My legs clamped down on his hand, squeezing my
thighs tightly together. I breathed in, then out. In, out. It
could’ve been minutes or hours until I scrambled back out of his
grasp, unable to face him.
“Maggie,” he said slowly, “what’s wrong, babe?”
“I need to go. I have to go right now.” I jumped out
of bed naked, not caring that he was watching me, confusion
plastered across his beautiful face. I tugged on my jeans and threw
my shirt over my head. Max reached for my hand, shock registering
on his face. “Oh my God, Maggie, is that why you’re here? Did
someone?” He shook his head in disbelief, staring into my now
tear-filled eyes. “It is, isn’t it?”
“I have to go, Max. I’m sorry. It’s not you.” I
started to jog out of his room, wiping the tears with the back of
my hand, when two hands wrapped around my waist, holding me
back.
“You can’t go, Maggie. I won’t let you. Not now.
Please, come back and lie down with me. I won’t touch you, I
promise. Just let me hold you tonight.” He turned me around without
removing his arms from my waist, pressing his forehead to mine.
“Please, don’t go.”
I dropped my head onto his chest, and sobbed about
that night. I’d cried my eyes out when it happened, eventually told
my mother, who didn’t believe me. And, here was this wonderful man
wanting to take care of me-who believed me. I dropped my bag and
took his hand in mine, leading him back to his bed. I didn’t
undress this time. He lifted the blanket so I could scoot in and
then came to lie beside me. After what seemed like forever, my
tears finally dried he lifted my chin. “Do you want talk about
it?”
“You want my story?”
“Yeah, I want your story.” He swept the hair back
from my face. “If you’ll trust me with it.”
I took a deep breath before I started. “The first
time I was nine. Nobody was home, but my dad and I. He always made
me nervous, even back before it happened. My dad was a heavy
drinker, always smelled like alcohol, and his chewing tobacco at
night and on the days he was off. He didn’t dare drink when he had
his shifts, but always, always after. I will never forget the smell
of his breath. I didn’t trust him. He called me to his room one
day, and he was already lying in bed. He asked me to snuggle with
him, so I did. I wasn’t allowed to say no to him or he’d get the
belt out.” I looked down, but Max lifted my chin again.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he whispered.
I nodded. “Anyway, he grabbed hold of my hand and
placed it on his, you know.” I shook my head to shake loose the
image. “He was under the blankets so I didn’t know. I instantly
froze when I realized he was naked, but I still didn’t understand
what he was asking of me. Why did he want my hand there? What was I
supposed to do with it? Why was that weird moaning sound coming
from his mouth? I heard an episode of ‘Hannah Montana’ blare from
the TV I’d left on in the kitchen, and I jumped out of bed. I told
him I’d been waiting to see that particular episode and ran from
him. He never brought it up again. He even left me alone for a
while.”
“I thought it was over, but it wasn’t. He came into
my room while I was sleeping one night. My brother was at a
sleepover, and my mom was away for a girls’ weekend with her
friends. He said those exact same words to me that you just did,
and that’s why I froze. I try not to think about it, to let it back
in, but sometimes I can’t help it.”
Max’s eyes closed for a second. “I’m sorry. You know
I would never had said that if I’d known.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“Did he ... did he?” He started to ask but couldn’t
seem to finish the question, but I knew what he wanted to know.
I shook my head. “No. He made me do something else.
I felt so sick to my stomach for years. To this day I have no idea
why he left me alone after that. I know why he left me alone that
night.” I cleared my throat. “Jeremy and Luke came back way earlier
than expected. Apparently they’d gotten into a fight with some kids
at the mall and came home. My dad jumped off my bed so fast. I
thanked God everyday those boys liked to cause trouble. Because I
hated to think what would’ve happened if they’d stayed away.”
“It wasn’t until I was thirteen that I had the nerve
to bring a friend over for the whole night. Big mistake. She woke
up in hysterics somewhere around two in the morning. I still can’t
believe she didn’t tell her parents that my dad reached into her
shorts while she slept. He should’ve gone to jail, but she never
told and I kept my mouth shut completely ashamed. I wanted to tell
someone I trusted. But who? I couldn’t tell Jeremy or Luke. I was
ashamed of him-of myself. It took me two more years to stand up for
my friend. I told my mother thinking she’d leave the son of a
bitch. Instead she called me a liar.”
