Maybe I Will Page 4

  “I just need to adjust the idle,” he said. “Is it okay if I leave the garage door up so I don’t accidently die of carbon monoxide poisoning?”

  Aaron thought that was funny, and Cassie smacked him for laughing. “Definitely leave the door up,” she said to Troy.

  With Troy out in the garage, I was feeling pretty uncomfortable until Cassie asked me about the musical. It wasn’t long, though, before I was talking more about Shanika than about Peter Pan. “Once the musical’s over, I’m thinking about taking up taekwondo,” I confessed. “New York’s a big city. If I’m going to live there someday, it wouldn’t hurt to know a little self-defense.”

  The words “self-defense” caught Aaron’s attention. It was like he saw me for the first time. “Let me show you some wrestling moves for self-defense,” he said. He started talking about posture and balance and take-downs and was totally showing off for Cassie. I wasn’t impressed, but at least we were both making an effort to get along for Cassie’s sake. Or so I thought.

  I can’t remember now if Aaron sent Cassie out into the kitchen to get us something to drink or if she went out on her own, but as soon as she walked out of the room, Aaron pinned me.

  He looked me straight in the eyes. “Try to get up.”

  I struggled, but I couldn’t break free from his hold. Aaron-the-ape-man was on top of me and wasn’t about to let me up. He reeked of Axe cologne. His hot breath wrapped itself around my neck and sent a chill down my spine. I couldn’t breathe, and was just about to say so when he put his hand over my mouth. All of a sudden I realized I could feel his big “banana” on my thigh like the big, bad wolf beating on my door, shouting, “Let me in!”

  My heart pumped furiously, and my eyes began filling with tears. I thrashed around trying to fight him off, but he was too strong. I couldn’t get him off me. I could feel myself starting to panic. I stopped struggling and just tried to breathe. Cassie was right there. Nothing was going to happen.

  But I was wrong again. Aaron shoved his hand down the back of my pants, and I felt his fat middle finger go into my butt. If Cassie hadn’t been there he might have just torn my pants right off. At that moment I didn’t know what he was capable of. I tried to scream, but it came out more like a muffled growl. I was trying to bite his hand and squirm away when we heard Cassie coming back. Aaron jumped off me. As soon as his hand came off my mouth, I heard myself yell.

  “What’s all the commotion about?” Cassie asked. She set down a tray of drinks and snacks on the coffee table. I lay on the floor trembling.

  “Sandy put some pretty good moves on me,” Aaron lied. “I guess my training just kicked in, and I went straight for the pin.”

  Cassie walked over and gave him a hug. “All that weight-lifting—you don’t know your own strength!”

  Aaron held up his index finger all proud and erect. “I’m still number one.” Then he laughed and turned to me. “I guess you’ll have to settle for number two.” He was holding up two fingers then, and I knew the second one was the middle finger he’d just stuck inside me.

  Cassie started laughing, too. I tried to stand up, but my head was pounding and my ears were ringing. Aaron grabbed me and yanked me to my feet. “I must have knocked the wind out of you,” he said. “Sorry.”

  I couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.

  “No hard feelings?” Aaron said.

  I looked at Cassie. She was totally buying his act. “I need some fresh air,” I said shakily. I grabbed my coat and walked out to the garage.

  Troy peeked out from under Monte’s hood. He took one look at me and came around to where I was standing. He was still holding a screwdriver in his hand. It had such a startling effect on me. I stifled a scream and felt myself backing away. “Are you okay?” Troy asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Want me to take you home?”

  I shook my head again. My heart was pounding in my throat, making it impossible to breathe. I swallowed hard. I tried to imagine telling him. What would he do? I envisioned Troy going in there and attacking Aaron with the screwdriver. Cassie crying. Blood everywhere. I imagined Aaron wrestling the screwdriver away from Troy and stabbing him. I shuddered. “I just need some fresh air,” I said. And I started walking.

  I don’t know where I thought I was going. I was just trying to get away. Away from there. Away from Aaron. Away from what had just happened. Away from what might still happen. Away. When I realized I was walking directly into the wind, I zipped up my coat, pulled up the hood and thrust my hands in my pockets. Just keep walking.

