Change Of Season (36 page)

TWENTY

Oakville;  December 2
nd
, 2011

It was a comfortable couch, all in all:  soft cushions that yielded with a hushed greeting.  Her fingertips traced figure eights in the cool leather as she stared at her feet, counting scuff marks and mud spatters.  Florence + The Machine played softly over the tinny computer speakers at her suggestion.  It seemed only fitting.

Emma sat silently, waiting.  Insert coin, press start.  Ready Player One.  System overload.

No light indeed, Ms. Welch
.

“I’m sorry,” Autumn mumbled.

“Don’t be.”

Lint on her kilt.  One single little ball, waiting to be plucked.  Imperfections all around.  That was the real problem, she decided:  failure to see imperfections had cast her into an oubliette where everything was tainted.  Her fists balled as she saw him in her mind’s eye:  fake smile, fake story.  Predator meeting foolish prey, leading her to her demise.  Just another meal to chew and spit out.  And she’d
bought it
! 

Worse still, she’d become the destroyer:  Heather, Persephone, Andrew… But he had pushed his way in.  Why did he have to notice her?  What gave him the right?  What gave Veronica the right to move into her life?

It bubbled and whistled within her, steam rising until her pursed lips blew open.  Fury.

“I’m not sick, you know.  I’m not crazy.  I’m just stupid.  Gullible and stupid!  I think that’s what pisses me off the most:  I believed him.  I knew better, saw through it, but fell anyway.  It’s like playing a goddamn carnival game.  They’re all rigged, but hey, throw another five dollar bill down and step right up.”

“Barkers are manipulative. They thrive on selling the illusion,” Emma said quietly.  “People sell illusions, but that doesn’t mean we’re stupid.  It means they’re experts at a horrible game.”

Autumn snorted, shaking her head.  “I shouldn’t have fallen for it.  I’m not pretty – not in that model way, I mean.  Not a single guy gave me a second glance until Chris, you know?  It made no sense.  But now, I get it:  he knew I was so desperate to be loved, to be wanted, that I’d buy every word.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be loved.”

“The excuses I’d make for him…  Stress, jealousy, midterms…  What the hell was
wrong
with me?  Can you tell me that?  Can you tell me why I let him throw me into walls?  Why I gave him head after he nearly choked me out?”  She punched the couch, kicking her feet against the ground.  “I could barely swallow, but I did it.  I thought I loved him and I wanted him to stop being angry…”

Sobs wracked her body as she wrapped her arms around herself, eyes shut tightly.  She couldn’t see Emma judge her.  Not now.  Nor did she want pity, placating comments devoid of meaning.  Her skin crawled at the memory of his whispered declarations of love. 
A snake.  Serpentine
.

“My parents thought I missed him, when my grades started dropping.  When he ran from town.  They compared me to that
Twilight
shit, you know?  Boohoo, Edward, come back.  My mom secretly loves books like that.  I didn’t miss him. I missed feeling safe walking down a street.  I missed my dog.”  She opened her eyes slowly, brushing aside tears.  “He killed my dog, Emma.  He
killed
her.  We had her for nine years…”

“I’m so sorry,” Emma whispered.  “That’s terrible, to lose family like that.”

“The parade of shrinks began.  Depression.  Bipolar.  Accusing my dad of molesting me – oh that doctor pissed me the fuck off, lemme tell you!”  Rolling her eyes, Autumn added, “By the time June hit, I was ready to snap.  When Fiona told me they lost him in Montreal, I knew my only option was to get away from everyone I knew.  Because he’d be back, that much I knew.  She knew it too.”

Emma leaned forward, passing a box of tissues, “Fiona?”

“The girl he dated before me.”  She blew her nose, bawling the tissue in her lap.  “I chose boarding school.  I liked Casteel’s gates.”

“They are rather impressive,” Emma said lightly.  “The campus is very safe, Autumn.”

“I hope so…  He’s back in Ontario.  Calling Fiona.”

