Addicted to Him (6 page)

The first time that Phil hugged me and I realized it wasn’t a step-fatherly type of hug was almost two years ago. I was wearing shorts and a tank top and had just come home from dance practice. I thought it was weird that he asked for a hug in the middle of the day on a random Tuesday, but I figured he had a rough day. Until that point I thought of him as more of my father than Dad, even though my conscious mind would never allow me to call him by anything other than Phil, no matter how many times my mother insisted that I call him Dad.

He whispered something about how good I felt, which seemed weird, but I didn’t read much into it. Then chaos erupted in my stomach at the same time that I felt the budge in his jeans pressed against the crotch of my shorts. His hands started trailing down my back when I finally jerked away and bolted to my room.

I replayed the scene a million times in my head, wondering how I could have misread it. I was still so naïve about sex. Ethan and I had only done it three times and I wondered if losing my virginity had made some wires cross in my brain and now I thought of everything in terms of sex. I tried telling myself anything and everything to explain away the uncomfortable exchange.

Six months went by and I had written it off to me feeling guilty about the things I had been doing with Ethan. My own mother had accused me of dressing seductively, although I wasn’t convinced matching your bra and panties was the definition of seductive.

Random things started happening like Phil accidently walking in on me when I was in the shower, or Phil insisting on doing the dirty laundry and my panties consistently missing. One night Wade had a sleepover and Chastity worked late. Ethan had the flu so I stayed home. Phil popped some popcorn and suggested a movie night, even offering to watch a chick flick. It makes me sick now to think of how naïve I was and how he kept texting Chastity to make sure she was still at work so he could set the scene.

Oblivious to his plan, I gathered up our bowls and took them to the kitchen. I was washing them out in the sink when I felt him move up behind me. Fear raced through me worse than the time a rabid dog came after me when I was riding my bike.

I tried telling myself I was imagining things. I turned around, hoping to find the man who had cooked me bacon every Sunday for the past nine years, but he was gone. He was looking at my body like something off a dessert cart.

He moved in for a hug and instead of moving away from him, I stood rooted to the spot, terrified. You always think that in a harmful situation you’ll be strong enough to defend yourself, but I was powerless against the man who had practically raised me.

“God, you feel so good,” he said, crushing my breasts against his chest. I could feel his hardness and the guilt I felt about doing that to him was almost enough to make me vomit. Was this my fault? Was I doing something to make him think I wanted this? I didn’t say a word as my mind whirred in a million different directions trying to make sense out of an insane situation.

His hands made their way down my back along the edge of my sweatpants. This can’t be happening. I have to stop this. He pulsed his hardness against my leg, jamming me into the edge of the counter.

“She doesn’t let me touch her like this anymore,” he whispered. My brain was telling my arms to shove him as far away as possible but they just hung limp and powerless at my sides while he molested me.

I was screaming inside, powerless to my entire existence crumbling. Nothing in my life would ever be the same. The man that I had shared root beer floats with and made handmade Father’s Day cards for wants to have sex with me.

“Just let me have it one time,” he pleaded, his foul breath hot in my ear.

The realization that he thought I still had the power hit me like a truck and I jerked away from him. I bolted to my room and locked the door.

We never spoke of it but we both lived in fear. Him, that I would tell Chastity what he had done. And me, afraid that next time he wouldn’t stop and I wouldn’t be strong enough to fight him. I went out of my way to make sure that I was never alone with him, sometimes going so far as sneaking out my window and hiding in the bushes until my mother got home then sneaking back in.

I hate myself sometimes for feeling so affected by this. I’ve seen television talk shows with people who were actually raped for years that seem to be faring better than I am. What makes me think I’m so special? Some days I wonder if what happened was really even that big of a deal. I guess it has fucked with my head pretty bad.