  I must have walked for a long time, because next thing I knew I was several miles out of town, down by the river. There was an old covered bridge off to my right that crossed over the river into a state park. We used to love to play there when we were kids. The river wound around for several miles and then came back to only about a quarter mile south of here. In the summertime, people rented big inner tubes and floated off down the river. They’d float for two or three hours, depending on how high and fast the current was, until they came to the place to catch a shuttle back to the state park.

  I wanted to jump in the river and float away. Nearly all of the winter’s snow had melted so the waters were moving quite rapidly. The only bits of snow left along the banks were dirty, black and ugly. I stood at the edge of the covered bridge and wondered where I could possibly go from here. I felt like if I crossed that bridge, I would never come back. Who am I kidding? There is no bridge that will take me away and none that leads back to where I was. I sat down at the edge of the river and cried.

  8

  “Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air with secrets.”

  —The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus, Act IV, Scene ii, Line 169

  I WAS STILL sitting at the bank of the river when I heard my phone go off. It was a text message from Cassie.

  “Where r u?”

  I replied, “@ river”

  “Howd u get there?”

  “Walked”

  “R u ok?”

  “Yes”

  “Where @ river?”

  “Park bridge”

  “Stay where u r. We’ll come get u”

  And so I stayed. Of course, when Cassie said “we’ll come get you” I thought she meant she and Troy were coming. I had it all worked out in my mind that I would just tell them. I wouldn’t say a word until they asked me what was wrong, and then I would just blurt it out. Just say it. Say what? Aaron raped me? Only that’s not really it. Aaron stuck his finger in my butt? It sounded almost absurd, even to me. Aaron sexually assaulted me? That’s it. That’s what he did. But still that seemed pretty unbelievable. Aaron was popular. Aaron had Cassie. Why would Aaron mess with me?

  “I don’t know!” I screamed for the whole world to hear. My voice echoed back at me, a mocking whisper in my mind. I don’t know. I really don’t know. Aaron will deny it. He’ll laugh in my face. But Cassie and Troy are my best friends. They’ll believe me. They have to believe me. I’ll just say it.

  I heard a car pulling up to the bridge. I gathered all of my courage and determination and stood up. But when I turned to face my friends, I saw a black Ford Mustang. I held my breath hoping Troy and Monte would pull up behind them, but no luck. It was Cassie and Aaron.

  I felt a jolt, and then my body started trembling all over. Oh, my God! Cassie expects me to get in Aaron’s car. I honestly thought I was going to throw up. If I could have moved, I would have run all the way home and locked the door behind me. But I really couldn’t move. Aaron stepped out of the Mustang and leaned back against the driver’s-side door, arms crossed and lips curled up in a truly sinister grin. Cassie jumped out of the passenger-side door and ran down to meet me. She saw me trembling and pulled me up toward the car.

  “You’re freezing!” she exclaimed. “Get in the car where it’s warm.”

  And the next thing I knew I was trapped in the back seat of Aaron’s beastly car. And I wasn’t about to say a word. Aaron was pretending to be
all concerned—pretending like he didn’t do any-thing—and that’s what I was supposed to do, too. I tucked my hands in under my armpits and closed my eyes. My mind was racing to keep up with my heart. Just when I thought my head would explode, it came to me. That’s it. I’m supposed to act like nothing happened. No problem. If there’s one thing I can do and do well, it’s act. I’ll just act like nothing happened. For now.

  “Turn up the heat,” Cassie ordered.

  Aaron complied. Then he started digging around underneath his seat. “Try this,” he said, handing a bottle to Cassie who was sitting in the front passenger seat.

  Cassie shook her head. “I told you, Sandy and Troy don’t drink.”

  “No, you told me Sandy and Troy don’t party.” Aaron threw the car into reverse. Gravel flew as we spun around and sped away. “Just pass the bottle back to Sandy.”

  Cassie stared at me blankly until I nodded. She handed me a bottle of peppermint schnapps.