Emma frowned at this, reaching for her pen.  “Is there a restraining order on him?”

Autumn shook her head.  “Not for me.  I never told.  Fiona has one.”

“We’ll have to take measures then, just in case he finds out you’re attending school here.”

“No, you can’t tell!” Autumn bolted upright, shaking her head.  “You can’t!”

Emma sighed.  “Autumn, you’re in danger.  I don’t have to give anyone details, but I do need to ensure he’s not permitted access to campus.  We can chalk it up to harassment and leave it there.  Only security and I will know.”

“No… Just… I want to think.”  She drew her knees up to her chest.  “It’s my life.”

“Alright, for now,” Emma acquiesced. 

“I was supposed to be safe here,” Autumn whispered.  “Ignored.  Quiet.  Do my work and go back to my room.  But then Veronica had to march on in and complicate things, and Andrew… I can’t.  I’m not normal, you know.  I didn’t ask for him to be my friend!  I didn’t ask for any of them to be there!”

“People can’t be controlled that way,” Emma stated calmly.  “Feelings are involved, and they do what they want.  You know this.”

“Well screw Andrew!  What’s he doing chasing after a basket case anyway?”  She was shouting now, tugging angrily at her kilt.  “And you know, I didn’t ask Veronica to give a damn.  She should just go back to her nice, normal friends and forget about me!  They ruined everything!”

“By being your friends.”

“Yes!” Autumn seethed, tearing up another tissue from the box. 

Emma remained quiet for a minute or two – time sped and slowed at will these days and it was harder to keep track – before finally leaning forward, smiling faintly.

“It was incredibly brave of you to come in here today and share all this.  Thank you for trusting me with it.”

Autumn shook her head sadly.  “I can’t do it alone anymore… My heart hurts.  It’s this boulder in my chest, crushing me… suffocating… I can’t.”

“You’re not alone,” Emma insisted.  “You have me.  You can also choose to have others help too.  Have you told anyone else about what happened?”

“Just Miraj.”

Emma nodded.  “I know it’s hard to speak of it, but every person who loves you and knows can take a little piece of it for you.  Like sharing bags of groceries, right?  Tell me, Autumn: how do you feel right now?”

“Sad… Stupid.  Tired.”

“Do you feel any lighter, now that you’re not holding this secret from me?”

Autumn shrugged.  “Kind of… I’ve been freaking out all week, but it’s done, so that’s not there, I guess.”

“Maybe you could tell Veronica or Heather?”

The gears whirred to a slow
click-click
in her skull.  Running on fumes.  Resting her head on the arm of the couch, she considered this prospect. 
Heather knows me best… but her last email was… disconnected.
 
Veronica?
  Maybe she could…  Maybe.  It would end their awkward conversations about Andrew for good, if nothing else. 

“Maybe Veronica,” she ceded.

Emma smiled, leaning back.  “Think about it.  It’s your choice, and you alone get to decide who to tell and how much.  But even letting a little out could be just what you need to move forward.”  Glancing at the desk, she sighed.  “It looks like our time is up.  Will you be okay for class, or would you like to be excused?”

“I’ll go… Professor St. James is a great distraction on bad days.”

“The ties?”

Autumn laughed.  “Oh my God, they’re hilarious!  You’ve seen the one with little zombies, right?”

Emma giggled.  “He cracks me up.  Very good man.”

Reaching for her backpack, Autumn rubbed her aching eyes.  “How bad do I look, doctor?”

“Nothing worse than a late night cramming session, promise.”

“Okay.”  With a deep breath, she headed for the door.  “Next week, I guess.”

“Be well, Autumn,” Emma replied warmly.  “And if you need extra support, call me.”

“I will.”

Shutting the door behind her, Autumn paused, steadying herself.  She’d done it.  She’d actually told her about
him
.  Emma hadn’t judged her, not once.  She’d only wanted to help her.  Protect her.

She was worth protecting. 

