He stared at my hand for a moment before he looked up at me and said, “That’s a nice skirt.”
I was so desperate for more praise, I could hardly speak or breathe. But no matter what position I sat in or how many times I scratched an itch, he never said another word to me that night. Over the next twenty-two months, things went on the same way. Occasionally, I’d find myself alone with him and, occasionally, he would compliment me, but he never touched me or made any verbal propositions. Still, I knew he was interested. And I had convinced myself that everything would change when I turned eighteen. And it did.
Rory and I drove to Salem for my eighteenth birthday. We actually went on May 17th, three days after my birthday, because we had to wait until the weekend. We snuck a bottle of Mom’s whiskey out there and got drunk before we went to the Enchanted Forest theme park. It was the best birthday ever. Once we were sober, we drove back to Rory’s and got ready for bed.
About one in the morning, I got out of bed to go to the restroom when I saw a faint glow coming from the staircase. I decided to creep downstairs and see if it was James, and it was. He was in the downstairs office with his computer on. I tiptoed in, but he looked up from his laptop immediately. His eyes scanned my body for a few seconds before he told me to close the door.
I closed the door and locked it just to be safe, then I slowly walked around the desk. I was a little disappointed when I saw him working on a legal brief instead of watching porn. But the disappointment melted away when he beckoned me to sit on his lap.
He spoke to me softly, asking how my birthday went and how I felt about going away to UO after the summer. With my head resting on his shoulder, he stroked my leg with the tips of his fingers as he spoke. He told me about the case he was working on and it made me feel smart. But I knew if I didn’t make a move, he would probably send me upstairs unsatisfied.
The scent of his skin was crisp and cool like he had just showered, so I took a chance and kissed his neck. He froze and I began to wonder if I had misread his kindness. Maybe he was just comforting me, indulging my schoolgirl crush on my birthday. But then I felt something going on beneath me and I knew he was getting excited.
He told me multiple times that this would only happen once. That he was only doing this because he knew how much I wanted him. And that it could never happen again. But I didn’t care.
Part of me believed it would be the last time, but a larger part of me knew I could make it happen again. And I did.
Why do you think I got a summer job thirty-five minutes away from home? James and I would meet at a hotel where he would pay cash, but I put my debit card on file and used my name to register. I was crazy with jealousy when I wasn’t with him and I was miserable with guilt every time we parted. I knew I couldn’t ask him to leave his wife, so we just never spoke of those kinds of things. When we weren’t screwing, we talked about work.
But the worst part was knowing what would happen if Rory ever found out. I reasoned with myself that I would end the affair before it got too serious and way before Rory or her mom found out. When in reality I knew that I was already in way over my head. I had loved James from afar for two years. Now that I had him, I knew I wouldn’t be able to give him up. And in a sick way, this also made me feel closer to Rory.
She’s loved you since she was eleven years old. And I know that if you two ever got together, it would be a dream come true for her. That was the way it was for me, only I was acting out a disgusting schoolgirl fantasy. I was on the verge of destroying a family. And not just anyone’s family, my best friend’s family.
I hated myself throughout the whole thing, but I couldn’t stop. Then Rory and I went off to UO and I tried to pretend to be happy. I even tried going out on a few dates, but I hated all those guys almost as much as I hated myself. Still, I kept pretending.
Then Rory asked me if I wanted to spend Thanksgiving with her family. I knew I could split my day between our house and Rory’s house if I played my cards right with Mom. So I began to get excited at the prospect of possibly being alone with James again. But when Rory and I arrived the Saturday before Thanksgiving, he was very cold with me.
I thought he was just doing it so as not to arouse suspicion, but when I managed to catch him alone in the garage later that night, he told me very clearly that it was over between us. I insisted that it didn’t have to be. That I could keep it a secret as long as he wanted me to, but he was adamant that the affair couldn’t continue.
Still, I didn’t believe him. I went inside the house and cried in the bathroom for a little while. Then I decided I’d just try to show him what he would be missing. I did pathetic things like sitting across from him at the dinner table and squeezing my breasts together just enough for them to appear larger. I would wait in the bathroom until I heard him coming out of his bedroom, then I’d walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. I’m not certain, but I think Rory’s mom began to notice what I was doing, and if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, I began texting nude pictures of myself to the pay-as-you-go cell phone he bought over the summer. I think the number was disconnected, but I kept sending them in the hope that it wasn’t.
When Thanksgiving finally came, I tried to sit next to him, but he decided to change seats so he could “carve the turkey at the head of the table.” That was when it finally started to sink in that I had been used.
He never told me he loved me, but he always made it a point to tell me how beautiful I looked and how much he missed me when we were apart. I mistook this for love. But I was finally starting to realize that I had spent more than two years of my life loving someone who would never love me back. Even worse, I’d spent two years of my life dreaming of a life that would ruin my best friend if it were to come to fruition.
I’ve spent the past week absolutely sick with myself. I hate knowing that I grew up to be as sick as Dad. Absolutely no respect for the sanctity of marriage. I don’t want to live with what I’ve done. And I don’t want Rory to live with it either. That’s why you can never show her this letter. And you need to promise me that you won’t punish her for what James and I did.
