No Such Thing as Perfect (22 page)

“When did all this happen, Lily?”

“October 26.”

“So nearly two months ago,” Sam confirms.

“Yeah. I told you – I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

“Why now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you come to us now? Why not before?”

“It was my fault. I didn’t want to upset anyone. I felt sick and I couldn’t leave my room. But it was my fault. He was only there because I’d slept with him before, I’d never said no before.”

“And tonight?”

“He’s at my house. My family doesn’t care. They’re mad at me for breaking up with him. I heard him talking and he said he was at a party and there was a girl... he said she took ‘convincing.’ I don’t know. Maybe it was nothing, but what if she... I just don’t want to find out that he didn’t stop one day, and if I’d said something...”

Sam closes his notepad and leans back in his chair. He looks at me with the expression I wish I’d seen even once on my father – care, worry, and the desire to protect. I wonder if Sam has a daughter.

“I’m going to be honest with you,” he starts.

“I know you can’t do anything.”

“We’re going to talk to him, to get a statement from him. Based on that, you can decide if you want to press charges, how far you want to take it. In these cases, you’re right – we often can’t do much. Not because we don’t want to, but it’s hard to prove. You had a previous relationship. He’d broken up with you. He could claim you’re saying this because you want revenge for him breaking it off.”

“Why would I do that?” I ask.

“I’m not saying you would. I just want you to know what kinds of things people say.”

“They’ll say it’s my fault. I know.”

“It’s not, Lily. There’s no physical evidence, because he stopped, but what he did isn’t okay. You can press charges, but chances are it’ll be a long process and I don’t know what you want to achieve, and a large part of me wants to tell you to go for it. But I also want you to know. It’ll be news in town, maybe even outside of town. They’ll dig up everything about you, everything they can use. You said you have a boyfriend now?”

I nod. “Jack.”

“I apologize for asking, but have you slept with him?”

“I have.”

“It will come up.”

“You think I should just let it go?” I ask.

“No. I don’t. I’m just preparing you.”

“I don’t want to have him arrested. I’m not pressing charges. I want it to die, to go away. I don’t want my life to be on hold for him. I just want him to know I didn’t forget. I want someone to know what kind of person he is... If he does it again and I didn’t tell you... Will it be kept somewhere?”

“Like I said, we’ll follow up. I want you to consider your options. I don’t want you to say you don’t want to press charges yet, because you’ve given yourself that route by coming here tonight.”

“Who’s going to know I came here?”

“We’ll try to keep it between you and Derek, but I can’t promise anything. We’ll meet with him at his house.”

“I understand.”

“You’re not going to hear this from many people, especially if you decide to press charges. But coming here? No matter what people tell you, Lily, this is a hard choice to make and I think you should know that. There are a lot of girls who don’t.”

“I just don’t want him to do it again,” I say.

We wrap up the interview and Sam walks me to my car. It’s the middle of the night and it snowed while I was inside. I dread the morning, of what comes next once Derek knows I was here, of what happens if my mother finds out.

“I have a daughter,” Sam says as he finishes helping me clear my windshield. “She’s nine. If anyone ever...” He doesn’t finish, shaking his head, and walking back into the station.

I
’m trying to get up the nerve to go downstairs. I can hear my grandparents admiring the decorations and my aunt is asking Jon about school. My mother ironed my clothes this morning and I watched her silently, thinking about my night and wondering if Derek would tell anyone. She’s not speaking to me already, because I told her I plan on spending tomorrow with Jack, but it’s Christmas Eve and we have company and it’s on me to be social. I send Jack a quick text telling him I miss him and check my clothes one more time.

“Lily, you look so pretty,” my grandmother says when I make it downstairs. “Are you still seeing that boy?”

“No, I-”

“She thinks she’s too good for him,” my mom interjects. “Went away to college and she’s better than everyone.” With her comment securely in place, she goes off to make sure my brother cleaned his room or something.

“We broke up,” I tell my grandmother. “I met someone else, but he’s not why. It just kind of happened.”

“I’m sure he’s a nice boy,” she says. “And I’m sure you made the right choice.”

