Mistrust (29 page)

We all sit around the pit fire, talking. Reece and Taylor gossip like two old women about the guys from school while Sam, Sophie and I keep quiet and listen.

“I thought girls were bad,” Sophie whispers behind her hand to me.

“I know. I didn’t think guys were this bad. Levi never bitched the way they are.” I point between Reece and Taylor.

Reece stops talking about some party that’s going to happen in two weeks and looks over at us. “What are you two talking about?” He tilts his head and narrows his eyes.

“Us? Nothing.” Sophie laughs. “Except you two can gossip like nothing we’ve ever seen.” Sophie points between herself and me.

“Hey.” I stand and stretch. “Don’t involve me.”

“Great, you’re gonna let me take the fall?” Sophie teases.

“Hell yeah.”

Reece smiles at us, and Sophie stands too. “Hey, I’m getting tired, I might have a shower and go crash.”

“Sure thing, I’ll show you where everything is.” Sophie’s mom is letting her stay here tonight.

“I better call my Mom, ask her to pick me up.” Taylor reaches into his pocket and grabs his cell.

Sam hugs Taylor around the neck, and gives him a peck on his cheek. My heart melts when I see that. It makes me so happy they’re into each other. Taylor’s a cool guy, and although he likes classical music, he’s still pretty fun.

Leading Sophie into my room, I give her a clean towel and show her to the bathroom so she can shower. Then I head back out. Taylor and Sam are near the slider, hugging each other. Reece is still sitting on the lounge chair, looking out over the clear, rippling water of the pool. I leave Sam and Taylor and head over to sit opposite Reece.

“I hope it’s okay if I stay a while longer?” he asks.

“Yeah it’s cool with me.”

“I like him.” Reece points to Taylor. “For a junior, he’s alright.”

I look over to Taylor and Sam. They’re entwined tightly together. One of Taylor’s hands is resting on the top of Sam’s butt, and the other on her opposite hip. Their foreheads are touching as they talk quietly together. They’re cute, and sweet, and it makes my heart sing to see them like this.

Mom’s figure appears from inside, and she comes through the slider, her eyes landing straight on Sam and Taylor. I start to laugh at Taylor’s reaction. Reece sees my amused face, and he turns in time to see Taylor pull away from Sam and look at Mom with pure horror. “Oh my God, Mrs. Bennett, I swear I wasn’t doing anything,” he stumbles over the words.

Even in the dim light, I can see the red tinge on Taylor’s cheeks. They seriously weren’t doing anything, but it amuses me to watch him squirm.

Mom cocks her hip and looks at Taylor. “Is that right? You weren’t doing anything?”

“No, ma’am, nothing. We were just saying goodnight because I called my Mom to come pick me up.”

Mom looks over to me, and I’m trying to hold in my cynical laugh. Getting up I walk over to Mom, who’s seething, Taylor, who’s crapping himself and Sam, who’s very quiet. “Seriously, Mom we’ve all been sitting out here talking. Taylor called his Mom to pick him up, and when I got back from showing Sophie where the bathroom is, they were here cuddling.”

Mom arches an eyebrow while still looking between Taylor and Sam. She brings her index and middle fingers up to tap them on her mouth, then points them to Taylor and says in a low tone, “I’ll be watching you.”

Poor Taylor looks like he’s about to lose his dinner.

“Mom,” Sam whines. “We really weren’t doing anything.”

“Okay, I believe you. But how about you two come in the family room and wait for your mom to pick you up, Taylor?” I chuckle, because Mom’s not too subtle.

Taylor’s gaze goes straight to me and Reece, and we both wave to him.

Reece and I fall into an easy conversation, and before long we’re joined by Sophie. She sits for a few minutes before she curls up on the lounger, and her eyes begin to drift shut. “I might head off to bed,” she says while yawning.

“Goodnight.” Reece looks up at her to smile, before crossing his arms and snuggling further into his chair.

“Night,” she yawns again and heads inside.

We have already made up the pull-out sofa. “Goodnight,” I add.