I knew what I was doing, which only makes me even more guilty. Please don’t take it out on Rory. She’s the victim in this whole fucked-up scenario. All she’s ever done is love me and trust me, and I couldn’t bear losing her over something like this.
I’m sorry that you had to find out this way. And I’m sorry that you’re the one who had to find me. Please know that I didn’t want to hurt you. I just didn’t want to hurt Rory any more than I already have. Please help Mom and Rory get through this.
I love you always.
* * *
Hallie
Eight years ago, September 23rd
* * *
I haven’t been to the Gallery Theater since I was eight, so it’s been eight years since the last time I came with my parents. Hallie has never been there in the five years since she moved to McMinnville with her mom and Houston, so I’m sure this visit will be more interesting than my last. Hallie and I get tickets for Oklahoma at 7:30 p.m., then we get in line behind a family of four to get inside the theater.
Hallie’s quiet as she stares at the family, then she turns to me and leans in conspiratorially. “What is it like to love someone for as long as you’ve loved Houston?”
I’m a bit taken aback by this question. It’s not the type of light banter that usually happens while standing in line at the theater. We reach the door and an usher takes our tickets, then leads us through the lobby and to our seats. The whole time, I sense Hallie anxiously awaiting my reply to her question. I don’t know what’s prompted her to ask me this, unless she has a crush that she hasn’t told me about. But Hallie and I share everything.
The usher leads us to a pair of seats three rows back from the main stage. Once he’s gone, Hallie turns to me with a smile on her face, awaiting my reply.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess it’s… crippling.”
Her sm
ile disappears. “Really?”
I think about Houston and how much I’ve missed him since he left for college last year. And how every time I see him at Hallie’s house during holidays, my stomach cramps up and my thoughts get all jumbled. How I fall asleep most nights with thoughts of what it would be like to have those feelings reciprocated. And wake up with my heart broken when I realize the happiness I felt moments ago was just a dream.
“Really. It’s awful.”
Her shoulders slump as she lets out a soft sigh. “I want to be in love.”
“With someone in particular?”
“No, I just want to feel like there’s more than this, you know?”
I chuckle, feeling slightly confused. “No, I don’t. More than what?”
She raises her hands, palms up, to indicate the stage cloaked in a velvety red curtain in front of us. “This! This place where we have to pretend to be someone we’re not.” She turns to me with a glint of electricity in her blue eyes. “It’s not fair that you have to pretend you don’t love my brother because he’s nineteen and you’re sixteen.”
“Well, that’s not the only reason. I asked you to never tell him because I don’t want to get hurt. Then things would get awkward between you and me. Losing my best friend would be worse than never having Houston at all.”
She stares at me for a moment, then her mouth curls into that signature half smile she shares with Houston. “That’s completely corny.”
I roll my eyes and stare at the stage. “Whatever. I guess I’m corny, but I stand by what I said. Your friendship is more important to me than taking a chance with Houston.”
Her smile disappears and she sits back in her seat. “Friendship is more important.” She repeats these words and I get a weird feeling she’s not telling me something. “It’s the most important thing.”
“Without friendship, there’s no love,” I reply, though the phrase surprises even me.
Hallie nods in agreement. “No friendship, no love.” She sighs as she ponders this, then she turns to me. “I think you and Houston are gonna end up together.”
I try not to let her see how hearing these words come from her mouth makes me absurdly happy. “I doubt it. I’ll never have the courage to make that happen.”
“Maybe you won’t, but maybe someone else will.”
My eyes widen. “You wouldn’t!”
“No, not me. But you never know. Maybe one of these days Houston will finally get a clue and make it happen on his own.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “It would be kind of hard for him to get a clue when he’s ninety miles away.”
“Yeah, but you’ll be going to UO in a couple of years. Maybe you can show up at a party he’s at and pretend to be drunk. Then he’ll carry you back to your dorm and—Ew. I don’t want to imagine that.”
I give her a playful shove. “Stop it.”
She laughs. “Yeah, you might not love him so much if you knew he used to sleep with my mom every time he got sick.”
“That’s adorable,” I say, feigning a dreamy smile.
She cocks one eyebrow. “The last time he did it he was thirteen.”
I imagine six-foot-four Houston lying in bed next to his petite momma. “Still adorable.”
“You’re sick.”
I laugh and we continue chatting until the seats fill up around us. When the curtains part, I hold my breath, as if I’m one of the actors on the stage waiting for my cue. Well, according to Hallie, I am an actor. I guess she’s right. I’ve gotten very good at pretending.
I pretend I don’t love Houston. I pretend I’m going to UO so I can study, when the only reason I’m going is to be near him. And worst of all, I pretend not to be afraid that I’ll never love anyone else.
After the show, Hallie and I walk home together arm-in-arm. It’s a bit chilly, but the sky is clear, so we don’t bother rushing home. We take our time, just breathing in the crisp autumn air and chatting about the play. We’re a block away from my house when I remember that Hallie never answered my question earlier.
