TWELVE MINUTES

by Kathryn Hewitt

  Starting to feel even more awkward than I had with the ‘sex’ comment, I grabbed my glass of water and took a long sip. At least I could focus on the cool liquid instead of wondering what was going through Harrison’s head.

  “My mom said that your ‘episodes’ could be the result of trauma…she said you mentioned something about triggers.” Ok, and here I thought that he was trying to come up with a way to let me down easily. I just nodded because what else could I do? It was true, wasn’t it? “So that, coupled with your comment about being a survivor, sort of leads me to a general conclusion. I won’t make you spell things out for me Cass, I’ve never asked you to tell me things that you didn’t feel comfortable with. Your story is yours, I just want you to know that if you ever wanted to share it, you could.”

  My eyes betrayed me by growing moist. It was the sweetest thing that Harrison could have said, and I hadn’t experienced much sweetness in a long time. I didn’t think that I was ready to tell him about that part of me, because it was part of me, and truthfully, I didn’t know if I’d ever want to. But his leaving things open, accepting me for me and what I could give him, was so meaningful that it almost hurt.

  I tried not to think too much of my attacker and what he’d stolen from me, these days. It was a black hole that was hard to climb out of, and dwelling on it no longer contributed to my healing process. But in that moment, I thought about how much power he’d had over me all of these years, and realized that I didn’t want him to have it anymore. There was good in the world, I was seeing…and I refused to allow him to rob me of that, too.

  “You’re a good man, Harrison,” I said quietly, and he just smiled sadly at me. Doing what I wanted to do and not allowing myself to question it, I got off of my bed and walked slowly over to where he was sitting on the couch. Deliberately sitting down next to him, Harrison didn’t say anything, just watched as I sat and gently lay my head down on his shoulder. I needed to do this, I needed to do it for me. Closing my eyes, I just breathed, inhaling Harrison’s scent and the comfort that he embodied.

  We sat like that, me with my eyes closed and resting my head on Harrison, him not moving other than to shift slightly so that I was in a little more comfortable of a position. Finally wanting more, I shifted my right cheek to his chest, right over his heart, and slid my left arm around his waist. Harrison’s arm came around my back and curved over my shoulder, and we just let each other hold one another. This couldn’t be stolen from me I thought, as I listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart, as I felt the steady and reassuring flow of his breathing.

  ✧✧✧

  When my right arm had started aching, I finally had to sit up. I had been so comfortable, probably more comfortable than I’d been since it had happened, that I hadn’t wanted to move. But if my arm was uncomfortable, I could only imagine how Harrison was feeling, pinned to the couch and barely moving a muscle except for his constant pressure, as he held me both delicately and securely.

  Watching Harrison while he stretched, wanting to smile at his attempt at not being obvious about his undoubtedly permanent-feeling full-body cramp, I squeezed my lips together, wanting to say so much but not knowing at all what to say.

  “I told you that I forget what to say when you look at me with those eyes,” he said, when it was apparent that neither of us was going to speak. I smiled softly, not sure what was going on, but knowing that it felt ok. It felt right.

  “Would you prefer it if I stopped looking at you?” I asked, making light of his comment.

  “Please don’t,” was all he said, and my joke apparently fell flat. “Cass, I’m…scared to tell you what I’m thinking. I don’t want you feel like I’m expecting something from you, that maybe you’re not able to give me.” He sounded sad, like my issues were all that mattered and if it meant him showing up every day and simply sitting across the room from me, he was prepared to do just that. But that wasn’t fair to him at all. I thought that I understood what he was telling me, that perhaps our friendship may have taken on a whole new meaning, or at least a greater intensity, but I was out of my depths and I still didn’t know if it made a difference in the greater scheme of things.