Tell someone
.  Another someone.  Stepping outside, she bit her lip anxiously.  Emma was bound to keep her confidences, but did she dare confess to another?  Did she trust anyone with the tatters of her heart?

Veronica
.  She’d kept silent about the paranormal predicament she was in.  If an admittedly juicy story like that couldn’t break her vows, then maybe Autumn could open up.

Slowly.  One foot in front of the other. 
Time to fight back
, Miraj had said. 
Time to live
.

***

Déjà vu:  Veronica sat quietly, crossed legs and hands on knees, meditating on the shaky silence between them.  Their respective homework lay abandoned on the twin beds, the room humming with music – Hole, this time. 
Celebrity Skin
, Autumn’s favourite of their discography.

Just tell her
, Autumn berated herself. 
Just say it
.  She’d rehearsed this in the mirror twice.  It was so simple. 
Speak.

“I can trust you to keep something private, right?”

Veronica nodded.  “Of course.  You’re my friend.  One of my best.”

Autumn sighed, hugging her pillow to her chest.  “I didn’t just come here for the Writing program.  I mean, that was a sweet bonus, but it wasn’t the main reason.  I…  I needed to hide.”

“Hide?”

Autumn inhaled deeply, holding her breath for a count of five, as Emma had taught her to do.  “I used to date this guy, V.  I don’t want to…  The details don’t matter.  He hurt me.  Hit me.  And… I wasn’t safe.”

“Oh, Autumn, I’m so sorry.”  Veronica’s eyes moistened.  “That bastard.”

“He killed my dog,” she whispered, cursing herself as tears fell anew.  “With a truck.”

“What?  Oh my God, that’s so sick!”  Veronica shook her head, leaning forward.  “Do your parents-”

“No, and I don’t… Not now.  You have to promise, V.”

Veronica nodded.  “Of course.  I promise.  Just… that’s so much to handle alone.  Is that why you don’t go home?”

“Kind of,” Autumn replied.  “I was enrolled in Behavioural Reform, so there’s a rule about it.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Veronica said quickly.  “You’ve been through hell.”

“Thank you.”

“Hug?”

Autumn nodded, and Veronica sat beside her, hugging her tightly.  She was warm, but shaky – trembling.  She cared.  She believed her.

“Can I tell you something?” Veronica asked quietly.

“Sure.”

Sitting back, Veronica swallowed hard.  “I told you on that first day that I study people.  Remember?”

Autumn nodded.  “You seemed to look right through me.  It was scary.”

Veronica smiled.  “Not scary, just…  I saw you the night before classes, out on the quad, and something about how you walked, how you held your body…  I could feel the fear.  The walls were super-high already.  I recognized it.  I’ve lived it.”

Autumn felt her stomach turn.  “Veronica, what do you mean by that?”

Her friend toyed with the blankets, eyes averted as she began.  “I was fourteen, and my friends and I were at this Canada Day party.  Huge party – hundred people there, easy.  The booze was flowing and I was of course drinking, feeling like a big bad-ass.  There was this guy there, Jamie…  He was sixteen, or so I remember.  Older for sure.  My friends and I got separated but Jamie was cute, so I didn’t mind much.  He offered to get me another beer and I thought he was a gentleman for it.”  Veronica shook her head sadly, her hair tumbling across her cheeks.  “Gentleman.  Ha.  I don’t remember much after that… flashes of dancing, and loud music… His hand under my skirt.  My friends came looking for me.  I was lucky, my clothes were still on.”

“Oh shit!” Autumn gasped.  “The drink.”

“The drink,” Veronica echoed.  “My friends cabbed me back home, one of them kicking him in the balls on my behalf.  But even though they were there for me, I felt
different
after that.  Closed.  There was this chasm between us that I couldn’t overcome, and we drifted apart.  I only speak to them by email, see them once or twice a year.  So when I saw you,” she continued, smiling, “I saw a kindred who needed a friend.  Someone who wouldn’t pry.  Someone who wouldn’t push me.”