“Hey, you never told me if you have a crush on someone. Is that why you were asking me about Houston?”
A small part of me is hoping she asked me about him because he mentioned me to her. But I know that’s next to impossible, so I make sure not to look too eager for her response. Still, the demure smile she’s wearing as she thinks about this question is making me nervous. I wish she would just hurry up and answer me.
“No. I don’t have a crush on anyone other than Justin Timberlake.”
“Justin Timberlake doesn’t count,” I reply, shaking my head both at Hallie and at myself for thinking that Hallie would keep the identity of her crush from me. “He’s an alien. It’s not possible for a human to be born that hot, with that much talent.”
We arrive in front of my two-story house on Evans Street and Hallie tucks her light-brown hair behind her ear as she stares at the upstairs windows. “Then I guess the answer is no. But that might change. We are juniors now.”
“Is that supposed to be some sort of achievement? I thought turning sixteen was only a big deal in Texas.”
“Everything’s a big deal in Texas. Especially Justin Timberlake.” She winks as she begins to walk away. “Call me later.”
She heads off in the direction of her house around the corner and I can’t help but wonder if Hallie is lying to me. She’s stretched the truth before, but only to spare my feelings. Maybe Houston did say something about me, something about how I’ll never have a chance with him.
My chest hurts just considering this. I stroll up the walkway toward the front steps and my dad opens the front door before I even reach the porch. “Hey, sweetheart. How was the show?”
I think about the amazing costumes and the energy of being that close to the performers. “It was great,” I reply, taking off my jacket as I adjust to the warmth of the living room.
My dad takes my coat and I sit on the sofa to reflect on how much I liked the play. Then I think of the conversation Hallie and I had before the show about the importance of friendship. And I find solace in knowing that it doesn’t matter if Houston asked Hallie about me, because what I said to her today is all that matters. I’d rather keep pretending not to love Houston than risk getting my heart broken and possibly losing her as a friend.
Because Hallie and I are more than friends. She’s the sister I never had and the only person I don’t have to pretend with.
No friendship, no love.
August 27th
* * *
Rory closes her eyes when she finishes reading the letter. I hold my breath waiting for her response. The tears fall silently down her cheeks and I want to pull her in my arms and hold her until I’ve soaked up all her pain.
She opens her eyes and throws the letter at me as she leaps from the sofa and runs to the bathroom. Skippy and I race after her, but she slams the door to keep us out. The sound of her vomiting makes my stomach ache. But the sobs that come between each chorus of retching make me absolutely sick with myself.
I knock on the door when I hear a few seconds of silence, but her response echoes in the toilet bowl. “Go away!”
She’s dry heaving now, but she manages to tell me to get out a couple more times. If it were anyone but Rory I would listen. I push the bathroom door open slowly and she’s sobbing with her cheek resting on her arm, which is resting on the toilet seat. Skippy peeks inside the bathroom, sees her near the toilet, then turns around to go back to the living room.
I kneel next to her and she looks up at me, her eyes full of absolute despair. “I’m sorry I didn’t show you the letter sooner,” I begin, “but you can’t tell me you don’t understand why.”
She covers her mouth as she sits up and leans back against the tub. “I don’t understand any of this.” Her shoulders fold inward as she tries to hold back the sobbing and retching. “And I don’t know if I even want to understand it. I’m so disgusted with myself. I’m so stupid.”
&n
bsp; “You’re not stupid. You’re the only smart person in this whole fucked-up situation.”
“No, I’m an idiot. I’ve spent thirteen years loving someone who was incapable of loving me. How, Houston? How could you pretend to love me for so long?”
I clench my jaw as I look into her eyes. “I wasn’t pretending,” I reply. “I couldn’t ask you to choose between me and your father. Just because our relationship was built on a lie, it doesn’t mean I didn’t love the fuck out of you… I still do and I always will.”
She rests her elbows on her knees and closes her eyes as she covers her face. “I knew you were hiding something from me, but I never expected this.” She draws in a long, stuttered breath, then she looks up at me with a question in her eyes. “You said our relationship was built on a lie. What does that mean?”
I let out a deep sigh as I prepare to tell her the most damaging secret of them all. “When I asked you to move in with me, I hadn’t read Hallie’s letter yet. But after we went back to my apartment, I sat in the bathroom with the letter and tried not to punch the mirror as I read Hallie’s words. I’ve never been so mad in my life. I wanted to burst into the bedroom where you were sleeping and take my anger out on you even though Hallie had just begged me not to in that letter.”
Rory shakes her head as she covers her face again. I wish her father were here to see what a frightening mess all of us have made of this beautiful girl. This innocent girl whose only sin was to love and trust with all her heart.
“But I decided that instead of hurting you right there and then, I would bide my time. And I’d hurt you when you least expected it. I wanted you to hurt as much as Hallie did, then maybe your dad would feel the gravity of what he’d done to my sister. Maybe then he’d feel just a drop of the pain I was feeling.”