  “You can always tell me anything, Harrison. I just can’t guarantee that it will be reciprocated,” I said, and Harrison tried to hide his disappointment, looking away briefly before meeting my eye again. Realizing what he’d thought I’d meant, I quickly added, “Just meaning, I can’t promise that I can tell you everything that I want to, everything that you might want to know.” He nodded, like he wanted to understand, like he was trying desperately to understand, and it hurt my heart. “I just don’t know how to do this. I don’t know if I can do this. I’ve spent a long time feeling that I would never be able to. But the problem is that now I want to do this, and I’m lost.” I hoped that my vague words would be enough to at least let him know that I was trying, that I was dealing with a whole lot of unknowns, but that I thought that he was worth it.

  “You’re the most mystifying person, but the simplest to know.” Well, that was hard to interpret. “And beautiful, Cass, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. But I see that now only second to who you are…who you are on the inside. There is so much about you that seems impossible to understand, but you’re probably the most honest and truest person that I’ve ever met. And I’ve never wanted the work involved with relationships, but with you, it all just seems easy.” Harrison closed his eyes, like this was as hard for him as it was for me. All I wanted to do was help to ease his burden. And that could only be possible, if I were as open as he was trying to be.

  Getting up from the couch and crossing the room, I climbed up onto my bed. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I knew that I needed to do something to help us both. And that it couldn’t be done, if I were looking up and into his open and candid face when I did it.

  “Harrison,” I closed my eyes and inhaled, exhaling slowly. “A few years ago, I was attacked. I was running in the park, and I was essentially abducted and taken to a secluded area. My face was…” Your pretty face… I swallowed, forcing down the feelings and focusing on my truth. “I was pretty badly injured. In truth, I was brutally beaten as I fought off my attacker…but I was unsuccessful.” Harrison sucked in a breath, but I still hadn’t opened my eyes. “Actually, I was successful. I lost a lot that day, but I came out of it with my life, which was apparently a triumph.” I was shaking, but I still couldn’t get my eyes to open, as I saw the fountain, felt the first blow, smelled the cinnamon.

  “You survived. You’re not a victim, you’re a survivor.” Harrison said quietly, almost as if he were speaking to both himself and to me.

  “I’m a survivor of more things than I can speak of, but yes. I won.” I opened my eyes and saw that Harrison had stood from where he’d been sitting, looking at me with such a heartbreaking mixture of agony and pride that it shattered something inside of me.

  In that moment, I realized what Rachel and Diane had been working so hard to convince me of, what up until this point I had wanted to believe, but hadn’t been able to. This was the exact second that my bargain became validated, that what I’d exchanged felt reconciled within me. It was much closer to a draw than a blowout, but it was still a win. And I was able to be here today, wishing that I could comfort a boy, a boy with dark messy hair and pained dark eyes, and all that he needed was me…as I was.

  “I’ve never been more thankful for anything in my life,” Harrison said, his eyes glassy with too many emotions than were fair to be subjected to. I’d told him my truth, as best as I could, and he was still here. In fact, he’d taken several steps toward me, looking at me no differently than he’d looked at me ten minutes before. It was like he saw some version of Cass that even I didn’t know that I could be, and for Harrison, I wanted to be her. For me, I wanted to be her.

  I was her, I realized, and I almost sobbed.

  Instead, I reached out my hand to him, feeling on more solid ground than I had in what
felt like forever when Harrison’s hand grasped mine, and I allowed him to pull me to him and into his embrace. Wrapping my arms around him, lifting my face to his, I let him rest his cheek against mine, feeling like for once, I was where I was supposed to be. Harrison held me, close but not too tightly, as our hearts seemed to beat together.

  The Purple me.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  I wasn’t sure where to go from here, now that it seemed like perhaps everyone had been right, and maybe Harrison and I weren’t just friends. But I still maintained that we were first and foremost friends, so that helped to validate my proclamation. At least to myself; I already knew that I was going to get a lot of pointed looks and questionable comments when the alteration of our relationship came out.

  Mostly from Kara, which really ticked me off in an immature little sister kind of way. It didn’t help that she’d ‘I told you so’d’ me my whole life, and I’d just handed her another opportunity to do so. But, at the same time, it kind of felt like things were falling back into place for me, sibling dynamics and all.

