Текст книги "Naked"

Автор книги: Stacey Trombley

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Thirty-Four

I’m quiet when I walk into the kitchen, and I’m surprised when my mother isn’t there. Zara stands at the glass door, watching me, so I slide open the door to let her in. She sniffs at my feet, her little stump of a tail wagging eagerly. I pat her head absently, knowing that’s not the kind of attention she’s looking for. I’m just not able to give her anything more right now.

It feels very different here today. The house is quiet, still. Like it’s waiting. Holding its breath to see how the shit settles after hitting the fan yesterday. Zara eventually gives up with me and walks across the room to sniff her empty food bowl.

I take a step toward the hall, figuring I might as well retreat to my bedroom where at least things are the same kind of weird they’ve been for the last few weeks, but then my mother emerges from the hall looking tired.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she says.

I smile. “Hi.”

“I made some brownies earlier. Want some?”

I’m really not hungry, but for some reason I nod. Her eyes grow brighter, and I’m suddenly glad I didn’t say no.

I sit at the counter and watch as she microwaves two huge pieces and pours two glasses of milk. She sets one plate and one glass in front of me, and I take in a deep breath and watch as she takes a small dainty bite of her brownie with a fork.

She looks up at me. “Are you all right? Everything okay with Sarah?”

I nod, not because things are actually okay—nothing is okay right now—but because there’s nothing she can do, and I just don’t want to talk about it.

“Is it about your father?” she asks me.

This time I look up and shrug.

“I keep running it through my mind,” she tells me, dropping her fork onto her barely touched plate. “What happened. Why. What I could have done better. Did I make the right choice? I don’t know if I made the right choice, having him arrested.” She’s talking so fast, her bottom lip trembling. I’m not even sure she’s talking to me anymore. She’s just talking. Thinking out loud.

It’s the first time she’s ever opened up to me like this.

“You did the right thing,” I say.

She looks up, blinking back tears. “He had his accountant bail him out of jail. Now he’s at a hotel.”

I pause, knowing she’s scared. Scared of not being the perfect trophy wife anymore, and I have no idea what to say to make it better.

“I’m glad he’s not here.”

She blinks, her face blank. “Me, too.” Then her shoulders relax, like a weight was lifted from her. She smiles, her eyes still filled with tears.

So she wasn’t afraid of losing her marriage or image…she was afraid of admitting she’s glad about it.

We quietly finish our snack, not knowing what else to say.

Finally, I stand. “I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Okay, be careful,” she says, barely looking up from the sink as she scrubs her few dishes absently.

I walk out into the brisk autumn air. Fallen leaves float past, and I try to clear my mind as I make my way down the street. I need to think about something good. Something that’s not royally screwed up.

My feet move on their own, and I try not to think about where I’m going or why. Not until I’m standing in front of Jackson’s door. And then I realize how stupid this is. I have absolutely no clue what I could possibly say to him now.

I just know that I need to say…something. Anything. I need to hear his voice.

My breathing quickens as I fight with myself. Knock on the door and face my worst fear and greatest hope—or walk away a coward. My stomach clenches, a sour feeling filling every vein.

I knock on the door and it swings open in just a few seconds. I swear, if it had taken any longer, I’d have turned and run. I look up at the tall, muscular figure that is Jackson’s father and press a hand to my stomach, willing myself not to throw up on his doorstep. I keep my eyes steady and watch his face for signs of hatred, disgust. But Jackson’s father’s eyes are full of concern, sympathy.

“Looking for Jackson?” he asks nicely when I don’t speak.

I manage a nod.

He smiles and turns away. “Jackson! You have a visitor.” He turns back. “It’s nice to see you again, Anna.”

I blink, unsure of what to make of such kindness. Is he just being polite? He can’t possibly be okay with his son hanging around with a hooker, can he? Especially after the danger I put him in?

After a few seconds, Jackson jogs down the steps and freezes when he sees me. For one second, all my fear, all my shame, is washed away. Whatever happens now, it was all worth it for the few weeks I spent with Jackson. To have someone like him on my side.

But then I notice the look on his face. He’s not the same lighthearted boy I remember. His face is heavy, darker, somehow.

My heart stops.

There’s a blue mark across his eyebrow and a scab forming over his lip, and as much as I hate seeing him hurt, that’s not what stabs me in the gut.

That look, the look that I loved from the very first time I met him, the look that made me feel brand-new—it’s gone. Replaced by something dark, and I can’t tell what it is, but I’m afraid it’s the emotion I’ve been dreading all along.

Disgust.

Oh God.

I knew Jackson would be mad at me. I knew things would never really be the same. But I wasn’t prepared for this. Seeing it. Seeing him change. The boy in front of me isn’t the same boy with the Weedwacker. This is a boy who’s been ruined.

I ruined him.

Shit. What do I say to him?

