Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Turning to one another, again, something felt different, if only because of my vulnerability now that he knew the worst.
I turned up his music on the drive over, and we chatted about nothing of consequence. He asked about Tex, before the conversation shifted back to his class.
As we headed into the library parking lot, I noticed Ms. Eiken’s car was parked outside. Even working with her, there was a surreal calm to the experience. Like with the rest of the week, I didn’t feel a need to race to the moment where we discussed my pain, but certainly there were moments when I feared it was because I never really wanted to get there. Because I wanted to pretend for a little longer that I could have told him that and it wouldn’t have changed anything.
Yet even by the subtle looks we exchanged as we shelved books, I knew nothing could ever be the same again. When Ms. Eiken headed out to pick up her kid from baseball practice, we waited to hear the front door click shut before turning to one another.
The moment I knew would come had finally arrived.
“It’s funny,” I said. “I thought there was enough time between handing you those notes and now for me to be ready for this conversation, but…”
“Kyle…”
My eyes watered. “It’s not so bad. I got Tex now.” But even as I said the words, a tear escaped my eye and traveled down my cheek. I scrambled to wipe it from my face.
“You’ve never talked to anyone about this?”
I stiffened my jaw and shook my head. “Nah, I’m good. I’m fine. I survived it. Doing just fine now.”
There was suspicion in his expression, which I was quick to call out. “You don’t get to decide how I deal with shit.”
“That wasn’t what I was doing. I’m worried about you.”
“I know. Just…being so open with someone makes me feel so on edge.”
So weak.
“Can I ask about the hospital bill?”
I quieted.
James was always so fucking perceptive. He got me in a way that kept catching me off-balance. Of course I expected him to ask, but I could have seen anyone else, even after seeing that, just assuming it went hand in hand with the shit I’d told him.
“Can I not answer?” I half joked, wanting to back out. But I’d gone too far already. There was no point in hiding anything else. “Even with things the way they were, I was always a little rebellious. Feels like it’s something in my DNA. Just didn’t take crap, even from him, which I paid for more often than not. And don’t think I didn’t imagine getting help, but I don’t… I guess I knew, no matter what I said, it wouldn’t be only his word against mine, but Mom’s too. It’s so strange, the conversations we never had, all the things I assumed…but assumed correctly.
“Usually I just went off…in my mind. In sixth grade, when we were learning about South America, my sixth-grade teacher, Ms. Neal, used to tell us stories about going to Peru. Sounded like such an adventure. And it gave me a place to go in my mind, to escape the pain…far away, in another country where he couldn’t hurt me. Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes it was a book or a movie, Narnia or Wonderland, but something about Machu Picchu being real made it feel like maybe one day I could get there, and be safe.”
What a dumb fucking thing to tell him. I felt so exposed and vulnerable. I hated myself for sharing, but it felt too damn good to stop.
“It was my thirteenth birthday,” I forced out, “and we kept birthdays within the family. I didn’t have many friends anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. I still don’t know what it was…if he was bothered because the night was all about me…or if he was pissed about something else, but I guess I was annoyed, and I said something in a tone he didn’t care for, and he lost it. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor, and then I was up and on the floor again.
“I think it was the first time I tried to fight back. Learned my lesson. And I remember lying there on the floor, and Mom telling me over and over that we were gonna say I fell down the stairs. We’d never talked about it before, she’d never asked me to lie about any of it before, so it was like suddenly, I knew she’d seen all that, knew it was wrong enough to need to lie about it, and she’d just let it happen.”
I couldn’t look James in the eyes.
“And when the nurses and doctors talked to me, I kept telling that same lie…looking at her, seeing how fucking relieved she was that I hadn’t told the fucking truth. How’s that not supposed to fuck a kid up?”