryce to go home.”

  “Why would you do that Levi?” I whispered, shocked by this revelation.

  “Because… I love you Chelsea. It was the least I could do. I knew you’d found the map, and I was sure you’d try to take the whole thing into your own hands. I just wanted to give you an edge. But then James got suspicious and checked with my father. When he found out that I’d double crossed him, he was livid. He locked me in a room and made me watch…” he paused and looked to be in pain, physical I was sure, but emotional too? “He made me watch you. Being trapped in that tiny room. The branding. You were so brave,” he reached out and stroked the side of my check. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Levi had put himself on the line for me? Impossible. “Chelsea, I know I have been indefensibly awful to you. I don’t know if you will ever forgive me, but I am here to beg you to wait for me. So I can earn your trust again.”

  I began shaking my head, “Levi, the way that you’ve treated me… It’s unforgivable.”

  He put his palm to his forehead, “I know. But can’t you see? I was doing it because I had to. If I hadn’t kept you in line, my father would have done something much worse. I couldn’t let that happen. I love you too much, Punky.”

  “There is no excuse,” I stammered, “Maybe your father… Maybe he might account for a fraction of what you’ve put me through. But what about the beatings, the bruises? What about the belt Levi? What about that?” I could hear my voice rising, the anger that I’d kept in such close check over the past month finally bursting through its fragile shell, “That’s not how you love somebody. Don’t you know that?”

  I could see a tiny tear dribble out of the corner of his eye, he quickly brushed it away, “You’re right,” he said, sounding regretful, “But I’ve never loved anyone before. I’ve never wanted to. I knew caring about someone else would make me weak and vulnerable. And it has, but I don’t care anymore, because being with you… Knowing you… You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. No one has ever loved me. But you do. I know you do, Chelsea.” I looked away from him as he said this, I didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. “Please, give me one more chance. I’ll be back next summer and I’ll be the best boyfriend. I’ll treat you the way you deserve. I won’t hurt you ever again. I swear.”

  “Levi,” I said, my voice dripping with frustration, “If it is so easy for you to control your anger, then why didn’t you stop yourself that night by the car? Or any of the times you’ve pulled my hair or grabbed my arm, or thrown me across the room? Do you think I’m just going to forget about all that? Do you really think I could?”

  “People can change. It happens all the time. Remember how you said once, that being bad is easy, but being virtuous takes work?” How odd, I thought, to hear Levi quoting my own paraphrasing of Conner’s insights at this defining moment in my life, “I’m ready to do the hard work. I want to be good for you.” His eyes looked so earnest, so totally sincere. The truth is, even though I knew I was being naive, I believed what he said about loving me, and even about wanting to be a better person, but about not hurting me? I wasn’t fooled, not even for a second. I knew Levi’s temper, his overwhelming need for control and domination. He was making a promise that would be impossible for him to keep.

  “No Levi,” I said, forcing myself to stay strong, “I’ll never be able to trust you.”

  “But Chelsea, don’t you love me?” he asked, his voice cracking.

  I looked into his eyes, pools of sorrow filled blue, “Yes, I love you,” I admitted, “But that’s not enough. You want me to be somebody I’m not. Someone who will do what you say without question; someone who will look the other way when you do drugs, or beat people up, or whatever else your Delancey legacy requires. But that’s not me Levi, and I am sick and tired of pretending it is. I can’t do it anymore. I won’t. ”

  He shook his head as tears began to stream down his cheeks, “When I come back, I am going to prove to you that I’ve changed. You’ll take me back, Punky, I know you will.”

  I sighed, resigned. There would be no agreement on either of our parts that night, “You’d better get out of here before you keel over,” I said as I ran my hand through his hair one last time, which still looked perfectly mussed despite everything.

  He held my face in his hands “I love you,” he said, “Please wait for me.”

  I watched Levi from my bedroom window as he climbed into Noah’s car, his arm folded tightly over his stomach, holding my old t-shirt, now soaking with blood, to his wound. He felt my eyes on him and turned to wink at me. A small, pained smile appeared on his face, just as the car pulled into the street, and then he was gone. Just. Like. That.

  As I stared out at the night, watching the first signs of dawn crawling over the hills behind my house, I thought about what kind of person Levi would be if he’d been plucked from his hospital bassinet and dropped into a loving, caring home with parents like mine. How different would he be if the Bennett’s hadn’t wrapped their ruthless and vindictive claws around him and pushed him forward like a feral child being raised by the devil himself? Would he be the Levi of my fantasies rather than the one of my nightmares?

  My eyes focused on the sun as it began peeking its expectant face over the tree speckled hills. A new day was beginning, both metaphorically and literally, and I finally forced myself to concede to the absolute truth; a truth that compromised my beliefs, my values and my sense of self. Despite everything, I was completely, hopelessly, idiotically in love with Levi Bennett. It was a sick and twisted love, but love nonetheless, and I found myself incapable of denying it.

  I couldn’t place the exact moment when I’d given my heart over to him. Maybe it was the first time my eyes had rested on his perfect face, or when his thumb had first brushed my cheek so lightly, or maybe it was that night when we’d danced under the stars. I’m not sure, but it was as if, at that moment, I had wrapped my beating heart in a ribbon and presented at his feet, “Take this,” I’d said, “My heart is yours. Beat me, bruise me, put me down, make me feel stupid and ugly, but I’m yours, all yours.”

  As quickly as Levi had descended upon my life, altering its course for ever more, he was gone. I knew as I watched the
sky turn pink under the early morning sun that I had done the right thing. Finally. I had summoned the strength and courage to look into the eyes of the person I loved and tell him that it was over. It had taken me most of the summer to do what part of me had always known was inevitable. I’d stolen back my heart, and placed it in its rightful home, where I would keep it safely guarded for the rest of my life.

  I had changed that summer. I had left behind the Chelsea Mallory that had once existed in favor of a new persona, one I didn’t fully recognize as of yet. She would be confident and logical, like the old Chelsea, of that I was certain, but the new Chelsea would have to be like a charm bracelet hanging with the precious traits I had collected from all around. From Hannah I would borrow her flirty exuberance. The eyelash batting, hair tossing glow that made everyone want to be near her. Conner would loan me his unyielding sense of morality. And although, I knew I wouldn’t always act accordingly, I would need to hold tightly to my ethics. From Levi, I would take his incredible ability to instantly access exactly what people wanted to hear, and deliver the message to them with absolute conviction. But most important, was the trait that I had inherited from Toby Fanning, something I never would have imagined him to possess. Courage. Toby had hidden that map in the picture frame. He’d withstood unimaginable torture to protect its whereabouts and thereby his family.

  I allowed a small, but fragile smile to cross my lips. And if it were a movie, this would be the part where a slightly upbeat rendition of Lenard Cohn’s Hallelujah would begin to play. But it’s not a movie. It’s just the story of the summer where I learned that love is not black or white or even some shade of gray. That life is complicated and can sometimes be almost too much to bear. That all anyone can really count on is their own ability to kick some serious ass. And Hallelujah for that.