He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t make it easy on me the way he usually does, always knowing exactly what to say.

“I…I just wanted to see you…”

He steps forward. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice lighter than I would have expected.

I shrug and take a step back. “I guess….” I pause and look up at him again. This time all I see is confusion on his face. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For homecoming. For the janitor. For not being who you wanted me to be.”

Tears fill my eyes, and my voice cracks. His voice is light as he speaks, not harsh like I’d expected. Not angry like he should be.

“You don’t get it, Anna. Those aren’t things you should be sorry for. You couldn’t help them. I’m not mad at you for having to save you from some dirtbag.”

I shift on my feet, not understanding what he means.

“I’m angry because you lied to me.” His voice is harder now. “You looked me in the eyes and told me lie after lie.”

My blood turns ice cold, rushing through every inch of me. He’s right. My crimes are a whole lot more than just what I did in the past, or even putting him in danger the way I did…

I lied to him. Even when I knew that was the one thing that would really hurt him.

“Do you have any idea how stupid I feel? I stood up for you, over and over. I believed you. I told you everything. I trusted you with everything. And you…you…” He shakes his head.

I swallow and look down at the ground. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, then turn and sprint down the street, away from him. Away from the hope he gave me. I can’t hear anymore, not right now. I can’t face this. I’m not strong enough.

I rush all the way back to my house, but instead of going back inside, I hop the fence and walk through the backyard. I run my hand along the prickly wooden fence that once separated me from the innocent suburban boy who believed I was normal.

Like my mother said, I don’t know if I chose right. Back then he gave me hope. A hope I desperately needed. But it was false. Always just pretend.

Because what if I hadn’t lied to him? Would he have even taken a second look at me? Would I even have those amazing memories to hold on to if I had told him who I was right up front?

Could Jackson Griffin have ever loved a hooker?

Chapter Thirty-Five

The next morning, I decide it’s time to go back to school. I can’t keep running. I’ve got to face the truth. Face the hate.

Sarah stays in town overnight, and my mom’s fine with her driving me to school the next day.

I’m scared of seeing Jackson again. The way he looked at me yesterday… What if he never forgives me?

If I thought the rumors and looks and whispers were bad before, they were nothing compared to this. It always felt like every set of eyes turned toward me before, that the world stopped. But it was just a feeling.

Now it actually does.

They all stop, literally, and watch me pass through the hallway. Even the teachers look at me with worried expressions.

News is out. I’m the town whore. Maybe I should take a bow.

Every class is torture. I can’t even focus on learning, because all I can hear are the rumors.

“That’s the whore. Yeah, I’m not even kidding, she really was.”

It makes me want to scream out, tell them it’s true and to grow up and get their own lives. Maybe I should make an announcement.

Hello, everyone. It’s me, Anna. You know, the whore? Yeah, it’s true. Get over it now, please? I’d love to move on now, thanks…

Then lunch comes. I consider skipping it altogether, but somehow over the last few days, my appetite has come back. I get my lunch and find a table toward the back that’s mostly empty.

But then a tray clinks down in front of me and I look up to see Alex.

“Mind?” she asks.

I smile back. It’s small and sad, but it’s real. So I guess that’s pretty good.

It’s quiet for a moment, awkward. I wish she’d ask me something ridiculous, like which was better on a soft pretzel, mustard or cheese? She doesn’t. Instead she looks right to the elephant in the room. “So. Homecoming.”

I blink and watch as she shoves a huge piece of cookie into her mouth.

“Yeah. That was fun, huh?”

She looks around for a second, checking out all the eyes watching us.

“I did want to ask, how did everything go, you know, with Brandon?”

Her eyes grow wide. “That part actually was awesome. First Mr. Shelf slammed him into a locker when he tried to hit Marissa after she told him what we’d done. He flipped out, royally. We found out later that his dad flew home early from his business trip and yanked Brandon out of school. Word is his parents are sending him to military school. Good-bye football scholarship. Good-bye dreams of fame and sports stardom.”

“Military school?” I think of the janitor. I think of Luis. I think of my father. “They didn’t arrest him?”

Alex shakes her head, and now a flash of anger crosses her face. “No. They should. But at least he didn’t totally get away with it.”

“Well, that’s good, I guess. Too bad I had to go and ruin our celebration, huh?”

“You ruined it? By what, just being you?”

I shrug. “Yeah, kinda.”

“You’re the only reason it happened in the first place. Marissa would still be pinned under that dick if you hadn’t put it all together. You’re a hell of a lot stronger than you think, Anna.”

I take a deep breath. “I don’t feel very strong.”

Alex nudges my shoe with hers and smiles. “Life’s job is to sit around and wait for the best opportunity to kick us in the balls. Our job is to get up and kick back. You helped Marissa do that. Now it’s your turn.”

