Very Bad Things
Page 55
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
He reached over and awkwardly hugged me, and I patted his back, feeling like I was comforting him.
“Why do you stay with her?” I asked, pulling back.
He sighed. “What would people think if I left? There’s never been a divorce in my family, and together we’re a strong force. People respect the Blakely name.” He shrugged. “She’s on her way to the top in television, and I do whatever I want. Why would I change it?”
Indeed.
I nodded, acknowledging in my head that we were a fucked-up family. I wondered if he would confront either of them. He was as fixated on society and reputation as Mother. My gut told me he was genuinely angry for me, but that still didn’t mean he’d go to the police and drag our family name through the mud. In the end, our prestige meant more than I did.
Later, as I watched him get into his Mercedes and drive away, money was on my mind. He’d left me several hundred in cash, but he didn’t say if he would again. I didn’t want their money anyway, but I did need to help out Aunt Portia. She’d been the one feeding me, buying me clothes, and paying my cell bill. Thankfully, the Volvo had been a gift from my now dead grandparents on my sixteenth birthday, so it was mine. I didn’t want my parents’ money, but I did want my thirty thousand in prize money and ten thousand in scholarship money I’d collected when I’d won the spelling bee. I needed every single cent to get through college. Yeah, I had a scholarship to UT, but I’d still have living expenses. He’d said he’d consider making me the primary on the account that holds all my money, but he’d have to run it by Mother.
It appeared my lifestyle might be changing. Poor girls didn’t shop at Neiman Marcus, even on sale day. Poor girls didn’t live in big chateauesque houses. Poor girls don’t go to college where you have to write an essay to get in. And, poor girls don’t wait for someone to save them. They save themselves.
I was okay with that.
I’d forgotten Sebastian was still in the shop. I found him at a booth, suspiciously close to the one where my dad and I had been sitting.
My heart sank. “Oh, no,” I said, closing my eyes in realization.
He strode over and hugged me, and I shuddered in relief.
He said, “Please don’t be mad at me, but when he walked in, you looked so lost. I wanted to be close in case you needed me.”
I sighed. “You always seem to be picking up my pieces.”
He smiled and shrugged. “Dude, you’re my best friend, like a sister.”
“When did I become so special?”
He tightened his arms around me. “As soon as I realized how much Leo cared for you,” he said.
I shook my head. “Don’t talk about him.”
He nodded.
“Do you hate me?” I asked tentatively, not meeting his eyes. “After all you heard?”
“Never in a million years, Nora,” he said softly.
I exhaled in relief. “I want you to forget about this. Don’t think of me as a victim because I’m not now. I’ve finally confronted Mother, and I have hope that someday I’ll be better,” I said.
He nodded. “How old was he when it happened?”
“Eighteen.”
“Have you considered reporting it to the police for real? I’m not sure what the statute of limitations is in Texas for rape, but Leo knows some cops who signed up for gym memberships. He could ask around.”
“Please, please, don’t tell Leo,” I begged in a rush. “I don’t want him to know I’m ruined. If he ever found out . . .”
“You are not ruined,” Sebastian said, interrupting me gently.
“I’m ashamed. Maybe I caused it all.”
“God, Nora, no. You were a kid, and Finn deserves to rot in prison.”
“You can’t tell Leo,” I pleaded.
He sighed. “Okay, I won’t, because you should. When you’re ready.”
“I’ll never be ready because he doesn’t care to know, Sebastian. He doesn’t want me.”
I sat back down at the table, and he sat next to me.
“Will you go to the police?” he asked, not letting it go.
“I know you just want to help me, but I can’t do that.”
“You can make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else,” he said gently.
My stomach rolled at the thought. “Don’t think I haven’t worried about that. I just can’t face telling other people and showing them the pictures. Not yet.”
“Alright, I get that,” he said. “And about Leo: whatever you said to him Saturday night, it messed him up.”
I shrugged. “So what. I don’t care.”
Sebastian kept talking, “He’s been a bear to everybody for the past few days, bitching at the contractors, calling the decorators and complaining about the color of the walls. Crying about the new equipment. He’s been drinking at night.” He searched my eyes. “He stares out the front window all the time. I think he’s looking for you.”
I shrugged. “That ship has sailed, and he named Tiffani the captain.”
“I lie awake and dream of her;
I close my eyes and dream of her.”
–Leo Tate
FIVE DAYS AFTER she’d seen me with Tiffani, I woke up needing to see her. Just see her face. Once, that’s all, and I’d be okay and could get through the rest of the week. But it wasn’t a good idea, so I shoved the feeling away.
