CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
⬠⬠⬠⬠â¬
2019
The difference in my mood before, during, and after being with Chase was staggering.
Even though we'd been at it for months at that point and I should've grown accustomed to it a long time ago, the mood whiplash still found a way of always sneaking up on me and leaving me to wonder if I really was that unbearable to be around. It made me wonder whether that was how I came across to Chase or not as well, an annoying child who was obsessed with a shiny new object, moody and spiteful whenever I couldn't get what I wanted. The repetitive character of it all wasn't lost on me and, if I'd managed to annoy myself by falling prey to the worst parts of my personality, I couldn't even begin to fathom the effect it had on other people.
I sat in my car, alone, after the ever so common walk of shame from Chase's apartment to my parking spot. I had to keep my distance for appearances' sake, pretending I didn't exist or would never be seen in the neighborhood, and, though I hadn't had to walk too far and had been going to the gym, I still felt strangely exhausted from the physical strain.
Dawn was breaking and I still had to head back to my apartment to shower, as I had class in just a few hours, but I couldn't bring myself to start the car. Instead, I sat there without bothering to try and warm up, the strong, salty scent of the take-out I'd brought and thrown out filling the space around me, and I couldn't tell whether I was trembling all over, my lips included, because of the cold or because I had, once again, hurt my own stupid feelings. In reality, I wasn't certain what I was so upset over, but one quick glance at my reflection in the rear-view mirror was more than enough to make it all worse.
Now that the thrill of sneaking around and feeling wanted had subsided, giving place to the usual dull ache in my chest, the awareness of how bad I looked hit me like a punch to the gut.
I hadn't been getting much rest lately, both thanks to college-related stress and to my chronic anxiety, and the circles under my eyes could easily pass off as bruises. There was no golden hour in this city, most certainly not during the winter, and I hadn't seen the sun in so long that the early morning light, weak and gray, only made my skin look more ashen. I'd tried to sleep, but ended up sneaking out of Chase's bed after hours of tossing and turning, my makeup smudged down my cheeks, and I looked younger. If anything, I looked my age for once in my life, after years and years of attempting to appear older to fit into crowds I didn't belong to, and, for the first time, I allowed myself to think of the girl in the mirror as fragile. It was a horrible thing to do in a city like this, with danger lurking around every corner, and I couldn't afford to be that vulnerable again. Chase wouldn't always be there to rescue me, no matter how hard I reached out to him, and there were times when I had to, at the very least, protect myself from ending up in those situations if I couldn't safely leave them.
I didn't want the remainder of my college years to be like that, though. I wanted to live, to enjoy the college experience, and that meant I had to enjoy the social aspects of it, not just locking myself in my apartment to study and attending lectures. I was so preoccupied with my relationship with Chase and everything it entailedâthe secrecy, the responsibility, the weight on my shouldersânot to mention the consequences of the frat party that I didn't have the mental energy to worry about anything else. I was in my twenties, acting so much older than that, and felt like my whole life was being wasted. I could have been out partying with my friends, yet there I was, sitting in my car miles away from home and wondering how I would get the smell of take-out out of my hair and clothes.
Letting out a shaky sigh, I wiped my cheeks with the heels of my hands, and took one last look at Chase's apartment. Everything was peaceful and quiet, like it belonged to a fairy tale, and I found myself wondering if all of this would be worth it in the end, if I'd look back at this moment in a few years and be grateful I'd have to put myself through this emotional strain for the sake of delayed intense gratification.
Guilt struck me right through the chest the moment that thought crossed my mind, and I cowered back in shame.
Hadn't I been the one to pursue him, to invite him into my apartment, into my bed? Hadn't I been the one to run after him, time and time again, to convince him I was deserving of these risks and sacrifices? Hadn't I been the one to beg him for a chance? Hadn't I been the one to blame for everything that had happened? Even when I let him handle the difficult decisions, even when I let him take control because he was older and wiser, all of this had been my responsibility. I'd dragged him down with me, ignored and invalidated all his protests, and might as well have made him doubt everything he'd ever known. There were rules in place, rules to protect me and destroy him, and I'd forced him to ignore all of them, throw all caution to the wind, and that was not who he was.