  “Are you sure?” She watched me quizzically.

  I unscrewed the cap and braced myself. Do it just like a shot of Nyquil. I took a deep breath and held the air in my lungs before taking two big gulps from the bottle. It burned all the way down my throat and into my stomach, but as I exhaled I felt a warming, tingling calm start to radiate out through my body.

  I could feel Aaron watching me in his rearview mirror. I took two more quick gulps before handing the bottle back up to Cassie.

  “All righty, then,” she said. She tossed her head back and took a swallow.

  “Send it this way,” Aaron said, reaching his right arm out toward the bottle.

  “Not while you’re driving, Aaron,” answered Cassie.

  He tickled her side. “Aw, come on. I’m cold, too.”

  Cassie laughed and slapped his hand away playfully. “You get Sandy home safely, and then I’ll be happy to warm you up.”

  Aaron laughed and put both hands back on the steering wheel. He was still watching me in the rearview mirror. “Oooh, baby! I like the sound of that,” he said.

  I could feel the tears starting up again behind my eyes. I sniffled and wiped my face on my coat sleeve. Then I motioned for Cassie to hand me the bottle again. Two more big gulps kept me acting like nothing had happened all the way home.

  By the time the Mustang pulled into my driveway, it was dark out.

  “Seriously, Sandy, are you going to be okay?” Cassie asked.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Thanks for the ride home.”

  “You’re welcome,” Aaron cut in, like he actually believed I was talking to him.

  My heart rapid-fired like a submachine gun spitting out beats like bullets as Cassie slowly opened the passenger-side door, climbed out and put the seat forward for me. I could barely breathe, but I leaped out of the car as soon as the path was clear.

  “Hold on,” Cassie said to Aaron and then slammed the car door shut behind her. “Sandy, what’s going on?”

  A cold wind had us both bundling ourselves up and made it easy to avoid any real explanation.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’m fine.”

  Cassie opened the car door. Before she ducked back inside she said, “Call me later.”

  I nodded.

  “Promise?”

  I nodded again. “Later,” I said.

  My parents were at some business dinner with one of Mom’s clients, so I had the house to myself. That was lucky for me. I’m not sure how I would have dealt with my parents. They would have known something was up and probably would have figured out that I’d been drinking, too. My parents could be cool, but they definitely would not be cool with underage drinking.

  I went into the kitchen and found a note from Mom. They would be back late, and there was a casserole in the refrigerator I could reheat if I hadn’t eaten with Troy and Cassie. I opened the refrigerator. I saw the casserole, but I really wasn’t hungry. There was an unopened jug of chardonnay on the top shelf by the milk and a half bottle of red wine with the cork stuck back in it. Mom always put the red wine on top of the refrigerator, but Dad always put it inside the fridge. It was an ongoing battle and the only thing they seemed to genuinely disagree on.

  I pulled out the open bottle, removed the cork and poured a little in a juice glass. I’d tasted wine and beer in Mexico last year. My parents didn’t mind because it was legal there, but I didn’t really like the way it tasted, so I didn’t actually drink much—just a taste of whatever Mom and Dad ordered.

  I smelled the red wine in the juice glass and wrinkled my nose. Then I just downed it. It made the sides of my tongue tingle like a sweet tart, but there was no sweet, only tart. I put the cork back in the bottle just like it was before and stuck the bottle back in the refrigerator.

  I rinsed out the juice glass and wandered into the formal dining room where my parents kept a cabinet full of liquor. Way in the back I found an old bottle of peppermint schnapps. No telling how long it had been there. I’d never seen my parents drink it. It was probably older than I was. I turned the bottle around and examined the label. There was no expiration date so I unscrewed the lid and poured about an ounce into the juice glass.

  It smelled just like the stuff I had earlier, so I drank it. It tasted just like the other stuff, so I poured some more in the glass and took a big drink. It felt like a cleansing fire. Totally relaxing as soon as the burning passed. It looked like water. Fire water. I laughed and poured myself another glass. By the time I finished the bottle, I was feeling pretty good.