I never considered telling my mother. I don’t know why. I guess maybe because even though it had actually happened to me I was having a hard time digesting it, so how could I expect someone else to? I was terrified that she would say it was my fault and banish me from her life forever. I realize now that I probably would have been better off, but I couldn’t help it, I needed her love and acceptance more than I needed air.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever tell anyone. I’m past the point of thinking that this would split her and Phil up because I know how good she is at seeing things in a way that works into her world. There is no punishment I want for Phil. I guess if I could have anything, it would be an explanation. Why? How could he destroy my world so cruelly? What did he think was going to happen? Didn’t he love me at all?

I’ve allowed myself to fantasize about how Dad would react to the news. I’ve conjured up mental pictures of him smashing Phil’s jaw in, knowing full well that it will never happen because I’ll never tell him. Sometimes I worry that the secret is swimming through my body like a venomous snake ready to strike at any time, but I keep thinking the more distance I put between Phil and I, the sooner I can kill the snake myself.

I’m sure Phil thinks that he got off scot-free by now and I hate it that he’s right.

****

My first week at Dad’s flies by. I usually start my morning off by calling Wade. I wait until I know that Chastity has dropped him off at the sitter, a neighbor that secretly despises my mom, so she doesn’t mind me calling her house. After getting his daily report, I spend my days relaxing on the back porch, sipping iced tea and tearing through Lisa’s collection of romance novels. I had almost forgotten how much I love to read. I love all the happy endings at the end of Lisa’s books but I’ve started craving something different that I won’t find in Dad’s horror novels either. Then I remember the awesome two story library that Dad pointed out the time we went to get ice cream and no matter how terrified I am of wrecking their car, I know I have to see the inside of that library for myself.

I text Dad to make sure it’s okay first and he tells me where Lisa keeps her library card so that I can use it until he can get me my own. I grab her card off the top of her desk in the office and head out to the SUV. I plug the address of the library from the card into the GPS and back carefully out of the driveway. I drive like a grandma the entire way to the library, not caring if I get passed by people on bikes. I’m not going to let Dad down by putting a dent in his car when he’s trusted me enough to borrow it.

I make it safely to the library and park in the shade near a clump of trees as far away from any other cars as I can. Three spaces away is a vintage Mustang whose owner obviously has the same idea. I make my way toward the library, marveling at a water fall made out of a pile of brass books in front. I head through the front door and am immediately enveloped by the smell of crisp pages in leather bindings. I feel a happiness that I barely even recognize.

I wander around, taking in the columns and columns of books reaching to the ceiling. Plush couches and chairs are scattered around for people to relax on while perusing their reading material. If I lived here, I would spend every free moment at this place.

I head toward the fiction stacks, surprised when I start hearing several tiny voices. I peek around the corner to see at least thirty kids sitting criss-cross applesauce on the carpet enraptured by a librarian, dressed up as a princess, reading to them. Every few seconds they will laugh, gasp, or shout as she narrates the story with fervor. They are all so adorable that the scene immediately makes me miss Wade. I can’t help but wonder if Chastity is looking after him. I’ve taught him to be independent, just in case I wasn’t around, but he’s still only eight. I feel a pang of guilt hit me, knowing that I basically abandoned him this summer.

I feel someone watching me and I scan the crowd locking eyes with the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen. He’s sitting in a rocking chair with a little boy on one knee and a little girl on the other. He’s wearing khaki cargo shorts and a black T-shirt advertising some burger place. His thick, tan arms are protectively encircling the kids. He tosses his shoulder-length blond hair, or girl hair as Wade would say, out of his eyes and smiles, making me realize I’ve been staring at him like an idiot for the last several seconds. I bolt behind a stack of books, mortified.

I continue on to the fiction section, hating that I can’t behave like a normal teenager. I used to be confident, and a few years ago I would have had no problem walking up to a guy like that and introducing myself. He might have even been interested in me. But considering I look like something out of a zombie movie and I act like someone with a severe social disorder, I don’t think I need to worry about making a love connection with a guy like that.

