Just Remember to Breathe (25 page)

He stood, held his hands out and hugged me.
 

Jessica had paused at the door when I walked in, and said, “Alex isn’t feeling well today.”

“Oh no,” he said. “Do you need to go to the doctor?”

I shook my head. “Just something I ate. I’m going to go lay down for a bit; I’ll be fine.”

“Well then. Go get some rest, and we’ll see you at dinner.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

I escaped with no further questioning, then dragged my bags up to the fourth floor.

Thirty seconds after I entered my room, Carrie joined me, closing the door behind her.

“Tell me what happened,” I said.

She sat down on the bed, facing me.

“Kelly called me. She saw a news report about Randy… apparently last night he met a girl at the 1020, and followed her home. And raped her. ”

“Oh, God,” I whispered. “It’s my fault. If I’d reported it last spring…”

“Alex, stop that. Randy Brewer is to blame. Not you.”

I put my arms around myself and leaned forward, breathing slowly and carefully, trying to keep myself together.
 

Then I blurted out, “Dylan talked to me yesterday. Told me he’d had second thoughts, and asked me to take him back. Just yesterday.”

She put her arms around my shoulder, and I whispered, “I told him no, Carrie. I told him he’d have to… somehow prove himself. Prove that he’s serious, and won’t leave again.”

I began to shake with great wrenching muscle spasms, gasping for air as I sobbed on her shoulder.

“Oh God, I screwed up, Carrie. I told him no, right when he needed me the most.”

She whispered, “There’s no way you could have known this was going to happen, Alex.”

“It doesn’t matter what I knew or didn’t know. What matters is he’s all alone, and I’m
stuck!
I should be there with him, and instead I’m stuck in San Francisco for ten days.”

She whispered, “You’ve got friends who care about you. We can get a message to him through Kelly or Joel, okay? Just keep it together. You’re going to have a tough enough time with all this, without Mom and Dad getting on your case.”

“Screw them,” I said.

Just then my bedroom door opened. No knock. Nothing.

It was Jessica.

“You can stop whispering,” she said. “I heard everything.”

Carrie sat up straight, shock on her face. “How dare you?” she demanded, sounding at that moment exactly like my mother.

“I knew she was lying to us in the car. And then I saw her call history. She was calling you instead of Kelly.”

“So you just come and eavesdrop? Is that why you and Sarah have been at each other’s throats? Because you’ve lost all sense of decency?”

“Jessica,” I gasped. “You
can’t
say anything to Mom and Dad about this.”

She closed the door, and pulled the chair out from my desk and sat down. “I won’t. Of course I won’t. I can’t speak for Sarah, of course. But I want to know what happened. You and Dylan are back together? And Randy Brewer raped someone? What have you been
doing
in college, Alex?”

I started to laugh and cry at the same time, uncontrollably, and then, before I knew it, I spilled the entire story.

All three of us heard the creak of the stairs at the same moment. Quickly I wiped my face, then dived under my covers. Carrie and Jessica were still arranging themselves when there was a knock on the door, and then it opened.

It was my mom.
 

“Alex, I brought you some soup…
oh!
” she said, surprised to find my sisters with me. She recovered quickly, and set the soup on my desk. “This might help you feel a little better. I see your sisters are taking care of you?”

She phrased it like a question, but what she meant was,
I see you and your sisters are gossiping?
or something similar.

Carrie stood, straightened her blouse, and said, “We’ve got her all taken care of, mother. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

“Well, then,” my mother said, looking a little nonplussed. “I’m so glad to see at least some of you are getting along. Do you think you’ll be up for dinner tonight, Alexandra? Your sister Julia and her horrid boyfriend won’t be in town until tomorrow night, so it’s just the six of us. I can’t imagine why they aren’t staying here, we have plenty of room.”

Carrie gave our mother a level look. “He’s her
husband
, mother.”

Mom gave a quick, insincere smile, as if to dismiss Carrie, and said, “One can always hope.”

Carrie responded with a sniff, and said, “You’re right, Mother. I can’t possibly imagine why they wouldn’t want to stay here with us.”