I paused to make sure Max was still paying
attention. His eyes glistened as he pressed his lips to my
forehead, sighing. “Keep going,” he said.
“It took me until I was fifteen to finally tell her.
Fifteen. It took me years to get the courage and once I did my
whole life changed. And not for the better. I just didn’t have the
heart to tell Jeremy. My dad was his idol, not to mention the whole
town loved him. My dad was the baseball coach, the football coach.
You name it, they did it together. Two peas in a pod. I didn’t want
Jeremy to know what a monster he really was, so it was one of the
reasons I left. It took me a long time. I finished high school,
even completed a year and a half of college. I couldn’t stand to
live in the same house anymore and be near him everyday. I hated my
bedroom. I hated sleeping in the bed that he touched me in.”
Max continued to smooth my hair behind my ears,
soothing me. “So, nobody knows you’re here. Not even Jeremy?”
“No. Not even Jeremy. I left him a note with
Luke.”
“Who’s Luke?”
“He was my boyfriend. I left him too.”
“Wow! What happened with Luke? Did he know?”
“He didn’t. I knew he’d probably grab his dad’s gun
if I told him. Luke and I were always close, but we only got
together after high school. I left him one night at school. He was
so happy there, and I felt like I was bringing him down, not
letting him get the typical college experience. I wrote two notes,
one for him and one for Jeremy. Luke’s note told him everything he
needed to know, and I begged him in it to never tell Jeremy. I knew
he’d keep my secret. He kept all my secrets. He loved me.”
“I really am sorry, Maggie. No one should have to go
through that.”
Max snuggled me closer, burying me into his chest,
rubbing small little circles on my back, just like Luke used to,
soothing me until I fell asleep.
Chapter 3
Luke
I could do this. I could do this. I could get
up, brush my teeth, get dressed, and start another day. This was
what I’d needed to repeat to myself to get out of bed every day for
the last five months. Sometimes, it was so hard that I couldn’t do
it. I couldn’t start a new day. Hell, I couldn’t even breathe
sometimes.
A picture of my family was still lying on the pillow
next to me, right where I placed it before the Xanax finally kicked
in the night before. Every night was hard, but knowing that today
was supposed to be some sort of do-over, I’d taken two Xanax with a
beer chaser before I relaxed enough and closed my eyes. It took no
more than fifteen minutes for me to stop feeling, shut it all out,
to black out for another dreamless night. Just the way I liked
it.
The three of us-The Three Amigos- were sitting in a
fast food joint somewhere smack in the middle of Ohio making our
way to New York. The Big Apple. What the hell they thought we were
going to find there to save me, I had no clue. But, my two best
friends, Jeremy and Dean, seemed to think it’d work, so I obliged
and went on the road trip. I didn’t want to go, but apparently I
had no control of my own life anymore. They’d been camping out in
my room playing watchdog for the last few weeks since they knew I’d
been drinking heavily ever since. It wasn’t something I was proud
of, or even wanted to do. It’s just that sometimes it was all too
much to handle.
I’d like to say that I recovered when Maggie walked
out of my life, but it was hard. I managed to do it, but damn I
missed Maggie. I missed my family. I didn’t know when I lost my
mind. Did I lose it when Maggie left? When my family was killed? Or
maybe a little of both. I just knew that I was lost without
them.
It wasn’t until Dean forced me to have a
heart-to-heart that convinced me. Phoebe, my baby sister, would be
pissed at me for not moving on. I felt like an asshole of a friend
to Jeremy for everything he’d been through in the last two years.
He lost a lot too. He just handled it better, while I walked around
like a fucking robot that someone forgot to put the batteries in
for the last five months.