  I decided to refill the empty bottle with water and put it back in the back of the cabinet where I’d found it. I’d be old enough to buy some real schnapps to refill it in five years, and my parents would probably never know. It seemed like the perfect plan, only while I was in the kitchen trying to refill the bottle, I got it too full, and while I was pouring water back out of it and checking to see how full it still was, I accidentally dropped it, and it shattered all over the kitchen floor.

  Normally, I’d be upset that I had a mess to clean up, but the broken bottle actually cracked me up. I couldn’t stop laughing. It was like when I was full of water, I was breakable, but now that I was out of tears and full of schnapps, I was shatterproof, and the bottle filled with water, well, of course, it had to break in my place.

  It was quite a production cleaning it all up, though—the mop, the broom, lots of paper towel and—oh sorry—no recycling this glass and paper. I wrapped all of the broken glass and wet paper towel in a brown paper grocery bag and tied that up in a plastic grocery sack, and hid that in the big garbage can out in the garage.

  There. Just like it never happened.

  I went to my room and flung myself down on the bed. Bam! Shatterproof! I closed my eyes and laughed like a maniac. When I opened my eyes, the room was spinning. I closed my eyes again, but there was no stopping the spinning. I started to feel so dizzy and nauseated; I knew I was going to throw up. I tried to stand up to walk to the bathroom, but the spinning only got worse. I fell back down to my knees and crawled to the toilet where I threw up. And I just kept throwing up. Even when there wasn’t anything left inside me to throw up, I still kept throwing up. I flushed my guts down the toilet. Nothing left but the empty, shatterproof bottle.

  I needed a shower, but the idea of standing up for very long seemed impossible, so I filled the bathtub with hot water. Only hot, no cold. Scalding hot. Fire water. I struggled into the tub and sub-merged myself in the boiling water to sterilize myself. It burned, but it felt good. I let myself sink all the way down until the water covered my mouth and the steam filled my nostrils. As the hot water relaxed the knots in my stomach and released the tension in all of my muscles, I felt like I might fall asleep. To be or not to be. Just go to sleep. To dream… or not. Off to Neverland. Never-again-land. Let your body slip down a couple more inches and never wake up . . . Maybe I will.

  9

  “It is a tale

  Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

  Signifying nothing.�
��

  —Macbeth, Act V, Scene v, Lines 26-28

  I AWOKE WITH a start. The water had cooled almost to the point of chilling me. When I tried to stand, my head pounded and my eyes burned. I sat back down and splashed the cool water on my face. Just get yourself dried off and back to bed before Mom and Dad get home. It seemed like a simple enough plan, but it was all I could do to roll myself over the side of the tub and out onto the bathmat. My head pounded relentlessly as I dried myself off, pulled on a pair of sweats, and finally escaped into my bed.

  I felt my mom’s hand on my forehead, then on my cheeks. “No fever.”

  I rubbed my eyes and tried to sit up. A sledgehammer smacked me right between the eyes. I winced and fell back. “I don’t feel very well,” I mumbled.

  “I guess not,” Dad said. “It’s almost noon.”

  “Maybe it was something I ate.” Or drank. Let’s not go there.

  “Are you sick to your stomach?” Mom asked. “What did you eat?”

  “Last night? I don’t know. Stuff at Cassie’s.”

  “How do you feel now?” Mom asked.

  “My head hurts. My stomach hurts. I just want to sleep.”

  Mom nodded. “Let’s get you some Tylenol for the headache and some ginger ale to hydrate you and settle your stomach.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. So I took my Tylenol and several sips of ginger ale and went back to sleep.

  The next time I woke up, I felt a little better. My head had stopped pounding, and I just felt really thirsty. I chugged the glass of ginger ale, then made my way to the bathroom. I held my thoughts until I was once again safe in bed. Then it all came back to me. Aaron. Walking. Aaron’s car. Drinking. Shattered glass. I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow. After a while I turned over again, but I somehow felt more suffocated with my face out of the pillow. I stayed on my back, and put the pillow over my face. That seemed to be just the right amount of suffocation for me to start to think clearly.