Changing Tunes (13 page)

I walk into chemistry with trepidation, not knowing what to expect from Zeke. How’s he going to treat me? Is he going to think I’m a slut now? Will he look at me with such distaste that he’ll ask for a new lab partner?

I slide into my seat and see him sitting next to it. He’s staring at me, as if he was waiting for me to walk through the door. I’m a bit lost for words. I didn’t expect to see him change seats and be seated next to mine when I walked in.

Surprising me, he introduces himself. “Hi, I’m Zeke, and I can be an ass sometimes. And you are?”

He’s got a twinkle in his eye and this crooked grin you can’t help but smile back at. “Ashley, and sometimes I’m a bitch.”

He chuckles, “Well, that remains to be seen.”

“Are you kidding?”

“I didn’t exactly make it easy. How about we start with a clean slate. Friends?”

I don’t even have to think about it; I want nothing more. “I’d really like that.” I say, as genuinely as possible.

“Awesome,” he says, rubbing his hands together, “Because we have a lot of work to do.”

The rest of class flows seamlessly. We’re given an assignment and half of class is a lecture, after which we work in pairs. Zeke hangs on every word the professor says. When we begin working together, he’s professional, but witty. He still has a way about him that’s comfortable to be around, and he explains when I don’t understand the material. I understand a lot of it, but I have to work harder in this subject; it doesn’t come to me as easily, and in the interest of our lab partnership, I share this with Zeke. He actually promises to help me any way he can to make sure I understand the material.

We walk out the door together when class is over. “Do you have class tomorrow?” he asks.

“No, tomorrow is my off day, where I spend it studying my butt off.”

“Why don’t we spend Tuesday’s working on the chemistry project?” He hurries on, “It might help you understand the material better, if you want to?”

“No,” I rush out. “I’d really like that.” The excitement of him being in close proximity sends butterflies down to my core.

Lord, have mercy he has a nice smile.

“Awesome,” he says and smiles. “Your place, or mine?” he asks. He emphasizes ‘your place’ and I get the feeling that’s what he would prefer. I remember who lives next to him and quickly say my place. I certainly don’t want to run into Joe.

He tries to catch it, but I see the look of relief. I think about it for just for a moment, wondering what it means. I decide to analyze it later, and we quickly set up a time for tomorrow. He begins walking backwards with this hundred watt smile I can’t help smiling back at. He looks like a little kid in candy store.

“Until tomorrow?” He asks smiling.

“Tomorrow,” I grin back.

He finally turns around, leaving me standing there. I just watch him walk away. I’m sure I look like a moron standing there, but I don’t care.

I’m afraid just being friends with Zeke Whitman is going to be a hell of a lot harder than I think.

I feel my phone vibrate and I yank it out, hoping it will be Mac and not the Warden. Unfortunately, it’s the latter. I know I have to answer this. I can’t avoid him forever, no matter how much I’d like to.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Why haven’t you been answering my messages?” He barks.

“I’ve been busy with school, Dad.” My voice wobbles with my uncertainty at what to say, and how to handle him. I’m scared, but I know he and I have to have a
come to Jesus
talk, and it needs to happen soon. Hopefully, I can put him off for as long as possible.

“Ashley, are you getting distracted by anyone? You seem distracted and not yourself.”

If you mean a tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed boy that wears converse and glasses, then yeah.

“No, I’ve been doing all the work, and my classes are going well. In fact, I have a study group that starts tomorrow. Every Tuesday, in fact.” He doesn’t want to hear me tell him I’m doing well because he goes off. It’s like he was itching for a fight.

“I don’t want to hear you’re doing things you shouldn’t be doing. We certainly don’t want a repeat performance of the end of your senior year. That was bad enough, and my company can’t handle another scandal, especially, coming from the daughter of the President and CEO of the company. The stunt you pulled cost this company greatly. I have a reputation to uphold, and your tumble with that boy cost us. It would be good to remember that, if you think of doing something else stupid. Do you hear me?”