Sophie takes herself inside, and goes to sleep. Sam’s probably having a shower and then she’ll crash soon too.

“Just us left,” Reece says.

“Not for long, I’m tired too. I’ll be throwing you out soon.” I give him a cheeky smile.

“Yeah, it’s probably for the best. I’ve got so many things I have to do tomorrow. But this was fun, I enjoyed it.”

“Me too.”

“I was thinking, maybe we can go to the movies or something. There’s a new Marvel movie coming out, want to go?”

“Um.” I run my hand over the back of my neck, suddenly nervous he’s asking me out on a date.

“It’s okay,” he quickly adds. “I get it, you’re not into me like I’m into you.”

Blinking, I stare at him. He thinks I don’t like him. “It’s not that,” I say in a small voice. “I’m not ready to get into anything.” I want to tell him why, but I can’t.
I can’t tell anyone.

“Yeah, it’s cool.” He fidgets in his seat before he stands to his feet. “Anyway, I should go.”

He turns and takes huge steps to get away from me. “Reece,” I call, following him. But he ignores me and speeds up. “Reece.” My voice sounds flustered and edgy. “It’s not like that.”

“Really. It’s cool, no pressure.”

“Reece!” I shout loudly causing him to stop walking. Slowly he turns around to look at me. His cheeks are red, and I can see the embarrassment from me rejecting him. “How about we go.” His eyes light up and a small smile starts tugging at his mouth. “And we can invite Sam and Taylor.” The smile quickly drops.

He visibly gulps, his Adams apple vibrates with the every breath he takes. “Sure, like a double date.” I nod, hoping he’s okay with this. He focusses on his shoes, then lifts his face. I see his lips brighten in a smile. “Yeah, that sounds cool.”

“Great.”

“Great,” he says straight after me. “Well, I gotta get going too. Can I call you so we can plan going to the movies?”

Crap, my phone. Sam still has it. The idea of getting it back terrifies me, I simply don’t want to see any messages or even log into social media. This is my bubble. My happy place. No one can reach me here in my happy, safe, bubble. “Yeah, that’s cool. If I don’t answer just text me. I’ve kind of being staying away from social media and . . .” I pause and scrunch my mouth not really wanting to say anything else.

“People, right? Especially people who’ve not been so nice.”

“Yeah, them.”

“That’s cool. Just call me when you get my messages.”

We walk through the house, where Mom and Dad are sitting in the family room watching TV. Sophie’s tucked in a nook where we have a sofa bed for when we have guests stay.

“Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Bennett. Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re welcome, Reece.” Mom smiles up at Reece while she’s safely tucked under Dad’s arm. Dad gives Reece a nod.

We walk out front and sit on the sidewalk, waiting for someone to come pick him up. “I need to ask you something,” Reece says in a gentle voice.

“What is it?” I sweep my hand through some leaves that have fallen and gathered in the gutter.

“Did something bad happen with Levi?” My shoulders tense and my breath hitches. Turning my head away, I avoid his penetrating stare. “Something happened, right?” Shaking my head, I bring my knees up and lean my head on my bent legs. “Dakota, you can tell me.”

I take a deep breath and try to steady my shaky voice. “He didn’t do anything. But I hate how he and Lindsey are treating me. I’ve done nothing to either of them to justify how they’re handling this whole situation. He broke up with me, and then goes straight to her. It hurts like hell, you know?”

“I’m sorry he’s treating you like this.”

Offering him a weak smile I nod. “He’s not your responsibility.”

A car pulls up, and Miles rolls down the window, leans over and whistles at Reece. “Come on, Cinderella. I’ve got your glass slipper.”

Reece rolls his eyes, stands and dusts off his butt. “Thanks for tonight. Talk to you soon.”

“Hurry up, Queen Elsa, I’ve got somewhere I have to be. Let me get you back to your ice castle.”

Laughing, I stand from where we’re sitting. I walk over to the car and lean down on the edge of the window. “It scares me how you know all about these female princesses considering you only have brothers. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were into Disney movies.”

Miles winks at me, turns, and punches Reece in the arm. “Who says I’m not?”