I push the hot stranger out of my mind and busy myself looking for the perfect book to keep me busy for the next few days. Dad has been so afraid that I’ll be bored but I’ve actually been in heaven having so much time to myself. I’m so used to taking care of Wade, and the house, and hiding out from Phil that I don’t have much down time. I pull a particularly fat tome off a shelf, read the blurb on the back and know that it will be perfect.

I make my way back to the circulation desk, digging Lisa’s library card out of one of the pockets in my camo shorts. I hand the smiling clerk my card and book then wait as she scans everything and stamps the due date inside the book.

I feel something hit the back of my leg and turn around to see a crooked-toothed little girl glaring at me as she continues to swing her book bag into my leg. I instantly recognize her as one of the children on the hot guy’s lap. I get nervous when I realize he is standing right behind her.

“Ava, stop it,” the gorgeous stranger says, pulling the little girl back so she can’t swing her bag at me. “Apologize to the pretty lady right now.”

Pretty? Did this amazing looking guy actually just refer to me as pretty?

“You told me not to talk to strangers,” the little girl says defiantly.

I bite my lip to keep from laughing, imagining the same kind of smart ass logic to come out of Wade’s mouth.

“It’s okay when I’m with you,” he explains. The little boy next to him looks bored and starts rifling through the selection of free bookmarks on the circulation desk.

I turn away from them to take my book that the librarian is holding out for me. “That’s due back in two weeks. Thank you, Lisa,” she says, catching me off-guard. I smile, not bothering to correct her since it doesn’t really matter anyway. I start to walk away when I feel someone pulling on the end of my shirt. I turn around to see the little girl staring back at me.

“Say it,” the hot guy prompts her while dumping her overflowing book bag onto the desk for check out.

“My brother is the boss of me when my mom’s not around and he says I have to say sorry. Sorry,” she says, rolling her eyes dramatically. Her bouncy blond curls match her older brothers as do her blazing green eyes. If she is this spunky now, I can’t imagine what she’s going to be like as a tween in a few years.

“I appreciate the heartfelt apology,” I tell her, flashing a look to her brother. He smiles lopsidedly while digging his library card out of his wallet. He looks flustered and I recognize the feeling. I know how exhausting looking after one eight-year-old can be, I can’t imagine having double duty, although the little boy hasn’t moved from his side for a second so he doesn’t look like he’s much trouble.

I turn and make my way out of the library and out to the car. As I get closer I notice something white all over the hood of Dad’s SUV. I nearly scream when I realize that I must have gotten bombarded by an entire flock of geese because the hood is just one big white splotch of bird crap.

“This cannot be happening,” I mutter, unlocking the car. I dig around in the ashtray and glove compartment to see if maybe they left some spare change so I can take the car to the car wash. I think about the fifty dollar bill that Dad left me last week that I still haven’t done anything with. I guess I could drive back to the house and get the money and then use the rest of it to put gas in the car. I hate to drive the car that much though out of fear something else will happen.

“Holy bird blowout,” I hear a laughing voice behind me shout. Of course it’s the hot stranger with his adorable twin brother and sister getting a kick out of my bird diarrhea-covered car.

“I know, right? This is literally the first time I’ve taken my dad’s car and this is what happens.”

“I think I’ve got something that will help,” he says, unlocking the trunk on the vintage red Mustang parked a few spots down. “Ava, go sit down over there.”

Henry follows him, his little hand tucked into his older brother’s pocket as Ava straggles over to me, looking very inconvenienced.

“You shouldn’t have parked by the tree,” she points out.

“Yeah, I kind of get that now,” I chuckle, loving her bluntness.

“My brother will fix it. He takes really good care of his car,” she points out. I notice that all three of them are wearing the same T-shirt in different colors advertising a local burger joint. I wonder if he’s dressed them alike in case one of them gets lost. I used to do that with Wade when he was smaller.

He returns with a spray bottle filled with something and a chamois. He starts spraying down the hood of the SUV and gently wipes away the present the birds left me. I can’t stop watching his calves tighten as he bends over the hood and his strong arms move back and worth wiping the hood clean. I can’t remember even feeling like this about Ethan when we first started dating.