Asking for It

Page 97

And, of course, I never said a word to Dad myself. He wouldn’t have been as unkind as Mom or Chloe—but he wouldn’t have believed me either. I’d heard the things he’d said when he heard news stories about a girl found unconscious in an athletic dorm, or someone trying to prosecute the five guys who videotaped what they did with her while she was passed out. If a girl gets that drunk—if she goes to a young man’s dorm room—she knows full well what’s going to happen. She wouldn’t have done any of that in the first place if she wasn’t looking for sex. Now she’s been caught and doesn’t want people calling her a tramp, so she’s making up stories. Ruining those poor boys’ lives.

I hadn’t been in a dorm. I hadn’t been drunk. I had been watching a movie on my own sofa. But I sensed there were other excuses to be made for Anthony, excuses that would come too readily to my father’s tongue.

Hearing those words would have destroyed what little sense of security I still had. The surest way never to hear them was never to tell, and I didn’t.

Instead I clung to him tightly. To some extent, I’d always been “Daddy’s girl” while Chloe stayed closer to Mom, but that summer I spent more time with him than ever before or since. Although I never cared much about sports, I pretended to develop an interest in the Zephyrs, so he’d take me to the home games. We’d sit up in the stands, cheer on the antics of the team mascot (a guy in a nutria suit, called Boudreaux), and eat peanuts. I still remember Dad sitting next to me, one hand holding his beer, the other around my shoulders. In moments like that, I almost felt like a little girl again.

Not quite. But almost.

I can’t lose my dad. If I do, then the slender thread that binds me to my family will snap. As insane as Mom and Chloe make me sometimes, even though I’ve never forgiven them for taking Anthony’s side and never will—I don’t want to be completely alone in the world.

Then I will never, ever be able to make it up to Libby . . .

Tears blur my vision, and for a moment the road seems to vanish. Fiercely I wipe my eyes and force myself to focus. This is no time to have a wreck. I have to make the best time I can without being pulled over by the highway patrol. Even if they did pull me over, I could tell them what happened to Dad. The cops would know I was telling the truth just by looking at me. So I press down on the accelerator, and my car speeds faster into the endless black landscape ahead.

My phone rings. My entire body goes cold. It’s Chloe calling to tell me Dad’s already gone—

—but it’s not her ringtone. It’s Jonah’s.

I scoop the phone between my chin and shoulder. “Hey. ”

“Vivienne,” he says. “Where are you?”

“Outskirts of Houston. ”

“Listen—what you said back at the cabin—”

I try not to talk on the phone while I’m driving. Right now, I don’t need any more distractions. “What?”

Jonah says, “You’re right. I haven’t told you enough about my life, and I haven’t listened to you about yours. ”

“That’s not all your fault. ” It’s not like I haven’t kept certain doors locked.

As significant as this conversation could be, it mostly just makes me crazy. I can’t think about Jonah right now. I need to focus. Is this really the best time for a heart-to-heart about our relationship?

But then Jonah speaks again. “If you want things to go on like they have been, we can do that. But when I saw you leaving tonight, and you were hurting, and I couldn’t help you— Vivienne, I want something different for us. ”

Despite my frustration and fear, Jonah’s words touch me. “Exactly how do we get there from here?”

“I don’t know. All I can say right now is—if you need me, I can be there for you. I want to be with you. If that’s something that would help—if you’d take any comfort from that—just say the word. I’ll get on the first flight to New Orleans tomorrow morning. ”

“Jonah,” I whisper. Tears threaten to overcome me again.

“But if this is the wrong time—I know you have other things on your mind, and I don’t want to intrude on your family—”

“Come. ” The word comes out as a sob. “Please come. ”

He takes a deep breath. “You want me there with you?”

“Yes. I do. ”

Although Jonah sounded so unsure a few moments before, he turns decisive in an instant. “Okay. Next time you’re at a service station, text me your parents’ address. I’ll send my flight info as soon as I’ve booked the ticket. ”