Knee Deep Page 16

  My hand rings the doorbell and I wait, my insides all tightened up with the thought of facing him after letting him just drive away into the darkness.

  “Hey, Ronnie.” His mom gives me this really weird, thin-lipped smile as she opens the door.

  And when I thought it wasn’t possible to feel worse, I feel worse. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m guessing you’re looking for Luke?” Her voice is nice enough, but something’s happened. I’m sure of it.

  “Is he here?” No. No, he’s not here. I know it right now.

  “He took his finals this morning, all of them. He had enough credits to graduate. He’s gone.”

  My heart drops. It takes four tries to swallow the ball in my throat before I can answer her. “Gone?”

  “Down to live with his dad.” She sighs. “Who still has issues with maturity and not knowing when to leave the office.”

  Luke can’t be gone. My heart races in panic. Gone. Gone. “When will he…”

  “I don’t know, Ronnie.” Her sympathetic look is slowly crushing me from the inside. “He’s…I think he’s just feeling a little lost right now.”

  That makes two of us. My shoulders fall. I did this. “I guess I’ll call him later.”

  Her weight shifts and she sighs. “I’d give him some time, hon.”

  “Right.” She knows. “I’ll give him some time, but will you please at least tell him I stopped by? And that I talked with my dad and told him everything?”

  “I definitely will.” She gives me a wave before closing the door.

  I definitely will. Those three words give me so much relief that I know I made the right decision in coming here.

  And it’s official. I’ve lost Luke. And I’m about to lose Shawn, too. If there’s anything left there to lose.

  Like a brick wall it hits me, as I walk down Luke’s driveway. Even without the possibility of Luke, Shawn is too much for me right now. He just is. The whole thing is. Once I gave the thought of us being apart a chance, a kind of weight lifted off me. That’s enough for me to know I really do need a break. From everyone. Everything. I need to be able to run my own schedule, do what I want, when I want and not worry so much all the time. Although it doesn’t change how much I miss Luke, or how the word gone is ripping holes through my chest.

  But first, I need to deal with Shawn. And because I’m still a horrible person, I cry for Luke on my way to Shawn’s house. The thing is, I can’t even really internalize it yet—the loss of Luke. He won’t be at school. He won’t share chocolate-covered popcorn while we watch movies. We won’t walk together. It’ll all be gone. Luke will be gone. Every thought hollows me out further.

  The streetlamps come on as I walk to Shawn’s house. So much time has passed. I haven’t been home in hours. I’m starving, thirsty and completely drained. I’m stupid to have come here.

  Shawn opens the door and his body goes stiff.

  It’s a whole different kind of rejection.

  “Hey.” I raise my hand in a wave like an idiot.

  “Wanna come in?” he asks.

  I nod. I can do this. I take a deep breath before stepping inside. His house doesn’t feel any different without his father here, or with my new knowledge of his life here. It’s just a house.

  “Hi Ronnie.” Diane smiles from the kitchen. “Are you staying for dinner?”

  “Uh…not tonight.” This whole thing feels surreal. And it’s like Shawn knows what’s coming. He’s so stoic. His jaw juts forward in some sort of macho ‘I’m-annoyed-with-you’ thing, but I know better. This is when it hits me. I know him well enough that I know what he’s trying to put off. I know him. He’s part of my history, and until very recently, I was sure he’d be part of my future.

  Thinking about splitting with him while walking alone is one thing. Being faced with the boy I’ve loved, and still love, is something else entirely.

  “Okay.” Her smile is wide as she moves back into the kitchen.

  Shawn and I step into his room. It’s still darker in here than I’d like. There’s a dent in the wall where he slammed his fist on the night he was drunk. It gives me some resolve, because the longer I stand near him feeling like he might no longer be mine, the harder it’s going to be.

  “Come to tell me you’re running off with Luke?” His voice is quiet. His face unreadable. The calm is almost worse than the anger.

  “I talked with his mom. He graduated early and left town.” My body remains rigid. Like maybe if I can remain stiff, this all won’t hurt so much.

  Shawn’s brows go up almost imperceptibly. “Oh.”

