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“It’s your secret. A piece of your life that’s yours to share or not to share, as you see fit. You never have to tell a soul if you don’t want to. ” Doreen has never tried to make me feel ashamed of my own silence, for which I’m deeply grateful. Sometimes I see courageous rape survivors on television or the Internet, braving clueless commentators or vicious trolls to speak out about their experiences, and my admiration of them is mirrored by my own sense of cowardice. She continues, “But keeping this secret from Jonah—giving him that kind of power, without knowing how deep your wounds lie—”
“I’ve handled it so far,” I say. Which is true.
So far, though, Jonah and I have played “softer” games. Ones where I could easily reassert myself at any second. I want more than that from him, though. I want him to tie me up. I want him to fight me, to defeat me.
I want him to own me.
When the sex between Jonah and me turned out to be so freaking amazing, I thought maybe I’d disarmed Anthony’s power over me, for good. What if I only buried the bomb deeper? As Jonah and I dig further into my darkest fantasies, we might be getting closer to the fuse.
Doreen says, “Your involvement with Jonah so far has worked well because you set boundaries. Without those boundaries—what happens?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, but I lift my chin. “I guess I’ll find out. ”
• • •
“Come on,” Shay gripes Thursday afternoon, as Carmen fusses around her. “Dr. Campbell put me on bed rest. Not in traction. ”
“Still, the closer all your stuff is, the better. ” Carmen steps back to admire her work: a semicircle of remotes, magazines, and snacks all around Shay’s place in bed. “The iPad is at one hundred percent, but the charger is here on the nightstand when you need it. And here’s my Netflix password! So you can watch movies all you want. Now, do you need some ginger ale? Maybe some apple juice?”
Shay gives me a slightly helpless look, and I stifle a giggle. She’s gone from having not nearly enough of Carmen’s attention to having way too much of it. In the long run, I think this is a good thing; Shay can no longer doubt how much Carmen truly does care about her. But right now, Carmen is getting on both our nerves.
I take Carmen by the shoulders. “Enjoy the Netflix,” I say. “And let us know if you need anything. Now Carmen and I have work to do. ”
“But we’ll be back tomorrow!” Carmen promises. “As soon as our last classes are over!”
Looks like I can’t put this off any longer. “. . . I won’t, actually. ”
Carmen looks at me, stricken, as if I’d shot Bambi’s mom. Shay simply smiles. “Got a hot date?”
She’s joking. Why did she have to pick that joke? “Well, yeah. ”
“Really? You’ve been holding out on us!” Shay perks up, excited for me—and probably relieved to no longer be the center of attention. “Who’s the guy? Anyone we know?”
“Well, you know him, Shay. And I guess you might’ve met him at the party, Carmen. Do you remember Jonah Marks? He’s one of the earth sciences professors?”
Carmen might be distracted by Shay’s condition right now, but her sharp mind never forgets a single detail. “The guy with the great arms. ”
I have to laugh. “They’re pretty good, yeah. ”
Shay, meanwhile, stares at me as if I’d suddenly begun speaking in Hindustani. “Jonah . . . Marks,” she repeats. “The same one I know. ”
“The one and only. ” I feel so shy talking about him, as if I were going out on my first date ever. “Remember how I told you Jonah helped me with that flat tire? Well, we talked some at the party—and then we ran into each other again at the charity event for Geordie’s organization—and tomorrow night we’re going to get some dinner. ”
Each and every word I said was the truth. Just not the whole truth.
“Okay. Wow. ” Shay blinks, then pulls herself together. “I’ve never talked to him much, but like I said, he’s pretty cool to work for. He’s so quiet, though. Hardly ever says a word. ”
Already I feel protective of him. “He’s not a cold person. Just reserved. ”
“Oh, sure, definitely,” Shay says, nodding quickly. She’d never trash-talk anyone. Already, I can tell, she’s trying to see Jonah through my eyes. Thank God she can’t.
Carmen says, “Jonah’s quiet? Hardly seems like your type. ”