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At least, I keep telling myself that.
It’s my denial. Somehow, I keep thinking she’ll go away.
“Bizzy, you ready to order?” Shaw interrupts my thoughts and moves his eyes to the side where the waiter is looking at me quizzically.
“Yes, Salmon Caesar please.”
He gets Shaw’s order and hurries away, leaving me with a sullen Shaw.
We’ve spent so much time this last week discussing my feelings and worries that I’m sick of it. I’ve only been out of his sight for the hours I spend at work, except for my little romp to my parents, which set him even further on edge. He insists on driving me to work and home for each of my shifts. When I’m in bed, he’s with me, holding me close, whispering his apologies. When I eat, shower, or run errands, he’s right there. Always by my side.
There’s a certain level of intimacy I’m craving, but I can’t bring myself to go there. The few times I’ve tried to initiate sex, my own brain starts buzzing with the situation and it’s like ice water to my mood. He’s been understanding, but I know he’s hurting, too. For some reason, I can’t put a lid on my own emotions enough to handle his.
Each time I bring up the future with Sasha, he easily shuts me down, avoiding the subject and saying he’s dealing with it. But I know he’s curious about our history, only hearing bits and pieces from Nicky. In his own way, he’s asked me about what happened, but never pushed me to talk. The curiosity is killing him, but he doesn’t want to cause me anymore pain by making me relive the past.
A part of me feels guilty because he’s so worried about me, when it’s me who should be worried about him.
I reach for my wine and drain the glass in one gulp, his eyes growing wide. There is no warning; I start talking.
“We’ll start with the early years. You know Sasha made my life hell the minute her dipshit ex-boyfriend asked me to homecoming when I was a freshman and she was a junior. Regardless of my answer, she got a huge stick up her ass and decided I was worth her time to torture. I missed a lot of school with my treatments, but she didn’t forget. When I went back to school, bald, bruised, and swollen from steroids, she loved it. I was the roly-poly.
“When we returned to school after summer break, I hoped she was over it. No such luck. By this time, I was in remission, and my body was recovering. I had hair, almost to my shoulders, and the weight had shifted. Now, I was curvy. Hormones hit and I had boobs, legs, and curves that brought a lot of attention. The first thing that happened was an ‘accident’ in Pottery Class. I found myself with a huge chunk of clay in my hair that wouldn’t come out. I had to cut my hair into a boy cut to remove it all. I was devastated, but no one would actually admit she threw it at me, saying it flew out of her hands while sculpting a vase. Even the teacher seemed to believe her.”
I wave at the waiter, pointing to my empty glass, and he bustles over to refill my wine. I swallow a large mouthful and continue.
“The rest of the year was filled with much of the same stupid shit that never landed her in trouble. I tried to talk to her once, make amends, which was dumb because it gave her ammunition. Most of the time, I ign
ored it because Nicky started going everywhere with me—even to the girl’s bathroom, watching the door when I was inside.
After the cancer, when Nicky finally made the Varsity team, he asked me to walk with him for the pep rally. It was homecoming once again, so I was excited. My mom bought me a white dress, and I changed into it before our last class, hoping it would be pretty for the pictures. My parents were there, your parents, and even Mathis was home from college. I was ecstatic. But I let my guard down, and the instant I sat at my desk, I knew my mistake. Red goo squirted everywhere, effectively covering me in splatter and leaving a huge red stain on my ass, legs, and back. My dress was ruined, and I was escorted to the office, unable to attend the pep rally. Nicky had to walk with a cheerleader. I think you were in first year law and couldn’t come.”
“I was,” he confirms, acid dripping from his words.
I swallow the rest of my wine and motion for more, needing the liquid courage.
“That time, she was caught. Someone saw her take a bag of pig’s blood from the AP Science lab that was used for platelet microscopy. She covered me in fucking pig’s blood. At this point, my parents got involved. Things seemed to calm down because she was threatened with expulsion. Of course, she denied everything. So she laid low for months. But once senior grades were posted, she got her piece of revenge.
“I was scheduled to take the Advanced Placement and Dual Enrollment exams, which would put me in the classes to help me start gaining college credits. My parents and I needed that help with my college expenses. Nicky was convinced he’d stay in Florida, but even if he didn’t, I would still be able to use the credits toward almost any school. The day of the exam, the proctor gave everyone their tests and we started. Not even thirty minutes later, he got a call and demanded we all put our pencils down. He came straight to me and asked me to follow him to the office. As we walked out, the principal came in. An hour later, my parents and I sat in a meeting as he explained there was a detailed cheat sheet under my desk. I was never allowed in the program.”
“Fuck,” he spits out, draining his own glass.
“The next two years, she wasn’t around, but I was always fighting the stigma of the cheater. The only guys who ever asked me out were the ones who heard I was easy from Sasha or her crowd of friends. She left me with the reputation of a cheater and a whore.”
Against my better judgment, I finish my third glass of wine and feel it burning in my empty stomach. But I push on, wanting him to know.
“Freshman year of college, I was blackballed from every sorority by the third round. By this time, Nicky was on the warpath. He had enough. He was the football superstar, the campus hotshot, the most sought after guy for all the girls. He made me go out with him and the other players, watching over me with the eye of a big brother. I finally gained some confidence and started acting like a college freshman. The first time I got drunk, I puked for days, but instead of wanting to die, I wanted to keep going. Finally, I felt normal.”
“We’re leaving, NOW!” Shaw motions to the waiter.
In a whirlwind, bags are brought with our food packaged inside, the tab is paid, and I’m being yanked out of my chair to the exit. Shaw doesn’t let go of me, holding me so close I feel the raging anger brewing. He gives the driver instructions to my house in a clipped tone, and I finally find my voice, ready to purge everything.
“I wore a red bikini at Nicky’s signing party.”
“Biz, I remember that bikini. It’s etched in my mind.”
“You know why? Because there were people taking pictures and I wanted her to know I looked okay in red.”
“Fucking fuck… fuck… fuck.”