My lips actually curl into an almost kind of smile. Life advice from Alex is much better than I expected.

Jen walks up and sits next to me without a word. I was her friend when no one else was; guess she’s returning the favor. It does feel good to not be so alone. But the stares, the whispers, still close in on me.

“Besides, the only people who care about that shit don’t matter,” Alex says, winking at Jen.

I look to the empty seat at my right.

“He’ll come around,” Jen says.

My stomach twists. No one else speaks for a while. We munch on our food and listen to voices ringing around us. I don’t hear anyone talking about me right now—there are too many voices for that—but I’m sure they are.

The question is, how in the world am I supposed to stand up for myself like Alex said? The janitor’s gone, but the real enemy, the one that’s haunted me every step of the way, still lives inside me. And it always will until I find the courage to face my fear.

I jump when a third tray clinks down. I look up to see Jackson. I smile at him, but he doesn’t smile back. He just looks at me, like he’s still trying to make sense of our conversation yesterday. Of all of this.

Well, that makes two of us.

A passing senior coughs out “whore” as he passes us, and I freeze. Seriously? We’re back to that?

Jackson’s out of his seat and about to go after the guy, but I take his arm, and my touch seems to shock him out of it. He still looks pissed, though.

“He can’t talk to you like that,” he says without looking at me.

I shrug. “He’s just telling the truth.”

Jackson glances at the rest of the group, not like he’s looking to them for backup, more like he’s making sure he has everyone’s attention. Then he looks back at me.

“You’re not a whore,” he says. “I don’t care what the janitor said.”

He doesn’t get it. But it’s nice of him to stick up for me.

“Let him go,” I say. “People can say whatever they want.”

Jackson sits back down, and everyone at the table falls back into that thick silence.

“So are we going to ignore this the rest of our lives?” Alex says just before shoving a piece of a Fudge Round into her face. “I mean, that’s okay if we are. I just want to be clear.”

I actually smirk. Leave it to Alex to be the blunt one.

“Ask, if you want to know,” I say in a flat voice.

Jackson meets my eyes. He knows some of the truth. But he doesn’t know it all.

“The prostitute thing,” Alex says. “You did really do it, right? ’Cause we heard the guy that attacked you, and it—” She stops, like she ran out of words or something.

I nod, but then I shrug. “It’s complicated.”

Jackson wants the truth, right? I guess it’s time he got a bigger piece. That they all got a bigger piece. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that eventually the truth will come out. Hiding it just delays the inevitable.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Alex says. “Isn’t it just sex? What’s wrong with you making a little money?”

“It’s not just sex,” I say.

An odd look crosses both of their faces. Jackson is still as stone. Did they expect me to defend it? Maybe. It’s not like I’ve been afraid to call myself a whore. I guess they thought I was proud or something.

When they say nothing, I continue.

“When you’re a prostitute, it’s not like you get to choose who you do it with. Imagine being forced to do it”—I rack my brain for the most disgusting person in school—“with Mr. Pickering,” I say. He’s an old, fat math teacher I’ve seen walking the halls. “Then Mr. Schueller.” Our science teacher. “Then Mrs. Timmins.” Our creepy gym teacher. “All in one night.”

“Ew.”

“Sex isn’t simple. Not when you’re a prostitute,” I say, no longer looking at them. I stare out into the sea of teenage heads around me. “Even if you did it with just attractive men, you lose everything you are. You have no choices, and everyone sees you as sex, nothing more.”

Apparently I’m on a roll. The words just fall out of my mouth, things I didn’t even know I was thinking. They all stare like I’ve just grown another head and they want to study it.

“You become nothing. Because that’s the thing about sex—it’s part of you. Giving it away for the wrong reasons, against your will…it changes you. Not always for the better. Every time you do that, you lose a part of yourself until…you have nothing left.”

No one speaks, and I look down at my hands. They’re shaking, just a little.

“I have nothing left,” I whisper.

They still don’t speak. Jackson looks at me, but I can’t read him anymore. I can’t tell if he’s furious at finding out the whole truth. I can’t tell if he pities me. I can’t tell if he hates me.

I take a bite of my gooey mac and cheese and then take a sip of juice.

“Then why would you do it?” Jen asks quietly.

Jen. After what Brandon did to her, she’s probably the one who knows what I went through. But it’s hard to tell how much she understands when I barely get it myself, and I’m the one who lived it.

How do I explain that I didn’t choose it? That I didn’t know how to say no? That I did it for Luis when I won’t talk about him?

Does Luis even understand what he did to me?

I open my mouth to speak, but I don’t know what else to say. And honestly, do I want to stick around and see them realize they shouldn’t be friends with me? They will. Now that they have a taste of who I really am.

“I have to go,” I blurt out, and then I walk out alone. I go outside to the picnic area, and thankfully since it’s about thirty degrees, no one else is out here.