I’m dumbfounded and numb and cold all over. I feel like I’m being assaulted all over again. I feel myself walking backwards and I end up backing up to a bench, and I sit. My breathing picks up and I feel the tears coming. They can’t be contained anymore. Tears fall, but then, all of a sudden, I feel a little bit of the fight come back into me. I’m so tired of being passive, and having the one person in my life, who should be there for me, put me down time and time again. Not to mention, claiming the assault was my fault. I know I should have listened and not been anywhere near that guy, but I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t ask to be held down against my will, to have my free will stripped away from me.

I hear the Warden continue to verbally assault me. My guess is because he didn’t receive a response from me. I replay what I just said in my head.
He’s verbally assaulting me.
My anger rises up a notch, and then I have an out of body experience. I say something I never ever dreamed of saying.

“Dad!” I holler into the phone. “I didn’t ask for that situation to happen.” I choke out.  “I didn’t deserve to have that happen to me; nobody does. I’m sorry.” I quiet my voice a bit, noticing I’m getting some looks with my raised voice. “Dad, I’m working hard, doing all of my work, and I study during my off days. I don’t know what else I can do to make you proud of me.” I sniffle.

He’s silent for a moment before replying, “Watch your tone, Ashley, and do not disrespect me. I expect you to answer the phone when I call. If I text you, then I demand a response. Do not disappoint me.”

And with those last words, he’s gone. I get up, knowing I just need to get home. I need my bed. I quickly make my way home. I hurry to my door, opening it as I hear, “Hey, Ashley, how’s it going.” I quickly try to put a smile on my face.

“Oh, hi, Austin, good. I’ll talk to ya later, okay? I’ve got to do something.”

“Are you okay? It looks like you’ve been crying. Do I need to pummel someone’s ass for you?”

The thought of Austin kicking my dad’s ass actually puts a smile on my face. “Thanks for asking, Austin, I appreciate it, but no thanks. I’ve got it taken care of.” He nods his head and I walk through the door and into my sanctuary. I drop onto my bed, throwing the covers over my head.

He doesn’t care about me, and he just proved it today. He’s so concerned about his precious reputation, and he actually thinks what happened to me was my fault. I’d give anything, anything to have my mom. To have someone to go to and hold me, someone to wipe my tears and tell me everything is okay; someone who will stand up for me to my dad. As much I crave to have my mom be that person, she’s not here, and hasn’t been for years. That falls on me and me alone, and I decide, here and now, I have to do something about it.

This is my first year of college, and it’s barely begun. Something has to give, if I’m going to make some changes. I sit up and wipe the tears from my face, grabbing my purse and yanking out my phone. I text Mac, asking where she is. Less than ten seconds later she replies she’s almost home. Right after that, she asks if I’m okay. I reply that I will be.

Relief washes over me, and I realize how stunned I am that she is my go-to person. The person that I run things through, someone I know will always have my back. I never saw that as a possibility, ever, not with anyone. She’s the one constant, and even though I haven’t known her very long, sometimes…sometimes you just know. I’ve been around enough people to know sincerity when I see it. Mac doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. She’s the kind of person that when she cares, she cares all the way. Throwing one hundred percent in to every friendship. Every time I’ve told her something horrible I’ve done, she’s never judged me. She let me start from scratch, and she doesn’t see me as damaged. She sees me as someone worth giving her time to. She’s my best friend. I say it out loud, testing the phrase out. It feels really good to say, and I smile as I say it again. Mac is someone who is with you for the long haul; she’s proved it time, and time again. 

I walk to the couch and sit, grabbing my legs and tucking them into me, wrapping my arms around them and wait for Mac. Barely two minutes later, she comes barreling through the door and throws her stuff down on the floor. She has a look of alarm on her face.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me nothing because I can tell.” She sits down, crossing her legs in front of her and waits for me to explain.

I rest my case
. This girl knows me better in just a couple of weeks than Miranda ever did, and I grew up with Miranda.

“The Warden called me and he was pissed.”

Mac smirks, “Why? Because you didn’t answer his text in a ‘timely fashion’?” She uses air quotes when she speaks.

