Broken World (14 page)

Dear Diary-

I did it. I stood up to Daddy today. It was awful. BUT I DID IT.

The memory of what he’d said, how he’d looked at me makes my eyes water. Just as quickly, I remind myself that finally, after years of groveling for the smallest sign he loved me, I did something that I’m truly proud of. I did the right thing. I’m helping to save other women’s lives.

And I don’t care what Daddy thinks.

Chapter Eight

The next morning, I’m late to my first class and pissed. Chris took my iPad as I walked out the door, and I couldn’t coordinate with Ari about where to meet before class. I waited for her at her locker until I was late for class. I walk in and duck my head. Everyone stares at me as I make my way to the back of class.

Benji smiles at me as I slide into the desk beside his.

“Ari said to tell you she’s got the flu,” he whispers.

“Seriously?” I ask, irritated. “Why’d she tell you and not me?”

He shrugs. “Said she couldn’t get you on the phone last night.”

Bitch. Leaves me alone at school to face Jenna and the rest of the world alone.

Actually, it’s Chris’s fault for taking my phone yesterday.

“You wanna go out sometime?” Benji asks. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, but you’re hard to catch sometimes.”

“I don’t know,” I say. I just want to survive the next few weeks, until shit hits the fan and I’m trapped in my house for the rest of my life. “I’ve got a lot going on.” I can’t help thinking I’d rather have ice cream with Dom and his niece than go out with Benji.

“Yeah, I know. But maybe it’ll take your mind off things.”

“Maybe.”

“I turn eighteen Friday. I’m having a party.”

No way in hell. I never, ever want to go to another party.

“Or we can go out Saturday,” he says at my silence. “You’re a September baby, aren’t you?”

“October first,” I answer. “Thanks, but I’m not much of one for parties anymore.”

“Oh, god, I didn’t even think of that,” Benji says, his eyes widening. “I mean, I don’t …”

“It’s okay,” I assure him. “Thanks for asking.”

“Sorry, yeah.” His face is red. “Maybe Saturday? Sound better?”

I hesitate. Benji is tall and handsome, and I would’ve totally dived at the chance to date him last year. Or even, this summer, before the incident. So much has changed.

“I think it’s just too soon for me,” I tell him honestly. “If you need a date, I can hook you up with Ari.” I almost laugh when I say the words. Normally, Ari has a line of men and I’m watching her try to pick which one.

Our whispering draws the attention of the teacher, and we are quiet for a few minutes.

“Hey, can you?” Benji asks, once the teacher turns her back. “Ask Ari?”

“I can. And I know she’ll want to,” I tell him.

If I had my damn phone or iPad, I could text her. I’m fidgeting again. By the end of the day, I’m ready to kill someone. I feel vulnerable and anxious without my phone. To make matters worse, I’ve still got cramps and am bleeding heavily. I just want to curl up in my room and stay there.

At cheer practice, Jenna won’t even look at me, probably because of something Chris said to her legal team. I dance hard and stay long, needing the outlet, until I see Fabio walk across the football field.

With no phone, I have no concept of time. Fabio comes to get me, and we leave. I arrive to the women’s clinic late, dressed in my cheer practice clothing, and still in an awful mood.

Gianna passes me twice before stopping. I eye her.

“Okay, rough day, I get it,” she says.

“This has been the longest day of my life,” I moan. “I have no phone. I can’t stand it.”

“You play sports?” She looks at my outfit.

“I cheer.”

“I noticed you’re a bit more talkative on days you cheer.”

“I feel like I’m gonna explode most days.”

I see her click into counselor mode and groan as she pulls up a chair. I rest my forehead on the desk, hoping she’ll take the hint.

“Talk to me.”

“I already have a shrink. I see him four days a week,” I reply.

“How do you release stress?”

“I don’t knoooooooow,” I groan.

“I go to cheer practice, Gianna,” she says in a funny voice.

I can’t help my smile. Sensing my thaw, she keeps at me.

“Are you good at any sports?”

“You’re not gonna stop bugging me are you?” I ask.

“Persistence runs rampant in the family.”

“Yeah, I figured that out.”

Gianna doesn’t move.