He wasn't destructive, I was.
My mind took me back to what he'd said about Savannah, about how she'd gaslighted me, and the harrowing terror that came with brutal realizations shook my entire car.
Hadn't I been doing the exact same thing to Chase? Hadn't I manipulated him into trusting me in spite of his reservations to do so? Hadn't I manipulated him into this relationship?
My fault. My fault. My fault.
I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned even whiter, the veins on my hands ready to burst. They were blue, so blue, as blue as his eyes, and, somehow, that made it all so much worse. Swallowing my nausea, my sobs, my doubts, I kicked the engine back to life, and dared to look away from the building.
It would have to be worth it. If not for me, then for him. After everything I'd put him through and would continue to, it would have.
⬠⬠⬠⬠â¬
I somehow survived the rest of the spring semester and finished my first year of college with moderately good grades.
How, I wasn't sure, but I suspected it had been thanks to a dangerous combination of caffeine in all shapes and formsâcoffee, hot and iced, energy drinks, black teaâSavannah's sudden determination to be academically inclined (I was assuming Ingrid being a pre-med student had weighed considerably in her decision, but she would never admit to it) and refusal to do it without me, who took all the same classes she did, and my crippling people-pleasing tendencies, which rendered me unable to be okay with disappointing my professors. Either way, I'd made it out, and had rewarded myself with a new hair colorâa richer, lighter shade of brown, almost copper-like when the right light hit it and made me look more mature, more alive.
Though I'd done it for myself, feeling like I needed to change something about myself to make looking in the mirror a bit more bearable, Chase liked the new color, which was an added bonus and provided my self-esteem with an extra boost. I didn't want to be the type of girl who would repeatedly change her appearance just to please a man and attempted to convince myself this wasn't the case, as he hadn't asked me to do it or dropped any indirect hints that I should do it, but I also couldn't lie to myself and say I didn't care. I wore that praise like a badge of honor, despite knowing just how stupid and desperate that made me look.
As summer started and I started feeling warm again, the light of freedom illuminated my path forward, urging me to keep holding on to the thought that I'd left one year of college behind me. For the first time in forever, I was finally able to be optimistic, convincing myself I could make the most of the college experience I still had leftâwhile simultaneously looking forward for it to end, a moment that would mark a colossal change in my relationship with Chase. Three more years and a few months after that, and he could be mine in public, not just conditionally and in secluded spaces, no matter how beautiful they were.
At the same time, the beginning of summer also meant part of my freedom would come to an end in little to no time, fading right back into gray monotony. As soon as sophomore year started, I would be living with Ingrid and Savannah; though I was still thankful they hadn't been fighting as much and knew they had my back, the liberty to enter and exit the apartment as I pleased would also be shot dead the moment I fully moved in. My personal life was the furthest thing from interesting, which would make it even more suspicious to return as soon as the sun rose in the horizon, and would put the entire secrecy of my relationship at stake.
I still wanted to give myself the benefit of the doubt, believing I could survive one summer without breaking down, but then the notification came.
I was lucky Chase was with me that morning, preparing two glasses of rosé in the kitchen, as I returned with my mail in hand. I didn't get a lot of correspondence, mostly handling everything through email, as I found it unbearable to speak to people on the phone, so the letter instantly caught my eye before I opened it.
Something in my facial expression must have reflected the panic spreading across my chest in gelid waves, as Chase immediately set the bottle aside when I walked in. I didn't want to start bawling in front of him like a child with no skills to deal with frustration, but all the air had been sucked out of the kitchen, the apartment, my lungs, and I couldn't tell whether the pulsing, dull sound in my ears was real or if it was just my thundering heartbeat. I couldn't even see a thing in front of me, not even Chase, the only person I wanted to see me, and it wouldn't be long before the ground cracked open to swallow me whole.
