Damaged and the Beast (2 page)

I started the next day by acing my interview and landing the Denny’s job. Next, I visited the local bank to make sure I could access my nest egg. Three years of tips were saved for school and I’d need them to pay for school supplies. Waitressing would pay for the every day stuff and I was thrilled how everything was falling into place so easily.

After a bus ride from the bank, I reached New Hampton College. It was prettier than in the online pictures. Very green with large old trees lining the pathways. It felt fancy even if it was a small college providing mostly for the local kids. I nearly hyperventilated a few times out of sheer excitement. In third grade, I vowed to go to college and become a teacher. Now, I was on my way.

I handed in all of my paperwork, spoke with a counselor, and checked over my schedule. Ready to start on Monday, I explored the campus. Even though I was alone in this place, I felt a sense of true accomplishment. The thrill was so great that I didn’t let myself get bothered by how most students were with family and friends. They all had support systems and I had Amy who barely acknowledged me that morning.

Locating my classes so I wouldn’t get lost on Monday, I sized up the other girls and how they were dressed. I wanted to fit in and was happy to see how casual everyone appeared. Most girls wore their hair down even on the hot late summer day, so I planned to do the same. My dream was to disappear into the crowd and never stand out.

The final stop was to pick up food at a grocery store near the apartment. My mom’s tastes were particular and she claimed to eat at work a lot. Buying as much food as I could carry back to the apartment, I settled in with a sandwich in front of the television.

When my mom arrived, she stared at me. “Did you get the job?”

Realizing she was nervous about paying for the apartment by herself, I nodded quickly.

Amy smiled with relief. “It was nice to upgrade to this place. Your grandma paid for the deposit and first month, but a two bedroom is pricey on my salary.”

“The Denny’s manager has me working evenings Monday through Thursday. I’ll probably pick up extra shifts too. I can get you the money for next month’s rent.”

My mom gave me the first genuine smile since I arrived. While I wanted to think she was proud of me or happy I was there, I suspected she just liked having a nicer apartment. After fiddling around in the kitchen and making approving noises about how I’d bought my own food, she disappeared into her bedroom. A half hour later, she reappeared, ready to go out.

Aunt Tess swore Mom was clean. She also claimed Mom didn’t date. While I didn’t think my mom was heading to a date in the outfit she was wearing, Amy was definitely going somewhere nicer than McDonalds.

I didn’t ask though. I was afraid to know too much and realize my mom and I would never be close. I really hoped with enough time we could slowly rebuild our relationship. Even doubting this hope would come true, I still held onto it.

Mom stared at me for a minute. When I finally met her gaze, she smiled awkwardly. “You’re not one to hold grudges, right?”

“No, Mom.”

This was the closest we would come to discussing the reason she hadn’t been my mother for five years. That was how it worked in my family. We didn’t discuss things. We didn’t hash them out. A pretty impressive fact for two families filled with drunks and addicts.

My mother’s side of the family was known as sullen drunks. Moody, broody, silent. We didn’t talk about ugly things. We swept them under the rug where they could fester. On my dad’s side, we were known as violent, yet incoherent drunks. We screamed about football teams or who voted for what crappy president. We never discussed ugly stuff even while screaming over the most minor infractions.

When Cousin Jesse got caught touching a little boy, we didn’t talk about it. When Cousin Jesse disappeared, we acted like he’d taken off for a job. We all knew the little boy’s family disappeared him, but there was no reason to hash out such ugliness.

When Cousin Pauline killed herself, we pretended she accidentally took too much pain medicine. Could happen to anyone. Nothing to see there. Move on.

When bad things happened like five years ago, no one talked about it. No therapy, no discussion, no hashing out the ugly. We ignored the problem and it went away. My dad took us away from our mom and ditched her in a shithole in Oklahoma because they just didn’t click anymore. Nothing more to the story.

I knew my mom was thinking about the ugly thing from five years ago, but she didn’t say anything and neither did I. Even if I wanted to shrug off the Smith/Jones ways, I wasn’t sharing with my mom. What the hell could she say anyway besides sorry? Then, she’d turn it around and claim I attacked her for merely mentioning how fucked up she had once been.

“Have a good night,” Amy muttered, no longer nervous.

After she left, I dug my phone out of my backpack. While Dad had given me a cell phone, my grandma was the one who put more minutes on the account. I hoped to make enough money soon so I could call Tawny all the time. For now, I was just happy to hear her voice.

Tawny answered on the second ring. Her voice was quiet and I suspected she was scared.

“Are you alright?” I asked immediately.

“Yes. I’m alone in a motel though. I’m not used to being alone.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“I don’t know.”

We said nothing for a few seconds then my sister spoke. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

What’s it like there?”

“It’s pretty. Lots of trees.”

“Is Mom’s apartment small?”

“It’s okay.”

“Do you have your own room?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it really small?”

Realizing what Tawny was asking, I said, “We can share a bed. Do you want to come here?”

“I don’t know. Dad says Mom can’t handle having you and me there. He says she doesn’t want a minor in the house.”

“I’ve got a job already. Once I have enough money, you can live with me.”

Tawny exhaled and I knew she was ready to cry. She and I had spent every day of her life together. When Mom and Dad had their drama, Tawny and I were together. When we didn’t know where the family would sleep at night or if we’d eat dinner, Tawny and I were together. When that ugly thing happened five years ago, Tawny and I were the only ones who knew how ugly it really was because we’d been together.
Always together, but not anymore.

“Soon, Tawny,” I whispered, afraid to speak too loudly and jinx us. “I’ll save as much money as I can and get my own place. It’s pretty here and you’ll like it.”

“I miss you,” she said again.

“I miss you too.”