  Except that before I could casually drop my info into a conversation, I was once again delivered a blow.

  “So I guess that he wasn’t too pleased to be served with your Order, honey,” Diane said on the phone, for once her tone not quite so abrasive. “Cal said that he notified Charlie himself, just to simplify things and I think as a way to get into my good graces…” Yeah, because that was all that Cal the cop friend wanted to get into of yours, Diane, I thought, but I couldn’t even appreciate my private humor because I was now wondering what she meant and what it meant for me…and Charlie.

  “Anyway, Cal didn’t get the impression that Charlie was going to abide by it. Essentially, Cal said that Charlie did the whole ‘usual show’ of shock, indignation, attempting to justify himself…but that he never once said anything that would indicate he quite understood what was being demanded of him. Apparently Charlie spent way too long discussing the merits of the Order, undermining the justifications, and no time acknowledging that he’d be following it. And I guess, Cass, normal people just accept these kinds of things, whether they believe that they should be on the receiving end of them or not. And actually, especially when they don’t believe that they should be, it’s usually enough to make them more than happy to cooperate, because they want less to do with someone who would fabricate something like this, than the person wants nothing to do with them.”

  I had been silent during this explanation, fearful of what Diane’s point was, or what her cop friend Cal’s takeaway was forcing me to understand. I had just accomplished trying to expose myself to someone, I had decided that Harrison was worth feeling vulnerable for, and here Charlie was, dragging me back down. I was just so exhausted; I was tired of never feeling relaxed, never feeling like I could just try to live my life.

  “So he’s not going away.” Even I heard how defeated I sounded.

  “That’s not necessarily the case, Cass. But I’m telling you this so that you don’t feel like it’s all wrapped up and done with. Charlie may very well attempt again to make his presence known in your life, or worse, have decided in his nutso head to disprove the idea that you don’t want him. He seems unstable, or at least unpredictable, and Cal said that sometimes when that’s the case, the perpetrator actually ups his game instead of backing off.” At a later date, Diane and I were going to have a talk about just how well she knew this Cal, because she sure spoke of him with familiarity. But for the time being, I didn’t have a whole lot of excess energy to focus on Diane’s love life; I’d already tapped into my reserves for my own.

  Love life. The words both thrilled and terrified me.

  “So, what? I just sit back and wait for him to profess his devotion to me? Diane, the last time Charlie did that, I lost so much progress.” Diane was silent. “I’m scared,” I whispered, those painful words being so much easier to admit without Diane’s warm eyes looking into my soul.

  “I know, Cass. But that’s almost a good thing. It would be foolish not to take this seriously. At least you’re not approaching this blindly. You’ve seen what the world can serve you, you know not to assume that everything will always be safe and easy. It’s unfortunate that you had to learn this lesson the hard way, but at least you now have a lot of tools at your disposal, and a perspective to help you to be as prepared as possible. And now it’s an official record; if you see him, you can call the police. Should he resurface, he will be breaking the law. Not that it’s all that much comfort, but sometimes the threat of a record can make people do an about-face. It seems like the only thing that Charlie might value more than you, is his precious reputation. He’s got an ego, for sure, and getting arrested at this point in his life, right as his academic career is about to pay off, might just be the deterrent needed.”

  I appreciated what she was saying, and I knew that she was being more positive than usual for my sake, but that kind of only worried me more. For Diane to be going out of her way to shore me up only meant one thing: Diane believed that we were not done with Charlie. Thanking her, but needing some time to process this, I hung up and flung myself down on my bed.

  I felt like I was on an emotional rollercoaster. I had felt such a weight lifted when I'd allowed myself to let Harrison in, when I’d permitted him to pierce my barrier and begin to know the real me. And I’d felt like maybe he was experiencing the same thing. Harrison Zane, always on the go, always moving on from things and never focusing too hard on anything that wasn’t of use to him, was serious about me. And I liked it. I liked feeling important to someone, like I mattered, like maybe I wasn’t so alone in making sure that I was going to be ok. I knew that I could never let go of my internal drive to ensure that I was taking care of myself, but maybe it was ok to let someone else have a vested interest in that as well.