“Yes. That, and a couple of other things he brought up.” I tell her the whole conversation, and I watch her face go from stoic, to angry, to royally pissed. She shakes her head when I tell her about the embarrassment my father felt over the ‘indiscretion’ he believes was my fault. I don’t miss the
bastard
that escapes her mouth. When I finish, she sits back and says, “I’m proud of you, Ash, you didn’t roll over. You handled yourself better than you ever have before. You didn’t back down or remain submissive. You stood up for yourself. Now that is the Ash I know.” She’s quiet for a bit, deep in thought. Finally, she asks, “How far are you willing to go to gain some control of your life?”

“What do you mean?”

“You are stuck under his thumb in every way possible. Imagine if you could be free. Imagine if you had the capacity to show your dad you aren’t going to back down, and you can be independent.”

“How would I do that?” I ask curiously. I’m at the point where I will do just about anything to gain some control of my life. “What are you suggesting? Because I’m game for anything at this point.”

“This is just a guess, but I have a feeling your dad probably paid the first year for your housing and tuition. Am I correct?”

I nod my head, confirming her suspicions.

“Excellent,” she says, rubbing her hands together in excitement. This is what we are going to do. “We know you’re safe this year, since he’s already paid for your tuition and housing.”

I begin to see where she’s going with this, but let her continue.

“You can tell me no, Ash, the choice is yours, but if you want to get out from under his thumb, then you need to do something drastic to show him you mean business. Take his control away.” She takes a deep breath and continues, “This also means being responsible and taking care of your tuition and housing yourself, no more of daddy’s money. You will need to be financially responsible on your own. You know that’s going to be the first thing he throws in your face.”

I nod; she’s right, he definitely will use it to try and control me. The funny thing is I have never cared about money. It’s always been important to him, though.

“But you have time, Ash. You can begin to pull away slowly, but sophomore year, you need to be ready to have financial aid. Fill out every grant you can find to help pay for your college and housing. There are so many out there, and I know you’d qualify. I’m sure he had high expectations when you were in high school regarding your grades, right?”

“Are you kidding? He expected nothing less, he would have flayed me for sure.” I say.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Mac says, smiling. “So hit him where it counts, below the belt, so to speak. Take care of yourself financially, and he can’t control you through the money. Keep in mind he’s sure to take your new car.”

Truthfully, I never gave a damn about the car. The car was his idea, and it was all about impressions. He knows people here. What would it look like to have his precious daughter riding around in a less than stellar car? In his eyes that would look very bad. I never asked for it, so he can certainly have it back.

“I don’t care about the car. I never did.” I whisper quietly.

‘You’ve got this, Ash. You have a whole year to confront him. He can’t do anything except take your car away. Imagine how you will feel when you’re able to take the classes you want to take. To be whom you want to be. What do you want to be when you grow up, Ash?”

It’s a thought I have never entertained. Never in a million years. Who do I want to be? When I came here, I had resigned myself that this was my life and there was no changing it. That’s what I had to look forward to. For the first time, I see a glimmer of hope, and it is all because of Mac.

I sheepishly look at her and say, “I couldn’t do this without you. I would never have had the courage to do this without you.”

“What are best friends for?” she laughs, but quickly turns serious again. “Actually, I don’t believe that for a moment. I think you definitely would have taken the leap to separate yourself from your dad. Not now, probably, but eventually. I just think you needed a good friend to be there for you.”

“A best friend,” I say a little bit in awe. “I’ve never had one before.”

“You do now, girl. I’ve got your back.”

“I’ve never had anyone have my back before, either. They always wanted to talk shit about me, which I deserved.” I hang my head in shame.

“From what you told me, you were a bitch, but you haven’t been since I met you. You aren’t that person anymore. Remember? This is the year of starting over. This is your new beginning.”

A weight lifts off me, and I feel like a renewed person. Okay, maybe not renewed, but a better, more improved person. Someone I can actually like. Maybe someone worth loving, down the road. I’m not sure why, but my mind wanders to Zeke and then he’s all I see.