Silence lingered because without the ability to talk about the bad stuff, we really didn’t have anything to talk about. Dad was likely tense with keeping himself hidden. Since Tawny hated school and had dropped out at sixteen, she was around a lot for him to dump crap on. She couldn’t tell me about this though because talking about her loneliness and fear was ugly. Ugly meant silence, so we sat there for a while.

“We’re in the same time zone so maybe we can watch TV together?” I suggested.

“It’ll be expensive.”

“I’ll get a good phone plan and call you every night I’m not working.”

“I miss you,” she said, crying now. “I miss you.”

Long after we cried ourselves into silence and hung up, I thought about those three words. I imagined Tawny in a dump of a motel in the middle of nowhere. Scared and alone, she had no one to talk to or trust. Even though I was building something new in this place, nothing would be good until my sister was with me.

The first day of classes was overwhelming. Though I tried making friends and people were nice, it was all superficial stuff. I noticed many of the students already knew each other. They had friends and didn’t really need new ones. Before I started feeling too left out, I remembered it was the first day.

The classes at New Hampton tended to be small with desks like in high school. The more popular classes were held in large rooms. My English Lit class was in one of those big halls and I had trouble getting comfortable with so many people whispering around me. Most of my classes were smaller though and I knew with time I would get used to the crowded ones too.

I also liked how a majority of instructors preferred to be addressed by their first names. With such a relaxed atmosphere, I was finally getting the hang of things by the time I reached my final class.

Spanish was my elective for the semester. My plan was to become fluent and make myself a better job candidate for the many areas where non-English speakers lived. Plus, I had always wanted to learn another language. I’d started taking Spanish in high school, but we moved and it wasn’t offered at the new school. This year with no unexpected moves, I would finally learn Spanish. Just one of the many things on my checklist for my new life.

Running late after taking a wrong turn, I entered the room to find it mostly full. The class was heavy on girls who appeared to be lifelong friends. I found a spot towards the front where only the nerds sat including a very cute guy to my right. Glancing casually towards him, I pretended I was looking around, just so I could check him out. Tall, lean, maybe a little on the underdeveloped side, I suspected he wasn’t really done growing yet. His brown hair fell over his eyes and I caught him swiping it away a few times. I wasn’t sure his eye color until he caught me looking and the green-eyed Sweetie Pie grinned. Giving him a quick smile, I hid behind my hair and pretended to look for a pen.

Behind me, the BFFs laughed and talked about their summer fun. I was used to being on the outs with the cliques. Most of the time, the girls had been friends since kindergarten. As the motel kid who wouldn’t be around by the end of the year, no one wanted to be my best friend. In the end, it had always been just me and Tawny. The girls behind me were tanned, pretty, and confident. Pack mentality gave girls power and I wished to find a pack of my own in college.

The back of the class was the spot for the cool and/or indifferent people. One guy was already asleep while two chairs down was a stoner who kept looking behind him like someone was lurking. Three chairs down from the stoner was Hot Guy.

This was a guy who got what he wanted. When I pretended to tie my shoes, I noticed the girls grinning at him. He gave them a wink like he wasn’t in the mood right then, but later he would allow one of them the privilege of servicing his needs. His dark blond hair was all kinds of messy like maybe he just came from being serviced and didn’t have time to clean up afterwards. I couldn’t see his eyes, but they were dark and menacing. Even when he winked and gave the girls a grin, Hot Guy looked ready to hit someone upside the head for blocking his view or simply breathing.

He was exactly the kind of guy that scared the shit out of me. Wide shouldered, muscular, casually scary, tattooed, and stunning, he made my stomach flip with both lust and terror. If he ever showed interest in me, I’d both shiver with excitement and likely wet my pants.

While Hot Guy was bad news, Sweetie Pie was more my style. He looked like the kind of guy I could marry. We would have a few kids, a dog, maybe a cat. We would spend our weekends fixing up the house and yard while the kids played. We’d have a routine of a family meal out on Saturdays or when kids ate free. Then, after the kids wore themselves out from a day of play, hubby and I would enjoy dull un-terrifying sex and fall asleep thinking about our taxes.

Anyone else would find this fantasy lame, but I always got myself a little hot and bothered imagining it. A safe calm life with a man who loved me in a safe calm way. Sweetie Pie would never gamble away our Christmas money. He would never forget my birthday, though he might need hinting to remember our anniversary. He was the kind of guy who wanted to buy himself lots of electronic toys, but wouldn’t if the kids might lose out on getting something great from Santa.

Sweetie Pie was boring to some, but he was the kind of guy who wouldn’t make me cry or fear his moods. He was the kind of guy I would enjoy in my life as a teacher, mom, and wife. I was a good person and deserved to have my simple dreams come true.

Once class began, the Spanish instructor Manuel kept smiling at me. He smiled at everyone in the front rows and pretty much ignored the rest of the class who likely wasn’t paying attention anyway. The girls whispered about upcoming parties, stoner still thought someone lurked behind him, sleepy guy barely stirred during class, and Hot Guy looked bored whenever I casually glanced back at him.

No, Manuel knew his audience and he worked hard to make Sweetie Pie, me, and a dark skinned girl feel comfortable. He helped us try a few phrases and didn’t get mad when I would only whisper my answers.

After class as I walked the half mile to the bus stop, I suspected Spanish would be my favorite class. The day went exactly how I imagined. Feeling special to attend New Hampton, I smiled about how my future wasn’t so unattainable anymore.

So many nights I cried in the dark and worried my dream was the stupid fantasy of a poor kid hoping for too much. Now, my dreams were coming true and I’d help them come true for Tawny too. Life wouldn’t be a mess of dependency and violence like with my parents. Life would be safe, dull, and happy.