My mother stiffened her back and looked at Carrie imperiously. “You are impertinent. If you’re going to take that tone with me, I’ll just go downstairs. Perhaps Sarah would like some company.”

Jessica rolled her eyes and said, “Like
that
will happen. Good luck with her, Mom.”

My mother left in a huff.

Carrie took a deep breath, as if shaking off something, after mom left. Then she turned to Jessica and said, “All right, spill it. What’s going on between you and Sarah? You two are usually inseparable.”

Jessica frowned. “She’s gone bipolar I think. Or schizophrenic. Wearing black always, like some goth girl. And … God, I hate her! She kissed Mark Wilson, when she
knew
I wanted to go out with him. I heard she let him feel her up. At
school!
I could kill her.”

Carrie’s jaw dropped. “When did all this happen?”

“She’s been like this since school started.”

“Wow. I bet it’s been pretty tense around here, with you two at each other’s throats.”

“It’s not
my
fault.”

“Well, whatever is going on with you and Sarah, you can’t say a word about Alex and Dylan to anyone. You understand? This is serious.”

Jessica turned to me.

“Do you love him? Dylan?”

I nodded. “Of course. I… I always have.”

She looked serious. “Then I’ll do whatever I can to help. It might not be much, but I promise.”

I smiled at her, and said, “Thank you.”

What Happens Next? (Dylan)

“So what happens next?” I asked.
 

Ben Cross, my lawyer, said, “Well, we go in there. The DA will tell the judge they’re dropping the charges and why. Then the judge will dismiss the case.”

“And that’s the end? I get my bail money back and we’re done?”

“It’ll probably take a couple of days to get the money back.”

“And no more travel restrictions?”

“No more anything, Dylan. Look… it was one thing for them to prosecute you for assault when there were no other witnesses to the sexual assault on Alex. But after this? The DA knows exactly what will happen to him if they proceed to try a wounded combat vet who stopped a rape, when the police let the rapist go. I mean, seriously. This was as bad a case of negligence as I think I’ve ever seen. They looked at you… with your build, your angry face, your scars, and they looked at Randy Brewer, spoiled rich kid, and they jumped to absolutely the wrong conclusion.”

I shook my head. “All right. I don’t really care about all of that. I just want to make sure I’m free to travel, and that Alex is safe. Nothing else matters.”

Ben nodded. “For what it’s worth, Dylan… even though the circumstances are horrible, I’m glad they got the guy.”

The hearing was an anti-climax, taking all of fifteen minutes. Unfortunately, it looked like it was going to take a couple days to free up my bail money. Whatever. I had places to go, and people to see, and still a few thousand dollars in the bank. Time to spend some of it.

It’s about me (Alex)

When the alarm on my phone went off at 5:45 a.m., I quickly rolled over in bed and silenced it. I didn’t want to disturb the rest of my family. With any luck I could be out and back before anybody else woke up.

I slipped into sweats, and, perversely, put on Dylan’s grey Army T-shirt, which hung like a tent on me. I’d appropriated it from him a couple weeks ago. Something about having it here was comforting.

 
Then I tied on my running shoes, put my hair in a messy and quick pony tail, and slowly made my way down the five flights of stairs to the front door, trying desperately to avoid waking anyone.

It was dark and quiet outside, but not the bitter cold I’d grown accustomed to running in. For a second, as I stared out at the darkened street, I felt a tinge of fear. I was used to running in the dark with Dylan. I didn’t realize until now how much safety that afforded me. Safety to run through a city park before the sunrise. Safety to feel free, not afraid of a random mugger or rapist or other dangers in the dark.

As I stretched on the sidewalk in front of our house, I pondered the fact that I’d never felt that kind of fear before. And the irony was, it wasn’t a random stranger who had attacked me. It was someone I’d known since middle school. That’s what the statistics say, of course. The person most likely to rape a woman is always someone she knows.

But the reality was far different from the statistics. The reality was confusing, frightening. It was being too drunk, feeling almost sick, and having someone hold you down while they stuck their hand up your shirt. It was feeling hot, unwelcome breath against my neck. It was the stink of alcohol on his breath as he said, “You know you want it, why are you struggling?”

