Blue Rose (A Flowering Novel) (9 page)

16

The after party was at some ridiculous house. It ha
d like twelve bedrooms or something. Half the school had apparently been invited and, even though we headed straight there, it was already packed when we arrived.

Prom had been fine, but I was feeling claustrophobic. I missed Jack. I missed his bitterness, his snide commentary about the people who prowled our high school. Although Dave was a freak and a loser, too, he wasn’t in our classes and the crowd he knew seemed less vicious than the honors kids who surrounded me and Jack.
As soon as we got to the party, Dave was dragged off by a couple of kids from one of his classes. I didn’t follow or argue; I knew he would’ve stayed with me, but I felt bad. Most of the time they treated all of us like shit, but tonight they were being nice to him. Why should I interfere? I figured he would find me eventually.

I entered the living room and three girls – Amanda, Natalie, and Siouxanna – stopped talking and looked at me. They were the most popular juniors and they looked almost exactly the same. Except Amanda had blonde hair, Natalie was a brunette, and Siouxanna’s hair was dyed black. For some reason, my naturally black hair made me a freak, but hers made her cool.

“What are you doing here?” Natalie snapped.

“Ian and his friends invited us,” I said.

“Ew. I didn’t realize this was a fucking cathouse,” Amanda replied.

I was surprised
that she knew was a cathouse even was, but I kept my mouth shut. It just wasn’t worth it.

“Where did you get that dress, anyway?” Amanda continued.

“She probably fucked someone to give it to her,” Natalie countered.

Amanda laughed. “Mom’s new boyfriend? Did you fuck him, too? Looking for a sugar daddy?”

I don’t know why I stood there and took it. I guess I didn’t want to make a scene, and I didn’t want to ruin Dave’s night. Without Jack, I didn’t know how to stand up to them, so I just stood in the doorway while they called me a slut and made fun of my dress. By the time Ian walked in, I was actually relieved to see him. He’d invited me, after all. Maybe he saw me as something else. Maybe he wanted to be my friend. I was still really that naïve.

“Hey, Alana, do you have a minute?” he asked.

I nodded. I wasn’t sure whose house it was, but Ian must have known the person well, because he led me by the arm through the crowd, up the stairs, and into a spare bedroom. I didn’t see Dave and I didn’t ask about him; I was so hopeful, even after everything I’d been through, that I didn’t see it for what it was until it was too late.

There were three guys in the room already
when Ian brought me inside. I knew them, but not well. Wade was Amanda’s boyfriend; Natalie had been off and on again with Jason; and, although they weren’t together, Topher had been Siouxanna’s date for Prom. They had broken up a while ago. He and Ian were seniors, and I’d heard that Topher thought Siouxanna was too uptight, so he broke up with her while he was looking at colleges. Something about wanting the freedom to meet new girls.

“You look re
ally nice tonight,” Jason said, but it didn’t sound like the kind of nice that Jack or Dave saw in me. It sounded just like my father. His voice even reminded me of my father’s.

“Thanks,” I replied
, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew what was happening by then. Ian locked the door and came around in front of me. He put his hands on my shoulders and leaned close to my face. “Dave looks busy and we were thinking you’d like to play. We’ve all heard some pretty great things about you.”

“What about Amanda?” I asked. At least Wade shouldn’t be here.

Ian stepped aside so I could see Wade. He shrugged. “She’s my girlfriend, but there are some things you have to go elsewhere to get.”

“Yeah. Like what?” I knew exactly what, but I wanted them to say it.
I wanted them to look me in the eye and tell me exactly what I was. I wanted them to realize what they were doing, but of course, we all want a lot of things that never happen.

“Listen, Alana,” Ian said, running his hands along my arms
and neck. He accidentally tore the ribbons along the top of my dress, but he didn’t even notice. They fell to the floor at his feet, but it didn’t matter. I was a cheap whore in a cheap dress, and no one needed to take care with either.

“
Your reputation is pretty well known,” he continued. “Those girls downstairs? Well, they didn’t want us to invite you tonight because they’re afraid of you. They’ve heard the same things. But while they might not like you because of it, I’m sure that we will like you just fine.”

Topher stood up.
He was angry and probably beyond drunk. He pulled me against his body and I could feel him getting excited as I started to cry. “Look, if you can fuck that dirty killer’s kid, you can fuck us. Where is he anyway?”

I don’t know why, but it bothered me
that he said it. I was already mad at Jack for leaving me to deal with tonight alone. And now, I was so much angrier. I was also angry at Dave for going off with his friends, even though I hadn’t stopped him. Finally, I was pissed at the girls downstairs. They always made me feel bad for doing the things that they were somehow popular for doing, as if I was broken or wrong because of who I was.

All of those things ran through my head and I realized
that there was only one way to get back at all of them. There was only one thing that I knew how to do, and I realized how much power I wielded in that moment. I could hurt them all for making me angry and all that I needed to do was get naked and let a few guys fuck me. All I needed to do was to be the girl that Jack and Dave believed I wasn’t. Because if I showed them that I wasn’t worth believing in, the rest of them would be right, and then I wouldn’t need to keep hoping that things would change. I made the decision that night that nothing was worth fighting for anymore, because no matter how much I hoped, no matter how much I dreamed, it would all end with nights like this.

“Okay,” I said
, looking at the four guys waiting in front of me. “Who’s first?”

The thrift store Prom dress was quickly forgotten
, torn to pieces, as they passed me back and forth for hours. I did things that I’d never done with Jack. Things that I hadn’t even thought about, not since my father had made me watch porn with him while he raped me. I let Topher and Ian and Wade and Jason come all over my body; I let them use me as they wanted. It went on all night. By dawn, I had been fucked raw and they were all more than happy, already bragging to each other as if I wasn’t even there, as if I couldn’t hear what they were saying. At some point, Ian took out his cell phone and got me on video, blowing Topher while Wade fucked me from behind. I was naked and dirty, my pretty dress around my waist, and they called me the wrong name, but I didn’t care. I’d realized finally what I was and what I did. It was rage that drove me, hatred at the people who were supposed to want more for me, but they had abandoned me. And so I abandoned the idea that there was anything else.