“Thanks.” I reach for a paper plate, loading it with snacks, although I’m not hungry. Food is a weapon in gatherings like this. Get asked too many questions and stick a meatball in your mouth to avoid them.

It’s only a few hours
, I remind myself. There are enough people here to make me invisible and my mother doesn’t have time to focus on me.
What about the next month
? I ask my inner voice, but this time, conveniently, it has no reply.

While everyone is distracted, I make my way to the living room, hoping to get a few moments of peace. I’ve barely put down my plate, though, before Jon sits beside me on the couch and turns on the TV. There’s nothing on, but he flips through the channels anyway. I almost tell him to just pick something, to stop the flashing stream of noise and images, but the doorbell rings before I can. I don’t know whom we’re still expecting, but the door opening and the noise of greetings float in from the other room while my brother continues his flipping.

I knew it would come, and the fact that it happens this fast is probably better. Get it over with and all that. But hearing his voice, listening to my mother invite him to eat something, hearing him say he just needs to talk to me...

My mouth is dry when he enters the room, my tongue sticking to my teeth when I try to pretend this is a casual visit.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

“Start talking.”

“I’d prefer to go somewhere less crowded.”

“I can leave,” Jon offers, abandoning me in the living room with Derek, while everyone stands in the hall beyond. I don’t want to go any further, though.

“I said everything I had to with the cops,” I tell him.

“Why would you say that about me, Lily? You wanted it. You were desperate for it for years.”

“Don’t put this on me.”

He comes closer, but I stay sitting. I won’t let him intimidate me.

“Do you realize how much you screwed things up? My parents are pissed,” he says.

“Maybe you should’ve listened.”

“I stopped. I didn’t do anything to you.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I finally look up at him, make eye contact. If we weren’t in my house, around other people, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me. “You made me feel obligated. You knew I was nervous, that I didn’t want to, that I wasn’t okay with it. What about Prom, Derek? What about the things you made me do, the things you told me you’d leave me if I didn’t do?”

“You did them, Lily. Stop pretending you’re not a slut just because you want your new boyfriend to think better of you.”

“You really think that’s what this is about?” I ask.

“Well, why now?”

“Because you can’t do this, Derek. You can’t just take and demand and get away with it. You don’t have the right to make anyone feel the way you made me feel, and I wanted to make sure you know that. I wanted you to know that if it happens again, people will know what kind of person you are.”

He sits on the couch with me and I lean away from him, but he reaches out and grips my arm, digging his fingers in hard. His voice is a whisper, but the threat isn’t quiet. “Listen, bitch, you’re nothing and if you pursue this, I swear I will ruin you.”

“I’m not pursuing it,” I tell him. “But if you ever threaten me again, if you ever even look at me again, I swear to God, I will. You can ruin me all you like, Derek, because if you ever try anything like this again, I won’t be quiet next time.”

“This is your idea of quiet? I had to defend myself to cops on Christmas Eve.”

“Maybe you should learn to listen a little better then. Now get your fucking hands off of me.”

After he gets up, I try to let the nausea fade. I didn’t want him to see it, to know it hurt, but once his voice is only an echo in the hallway, I pull my knees up to myself and try to breathe slowly. A year. I gave him a year of my life, and that’s only if I don’t think of all the time I wasted thinking about him. How does a person spend this much time not seeing?

“Lily, did you see Derek?” my mom asks from the doorway. “I invited him for dinner, but he said you wouldn’t want him to stay. Why would you say that? Derek’s-”

“No, Mom, he’s not. He’s not at all,” I say. I don’t know what I expect – maybe for her to see the tears I can’t keep back and to recognize them as important? Maybe for her to listen to me, to ask what happened, to try not to judge? I just want something to happen besides more of the same.

“I don’t understand why you can’t behave. Derek’s a nice boy and you’re being ridiculous.”

The dizziness is like a waterfall, spilling over me as I stand.
Do not show weakness to her
, I tell myself. I won’t fall over. I won’t let her bother me. I make it to the doorway where she stands before looking up. She stares at me and there’s nothing behind her gaze. She’s empty; my mother is empty. I could stand here for a hundred years and she would never see it.

