High Heels and Lipstick (19 page)

“Sorry.” I wasn't. Not even close. But I would have to watch what I said if I wanted them to actually listen to me. “Something bad happened to me. It wasn't my fault, and it wasn't because of anything I did. I wasn't doing anything different that day from every single other day of my life.”

I was getting louder than I intended, but I'd let this build up far too long. When I first reported Jim, I was afraid. Of him, of his family, of other people. I'd let my parents protect me because it helped me a little, but they had gone overboard, and now I was tired of it.

Two months had gone by. I didn't need to be protected. I needed to be normal again. For the rest of my life, I would probably have to deal with fallout from what Jim had done. Memories, sometimes wanting to hurt myself, not being able to eat. But I shouldn't have had to deal with practically being kept prisoner by my parents on top of all of that.

I wanted to say all of that out loud, but I couldn't figure out how to say it without sounding like at least some of my problems were Mom and Dad's fault. Even as frustrated as I was, I knew that wouldn't help.

“No one blames you, honey,” Mom said.

“Then why are you keeping me locked up?” I touched my eyes with my fingertips to make sure I wasn't as close to crying as I felt. “You check in with me every five seconds when I'm out of the house, except when I'm at school. Half the time, you don't even let me go anywhere except school and counseling. I was dealing just fine with what happened until Guillermo figured it out and talked me into telling people. Now everyone acts like I'm either broken or a liar or both, and it's pissing me off. That's my problem. Not what happened. The way people are treating me because of it.”

No one commented on my language this time. Not that I would have cared.

“We want you to be safe,” Dad said. “Part of our job as your parents is to keep you safe. We failed. We didn't think giving you the same freedom as your brothers would be a problem, and we were wrong.”

“That's ridiculous,” Marcus said.

Surprised, I looked at him. I didn't know why he was taking my side, but I was grateful for it.

“Why is it ridiculous?” Dad demanded.

“Treating Chastaine differently only because she's a girl wouldn't be right.” Marcus folded his arms. “I know all about how guys are safer than girls, and the whole double standard thing about it being okay for guys to sleep around, but a girl is a slut if she even has sex once.”

Mom flinched. My parents were a little more open about sex than a lot of my friends' parents, but it still wasn't a typical dinner table topic.

“Marcus, that isn't the topic,” Dad said.

“Yeah, it is. You're sitting there saying you're trying to keep Chastaine safe by not letting her go out the way you always let the rest of us.” Marcus shook his head. “You were doing the right thing by treating her the same as the rest of us. You're wrong now, when you aren't doing that anymore. And that's what's ridiculous.”

Mom and Dad opened their mouths. Before either of them could speak, I held up my hand and cleared my throat. That wasn't how I actually wanted to get their attention. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. But I had the feeling they wouldn't appreciate it.

“I know you want me to be safe,” I said. “Wrapping me up in bubble paper and keeping me in the house isn't going to do that. It's only going to make me too angry to listen to anything you say. So back to the beginning. I didn't think I had to tell you about the mall, because you've never had a problem with me going places after school as long as I'm home for supper. I forgot about my appointment, but Kendra called, and I apologized.”

I had to pause, because I was running out of breath and my voice was rising again. None of them seemed inclined to say anything, so I figured I might actually have a chance to finish.

“I had fun with my friends,” I said. “Don't you keep telling me I should spend more time with my friends instead of sitting around here? But then you turn around and say I shouldn't go anywhere. I'm kind of confused, I guess. Which is it? I should spend more time with my friends, or I should hang my head in shame and hide in my bedroom because a guy I trusted and slept with decided that meant I had to sleep with him even if I didn't want to?”

Mom's mouth dropped open. I should have figured she would react that way. Open about sex or not, neither of my parents wanted the reminder that I'd been having it. Another double standard, because I distinctly remembered my dad congratulating Andy and Marcus after their first times. My parents still didn't even know when I'd lost my virginity.

“I was raped.” I had to say it out loud. We almost never said that word in our house, and it was well past time to call it what it was. “Like you said to Jane, Mom. It doesn't matter how many times I'd had sex with him before, and it doesn't matter how many other guys I'd had sex with. He did something to me against my will, and that made it rape. It happened at his house after we went on a date to the beach. He wasn't a stranger. No one grabbed me out in public or dragged me into a dark alley or whatever. He was someone I knew and trusted, and I went with him by choice. I didn't believe he would hurt me. He wasn't like that.”

The last part wasn't exactly true. Everyone knew what kind of guy Jim was. A bully. Loud, obnoxious, and almost always ready for a fight. But he'd been pretty nice to me when we went out together, right up until that last time. As far as I'd known until Maryellen came forward, he was an asshole to other guys, but didn't really bother most girls other than insults here and there.

Dad took a deep breath. “Are you done, Chastaine?”

“Yeah.” I figured he was waiting for an apology, but I wasn't giving one.

“All right.” He reached for a roll. “Jim will spend a month in juvenile detention. When he's released, he'll be on probation again until he's eighteen. He's been ordered into therapy, and he'll have to register as a sex offender until he's twenty-one, and then he'll have to go to court and have a judge grant him removal from the list.”

He looked at me, and that was when I realized his eyes were wet. “He's paying, Chastaine. Maybe not as much as he should, but he's paying.”

I nodded and covered my face with my hands. It was good news. Even better than when I'd heard Jim had pled guilty. So there was absolutely no reason for me to break down in tears except pure relief. The problem was, I wasn't sure my parents would recognize it as that, and I didn't want to upset them any more than I already had.

“His mother called as well,” Mom said.

Startled, I moved my hands and stared at her. “She called here? How did she have our number?”

