Going Under (22 page)

I smiled and shook my head.

“Do you need some water or something?” Ryan
asked. “You were screaming like a banshee.”

I smacked his arm. And then I nodded.

Ryan moved to stand up, but I caught his
arm.

“Ryan, why are you doing all these
incredible things to me, but you won’t let me do things to you? And
don’t say I’m not ready yet.”

Ryan thought for a moment.

“Do you think the things I do to you are
solely for your pleasure?” he asked.

I was dumbfounded.

“I’m not looking for things to be even
between us, Brooke,” Ryan said after a moment. “I’m looking for
them to be right.”

I didn’t think I understood the definition
of selflessness until that moment. It was too heavenly. No one was
that good. And for the first time, I wondered about Ryan’s secret
sins.

***

I didn’t want Cal to pick me up at my house.
I didn’t want my father to see. I didn’t want Ryan rolling down the
sidewalk on his skateboard to see. I wasn’t even sure why I was
going on this date. After my last afternoon with Ryan, I thought my
entire world shifted. My entire purpose. I no longer cared about
revenge and guilt and victims. I cared about being with a boy who
was nice to me, who treated me like I was the most important person
in his life. A boy who made me laugh, talk my head off, say silly
embarrassing things, come like an exploding star.

I even thought I could paint again. I had
not picked up my brush since trying to paint the fall leaves. But I
thought I could do it now. And I thought it could be good enough to
hang in a gallery and fetch thousands of dollars. I decided this
weekend to spend time with Ryan, to fill up on his goodness, and to
paint.

I wanted to meet Cal at the bowling alley. I
told him about the change of plans at school, and I waited until
the end of the day to do it. He wasn’t happy about it. He told me
that guys were supposed to pick up girls for dates.

“Really?” I asked. “Where’d you hear
that?”

“It’s common knowledge, Brooke,” Cal said,
completely missing my sarcasm. “I can’t even take this date
seriously if you don’t let me pick you up.”

“I’d just rather make it more casual the
first time,” I said, feeling myself getting backed into a corner.
He was insistent.

“No,” Cal replied. “Look, I’m not a text guy
or a ‘Go Dutch’ guy. I’m not an ‘I’ll just meet you there’ kind of
guy. I’m old school, Brooke. I pick up a girl. I take her out. I
pay for it. And then I call her the next day, not text her. I
call
her to see if she had a nice time.”

Suddenly he was Prince Charming.

I fidgeted uncomfortably.

“Stop fidgeting, Brooke,” Cal said. “You’re
a grown-ass woman. Start acting like one and let me pick you
up.”

“I
am
acting like one!” I cried.

“Good. Then I’ll be at your door at
seven.”

I stood in the living room peering out the
window every three seconds. As soon as I saw Cal pull up, I’d
sprint out the door before he could make it up the walkway. I
should have just explained to Dad that I was going on a few dates
with different boys to see which one “fit.” That way he wouldn’t
wonder about Ryan. But it sounded like something a college girl
would do. High schoolers didn’t date around. We were in committed
relationships, even if they only lasted two weeks at a time.

“Brooke! Get in here!” Dad called from the
kitchen.

“I’m waiting for my ride, Dad,” I called
back.

“Get in here now!”

I hadn’t heard my dad talk to me like that
since I let our dog go outside to potty without a leash. I was ten
years old. I thought Poppy could handle it. She was always so good.
Well-behaved. Plus, I was in the middle of painting my fingernails.
I couldn’t run the risk of messing up my nails by putting on her
leash. Well, she ran away and never came back. Dad lit into me and
told me I could forget about ever having another dog because I was
too self-absorbed. I cried for a week.

I was reluctant to leave the window, but I
knew better than to keep Dad waiting. I sprinted to the
kitchen.

“Yes, Daddy?” I asked.

“Don’t ‘Daddy’ me,” he snapped. “What the
hell is this?” he asked holding up a bill.

“I don’t know,” I replied.

“It’s our cell phone bill,” he said. “Now,
do you want to tell me what all these charges are about?”

“What charges?”

“God, Brooklyn! This is a five hundred
dollar bill! Who the hell have you been talking to? How much data
can you possibly use in a month? You got your GPS permanently on?
Are you texting while you drive? Surfing the web in class?”