****

I
swore I wouldn’t run away, but it’s Christmas Eve and I’m sitting at Abby’s in tears. I told my mom everything, right there in the living room, and she just walked away, telling me to get out if I was going to ruin everything. I can’t care. I can’t let her do this anymore. I wish this were a movie and we would have a big reconciliation and she’d hug me and tell me she loved me, but my life isn’t the place for those things. As far as she’s concerned, not only did I fail, but I also caused problems. When I stood in the doorway and tried to say goodbye to my father, who just looked sad as I left, she told me that if I pursued this with Derek, I could find another place to live for good.

“What can I do?” Abby asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing. Thanks for letting me wait here. Jack should be here soon.” I texted him right away, but I didn’t tell him why. I just asked him to come and he’s on his way to get me.

“I’m glad you went,” she says.

“To the cops?”

“Yeah. I know you’re not sure, but even if you do let it go, people know.
Someone
knows, Lily. It makes it not your problem anymore. And he’ll always know it’s there. It’s not going to go away and maybe he’ll think next time.”

“Maybe.” I suppose this should feel like a victory, but it just feels like my boyfriend was an asshole and my mom hates me. I don’t regret going to the police; I only regret that it happened at all. “She just stared at me, Abby. She looked right through me and all she was worried about was that I messed up her plans. What the hell is wrong with her?”

“Oh, Jesus, Lily. Short or long list?”

At least it makes me laugh. It’s an ironic and somewhat depressing laugh, but it’s still a laugh. Nineteen years – and most of them spent trying to please someone who is incapable of being pleased. My best friend has been here for more than half of those years and she’s seen it all, but she never pushed. There are likely people who would be upset with Abby, mad that she knew and she didn’t force me to face it, but I’m not. I wasn’t ready to see it and I would’ve lost her, too. I would’ve shut her out because I didn’t want to know.

“I’m lucky I’ve got you to put up with my crap,” I tell her.

“I’m your friend. It comes with the territory. And now, it’s Christmas Eve and your super amazing boyfriend is on his way and your mom and that asshat, Derek, aren’t going to ruin even one more second of your life, okay?”

I nod, wiping the tears away, knowing it’s not that simple, but wanting it to be. Even for one night. I could have yelled at my mom, could have made a scene, could have told her everything she was, but it was energy I would have exerted on someone with no substance. Abby’s right; they don’t warrant that kind of effort.

“Abby? Lily? Do you want some ham?” her mom calls up to us. They’ve been waiting to eat, waiting for me, because I came over and interrupted their night.

“Sorry about messing up your dinner,” I say to Abby after she yells back that we’ll be right down.

“There are three of us, and a ham. It can wait. Don’t be ridiculous.”

I don’t want to eat their food, but Abby’s mom insists and fills a plate full of ham and potatoes for me. She doesn’t ask what happened, and Abby’s dad just asks about school and my classes and everyone pretends this is perfectly normal, that there’s always some sad, broken girl sitting at the table on the holidays. I easily slip into their reality, though, and it feels healthy to tell them about what I’ve been reading and the paper and Kristen and Lyle. So healthy that I don’t see the lights in the driveway, don’t register the knock on the door.

Jon stands on the steps, segmented by the screen door, which my mom would say should have been swapped out by now for a storm door, and slowly gathering snow. The white flurries spin under the porch light.

“What are you doing here?” I ask from the other side of the screen. Abby’s parents take their food and go somewhere else and she tells me she’ll be upstairs if I need her.

“I heard what you told Mom.”

“Look, I know. I’m a failure, right? How dare I say anything about poor, perfect Derek, when it’s my own fault he didn’t want me. It’s Christmas Eve and I’m not coming home, not now and maybe not ever, and I don’t want to hear it, Jon. I don’t want to listen to your excuses and I’m not going to stand there and have her blame me.”

“I don’t...” He pauses and flicks the snow off his shoulders and shakes it from his hair. “I should have known. He’s a dick, but who cares? He was just my friend. And when you started dating him, it was weird and I didn’t know how I felt about it, because I knew what he was like, but you were happy. I thought you were happy with him.”