  I fold my arms in front of me, protection, holding myself together. The bracelet on my wrist is heavy. Too heavy. My chest sinks as I squeeze the clasp.

  His head shakes. “No, Ronnie. I’m not taking that back.”

  The bracelet swings free and I watch the small coin dangle on the bottom. Ronnie. Shawn. It’s too much. Too much expectation. Too much pressure. “I need some time, Shawn. Maybe an endless amount. I don’t know. I still love you, but I…” I hold the bracelet in my hand.

  “You love Luke, too.” It’s the first hint of anger I’ve gotten from him.

  “All that matters is what’s between me and you. And what isn’t.” I find his eyes with mine. They’re not the eyes I fell in love with. There’s too much bitterness, frustration and hatred in them right now. It grips at my chest to know that some of it’s because of me.

  “That’s not all that matters here, Ronnie.” He shakes his head. “I want to know what happened between you and Luke.” His voice comes out low and tense.

  “Nothing. He told me he liked me and I stood silent and let him leave.” Shawn doesn’t need the particulars; that’s between Luke and I. But a small knot of fear begins to form in my stomach with how intense he looks.

  His brow pulls together. “But you didn’t come here.”

  “I was too confused. Too hurt. Too scared. Too frustrated.” I hold the bracelet out to him. “I can’t keep this.”

  He closes my hand over it again. “This is a present, Ronnie. To you, from me. Look, if you need some space for a while I guess I get it, but I’m not taking that back.”

  “I can’t.” And I wish I could let him into my brain so he could see how messed up this all is. “I just can’t. Not right now.”

  “So why the hell did I tell you how my life has gone to crap if you were just going to add to the pile!” he yells.

  I jump back. Time to go. And how did I not make sure he didn’t block my path to the door? “I can’t talk to you when you’re mad.” I start to move around him, but he steps between me and the door. My body seizes up. I need out. And I don’t care about volume. Not now. “Let me out, Shawn!”

  “Why should I? Huh? So you can trample on me again? I don’t think so! You don’t even fucking care!” He pushes me back with both hands.

  “I do!” I scream. “I just can’t be afraid if you’re having a good day or not! I can’t be afraid to wear a certain kind of shoes! Or to be part of a play! Or to have friends who are boys!” My body’s shaking with tears and fear and frustration and everything that’s been boiling inside of me.

  “But that doesn’t really work, does it? Having friends that are boys? Because now you’re leaving me for him !” He points at me and steps forward again, pushing me further away from the door.

  I step back. “NO!” I’m desperate. The tears are heavy on the edges of my eyes. “Don’t you get it? I don’t get him either! It doesn’t matter! Not to me. Not between us! That’s not what this is about!” I take enough of a breath to stop yelling. “I need a break.” I need time. I need to be me. If I even know who I am anymore.

  “I told you everything. Everything.” His teeth are clenched and he steps closer, his breath coming hard and fast. “Why did you wait until you knew it would crush me to step on me like this?”

  “That’s not fair! I hid bruises! I didn’t talk to Mindy ! I lied to my parents over and over!” That�
��s it. I need out. I start again to step around him, but he grabs my arm. I pull towards the door. “Let me go! Let me go !” I don’t care who hears right now. I need help. My free hand pushes against him.

  “Shut up!” His free arm backhands the side of my face so hard I fall to the floor. The ache from my face spreads and I blink, begging the black spots to disappear. Terror seizes my stomach, my chest, but I don’t have the strength to get up. I don’t know which way is up. What will happen if I pass out? What would he do to me?

  The door flies open. Dad has Shawn against the wall. His forearm presses against Shawn’s chest. I watch in a blur, still unsure of what’s happening. The room is spinning and I can’t make the blackness go away.

  “Ronnie, go home, now !” Dad’s voice is more forceful than I’ve ever heard it.

  I use Shawn’s bed to pull myself off the floor. The room jerks and tilts as I make my way to the door.

  Dad’s a good six inches taller than Shawn and has him pinned. Shawn’s eyes are on me and he’s breathing hard through clenched teeth.