“Why do you stay with her?” I asked, pulling back.
He sighed. “What would people think if I left? There’s never been a divorce in my family, and together we’re a strong force. People respect the Blakely name.” He shrugged. “She’s on her way to the top in television, and I do whatever I want. Why would I change it?”
Indeed.
I nodded, acknowledging in my head that we were a fucked-up family. I wondered if he would confront either of them. He was as fixated on society and reputation as Mother. My gut told me he was genuinely angry for me, but that still didn’t mean he’d go to the police and drag our family name through the mud. In the end, our prestige meant more than I did.
Later, as I watched him get into his Mercedes and drive away, money was on my mind. He’d left me several hundred in cash, but he didn’t say if he would again. I didn’t want their money anyway, but I did need to help out Aunt Portia. She’d been the one feeding me, buying me clothes, and paying my cell bill. Thankfully, the Volvo had been a gift from my now dead grandparents on my sixteenth birthday, so it was mine. I didn’t want my parents’ money, but I did want my thirty thousand in prize money and ten thousand in scholarship money I’d collected when I’d won the spelling bee. I needed every single cent to get through college. Yeah, I had a scholarship to UT, but I’d still have living expenses. He’d said he’d consider making me the primary on the account that holds all my money, but he’d have to run it by Mother.
It appeared my lifestyle might be changing. Poor girls didn’t shop at Neiman Marcus, even on sale day. Poor girls didn’t live in big chateauesque houses. Poor girls don’t go to college where you have to write an essay to get in. And, poor girls don’t wait for someone to save them. They save themselves.
I was okay with that.
I’d forgotten Sebastian was still in the shop. I found him at a booth, suspiciously close to the one where my dad and I had been sitting.
My heart sank. “Oh, no,” I said, closing my eyes in realization.
He strode over and hugged me, and I shuddered in relief.
He said, “Please don’t be mad at me, but when he walked in, you looked so lost. I wanted to be close in case you needed me.”
I sighed. “You always seem to be picking up my pieces.”
He smiled and shrugged. “Dude, you’re my best friend, like a sister.”
“When did I become so special?”
He tightened his arms around me. “As soon as I realized how much Leo cared for you,” he said.
I shook my head. “Don’t talk about him.”
He nodded.
“Do you hate me?” I asked tentatively, not meeting his eyes. “After all you heard?”
“Never in a million years, Nora,” he said softly.
I exhaled in relief. “I want you to forget about this. Don’t think of me as a victim because I’m not now. I’ve finally confronted Mother, and I have hope that someday I’ll be better,” I said.
He nodded. “How old was he when it happened?”
“Eighteen.”
“Have you considered reporting it to the police for real? I’m not sure what the statute of limitations is in Texas for rape, but Leo knows some cops who signed up for gym memberships. He could ask around.”
“Please, please, don’t tell Leo,” I begged in a rush. “I don’t want him to know I’m ruined. If he ever found out . . .”
“You are not ruined,” Sebastian said, interrupting me gently.
“I’m ashamed. Maybe I caused it all.”
“God, Nora, no. You were a kid, and Finn deserves to rot in prison.”
“You can’t tell Leo,” I pleaded.
He sighed. “Okay, I won’t, because you should. When you’re ready.”
“I’ll never be ready because he doesn’t care to know, Sebastian. He doesn’t want me.”
I sat back down at the table, and he sat next to me.
“Will you go to the police?” he asked, not letting it go.
“I know you just want to help me, but I can’t do that.”
“You can make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else,” he said gently.
My stomach rolled at the thought. “Don’t think I haven’t worried about that. I just can’t face telling other people and showing them the pictures. Not yet.”
“Alright, I get that,” he said. “And about Leo: whatever you said to him Saturday night, it messed him up.”
I shrugged. “So what. I don’t care.”
Sebastian kept talking, “He’s been a bear to everybody for the past few days, bitching at the contractors, calling the decorators and complaining about the color of the walls. Crying about the new equipment. He’s been drinking at night.” He searched my eyes. “He stares out the front window all the time. I think he’s looking for you.”
I shrugged. “That ship has sailed, and he named Tiffani the captain.”
“I lie awake and dream of her;
I close my eyes and dream of her.”
–Leo Tate
FIVE DAYS AFTER she’d seen me with Tiffani, I woke up needing to see her. Just see her face. Once, that’s all, and I’d be okay and could get through the rest of the week. But it wasn’t a good idea, so I shoved the feeling away.
