Unraveling (2 page)

2

I sat on the lumpy blue couch and stared at Sharon.
Her pale blonde, now graying, hair was pulled back tightly from her skull. She was kind, as far as a therapist goes, and didn’t constantly ask me questions. She actually helped me work through my paranoia.

“How have things been since we last spoke
, Katy?” she sat back in her wingback chair and straightened her skirt. She held her pen poised above her clipboard but I never saw her write anything down. Maybe she waited until I left.

“I went out, clubbing with Rollo,” I swallowed.

She beamed at me, her pink painted lips pulling up at the corners. “That’s great news. You’re finally making progress.”

I laughed
dejectedly. “I don’t know about that.”

“Did something happen?” Her eyes crinkled with worry. Was it strange that my therapist worried about my welfare
more than my own mother?

“A guy, he got a bit too touchy feely.”

“How did you respond?” Okay, maybe she did ask a lot of questions.

“I felt cornered so I tried to find a way to remove myself from the situation just like you told me.”

“And did you?”

“No,” I shook my head and twisted my hands together. “Another guy showed up and intervened on my behalf.”

“Did he now? Did that frighten you?”

“No,
” I shrugged. “He made me feel safe. I didn’t feel threatened. I’ve felt threatened by all men, except Rollo, since… since-” I buried my head in my hands.

“It’s okay dear,” Sharon
said, reassuringly. “You’ve had to deal with a tremendous amount of emotional trauma. Tears are fine.”

I blinked my
water-clogged eyes. “Why do you think I didn’t feel threatened by him?”

Sharon
twisted her lips in thought. “My guess would be that your subconscious is finally coming to terms with your trauma. You’re beginning to realize that not all men are like Preston.”

“I’ve been aware of that all along, Sharon. It’s just that… I feel scared and I can’t trust them.”

“You trust Rollo,” she remarked.

“I’ve known Rollo since I was a child.”

“You knew Preston as a child as well,” she bit her pen.

“Not like I knew Rollo. Besides, Rollo’s gay.”

“Is that why you feel safe in his presence? Because he’s gay?”

“I
know
Rollo and I know he’d never hurt me,” I spoke with conviction.

“W
hat bothers you most about the Preston situation?” She asked.

“The fact that I was unable to protect myself and that my mother didn’t believe me,” I sighed
, dramatically. If only I could have a dollar for every time Sharon asked this question.

“I think I can help you with one of those
problems,” she stood. She strode to her desk and shuffled the clutter around. “Aha! Here it is,” she studied a neon pink flyer. She handed the crumpled piece of paper to me.

“Boxing?”
I looked at her like she’d grown three heads. Was she crazy?

“Read
further down,” she pointed.

“Self-defense classes?”

“I saw this in my grocery store and I just… thought of you,” she shrugged. “I think it would really help you get over some of your fears if you could protect yourself. Take a girlfriend with you.”

“I don’t have any
girl friends. Only Rollo.”

“Oh,”
she frowned. Brightening, she said, “Take him.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

She put her hand over mine. It was soft and her words were gentle, when she spoke. “I worry about you more than I do my other patients. You remind me of my daughter and I just hate to think of her going through something like this. I truly believe that self-defense classes will make you feel better.”

I folded the paper into fourths before tucking it into my purse. “Okay,” I nodded. “I’ll check it out.”

She smiled. “That’s all I ask.”

~***~

I slipped into my car and pushed a button on the steering wheel to ring Rollo.

“Rollo
.” He answered.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out of the parking lot. “Sharon thinks I need to go to self-defense classes.”

“That’s a good idea. I can’t believe I never thought of it!” Rollo exclaimed.

“You think it’s a good idea?”
I asked, in disbelief.

“Of course,” he huffed. “Maybe if you felt like you could defend yourself you’d get rid of a lot of your fear
s.”

I sighed
and thrust my hair out of my eyes. Great, now Rollo sounded exactly like Sharon.

When I didn’t say anything Rollo said, “Kat
y, are you there? Hello?”

“Yeah, I’m here… if I do this will you go with me? I don’t want to go by myself.”

“Of course I’ll go. I’d do anything for my bestest friend.”

“Thanks, Rollo, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I don’t know what you’d do either,” he laughed before clicking off.

I pulled into the park
ing lot of my condo building. I grabbed my purse and backpack off the passenger seat and headed up to the fourth level condo.

I dropped my bags by the door and kicked the door closed. I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and slurped it down.

Self-defense classes?

I had never even contemplated the idea before. Probably, because I wouldn’t
be too thrilled with the whole, touching thing.

I threw the empty water bottle away and grabbed my backpack.

I pushed open my bedroom door and plunked down at the little desk in the corner.

My room was fairly large, the walls
white, and the bed a bright robin’s egg blue with yellow bedding. Odd furniture pieces decorated the room, nothing matching. A pinkish-red rug covered most of the hardwood floors. My mother would die if she knew I had covered up the wood floors.

