Authors: Danielle Pearl
"I think I might have changed my mind about coming," I blurt without thinking.
Holy shit. What is wrong with me?
Carl shrieks excitedly and Chelsea fakes a pleased smile, but Sam is the first to speak. "Really?" he asks.
I shrug. "I've been thinking about what you said. About only being a senior once." I immediately regret this sudden outburst. Especially this last part where I've just admitted, in front of Chelsea no less, that Sam tried to convince me to come, and she's irked, I can tell.
Way to stay off her radar, Rory.
"Come, Ror. It'll be fun, I promise," Sam says.
"I don't know if my mom will let me," I backtrack, though it
is
the truth. "And this close to break I doubt there will be any hotel rooms or flights..."
"You can stay with me and Tina. Tina will probably be staying in Andy's room anyway," Carl teases and Tina blushes and yanks Carl's ponytail in retaliation.
"I, uh, would need my own room... sleep issues," I explain with a shrug.
"Who's
sleeping
?"
Carl replies, "It's spring break! We're there to party, not sleep!"
I roll my eyes, but under the table, unseen by the others, Sam squeezes my knee. I meet his gaze.
"I'll take care of it," he breathes into my ear.
He has no way of knowing about my nightmares, but somehow he understands how important it is for me to have my own hotel room. That is if I do convince my mom to let me go, and that's only if I myself decide I really do want to go.
Carl and Tina spend the rest of lunch trying to convince me to come while Chelsea begins giving detailed descriptions of the swimsuits she's purchased in what is, to me at least, a transparent attempt at hoarding Sam's attention. Sam's disinterest is infinitely pleasing to me.
I'm embarrassed when, out of nowhere, Chelsea asks why I don't change in the locker room for phys-ed, the one class I have with her. I notice Sam glare at her, but I just shrug.
"I prefer to change in the bathroom. Privacy," I murmur. Carl tries to change the subject but Chelsea persists.
"But there are bathroom stalls in the locker room, of course," she interrupts Carl. I don't know what she's playing at but it's clear she's trying to put me on the spot, likely for Sam's benefit. But if she's trying to show Sam that there's something wrong with me, the joke's on her. He already knows.
"We should get back to school," Sam says in a blatant attempt to blow Chelsea off. He even turns so his back to her. "I'll see you at my house for dinner, Rory?" he confirms.
I nod. I know he was trying to make some point in defense of me, but what that point was, I don't know. That will just have pissed her off more, and while some small part of me does get some satisfaction over having Sam make a point of showing Chelsea that I'm his friend, most of me just wishes he'd left it at
we should get back to school.
That day, I cut phys ed and head home one period early. I make myself a snack and work on my English paper. Restless, I leave a little earlier than usual to make my five thirty appointment. At five after, I sign in and, as always, wonder why they even keep a sign-in sheet when they remove it after each patient to ensure confidentiality. I'm reading on my tablet when the front door opens and, to utter my astonishment, in walks Sam.
My mouth gapes open.
What the hell is he doing here?
"Rory?" he asks. He seems as confused as I am.
Just then, the door to Dr. Schall's office opens and out walks a girl of about fifteen or sixteen and though her hair is blonde, her unmistakable midnight blue eyes tell me immediately who she is.
"Hiya Sammy," she murmurs nonchalantly. She doesn't seem like a girl who tried to kill herself in the past year, but maybe I don't look like what I actually am either.
"Hey Bits," he replies softly. And I understand.
Bits's doctor's appointment
. I swallow anxiously.
"Bits, this is, uh, Rory, my friend I told you about. Rory, this is my sister."
Bits seems confused, and maybe a little annoyed. I realize she probably thinks Sam brought me with him to pick her up, and that would be a pretty egregious invasion of privacy since this is clearly a therapist's office.
"I, um, have an appointment with Dr. Schall. At five thirty," I explain nervously.
This is so damn awkward. I remind myself that Sam already knows I have issues. He's seen my prescription bottle, obviously they were prescribed by a doctor.
And I don't even know Bits, and anyway she obviously has issues too. She wouldn't judge me, would she?
She visibly relaxes at my explanation. "Well that is some coincidence," she says with a warm smile. Sam and I still have our gazes locked, but neither of us speak. I wonder if he knows that Dr. Schall specializes is teen victims of violence and abuse.
God,
of
course
he does! He
must.
His sister sees him, and obviously her family - her wealthy family who could afford any doctor they chose - did their research before choosing him. Part of the reason my mom joined the big firm was because their insurance covered him. I run through some of the crazy things I've said or done in front of Sam since we've met and realize that he's probably already deduced that I'm a victim of
something.
Seeing me here shouldn't change anything, but
God, why won't he say anything?
"You're going to be joining us for dinner, aren't you, Rory?" Bits asks, in a clear attempt to break the tension. I turn to her and force a small smile.
"Um, yeah. After my, uh, appointment. Sam tutors me for calculus and we have a big test tomorrow," I explain.
"Great, looking forward to it," she replies and starts toward the door. Dr. Schall comes out from his office and shakes my hand. It took us a few sessions before I felt comfortable shaking his hand, but lately it's been fine.
"Come on in, Rory," he invites.
"Yeah, me too, see you later," I murmur back to Bits. Sam is still just staring at me.
"Uh, later, Ror," he mutters before following his sister out the door.
****
The day's rain has let up into a light drizzle when I leave the office an hour later.
No.
No, no
no! Shit!
I left my headlights on. Who
does
that?
Shit!
I unlock my jeep and get in. I insert the key into the ignition, pray, and turn.