“We're in the phone book,” Mom said. She pressed her lips together for a moment. “She said she doesn't entirely believe your story, even though Jim admitted it. She thinks it was a misunderstanding. At least, she wants to believe it was. I'm pretty sure she knows differently. I know how I would feel if one of your brothers was accused of something like this, so I can't blame her.”

“Yeah.” I'd only met Jim's mother a couple of times. She hadn't liked me, and the feeling was mutual.

“She told me to let you know that whatever happened, she's sorry you've gone through a difficult time.” Mom paused. “I didn't expect her to say anything remotely like that. She started the call by telling me you shouldn't have talked to the police, but then she apologized. And she said once Jim's out of detention, he
won't be living in the state anymore. They're making
arrangements for his probation to be served out in Michigan. Apparently he has a relative out there who's offered to take him in. His father has kicked him out, and his stepfather doesn't want him back.”

“If you're trying to make me feel sorry for him, I don't.” I picked up my fork, though I didn't have any intention of eating. “He's getting what he deserves. I'm just sorry he has somewhere else to go.”

Mom flinched again. Either I sounded angrier than I realized, or she was right on the edge of telling me to forgive and forget or some crap. I'd tried the forgetting thing, and it hadn't worked for me. And there was no way in hell I was ever going to forgive Jim.

“You don't have to feel sorry for him,” Dad said. “I
wouldn't either. I think your mother was just informing you. Although I'm not pleased that Jim's mother called here. I hope you told her not to do it again.”

“I did,” Mom said.

“Can we eat yet?” Marcus tapped his fork against his plate. “The food's getting cold and I'm getting annoyed.”

“What do you have to be annoyed about?” Dad asked.

“The way you guys are kind of dogpiling on Chastaine.” Marcus shoveled a forkful of potato into his mouth and talked while he chewed it. “She didn't do anything wrong. You're acting like she's grounded, and that shouldn't be happening. And you have the whole school thing stuck in your head that I don't even want to comment about.”

“I'm not changing schools.” I was glad Marcus had brought that up. It was a welcome new topic. “There's no point in it. People are always going to say what they say. And, as the cliché goes, my reputation precedes me. Some of the kids at Leigh-Anne's school knew me in middle school. The rest have probably already heard about me from Leigh-Anne or from other people who know me. Being in school with them isn't going to make things any better. I have friends where I am, and I'm staying there.”

I followed Marcus's lead and took a bite of potato, which was bland enough that I figured I might be able to keep it down, even though, after my rant and finding out Jim's mother had called Mom, my stomach felt like one of those centrifugal carnival rides. Unlike Marcus, I didn't say anything while I was eating. I was afraid if I kept talking, Mom and Dad would get pissed off enough to completely ignore what I wanted and force me to change schools anyway.

Dad sighed. “I checked on what you told us last week about that school. Leigh-Anne may have exaggerated some things, but enough of it is true that I don't think it would make much of a difference for you. And, as you pointed out, some of the other students are already going to know about you.”

I tried not to sigh with relief. Dad had actually taken me seriously enough to follow up on what I'd told him, and now I could stay at school with my friends. I'd still have to deal with all the crap too, but at least it was familiar crap from familiar people.

“El-Al and I are friends again.” I didn't remember if I'd told them that before. “Like, she took me to the mall. She wanted me to go shopping with her after I visited Maryellen the other day, but I already had plans with Holly.”

Mom smiled. “That's good. I'm glad to hear it. It's sad that you can't make up with Gina too.”

“Yeah. I'd kind of rather not think about her.” I had to keep myself from saying anything too negative. After all, Mom and Jane had known each other since they were kids. Even after what Jane had said to me, I had a feeling Mom still wanted to be her friend, which meant she would still want me to be friends with Gina.

Not something that would ever happen, but I was okay with letting Mom have her illusion for a little while as long as she didn't mention it to me.

“I understand.” Mom made a little sound like she was trying to say something but didn't know what word to actually speak. “Um, what about Holly? It seems like you've been spending a lot of time with her. She wasn't part of your group before.”

I had no idea why Mom was bringing that up now. She knew I'd become friends with Holly and Evan. She'd met Guillermo before, during football season. This was the first time she'd questioned me hanging around with them.

“We've been in the same class all along,” I said. “We weren't exactly friends, but we've known each other for years. The kids who were my friends aren't anymore, and Holly is. Why the big deal?”

“I'm just curious.” Mom looked down at her plate. “Okay. I don't think we have anything else to discuss, do we?”

“Yes, we do.” With Marcus's moral support, it wouldn't hurt if I tried to talk my parents into letting up on the restrictions they'd been giving me. “I want to be able to go out the way I've always done. I don't know what you're hoping to do by not letting me go places. I know I haven't actually been asking very much. I don't have many friends left, and the parties don't sound like all that much fun anymore. But still, when I do ask, you either don't let me or you keep checking up on me.”

“We want to keep you safe,” Dad said again.

“Yeah, I told you I get that.” I took a couple of deep breaths so I wouldn't completely lose it. This time, they worked a little better. “Nothing's different from how it used to be. That's what you don't understand. What happened to me was last summer. I didn't even mention it for months because I was dealing okay with it, and I was still going out and having fun. Nothing else happened to me.”

Dad sighed. “I know. We're parents. We don't have to make sense.”

“You have to be fair to your kids, though,” Marcus said. “Believe me, I'm as worried about Chastaine as you guys are, but that doesn't mean I think it's okay for you to change the rules for her and make rules you never would have expected any of us guys to follow.”

“We need to discuss it,” Mom said. “And by ‘we,' I mean your father and me privately. After supper. Chastaine, I understand what you're saying, but it scares me to realize this happened to you and could happen again.”

“I could get run over by the 713 bus too, but I don't see you keeping me from walking down the street.” I took another bite of food before I could get too sarcastic.