Again (25 page)

Carter

After
class we stood outside, a few feet away from the bustling quad. Luckily we were
able to escape without Professor Parker asking about the unfolding soap opera
that had occurred in our row, but Kate’s ex-boss and ex-boyfriend would surely
fill him in later.

The
sunny day following us to class earlier seemed to be mocking us now—practically
laughing in only the way sun can after shit has hit the fan. Its happy, abundant
light, such an opposite of the huge black hole happening in your actual life.

Veronica
and I stood on either side of Kate like crutches. We weren’t touching her, but
were close enough to catch her if she fell. She looked like she might. Her skin
was bleached. Her eyes were wide, her breathing irregular. Even her hair seemed
like it was standing on end, the tips of it shining in the mocking sun.

It
was like she had seen a ghost, the ghost of her past.

My
stomach wrestled into a knot. I thought about Jeanie. It must have been how she
felt when she saw me, too.

“What
the hell am I going to do now?” Kate asked, words finally coming.

She
wasn’t looking for an answer, which was good, because clearly the two of us
didn’t have one. She was asking the way people do when asking is all you have
any control over.

She
was asking because what else was there to say?

I
was only starting to appreciate the gravity of what had occurred. The fake life
Kate had made real could, with one word from Dawn or her father, totally
collapse.

“Maybe
they won’t tell anyone,” Veronica finally said, touching her arm.

It
was clear Kate couldn’t even feel it. Her eyes were emptier than ever.

I
was glad Veronica responded, because the other thing I understood about what
had happened was that I might be asking the same question Kate had depending on
the outcome of all this.

Her
fate was now mine.

“Are
you kidding?” Kate spit. “Dawn gets to fuck over the woman who fucked her dad
and screwed over her mom. You think she wouldn’t? And David…” She cradled her
head in her trembling hands.

She
didn’t know what else to say and we didn’t either. The only thing that followed
was the sound of our breathing.

I
understood forgiveness. There were a lot of things Dawn would probably have to
do before she got there.

“I
can talk to Dawn,” I tried.

“She
doesn’t want to talk to you on a good day,” Kate said, “and today is the vicious
opposite of good.”

“Well,
we could keep standing next to the quad,” Veronica said, trying to smile.

Kate
was stone. “Trust me. She will say something and even if she doesn’t, you think
David won’t?”

“You
can just stay in my room,” I said. It wasn’t a solution, but it was all I had, facing
the fear of possibly losing her. Lock Kate away so she couldn’t be taken from
me, so our life together could continue.

So
her life here could continue.

It
was stupid, but Kate and I had shared our truth. She had accepted me and I had
accepted her. Shouldn’t that have counted for something?

“I’m
not only going to lose my scholarship. I’m going to lose everything,” she said
quickly, but she wasn’t crying. Maybe she was beyond tears.

“You
might not lose anything,” Veronica said.

I
couldn’t say the same. As a law student I knew even if impersonating yourself
wasn’t against the law, fraud definitely was. Accepting money under false
pretenses was fraud. It was clear Kate did too.

“You
won’t lose me. You will never lose me,” I said, taking her hand.

“See,”
Veronica said, “and I’m still here.”

“What
kind of luck do I have that I got housed with the daughter of the guy I was
having an affair with?” Kate asked.

She
still wasn’t asking for an answer from us. Maybe she wanted someone to realize
how fucked up this really was.

Tristan
would say that statistically it was probably less likely than falling in love
with a woman who was seven years older than you. I guess I could have asked him,
but it was life. How amazing things happened and could be taken away just as
easily.

“You
seriously didn’t remember David’s daughter went to this school?” Veronica asked,
trying to get Kate to focus on her, to talk about something real, because it
was clear Kate was starting to spin out of control. “I mean, he has his stupid ‘Hudson
University Dad’ paperweight on his desk. He talks about his goddamn honorary
degree like every other minute.”

“That
was why I came here. I wanted to do what he wished he’d done. I just forgot
about the daughter part, I guess.”

“Kudos
on trying to outdo him, though,” Veronica said with a thumbs-up.

“Not
that it matters now,” Kate said.

I
touched Kate’s back, ran my palm back and forth against it.

“Do
you want to come back to the city with me today?” Veronica asked, latching
herself to Kate’s forearms.

I
didn’t speak. I barely breathed, waiting for Kate’s response. Could I have
found her and then lost her?

Maybe
I was as unlucky as she was. Maybe life was about to fuck us both.

Kate
straightened her stance. “No, I need to apologize to Dawn. I don’t know what
she’ll do, but I need to at least do that first.”

“You
want me to come with you to talk to her?” I asked.

Kate
shook her head.

She
didn’t have to say the words. This time I needed to let her take care of
herself.

Kate

After
we drove Veronica to the bus station and got back to the dorm, I went to deal
with Dawn.

I
could have taken Carter up on his offer and hidden in his room, but I was done
avoiding the things that were hard.

Eventually
there was no use avoiding them anyway.

If
I’d learned anything in my time during college-take-two, it was that escape
wasn’t a solution and lying wasn’t an escape.

I
left Carter with a kiss in the hallway and headed to my room. It was time to
act my real age for a change.

I’d
made these choices and I deserved the consequences whatever they were. I’d been
unknowingly hurting Dawn for over a year and I would take everything she dished
out.