“Hey.”

I whip around to see Jackson, his arms crossed.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Not really, no. How about you?”

He shrugs. “Not really.”

He takes a step forward, then seems to understand that I’m about to say something and need a minute to get up the nerve.

Finally, I ask, “Do you hate me?”

He sits down next to me. “Of course I don’t hate you.”

“Even after I lied to you? Ever after you heard the kind of things I did?”

He joins me, shivering, but sits there with me. “I wish you’d told me the truth. Wish you’d trusted me with it.”

I shake my head. “I couldn’t, Jackson. I was so scared. How could I tell someone like you all the horrible things I’ve done?”

“Someone like me?”

“So good. You’re too good for me.”

He laughs. “That’s definitely not true.”

“If I told you that I was a prostitute…you would have run away from me.”

“Don’t think that. I mean, sure, it’s crazy to even consider, but…I would have still been your friend. Or whatever we are.”

“But I lied to you. And after everything you said about your mom…” I look down at the wooden table, handwritten notes scrawled all over it.

“Anna, I hate myself because I never got the chance to help my mom. She wouldn’t let me. And I hate that you wouldn’t let me help you. But I would never hate her no matter how many lies she told…and I will never hate you.” He straightens his shoulders. “I’m just glad I followed you outside at the dance. If I hadn’t…I don’t want to think what he would have done to you.”

After a moment, I ask, “You don’t think I deserved it?”

“Are you serious?” I don’t move, don’t look. He puts his hand on mine. “Anna.” When I look up, he’s waiting for me to meet his eyes, so intense he actually looks angry. “No one deserves that.”

Strangely enough, I believe him. Maybe that makes me stupid, or naive, but maybe that’s okay for once. He chose to believe in me. Maybe now I need to believe in him.

“Telling the truth is harder than it sounds,” I say, and I hope it doesn’t sound like an excuse. I know I was wrong but I’m just not sure what I could have done any differently.

“I wanted to sleep with her,” he says.

“Liz?”

He nods. “I just wasn’t ready. And I guess I didn’t mean enough to her to wait until I was ready, too.”

I put my hand in his, intertwining my fingers in his gently. I’ve always wondered what really happened. The full story. But he held it back until now. I don’t know what I did to deserve his trust, but maybe that’s not the point. Maybe we can trust each other because we choose to be worthy of each other right now. One step at a time.

“If I tell you the truth now, will you hate me? Do you even want to hear it?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll never hate you. And I won’t lie, I’m scared. But yeah, I want to hear it, because otherwise, I’ll always wonder. I’ll never understand unless you tell me, and neither will they.” He points into the lunchroom, where—I have to laugh seeing their faces up against the window—Alex, Jen, and Marissa are looking out at us.

The bell rings, but Jackson doesn’t move, and neither do I.

“They want me to testify,” I whisper.

He takes a deep breath. “Against that man?”

“No. I mean, yes.” Here it comes. The big one. “But someone else, too.”

“Who?”

“A man I lived with… He was my boyfriend.” I swallow. “He was my pimp.” The word feels so disgusting coming from my mouth. I hate it. I hate myself.

But I don’t see hate in Jackson’s expression, and there’s some comfort in knowing that as much as the lies hurt him—maybe because they hurt him—he’s ready for the truth, whatever it is.

He squeezes my hand. “And you don’t want to testify against him?”

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s complicated. He helped me. I know he hurt me, but if not for him, I’d probably have been dead. How can I do that to him?”

Jackson winces, but he’s calm. “You wouldn’t be doing anything to him. That’s not how court cases work.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’ll decide if he broke the law. They’ll decide if he’s supposed to go to jail. Not you. All they want is for you to tell the truth. I know it’s scary, but it’ll hang over your head forever if you don’t.”

“But won’t it hang over my head forever if I do?”

He shakes his head slowly. “The truth is the only thing that sets you free. There are repercussions, sure, but you won’t be trapped anymore. You’ll be free.”

I blink. Freedom. That’s what I’ve always wanted. But will testifying against Luis really free me? I think about what it would be like to see him again. To face him.

I’m scared. Terrified. But I realize it’s something I have to do. I’ll never get the closure I need without it. I’ll never be free of Luis.

After we head back into school, I tell Jackson I’ll talk to him later. Then I pull out my phone and dial Sarah’s number.

“Anna?”

She must hear me breathing, because she waits for me to speak.

“I’ll speak…at Luis’s trial.”

“Oh, Anna. That’s terrific. But I want you to know, if you’re not comfortable with this, you don’t have to. We’ll figure something else out.”

“But I want to.”

“What?” It’s the first time I’ve heard her sound this surprised. She’s always so…calm.

“I want people to hear my story. I need to face them. To face him.”

Jackson’s right. Testifying doesn’t have to mean condemning Luis. I’m just there to tell the truth.