I didn’t want it. Not from him. Not then, not ever.

I set out, running first up 23
rd
Avenue to Fulton Street, then along the edge of Golden Gate Park. There was little traffic this early in the morning, especially during a holiday week.
 

I worked myself up to a good pace, keeping an eye out for dark corners, places people could hide. Because like it or not, Randy Brewer had changed the way I looked at things. I was making a lot of progress, learning self-defense from Dylan, but I still had a long ways to go. I was going to get there, though. With him or without him.

One thing I knew for sure. I was done being a victim. Never again would anyone hold me against my will, not if there was anything I could do about it.
 

As I reached the end of Fulton Street, I ran toward the beach, then down the sand to the water. The waves were coming in, loud, and I turned and ran along the sand. I’d never run at home before. There was something freeing about it, something that made me feel bigger than I’d ever been before.
 

It was in Dylan’s hands now. I loved him. I knew what I wanted: to spend my life with him. I wanted us to move forward, together, into a life that we could have together. But I needed to know that he was ready to do that. Something in him always pulled back. And all I could do was hope and pray that he’d move past that.
 

If he didn’t, though, I was ready to accept it. I’d always love him. I’d alway care for him. But if I had to say goodbye, I was strong enough to do it now.

I ran for an hour and a half that morning, only finally slowing down a dozen blocks from my parents’ house, coming to a walk two blocks away. I was drenched in sweat, my hair running wet down my back, and I felt absolutely fantastic.

Quietly, I unlocked the front door and went up the stairs.
 

As my foot touched the landing, I heard my mother’s voice. So much for an unobtrusive entry.
 

I sighed, then walked into the kitchen and said, “Good morning.” I walked over and kissed her on the cheek.

Carrie was sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of her. It was so rare that I saw her disheveled that the sight of her now, in a bathrobe, her hair a mess, made me smile. I walked over and kissed her on the cheek, too, then poured myself a giant glass of water and began drinking.

“Good God, you haven’t been out running, have you?” Carrie asked.

My mother looked stunned.
 

“Alexandra Charlotte Thompson, the sun is barely up, and you’ve been out running in the dark? What’s gotten into you? Don’t you know it’s dangerous to run alone at night in the city? Strange men and rapists and God only knows what are out there.”

I finished off my water, then quietly replied, “It’s not the strangers you have to worry about, Mom, it’s the people you know.”

Carrie gave a little gasp, then took a sip of coffee to cover herself.
 

My mother, her face screwed up in consternation, changed the subject. “Where did you get that T-shirt? It’s … truly ugly.”

I smiled. “I feel much better this morning. Thanks for asking, mother. I’ve been out getting my exercise, and I think it’s going to be a fantastic day, don’t you?”

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Of all the children I raised, I never expected to find one of them turning into an athlete, and a morning person at that.”

Carrie burst into laughter. “You can’t control everything, Mom. And personally, I think it’s nice to see Alex happy.”

I was getting my coffee when my mother conceded. “I suppose that’s true. You
were
rather miserable to be around last summer. I suppose you’re finally over that Dylan person.”

I looked at my mother, and said, “It’s not really about him, Mom. It’s about me.”

Mystified, she said, “Well, drink your coffee then. And… it’s nice to see you smiling.”

I sat down and took a sip of my coffee, and my mother wandered off.
 

Carrie gave me a sideways look and said, “Nice T-shirt. Know where I can get one?”

I knocked her in the shoulder, and said, “Get your own. I’m sure you can find a soldier who’ll leave one lying around somewhere or other.”

She smiled, then said, “Ray’s coming to Houston next week.”

I grinned. “I know.”

She smiled back. “I don’t know how serious we are. But… well, he’s a nice change from the guys Mom and Dad are always pushing on me. And the guys in my PhD program?” She mocked a shudder. “Hopeless.”

I whispered, “Can you imagine Mom and Dad’s reaction if we both got serious with former soldiers? Dad would finally keel over from a heart attack.”

“Maybe it would be good for him. You know he’s warming to Crank.”