Please please please...
My engine growls, but doesn't spark to life.
I try again.
Fuck.
My mom is working late tonight and she won't be home until eight. Okay, well I can't stay out here, because I can't be alone, even in my car, out at night.
It's dark. And desolate.
Okay, Rory, don't panic.
I scurry back inside the office, but only make it to the vestibule. The office door is locked. I ring the buzzer, but there's no response, and after trying twice more and knocking until my knuckles hurt, I realize Dr. Schall and his receptionist must have left through the back. I'd forgotten about the back door. I take out my phone to call Carl, but find myself dialing Sam.
"Rory?" he answers.
"Hey," I greet, trying to remain calm. I take a deep, steadying breath. "Look, I left my headlights on and my car won't start. I'm still at Dr. Schall's," I say shakily. I'm trying to keep it together, but I'm frightened, and I know he can hear it in my voice.
"I'll be right there, stay inside." In the background I can hear that he's already on the move, which calms me a little.
"Everyone already left. I didn't notice, when I was trying to get my car to start. I can't get back in, I'm in the vestibule," I say a little less shakily, but not by much.
"Everything's going to be fine, Rory. Just stay in the vestibule, if there's a lock you can turn from the inside, do it. Otherwise, just stay inside and I'll see you in ten minutes, okay?"
"Okay." There is a lock, so I turn it and relax a little further. Sam takes an audibly deep breath.
"You want me to stay on the phone with you?" he offers. And I know I should say no, that I'm already burdening him enough this evening with having me over for dinner, teaching me calculus, and now having to rescue me from my own stupidity.
"If you don't mind," I say instead, the potency of my accent surprising even myself.
"I don't mind, Rory. Of course not," he replies, and goes on to apologize about freezing earlier, explaining that he was just surprised to see me here.
I tell him not to worry about it and that I was kind of stunned, too. I say Bits seems nice, because she does, and we chat about nothing and everything while he drives and I try not to freak out. He talks more about Miami, and promises it'd be no imposition to get me my own room. He even quizzes me on math.
When he gets here, he instructs me to wait until he gets to the door to unlock the bolt, and I do. I only hang up when he's right outside the door, and I don't know why, but as soon as I'm out of the vestibule I step into his arms without even thinking and they wrap around me immediately.
Now, finally, I relax.
"Thanks," I murmur, stepping out from our hug.
"No problem, Ror. Come on, I forgot an umbrella when I rushed out," he says and grabs my hand to lead me in a hurried jog to his Escalade.
When we're safely inside the car I turn to look at him, only vaguely registering that I'm alone, in a car, with a guy, and I'm not afraid. This is a trigger for me. A big one. And yet... nothing.
"I'm real sorry about this," I murmur.
Damn
, I sound so southern, so
damsel in distress
, and it's the last thing I want to be in front of him.
"It happens, no big deal. But I don't have jumper cables in my car and it's really coming down out there. Are you cool to leave your car here overnight?" he asks.
"I guess, but what about school-"
"I'll drive you."
****
We pull up to his red brick colonial just after seven. It's a really nice house. Big, but not obnoxiously so. A traditional French style crystal chandelier hangs in the enormous window overlooking the mahogany front door which is open behind a glass screen door. I'm feeling disheveled, and I'm sure I look it, too. My clothes and hair are damp from the rain and it's less than ideal for meeting Sam's family. Sam keeps driving around to the side of the house and pulls into the garage, on account of the rain no doubt.
I get out and look around. It's been professionally designed and organized, that's for certain. Black and white rubber tiles cover the concrete making the garage feel like a room in the house. The back and side walls are all done in custom cabinetry and there's a huge Subzero party fridge as well.
Sam takes my hand and leads me up the three steps to what I assume is the back hall. It leads around one corner, past one bedroom and a guest bathroom, right into the kitchen which smells delicious but is empty of people.
"Mom! Bits!" Sam calls out. "We're here!"
Footsteps pad from above and down the back staircase next to the kitchen, and Sam's sister appears.
"Hi guys, Mom's just on the phone with Aunt Cathy, she'll be right down," she says. "Nice to see you again. Just so you know, Sam and Mom are the only people who call me Bits. My actual name is Beth," she says with a amiable smile.
"Well it's nice to meet you Bits, Beth, whichever you prefer," I reply.
She shrugs. "Honestly, it doesn't make the slightest difference to me what you call me."
"I like Bits," I admit.
"Me too," she replies and smiles conspiratorially. "I'll get the food on the table. Maybe Sammy can give you a tour," she suggests and I laugh.
"Sure,
Sammy
,
that would be great," I tease with an innocent smile, batting my eyelashes at him.
Sam rolls his eyes and hooks his arm around my shoulder to lead me out of the kitchen down another hall. "She likes you," he murmurs. "She's not usually so open with new people."
"I like her, too."
Sam shows me the main foyer which leads on one side to a formal dining room and to a family room on the other. Straight back is a grand "great room", which my house - either of them - certainly doesn't have. It's all decorated in transitional furniture and decor - somewhat traditional with contemporary accents. Either it was professionally decorated or Sam's mom has a knack for interior design.
When we return to the kitchen, Bits is still busy getting the food together. "Almost ready, go show her upstairs, it'll be ready when you're done," she calls back to us without looking.
Sam looks down at me inquisitively.
"
Calculus
," I murmur. The truth is, I think I would be okay walking around upstairs alone with him, I really do. But I'm not sure, I
can't
be sure, perhaps I'll
never
be sure, and I can't risk having a panic attack tonight. Not here. And for that reason, I use our safe word.