Ahead of us stood the girl Dean pointed out after
seeing her get off the bus. One of those huge touristy ones with
the words, The Mountaineer written in tall black letters along the
side. Our eyes focused on one thing and one thing only: her amazing
ass in those ridiculously tight shorty-shorts with one word
stretched across her butt in silver glittery letters-PINK. Jeremy
hit Dean with the back of his hand when she stepped forward and to
the right. My eyes traveled with her as she moved to pull out a
straw and some napkins. This was the kind of girl who you gaped at
because you simply couldn’t resist. She looked like she belonged in
Hollywood, or maybe on the cover of Playboy. From her crazy-ass
body to her bleached blond hair to those full red lips that made
you wonder how they’d feel wrapped around your dick.
We sat down at the table next to hers. I studied her
for a second as she played with the salad, stirring her fork around
a few times. She hadn’t noticed us yet, or more likely she’d chosen
to ignore us, since we were pretty loud and obnoxious. You really
couldn’t miss us. Jeremy started talking about who was taking the
next driving shift to New York, since he’d driven the last few
hours. I knew it was my turn, but I didn’t speak up. I sipped on my
Coke while looking up at Dean and Jeremy, and then realized they
were watching her walk away. I twisted in my seat to check her out
one last time before she took off to wherever it was she was
heading. I shook my head, as Jeremy muttered, “Damn, now that’s
what I call a woMAN.”
“No shit, dude. She was a fucking twenty on a scale
of one to ten,” Dean agreed.
She didn’t hold a candle to Maggie. That was another
problem in itself. Every girl who walked into my life, whether it
was for twenty minutes or twenty days, I compared her to the one
girl who meant more than anything to me. It was the little things
that made me fall for her-how she always had some baked gooey snack
for me whenever I came over, how she always let everyone around her
be happy before she was, how she held my hand until the ambulance
got to school when I broke my leg, then insisted on riding with me.
The first time I told her I loved her, you would’ve thought I’d
told her I stopped global warming or ended world hunger the way she
cried. It was the sweetest damn thing I’d ever seen.
Dean and Jeremy were arguing about the last time
they played Call of Duty and who really won when Jeremy stopped
midsentence and stared behind me. Dean did the same. Upon seeing
their stupid ass grins, I was about to twist around when I heard,
“Hey, I hate to bother you guys, but I kind of overheard your
conversation. Y’all heading to New York?” Like assholes, they both
just nodded their heads, speechless. She walked all the way around
and took a seat. She held out her hand. “I’m Phoebe.”
And I wanted to take her hand, but I couldn’t. I
stared at her for a beat and then back to Jeremy. “Let’s go.”
Jeremy sighed but knew. He stood and scooted around
her. “It was nice to meet you, but we gotta jet,” he said,
disappointed.
We walked out, my heart rate quickened at just
hearing those fucking six little letters.
Phoebe.
Out of every name on God’s green earth, why did she
have the same name as my beautiful, dead sister? I hadn’t heard
that name slip off another’s lips since her funeral. People knew
not to bring up my family. My dead family. I should be dead too.
But I’m not because I was the stupid asshole who got into a wicked
fight with Phoebe that night and refused to go watch her school
play. She was sixteen, and way too young to die. She never even got
the chance to step on stage to fulfill the part that she referred
to as the role of a lifetime. Their car was struck by some asshole
strung out on heroin going the wrong way up a ramp. The police say
my folks didn’t even have a chance to avoid him. They all died
instantly. For the last five months, I’d wished I’d gone with them.
I wished I could take back every painful word that I’d said to my
sister, but it was too late.
She was gone.
Maggie was gone.
Everyone was gone.
This other Phoebe slung her backpack over her
shoulder. “I hate to bother you guys, but please? My bus left. I
have nobody to help me,” she called out.
I closed my eyes and stopped before I made it to the
door. “You don’t even know us.”
She walked quickly to catch up. “I know, but I’m
going to New York too, and I thought maybe y’all could give me a
lift?” She paused, probably trying to figure out which one of our
threesome would cave first, batting those damn eyelashes. “I have
some money. I could help with gas, and driving.” Dean glared at me,
begging for me to agree with just his eyes.
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I think it’s a pretty
dumbass risk coming on the road with three dudes you don’t know.
What if we’re rapists or murderers? What the hell’s wrong with
you?” I said disgusted, although I wasn’t totally repulsed, just
more shocked than anything.