But this space was completely
me. I couldn’t say that about my childhood room.

I pulled my laptop out of my backpack and set it up on my desk. It powered on and I opened up my word document, for a paper I had been working on
for my Psych class.

I turned on some music. I hated the quiet. It allowed my thoughts to wander too much.

I was about halfway done with my paper when my stomach rumbled. I looked out the window in my bedroom and saw that night had descended.

I p
ushed away from my desk and padded down the hallway to the kitchen.

I grabbed a box of Froste
d Flakes, milk, and a bowl. I sat down on the couch, tucking my legs underneath me, and turned the TV on. Nothing of interest was on so I ended up settling on some celebrity gossip channel.

I was taking my first bite of cereal when my phone started ringing.

“Crap!”

I plopped my bowl down on the coffee table, milk sloshing over the sides, and ran for my purse. It was still sitting on the floor.

I practically ripped the zipper off in my haste to answer it.

Only two people ever called me.

Rollo.

And my mom.

I figured it was my mom, hence my frantic race to answer it, but thankfully, the caller ID said it was Rollo.

I should’ve known that it wouldn’t be her; she rarely called me anymore, maybe once a year, and usually to request my presence at some ritzy party of hers.
But some habits die-hard.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Baby cakes, I’m in the parking lot with Chinese. I got you sweet and sour chicken, your
fav-or-ite
,” he trilled. “Come down here and help me?”

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

I hadn’t taken my shoes off, so all I had to do was grab my keys.

I locked the door behind me and headed down to the parking lot.

Rollo was sitting on the curb with two paper bags of food next to him.

“How did you get here?”
I asked him.

Sophomore
students that lived in the dorms, like Rollo did, weren’t allowed to have cars. That was a privilege only allotted to the upperclassman and those that lived off campus, like myself.

“The bus.”

“You took the bus all the way here?” I bent down and grabbed one of the bags. A street light flickered above me.

“Yep,” he
said.

“Why? I would’ve come and gotten you.”

“I know,” he grabbed the other bag and we started back inside. “I just wanted to surprise you. Plus, I figured that, knowing you, you’ve probably not eaten yet.”

Rollo knew me way too well. I laughed. “I had actually just sat down with a bowl of cereal when you called.

“Blech!” he made a face. “Is that all you ever eat?”

“No, I
can
cook. I just choose not to, most days.”

We stopped outside my door and I pulled the keys out of my pocket to unlock it.

“Seriously, Katy? You had to lock the door to come outside?” He looked at me like I was off my rocker.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You are so weird,” he said, as I held the door open for him. He plopped the bag down on the counter and then proceeded to rummage through my refrigerator.

“Hey,” I snapped, “you never know who may be looking for an unlocked door, so they can sneak in, and-”

“Go no further with that statement,” Rollo held up a hand. “You’ve been watching way too many crime shows.”

“You know that’s not the reason I’m so paranoid!”
I cried.

Rollo sighed and sat down on one of the bar stools. He fiddled with the lid of a Diet Pepsi
bottle that he insisted I always have stocked in my fridge.

“I know, Katy. I do. But eventually you have to realize that not everyone is going to hurt you.”

My throat closed up and tears threatened to overflow. “Just give me my chicken.”

He rummaged through his bag and then pointed to me. “Must be in that one.”

“Oh,” I looked down at the bag I had forgotten I was holding. I pulled out my Chinese dinner and collapsed on the stool next to Rollo. “Ugh! I need a fork!” I hopped back up, grabbed a fork and a drink.

“You know,” said Rollo, chomping on his chicken fried rice, “I really do think this whole self-defense thing is going to be good for you.”

“Except,” I speared a piece of chicken and dipped it in the red sauce, “I don’t like to be touched.”

“You were holding that one guys hand. What’s the difference?”
Rollo asked, perplexed.

I shrugged. “I felt safe with him. I feel threatened by most people.”

“Baby cakes,” he shook his head, “you need some serious help.”

“I know,” I sighed.
“I’m trying to move past things it’s just… hard.”

“I’m here for you, Katy, if
you ever want to talk about it,” he looked at me sympathetically.

“Thanks,” I smiled at him, “but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk about it.”

“You will,” he patted my hand. “One day, you’ll be ready.”

3

“Rollo! Hurry up!”
I called from my car. “We’re going to be late!”

Even if I was dreading the stupid self-defense classes, I still didn’t want to be late.

He held his hand up in wait-a-minute-gesture.

“Rolland!” I yelled. Rollo hated to be called by his first name just as much as I did.

“I’ll be there in a second,
Katyrina!
” He yelled back.

I slid into the car and tossed my backpack in the back.

Classes were over for the day and I had a mountain of homework to do when I got home.

I started the car and watched another minute tick by.

I honked the horn.

Rollo turned and gave me
a death glare.

I rolled the window down and yelled, “I’m leaving without you!”

He threw his hands up and said something to the guy he was talking to, before
finally
starting towards the car.