  “Go, Ronnie.” Dad’s head doesn’t turn and he doesn’t move from where he has Shawn pinned.

  I stumble up the hallway, still dazed with blurry vision. The carpet feels like pillowy mush, and I’m not sure where to put my feet. My heart’s slowing, but it’s hard in my ears. My legs are shaking, quivering, like they belong to someone else. Diane’s standing near the front door with her hand over her mouth chanting softly, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

  I step past her into the darkness of the evening. Mom’s jogging up the street and takes me in her arms as soon as she reaches me. Nothing’s over. Nothing’s resolved. Everything’s just a mess. And I’ve made it that way.

  “Oh, honey,” she whispers as she holds my shaking body on the sidewalk.

  “Dad, he’s…” In Shawn’s room. Holding Shawn. Against the wall. Alien. Foreign.

  “Your dad’s fine. Let’s get home.”

  I walk with Mom’s arm around me, heart breaking, like pieces of me are being scattered along the sidewalk as we go.

  Dad has a broken Shawn against a wall in his house. Diane’s chanting a rhythmic apology she may not know how to stop. I’m in disbelief that one frustrated grab of my wrist has led to this disaster.

  As we step into the light of our entryway, Mom turns toward me and gasps. She holds her hands to her mouth. Just like Diane had a few moments ago. “Let’s get you some ice.” The first tear drops down her cheek. “You’re bleeding, sweetie.”

  Right. He had on his stupid watch. I stumble into our living room and sit. My head’s throbbing. Is Dad okay? Is Shawn okay? Mom murmurs into the phone in the kitchen.

  “I think we should take you in.” Mom hands me a bag of ice cream.

  “Ice cream?” I hold it in one hand, but I’m afraid to lift my head from the back of the couch. It feels like my skull is breaking, splitting apart, almost as broken as my heart.

  “Your face is swelling fast, honey. You need cold, but I was worried the ice would hurt.” Mom blinks a few times and more tears come down her cheeks.

  It must be bad, but I’m not thinking clearly. I let my eyes close. The cold feels good but she’s right, my temple and all around my eye is so sensitive I can barely rest the bag against my face.

  “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” She pats my knee with her hand and disappears.

  I slide down further in the couch, but every movement sends throbs of pain through the side of my head making me dizzy and nauseated.

  Mom sits in front of me with a flashlight.

  “Where’s Dad?”

  She turns on the flashlight and starts shining it in my eyes.

  “He’s there until the cops arrive.”

  My heart sprints again. “Cops? Who called the cops?”

  “Diane.” Mom lets out a breath as the flashlight falls to her lap. “She called them on her home phone and dialed us from her cell at the same time.”

  “Oh.” My chest feels scratched, hollowed, emptied. All of this is so real. It was just a couple of frustrated evenings. That’s it. And now we’re talking cops, and my dad. My peaceful, mellow dad with his arm against Shawn, holding him to the wall. And me with a swelling face—a gift from the boy I loved since our first kiss in the woods.

  I miss Luke. He’s exactly what I need right now. Sensitive Luke with a bit of laughter on the edge of everything he says. But I screwed that up too. What’s left? A Ronnie who’s busted herself into pieces and let other people do the same.

  ~ 20 ~

  They actually do a CT scan at the hospital because my eyes are still dilating weird. Because of Shawn. I’ve stepped into someone else’s life. It’s really the only explanation for my day. For the past month, or months. This isn’t me. Any moment I’ll wake up, realizing that this is all a big nightmare.

  Mom’s sharing my hospital bed; her arm is around me when a female police officer comes into my room wearing the smile of a pediatric nurse. Her blonde hair is neatly pulled back into a ponytail, and even with her wide smile, her squared shoulders and straight spine hold authority.

  “Rhonda Bird?” She sits.

  “Yes,” Mom answers.

  “I’m Ronnie.” I hold the ice against the side of my face. “Where’s my dad?”