“Yes, I’ve played sports.” I sigh.

“Which ones?”

“Basketball, soccer and field hockey. Beating up the girl at school was really nice, too.”

Gianna laughs. “Martial arts, maybe? You know, we encourage women to learn self-defense. It might help you adjust and get rid of some of that pent-up emotion.”

“Never thought about self-defense,” I say. “A little late to learn.”

“It’s never too late to learn.”

“I’ll think about it. Do you have classes here?”

“Yep. We have a gym here. Dom and our oldest brother, Tony, the other cop in the family, and a few other cops volunteer to teach self-defense a couple times a week.”

“Um, maybe I’ll stick to basketball,” I say at Dom’s name.

“I’ll show you. You can try it once and if you don’t like it -”

“Wait, that’s the same thing you said about group counseling.” I frown.

“I told you, I help people. Come on.”

I follow her grudgingly. We walk through the medical area and through a hallway I haven’t explored yet. The door at the far end leads to a sagging gym that smells of old gym socks. Worn blue mats are set up on one side. Women are paired up and practicing throwing each other down.

“Tonight’s class,” Gianna says, motioning to it. “Basketballs are there. We leave the mats out, in case people want to come and do yoga or stretch or anything.”

My eyes are on the instructor. He’s not Dom, and he doesn’t look like he’s an older brother of the two siblings. I look over the gym.

“You’re welcome to come here whenever,” Gianna says. “What other ways can you relieve stress in a healthy way?”

“Daddy’s got a gym in the house,” I say.

“Okay, good. Basketball, gym, cheer squad. Do you know how to tell you need to do something or do you hit the boiling point and snap?” As she talks, she moves back into the hallway, and we walk towards the medical clinic.

“Snap usually,” I admit.

“Maybe you should start doing something every day in the morning.”

“I guess.” I know she’s right, but I’m kinda sick of people trying to fix me.

“Okay, I’m done for today,” Gianna says. “You sleeping any better?”

“I did almost sleep through the night last night. First time since the incident,” I say. “I was probably just really tired.”

“Good. Take those little victories.”

She’s right. I like the idea of little victories. Benji is a little victory for Ari, who has been so sweet to me the past few weeks. If I can deliver him to her with a bow on his head, I will. I fidget again, needing to text someone, anyone.

“It’s eight. Your car should be here,” Gianna says as we reach my desk. “See you Saturday?”

I nod and bolt. My car is there, and I go home then head straight to the study to see Chris.

My new phone is waiting for me on the study table. Chris is working. He doesn’t even look up. I snatch my phone, intending to run. I’ve got messages already.

“How was school?” Chris asks. “Any issues?”

“Nope.”

“Should I be expecting any phone calls? Articles in the press?”

“I was good. Promise.”

He says nothing else, and I leave. I see Ari’s messages and voicemails and text her quickly to see if she’s feeling better. I can’t remember ever feeling so relieved at holding my phone.

I’ve got one from Benji, too, about his party Friday. He sent it yesterday night, before I told him no this morning. He makes a joke about us both being legal soon. For some reason, it pisses me off. My whole life is on hold until I’m
legal
in two weeks.

I stop midway up the stairs to type him an angry response then think twice. Benji can’t know what I’ve gone through the past few days. He’s just being a typical guy.

“What’s wrong?” Chris calls, heading towards the door. He glances up at me.

“Nothing. Going to my room.” I bound up the stairs to my room and close the door.

I read through my texts, laughing at Ari’s. She was bored most of the day and complaining about how I didn’t answer her. I call her.

“Oh, finally,” she whines as she answers the phone.

“You sound awful.”

“I feel awful. It’s not even flu season.”

“I’m so sorry about not answering. I lost my phone last night.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been alone and miserable and sick and
lonely
!”

“I know, Ari.” I go to my closet. “I just got home from community service.”

“Ugh. I’d rather be sick than do that.”

“It’s not that bad,” I admit, thinking of Gianna. “Oh, Ari, you are totally gonna love this.”

“What?”

“I got you a date!”

“Benji or Dom?”

“Omigod.” I roll my eyes at her. “Benji. This weekend.”

“Mia!” she wails. “I’m sick! What if I look like shit still?”