I
entered our dark room. The lights were off, and Dawn’s bed was illuminated only
by a sliver of moonlight coming through the window.

She
didn’t move, lying like a lump under her covers. She
was
hiding, only
she had every right.

“Go
away,” she said before I’d even closed the door behind me. “I don’t want to
talk to you.” Her voice was even.

I
was surprised. Mine would have been shaking had
I
been facing me. The
woman who broke her mother’s heart, who ruined her relationship with her
father, who might have been the reason she wore so much black.

“I’m
sorry. I never meant for this to happen,” I said quickly. I wasn’t sure how
long Dawn would give me and those were words she deserved to hear. Given the
opportunity, I probably would have apologized to David’s daughter eventually,
anyway.

She
laughed angrily.

I’m sorry
was too small for the
lies I told, too insignificant to my betrayal, known or unknown.

“You
sound just like my dad,” she spit. “I guess that makes sense now.”

“I’m
really so sorry,” I said, hating the words, talking fast to cover them up. “I
didn’t know who you were, Dawn,” I pleaded. “I had no idea who I was to you.”

“Apparently,
I didn’t know who
you
were, either,” she said, finally sitting up to
face me, “who I was to you.” Her skin was pearl in the moonlight, the color of
snow. “I’m trying to decide what’s worse. How much I hated knowing you as my
father’s mistress, or how much I liked knowing you as my friend.”

“I
am your friend,” I said, moving across the room and sitting on my bed. I
understood I was one of the only people she’d let in and, even though I hadn’t
totally reciprocated, she knew the truest parts of me the way Carter did. The
person I was before alcohol made me into someone else, someone who would sleep
with her father.

“Friends
don’t lie to each other,” she said simply.

She
was right. It was why I tried to stay away from everyone when I first got here.
But I’d started to want this life—wanted to be the person I became in
college-take-two. How much did that matter if who I was, was still a lie?

“You’re
right,” I said, finally. “I’m sorry.”

“You
said that already, three times,” she replied. Her eyes were wet, shiny in the
moonlight. “Say something that means something or get the hell out of here.”

I
took a breath. Sorry didn’t explain anything and Dawn deserved an explanation.
She deserved a friend.

“I
wanted to be better than who I was when I was with your father. I wanted to be
the person I was before I ever met him, before I even knew I would meet him.” I
gestured around the room. “That’s what this was about.”

“So was
he your first married man?”

“My
first,” I nodded assuredly, “And most definitely, my last.”

“Lucky
me; I’m so glad you used my family to learn your lesson.”

My
skin tightened. I tasted acid on my tongue. “I knew your father was married,” I
said, “but I fooled myself into believing he was the one who did the hurting,
that my part in it didn’t matter. Meeting you, getting to know you, I see that
was wrong.”

“You
should have known before now. How old are you anyway?” she asked, squinting,
studying me.

“Twenty-nine,”
I admitted. “I turned twenty-nine a month ago.”

Her
mouth opened in an
O
like she was going to say
wow
, or
fuck me
,
or something, but had decided not to give me the satisfaction that I had
completely fooled her. “You act like a child. You act like you’re six.”

“I
know,” I said. “Unfortunately, that’s just starting to change. Sometimes we
don’t know what we’re doing until we can step away long enough to see it.”

“I’m
sick of being your guinea pig,” she said, pulling her knees up under her chin.
“I’m sick of my life being your laboratory.”

“I
wanted to tell you the truth. I mean, not day one or anything, but then I
started to get to know you, and I needed everyone to believe I was nineteen,
especially the administration…”

Something
clicked behind her eyes. “Oh I get it,” she interrupted, “you’re fucking them
too.”

I
swallowed, my throat on fire.
I was
. I thought I deserved a second
chance, but considering the way I’d gone about getting it, maybe I didn’t.

What made me think I was special enough to deserve trying again?
What made me think I had the right to start over?

Everyone
else in the world had to live with their choices, had to deal with the costs of
them. There was nothing I’d ever done that should have allowed me to disconnect
from my results, other than the delusional belief that I could change
everything by pretending to go back in time.

“So
I guess that means you haven’t told anyone yet,” I said, hating that I had
immediately.

“No,
my mind wasn’t on you.” She rolled her eyes. “Shocker, I know.”

I shrugged.
“I wanted to try again. I don’t have an excuse.”

“I’m
not asking for one.”

“What
are you asking for?”

“I
don’t know, maybe I wish I could go back, too. Maybe I want a chance to start
over.” She balled her fists together and smacked them down on her bed. The move
was so not Dawn, but maybe that was the whole point.

“You
can always start over.” I paused. “We can, anyway.”

“Ugh,”
Dawn muttered, “this isn’t about
you
.”

“Then
what about your dad?” I said. “I know he would want to.”

“He left.
You seriously scared the shit out of him.” She suppressed a smile. “He might
even be freaked out enough to keep his penis in his pants for a while.”

“For
you and your mom, I hope so.”

“Don’t
you
ever
talk about my mom,” she said, the smile she’d hidden morphing
into a snarl.

“I
don’t know what else I can do to prove how sorry I am, Dawn,” I sighed.

She
got up and grabbed her coat. “Why don’t you start by telling the truth,” she
said, slamming the door as she left the room.

The
sound of the door echoed as insistently as her words. She was right. That was
what I really needed to do to start over.

My
lies would never be enough.