  “We took Shawn into custody just after you and your mom left. Your dad’s outside talking to another officer. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  And now this woman, this foreign person, is a guest in my hospital room. I’m still reeling that this is actually happening. No dream. She’s the one who’s about to ask me things I don’t want to talk about. Don’t want them to know. Don’t want Mom to know. I guess that’s silly. I talked with Dad. I’m sure Dad told Mom. But even with Dad I held things back. Do I hold the same things back now? Or do I tell her everything?

  She answers the question. “I need you to tell me everything, Ronnie.” Her bright blue eyes remind me of Mindy.

  Mindy. I know what she’d tell me to do. She’d tell me to say everything. So would Luke. “Do we have to do it now?” I ask.

  “It helps if I get your story right when the incident happened. Memories tend to gloss over things later on, especially in cases like this.” She’s still smiling, but there’s firmness in her voice. “You’re not in trouble here, Ronnie. We just want a clear picture of what happened.”

  My eyes flit to Mom. I’m not sure if I can get it all out with her here. The officer’s heart won’t break when I talk about what happened. Mom’s will.

  Mom’s arm tightens around me. “I’ll go. Your dad and I will be right outside, and I’ll see if we can go home soon.”

  I shift. The room spins. My head throbs.

  Mom stands up, heartbreak all over her face. Again, something I caused. She steps outside, closing the door slowly behind her.

  “Let’s get through this, okay? And then it sounds like you’ll be able to head home.” Back to the pediatric nurse smile.

  I pull the bag of ice from my face and her brows go up.

  “Let’s get pictures,” she says. “I also want you to take pictures tomorrow because you’ll look worse then.”

  Pictures, police, this is all so…dramatic. “What will happen to Shawn?”

  “He’ll get the help he needs, okay?” She pulls out a small camera and takes several pictures of my face, while I try to move as little as possible.

  “Are those from him, too?” She points to my wrist.

  I’d forgotten. My head nods, pain shoots through my face, down my neck. The room spins again. Her camera flashes a few more times and then she sits.

  “Can you tell me what happened tonight?”

  “It would be easier if I started at the beginning,” I say.

  “At the beginning?” She makes a quick note.

  “Yeah.” I close my eyes and, as I talk, I start to re-live all the things I shouldn’t have lived in the first place. I tell her even the stupid stuff, like the s
neaking out, and the frustration, and the shoes. I’m rubbing my wrist when I talk about the first time he grabbed me. How shocked I was. She asks about Luke and how much he knew. He’d only kept quiet because he used to love me and I begged him. Tears start down my cheeks. They burn like fire on my left side where the ice has been keeping me numb.

  She makes an occasional note, but her recorder is running. There’s no taking it back now. I’m starting to understand the difference between embarrassment and humiliation. Embarrassment is toilet paper stuck to your shoe, or your zipper sliding down. Humiliation is feeling stupid, knowing things should have been different, knowing I had the power to make things different instead of landing us all in this surreal situation. No, not surreal. Again, alien, foreign. My dad’s form in my girly room is nothing compared to the alien-ness of this.

  “Wow, Ronnie.” She lets out a breath when I finish the details of this night. “You’re a very brave girl.”

  Her comment brings another wave of tears. If I was a brave girl, I’d have walked away from Shawn when he grabbed my wrist that first time. So many decisions each and every day were based on Shawn. What he wanted to do, what he wanted me to do, what he liked, what would make him happy. Where was I in all of that? Did I even have a place? Did he love me, or own me, or both?

  “Do you want your parents to come in now?”

  I don’t answer. There are no more words left in me.

  “If you think of anything else you let me know, okay?” She sets a card on the table. “I’ll give one to your mom, too.”

  I carefully press the melting ice to my face and wince as the plastic of the bag touches my skin.

  After six hours in the ER I’m so sick of sympathetic faces I could scream. They have decided I’m allowed to sleep, and Mom has a list of things to look for. I have a concussion. I’m dizzy. I’m warned I may be dizzy for days.

  My thoughts are thick, wooden, shallow and not making sense.

  Mom is crying and sympathetic. I know Dad well enough to know he’s using every shrink trick he learned to not be angry. I don’t think it works well. His jaw keeps flexing. I’ve broken their hearts, too. I’m on quite a wave of destruction.