“You’ll be fine,” I say. “You never look bad.”

“I do right now,” she retorts. “How did yesterday go? Good?”

I hesitate. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Can you set me up with Dom next?”

“You are twice as pretty as me. You can get your own men,” I tell her.

She sneezes loudly. “I gotta go. I’ll text, but I can’t talk without sneezing.”

“Lame.”

“Sick.”

“Okay. Text me.”

“I will,” she says.

I go through the rest of my texts. Two are from Molly, asking if I’m okay. I respond to her and Benji then pull up Dom’s contact info. Normally, I never know what to say. After what he said last night, I’m really clueless.

Ari texts me, demanding to know the details of Benji asking her out. For her sake, I don’t tell her that he wanted me first. Ari normally gets all the guys, and I pause, wondering what changed over the summer. Mom, Ari and Molly are all beautiful.

Benji should be interested in her. I leave the closet and go to the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. There’s still something different about me, and when I look too fast, I see the bruises again. I had a growth spurt when I turned seventeen, and I went up a pants size, because I got hips.

I’m still pissed at that.

But nothing in the mirror makes me think I’m prettier than Ari. Nothing I see makes me think I deserve what happened to me. I don’t turn heads. I don’t know why Robert Connor and Madison Stewart chose me.

The sense of despair threatens to overwhelm me. I hate looking in the mirror. I don’t fully recognize who’s looking back at me. She’s changed. I’ve changed.

Ari, do you think I’m pretty?
I type.

OMG – you’re gorgeous
. Her response is fast.

I feel ugly.
I tell her.

She sends me a link to an online article a few minutes later. I open it. It’s an article from the night of the police ball. I look at the beautiful woman in the picture. I can’t believe it’s me. I don’t see her when I look in the mirror.

Any questions? I didn’t think so.
Ari texts.

I love you, Ari!!!!!!!

And I do. I never could’ve made it this summer without her. Or Chris. Or the occasional, selective help from Molly and Joseph.

I pull up Dom’s contact info again. He, too, has become someone important in my life, someone who believed in me from the beginning.

He saw the girl at the ball, but he also found me covered in blood and beaten a couple months before. I don’t know why he and Ari believe in me the way they do, but it makes me want to cry for a different reason. A good reason. Because I know they – and Chris – care about me. They didn’t give up on me, and I’d like to think that my decision to do the right thing means I didn’t disappoint them.

I lock my screen, leave the bathroom and then pick up the journal.

Dear Diary –

I almost feel good. And scared. And totally in over my head. But almost good, too. This summer, I went through things I never could’ve imagined. But they made me learn a lot about myself and my family. I stood up to Daddy and learned that there are members of my family, like Chris, who really do care. I almost understand Molly and Joseph and how I’m trapped in the ‘game’ that my family lives in. I’m not blind to all that anymore.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave behind the pain or guilt, and I’ll always blame myself for Tanya. I’m on the right track, though. No matter how hard it gets, I know I’m doing the right thing, and I know there are people in my life that I can trust and who care about me.

I don’t know what will happen in the next few weeks. I’m terrified about what Daddy and the Connors will do once everything is public. Then again, Chris has my back, and everyone is afraid of him. Ari loves me no matter what, and in two weeks, I can go for ice cream with Dom.

Assuming I haven’t been kicked out of the family.

I close the journal. For the first time this summer, I start to think that I really will survive all this. I’m no longer afraid of being abandoned by everyone I care about, and I’m not worried about trying to please my father at the cost of my conscience. The next few months are not going to be easy, but I’m starting to believe what Dr. Thompkins and Dom told me.

I’m doing the right thing, and I’m much stronger than I thought.

I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Clenching my phone in one hand, I decide that I’m sleeping in my bed tonight for the first time since the rape.

It’s another little victory. I’ve had a few over the past several days, for which I’m grateful and proud.

I don’t know what will happen once I turn eighteen - whether or not I’ll be disowned or thrown out of the house - but for once, I’m content not worrying about how scary my future still is. Whatever insanity breaks out tomorrow, I’ll deal with it when I wake up. I need this moment of peace, and I’m going to appreciate it, no matter how short it is.