“Dad, take it easy,” I said. “I barely use
my phone.” It was the dumbest lie I’d ever told, and the bill
proved it.

Dad looked at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Give it to me.”

“Huh?”

“Your phone, Brooke. Give it to me.”

“Dad!”

“I’m serious. You’re done. No phone for . .
. a month!”

“What the fu—”

“Go ahead and say it,” Dad warned. “I’ll
make it a year.”

“Dad!! You’re being unreasonable! And
anyway, I have a date tonight. I need it to get in touch with
you!”

“A date? With Ryan? I don’t think so. You
talk to him enough on the phone,” he said, waving the bill in my
face.

“It’s not with Ryan,” I said. “It’s with
some other dude.”

“What happened to Ryan? I thought you were
in love with Ryan,” Dad said.

“I am so not discussing this with you!”

“Well guess what, missy? I’m the parent
here. I get to know what you’re doing, where you’re going, and who
you’re going with. So I guess you
so
will be discussing this
with me. Now hand it over.”

“No!”

“Brooklyn, hand over that damn phone.”

“Dad, I cannot survive without my cell
phone. Please. You don’t understand. I need it.”

“What the hell is happening to kids these
days?” Dad lamented.

“Dad, please. I’ll pay the cell phone bill.
I’ve got enough to pay it. More than enough,” I pleaded.

Dad looked at me and sighed. “I don’t want
you to use all your money to pay this bill, Brooke. I want you to
be responsible. Ever heard of it? Responsibility?”

I nodded my head vigorously.

“I want you to save your money,” Dad
continued. “And stop texting so damn much.”

“Do I really text that much?” I asked,
grabbing the bill and scanning the charges.

“Yes!”

“I’m really sorry, Dad. I am. Maybe I need
to change my plan.”

“Maybe you need to stop using that thing
like a lifeline. Go do your painting or something. Read a book,
Brooke. Go to the park. Disconnect for Christ’s sake.”

“You’re right, Dad. Absolutely. I hear you
one hundred percent.”

“Oh, stop humoring me. That’s more
infuriating than this bill.” Dad rubbed his forehead. “Now tell me
who this guy is.”

“Gross. You really want to know?” I
asked.

“If you’re spending the evening with him and
he’s driving you, you bet I do,” Dad replied.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, but I have to
tell you really fast because he’ll be here any minute.”

Dad nodded.

“He’s some dude at school who knows Ryan
likes me and is trying to get me to like him, so he asked me out on
a date, and I agreed just to get it over with. I figured after
tonight he won’t be too interested in me anymore.”

“What, you plan on throwing the date?” Dad
asked.

“Sort of,” I replied. That was another lie.
I had no plans to throw this date. I was going to be my charming,
sweet, good girl self. I was going to make Cal burn with jealousy
after tonight.

“Does Ryan know you’re going on a date with
this guy?” Dad asked.

“No, and I don’t want him to ever find out.
I’m just doing it so this guy will get off my back. Do you
understand?”

“You think this is a good idea? I can just
tell whoever this is that you’re not interested. I can say it while
I’m holding my gun,” Dad offered.

“No! No, Dad. I can handle it. Just please
don’t tell Ryan about any of this.”

“I think this kind of deception got you in
trouble in the past, Brooke.”

Bullet to the heart, and Dad wasn’t even
holding his gun.

“I’m not judging. I’m just saying that you
seem to carry around a lot of guilt. I mean, is this the only way
to show this guy you’re not interested in him? Does he not
understand that ‘no’ means ‘no’?”

How could I possibly explain to my dad that
I was actually doing this for Beth? That I was doing it to repent
for my sins, to clear the guilt? I realized the date seemed
convoluted to Dad, but I could never in a million years tell him
the real reason. If I did, Cal would be dead in a puddle of blood
on our front porch.

“Trust me, Dad. You know how people learn
differently? Some are visual learners? Some are auditory learners?
Some are hands-on?”

Dad nodded, the side of his mouth turning up
in a grin.

“Well, this Cal dude is definitely not an
auditory learner. That’s why ‘no’ doesn’t work. He’s a hands-on
kind of guy. So I’m going to let him take me bowling, and then
he’ll see why I’m the last person in the world he wants to
date.”

Dad’s face sported a full smile now. I think
I made him proud in that moment.