Laughing, I say goodnight to both before stepping back from the curb and heading inside. I go straight to my room, grab my pajamas and have a shower.

Today’s been crazy. Sophie told me what happened to her. That heaviness she bared is now shared with me. It’s got to be hard on her, I at least have Sam, where she has no one. Washing myself, I keep thinking about Sophie’s situation and how she was ra . . . ra . . .
assaulted.
I still can’t say the word.

It’s dirty.

Not the word, the word holds its own stigma. The act, the thought and even the reputation given to a victim once it’s out in the open. I’ve heard what was said about others who were r . . . attacked.

It’s disgusting and dirty.

A tear runs down my cheek as I stand under the hot stream of the shower.

I’m disgusting and dirty.

I will forever carry this damage with me.

When I walk into the kitchen, Sam and Sophie are already sitting at the dining table while Mom cooks up bacon and eggs for breakfast.

“Good morning,” I say. Looking down the hallway I search for Dad. “Where’s Dad?”

“Dad had to go to the store. He needs some new business shirts and ties for work, so he’s gone shopping.” Mom prods an egg and checks the bacon in the oven. “Maple bacon and eggs sunny side up,” she proudly announces.

“Can I help, Mrs. B?”

“You can get the orange juice from the fridge and get the glasses from that cupboard over there.” Mom nods her head to the side, pointing.

Sophie grabs the glasses and juice. Sam gets some plates and cutlery.

“I’ll make some toast,” I offer walking over to the toaster while grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter.

Breakfast is ready quickly and Mom sets a plate for Dad and leaves it under the heating lamp for him. “Enjoy, girls.” We all dive in.

“Guess what I heard last night?” Sam shoves a piece of buttered toast in her mouth. We all look and wait for her to tell us. “Taylor said he heard from one of his friends, that a girl in my year let a boy . . .” She looks at Mom warily. “You know?”

“What? They had sex?” Mom asks in the most disgusted tone.

“No!” Sam eagerly responds. “She let him put his hand down her pants.”

“How old are they?”

“My age.”

I shake my head, stunned at what I’m hearing. Sophie gasps but keeps eating her breakfast in silence.

“Hold up a second,” Mom says placing her cutlery down on the plate. “Are you telling me two fourteen year olds were messing around?” Sam nods her head. “Wow, what a girl,” Mom mumbles while arching her brows, clearly disgusted.

I look at Mom, shocked at her reaction. “What do you mean?” I question.

“What kind of girl would do that?” Mom asks.

“Hang on, Mom.” I become defensive and irritated. “You’ve just heard two fourteen-year-olds are doing things to each other, and you automatically blame the girl, shaming her and not him?”

Mom leans back in her chair, and tilts her head to the side considering what I’ve said. “Well, she’s not a very nice young lady if she lets the boys do things like that to her.”

“Did you hear what you just said? In that one sentence you excuse him because he’s a ‘boy’ and blaming her because she’s a ‘young lady.’ She’s being shamed, but he’s not getting any of the blame or responsibility. That’s not right, Mom.”

“It’s not like that,” Mom protests.

“It
is
like that. Because you’ve got an image of her being easy and letting boys do this to her. But says who she
is
easy, and why hasn’t the boy been labelled? Who according to what Sam said, stuck
his
hand down
her
pants. Why is he allowed to do that, but only the girl is blamed for it?”

Mom blinks a few times and nods. “You have a valid point. I suppose I didn’t think of it that way.”

My heart’s beating wildly because this tells me all I need to know. I should’ve told my parents when it first happened, but if this is how my Mom—who’s normally really open-minded and easy to talk to—sees things, then I know I’d be blamed. There was never any chance for me.

“It’s how we’ve been conditioned,” Sophie says. We all turn to look at her. “We have; from a young age, we’ve been taught to question women if they cry for help. Maybe because we’re supposed to be stronger, maybe because we’re not supposed to point fingers or speak up when something happens to us.” Sophie shivers. I feel like she’s indirectly telling us what happened to her, and as I look at Sam and Mom, I think they can see it too.