In the morning, they all left and, when the room was empty, I picked up my dress, holding it together, even though it was ripped in so many places. I would never wear it again, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t belong at things like Prom. When I
walked downstairs, my makeup was smeared and my hair was a mess. I had to keep one hand on the zipper in the back of my dress to stop it from falling off of me. I had no way home, because Dave had apparently left hours before. I didn’t know if he’d looked for me, but it didn’t matter. I needed someone to take me home. Siouxanna was awake when I made it to the kitchen, looking for a ride.

“Nice show,” she said.

I didn’t register what she said at first. I ignored her and walked around downstairs, finding most people asleep. Eventually, I stumbled across Ian, who was sitting with one of his friends. They both looked at me when I walked in and his friend checked me out. I didn’t even know the guy’s name.

“Can one of you bring me home?” I asked.

At first, I was scared that the stranger would offer, because I was afraid of what it meant I would have to do, but Ian sighed and stood up.

“Fine,” he said. “Go wait outside. You’re a fucking mess.”

He met me by the car, but he wouldn’t take me home right away. Instead, he drove to the parking lot of a local warehouse, which was closed on the weekends, and I let him fuck me in the backseat in exchange for a ride to my house. It was fine. I felt nothing.

I texted Dave when I got home, and
all he said was that he needed a break. I messaged him a few more times, but he didn’t reply. I was still mad at him for leaving me at the party, until I saw that there was another text waiting. I didn’t recognize the number, but I soon learned that the text was a video; it had been sent to every single person at my stupid high school. It was time-stamped around two in the morning. In the video, I was on my knees, sucking Topher’s dick, with Wade behind me. They were enjoying it and, at one point, they high-fived over my head. I looked like I loved it, too, and the audio certainly made it sound like I did.

The video had a text message with it as well. It listed m
y name and my phone number, along with the comment, “dedicated to getting you off since 7
th
grade.”

17

Melinda’s quiet when I finish. I try not to let the judgment fill the room, but I feel it. I look down at my sweater and start pulling the beads of lint off the edges. I know what I am. I’ve known for a long time. I’m pretty, but because of that, I have to be less than whole. I don’t blame myself anymore for my dad, and I’m not sure I still think Jerry was penance for Jack. I do, however, fully blame myself for Prom. I didn’t need to do that, but I did. Because I didn’t think I could be anything else, and no one tried to tell me that I was wrong.

“You’re angry,” Melinda says.

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“If not angry, then what?”

It’s a tough question, because I can’t blame everyone else for my choices. I made the choice, and it had no bearing on their opinions of me. Even now, I still do, though; I still long for someone to tell me that I was better than that, that I didn’t need to do it. Because after it happened, it just confirmed that not one person believed anything else about me, even Jack.

“I feel… abandoned.”

“How so?” she asks.

I try not to let it feel like it’s happening again, but the anxiety makes the room spin. It’s been four years. I have no excuse anymore. I should move on, get over it. That’s what everyone always says. That I’m weak, pathetic, a typical woman who holds a grudge. Yet even talking about
it brings back the days that followed, and it brings back the one conversation that broke me completely.

“Dave broke up with me after he saw the video. I don’t blame him, but he didn’t even ask. I mean, I guess there wasn’t much to ask. He saw it. It happened. But still… he left me as soon as we got to the party. I didn’t need to go upstairs, but he played his role just as well.”

“But you were together? Later?” she asks.

I nod. “We ended up getting back together a little while later. Maybe a month? He never apologized for leaving me that night, and I never apologized for what I did. We just didn’t talk about it.”

“You went back to sleeping with him, though. Was that right away?”

I sigh. “It’s complicated.”

She pauses, but I don’t continue. I don’t want to talk about Dave, to talk about how I treated him, to see myself as the girl I was when he was in my life. I set us up to fail, but that’s not why I’m here.

“Can we just not talk about him? I can’t talk about him,” I say.

She takes a deep breath, writes something down on her notepad, and nods. “Okay. Well, tell me why you felt abandoned.”

“It was Jack. The Wednesday after Prom. I…”

But I can’t continue. It hurts more than it did back then. It’s stupid. I know it’s stupid. High school ended a long time ago. The harassment, those guys, the girls they dated – it’s all in the past. Jack and I have moved on. Sure, we’re both broken, but we’re still here, and that one conversation was just
one
conversation. But as I think of it, my lungs collapse inside of my chest, and I begin to hyperventilate. Melinda talks me through the attack, slowly, calmly, and I manage to stay sitting on the futon without too much chaos erupting.

Her clock dings just as the attack subsides and I look at it. I should be relieved, but instead I start to laugh, a bitter, twisted laugh. I brought this pain to the surface, faced it again for the first time in years, and now, time’s up. So I have to hang on to the pain for another week or so, or repress it again, pushing it back behind the wall that turned out to be far less sturdy than I’d hoped. If I put it back, I can’t promise I can face taking it back out. I don’t know that I want to test the wall’s strength, either.

She looks over at the clock, too, then at my face. She puts down her pen and notepad, but surprises me when she speaks. “I don’t have another appointment for an hour. I think, perhaps, you need to tell me about Jack. About the Wednesday after Prom. Can you do that, Alana?”

I put my hands under my ass, pressing down hard, to feel the pain, to feel something, and then I nod back at her. “
I have never been suicidal, but if I was, that would have been the day that pushed me over the edge.”