“You’re not going to let him put his hands
on you, are you?”

“Gross, Dad.”

“Well, you’re telling me he’s a hands-on
kind of guy. He puts them on you and he’s dead.”

“Dad, relax. I didn’t mean ‘hands-on’ that
way,” I said.

He grunted and tossed the cell phone bill on
the kitchen table. Just then the doorbell rang, and I kissed him
goodbye.

“Can’t I meet him?” Dad asked.

“No,” I said. “I’m taking my cell phone. And
I’ll call you before I come home.”

“You have a curfew, you know,” Dad said.

“I do? This is new.”

The doorbell rang again.

“Yeah, you do. Now what’s the standard
curfew for a girl your age?” Dad asked.

“Are you for real? You know, I didn’t think
for a second you’d actually make me hand over my phone,” I said,
walking to the front door.

“Give me an hour, Brooke!” Dad called, still
standing in the kitchen.

“One!” I called back.

“Nope! Try again!”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I mumbled, reaching
for the door handle. “I didn’t come home from that party with
Gretchen until one!”

“Yeah, and that’s the last time for
that!”

I rolled my eyes. “Midnight!”

“Still not happy!”

“Dad, oh my God!” I yelled, opening the
door. “Eleven!”

“Better! I love you! Be safe!”

“I love you, too!” I called, pushing Cal out
of the way.

“Shouldn’t I meet your dad or whatever,” he
asked, following me down the walkway.

“Another time,” I said.

Oh. My. God.

I wasn’t told about the double date, and
neither was Gretchen evidently. We stared at one another shocked,
and then excused ourselves to the bathroom.

“What are you doing here with Parker?” I
hissed.

“What are you doing here with that guy?” she
shot back. “What happened to Ryan?”

I hated lying to Gretchen. She could always
see through the lies, but she never called me out on them. She just
waited until I finally caved and told the truth. I think it was
satisfying for her, watching me squirm for minutes or days or
however long it took before I finally came clean.

“I can’t tell you, Gretchen, but I don’t
like Cal, and I think I’m completely falling in love with Ryan and
if you mess this up for me I’ll—”

“Relax,” Gretchen said. “But you’ve gotta do
better than that. We’re not leaving this bathroom until you tell me
why you’re on a date with him.”

“Me? What about you? Why are you on a date
with Parker? I told you he’s a dick.”

“Yeah? Well I wanted to find out for myself.
He was really nice at the party, and I want to get to know him
better.”

How on earth could I tell Gretchen that I
thought Parker was a rapist? How could I tell her that I knew Cal
was? I was trapped. It was as simple as that. I had to come clean.
I had to tell her what I was doing.

“Okay, Gretchen? I will tell you everything
that’s going on. I swear to God I will. But we’ve got to get
through this date first.”

Gretchen nodded.

“Which means we have to walk out of this
bathroom acting normal,” I explained.

“Totally.”

“Now, you’re gonna see me flirting with Cal
and acting like a little good girl, okay?” I said. “Just go with
it. Don’t mention anything about me going to Hanover High last
year. Don’t mention anything about anyone from my past. And
especially don’t mention Beth.”

“Huh?” Gretchen immediately looked
concerned.

“Please, Gretchen. I’m begging you. Just go
along with my flirting and sweet girl persona and don’t mention
anything about my past.”

“What if they ask?”

“Just say we know each other from ballet. We
used to take ballet together and stayed friends.”

Gretchen nodded. “I feel super weird right
now.”

“No you don’t,” I said. I couldn’t hide the
panic in my voice. “You don’t feel weird at all. We’re gonna bowl.
It’s gonna be great. And we know each other from ballet.”

“Got it. Ballet.”

We emerged from the bathroom giggling
because I said we needed to and approached the waiting boys.

“We’ve got shoes and balls,” Cal said, and
Gretchen burst out laughing. I couldn’t help but grin.

“That’s what we hope,” Gretchen said, and
Parker’s face broke out in a grin as well.

Cal smirked and handed me my size 6 shoes
and the ten-pound ball I asked for.

“Now how should we do this?” he asked the
group as we made our way to Lane 7.

“You mean teams?” I asked. “I thought I’d be
with you.” I sat beside Gretchen as we pulled on our bowling
shoes.