I somehow found my way to the living room couch, heaving and whimpering, and Chase almost had to pry the crumpled up paper from my closed fist, like it was my dirtiest, most dangerous secret. If anything, I felt both disgusted and disgusting over all of it, like everything I'd tried so hard to keep buried had surfaced all at once, engulfing me in a tidal wave of shame.
"It's a subpoena," I told him, my knee brushing against his in what felt like too scandalous a gesture considering the contents of the letter, like even this would be used against me. All about me and my life could easily be used as an excuse to invalidate my testimony and my experienceâI had famous parents, I was protected and privileged, I actively sought the attention and affection of men, I felt the best when I felt wanted and desired. Somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred, and I wasn't sure how to even justify my behavior and my decisions. There used to be a line there. "Even if I wanted to ignore it, I couldn't."
"Do you have an attorney?" he questioned, his free hand pressing against my knee so I'd stop bouncing my leg up and down like a jackhammer. Such a light touch nearly set me on fire and, if I couldn't be on my best behavior then, in the quiet safety of my loft, I knew I wouldn't be reliable enough in court.
"A state-appointed one. She's handling the whole thing." I sniffled, pressing my crossed arms against my stomach in hopes it would quiet my earth shaking nausea. "My parents have one, but I couldn't ask for their help. They don't know about any of this."
"Penn." He said my name so patiently, so quietly it shattered me. I could collapse into a million little pieces, and it would never be enough to feel worthy of all of this. "I think you should talk to them, get proper legal advice. You can ask your attorney for a closed session; that way, nothing will ever come out. Everything you say will stay between those four walls."
"I can't. I can't have them find out about this; they'll be disappointed in me, and they might try to pull me out of school. I can't leave. This is all I've ever wanted, and I can't lose it. Not because of . . ." I gulped, though it did little to clear the blockage in my throat. All I could do was inhale the smoke until it started poisoning me from the inside out. "I can ask this attorney for the closed session, right? If I don't want any of it to come out?"
He let out a deep sigh, charged with an emotion I couldn't quite identify. "I mean, yeah, as long as you're sure she's minimally competent and can convince the court to close the session for every single witness. You'll have to tread carefully."
Chase didn't elaborate on that last comment, but I could read between the lines, the ones that hadn't blurred, and knew what he was hinting at.
I couldn't give anyone, especially the opposing defending team, any excuses to doubt my character or my testimony, and that included being the only one to get special treatment. I doubted any of the other girls would be comfortable with such intimate details of their lives being put on blast for the entire world to see and judgeâthere was already enough judgment surrounding us; we didn't need even more strangers deciding they had the right to decide what to do with our bodies and our autonomyâbut I knew stuff could always leak and I also hadn't kept in touch with anyone else. I'd closed myself off, locked that door even when people attempted to reach out, and decided I'd fight my battles by myself, for myself, without bothering to acknowledge this didn't just involve me. All those other girls, all those unheard voices.
I had to be perfect. I had to be believable. I couldn't give anyone a reason to poke holes into my story, make it sound like I'd had it coming, like I'd done anything wrong, especially by resorting to physical actions to defend myself. I couldn't even say Chase had pulled me out of a falsely burning building.
It would be like therapy, then, when I could only be honest to a certain extent. I had to be honest on a need-to-know basis, avoiding mentioning any unnecessary details that could discredit me. I couldn't drag Chase into this mess any further, either.
His arm wrapped around my waist and I rested my head on his shoulder, willing myself to not forget about these momentsâthe genuine moments, the ones where it was just me and him and each other's breathing and heartbeats. It was the only good thing I had, and I could so easily lose it.
⬠⬠⬠⬠â¬
i got taylor tickets and all it took was my dignity
no one asked, but this is now 99k words long on google docs. we're past the middle point of the book so don't worry lol