  Because I did. I wanted Harrison to be happy, I wanted him to think that the mess that was Cass was one that he didn’t mind, that he could accept me for all that I was. And the best part was that I knew, regardless of whether he decided that he couldn’t, I would survive.

  ✧✧✧

  I’d been mulling this whole Restraining Order/Charlie thing over for about an hour when my phone rang. Checking it, I instantly smiled.

  “Feel like burgers? I can get them and bring them by in like 20.”

  “Hi,” I said, trying not to laugh. “And of course.”

  “I’ll get extra fries. Be there soon, Cassie Cass.” He'd hung up before I could even say bye, and it just made me smile more.

  Harrison arrived in his usual manner of ease, taking our food straight to the kitchen as I followed him and got us plates. Smiling as I watched him unpack the burgers, setting the fries closer to my seat because apparently, he’d figured out that I probably should have said French Fries when we were playing our desserted island game, he finally looked up at me.

  “What? Did you want a milkshake or something?” He looked like he was already regretting that he hadn’t just magically known that I’d want one, and I had to laugh.

  “Nothing. I’m happy to see you,” I said, and was rewarded with the smile that had drawn me to him.

  “Cool. I’m always happy to see you,” he said, deciding that the imaginary milkshake crisis was averted, and sitting down to eat. Joining him, I started shoving fries into my mouth as Harrison just laughed. “Glad I got extra,” he said, as he produced another carton from the bag. Harrison was willing to share, but he had the appetite of a horse.

  As we were finishing up, Harrison was ending a story about how Ben had insisted on spending the day before entirely naked, claiming that he was a nudist who was inhibited by the social construct of clothes, despite both Miranda and Harrison pleading with him to at least put on some underwear if he was going to sit on the couch. But today, Ben had decided that he needed his privacy respected, and locked his door whenever he was changing.

  “This from a guy who had announced that clothes were stifling his inner creative spirit,”
Harrison said, shaking his head but laughing all the while.

  I was laughing with him, marveling at the tiny beast, as my mom walked into the kitchen. She stopped, like she was surprised to see us, but then smoothed her face and smiled at Harrison.

  “Oh. I thought it was Kara and James in here…I heard the laughter and just assumed. I’m Cass’ mother, you must be…?” Oh my god, what was my mom’s problem? She’d totally met Harrison before, and she obviously knew that he was Harrison, as in, the only person I ever brought to our house.

  “Harrison. Nice to see you, Mrs. Warren.” Harrison was polite enough to not point out that they’d done this already, but wasn’t willing to actually play along so much as to refer to their exchange as a ‘meeting.’

  “Right, of course. Sorry, I was so frazzled that it wasn’t Kara in here, I just lost my focus. Cass? How are you doing today, honey?” This was such a bizarre exchange, but I appreciated her attempt at normalcy. Apparently walking in on me laughing was enough to leave my mom completely thrown.

  “Fine, Mom. Harrison brought me a burger,” I said, although that part was obvious. But it had been a nice thing of him to do, so I still felt like pointing it out.

  “How nice of him…of you, Harrison. Ok, Cass, I’m off…I’ll see you tonight.” My mom gave us both a little wave and left the kitchen, presumably off to work.

  “Your mom seems nice. She’s more formal than mine, but nice…”

  “Yeah. Well, she’s still trying her hardest to make sure that I’m ok, but sometimes she misses the mark,” I said, surprised at my candidness. But, if we were going to do this, I guess it was going to be little by little. Taking Harrison’s empty plate to the sink, along with mine, I figured that I’d have plenty of time to wash them later. Grabbing his hand, I gave a slight tug and led him back into the living room. Pulling him to the couch, I kicked off my shoes and crossed my legs, getting comfortable.