Falling Under (19 page)

“I thought…if you saw me with other girls, you’d get jealous. And I was…I felt like I’d been waiting for so long, and maybe I was just holding on to how I
used
to feel. So I thought if I dated other girls it’d clarify things. And it did. It showed me I only wanted you. Those girls, they were fun, and cool. But they weren’t you. And yeah, Hattie was a bit…weird. That’s why it only lasted two weeks.”

“Did you have sex with any of them, Ben?” Her voice now is sharp and accusing.
 

The silence is deafening.

“You
did
!” She’s shrill with disbelief. “Yeah, Ben. Really in love with me. Waiting for me, huh? You want to know the truth? No, I haven’t slept with Oz yet. But I’m going to. We care about each other. I’ve waited my entire life for the right time, the right guy. It just possibly could’ve been you. But now…? No. And not just because I’m with Oz. All this? Everything you just told me? Acting like ‘oh, I’m so in love with you,’ and then oh, wait, just kidding, ‘look at all the girls I’ve fucked.’”

“That’s not fair! I didn’t sleep with all of them, only—”

“I DON’T WANT TO KNOW!” She shouts him down. “I don’t care. It’s your business. We’re friends, Ben. That’s all we were, all we are, and all we’ll ever be.”

“There’s no chance?”

“No. None.”
 

“Fine. Fuck you, too, then.” I hear his footsteps moving away.

“Ben! That’s not—fucking
hell
.” A long silence extends, and I imagine her watching him walk away. “Goodbye, Ben.”

A few seconds later, the door opens and she steps in, closing the door behind her. Her head is down, and I can tell she’s crying. She doesn’t see me leaning against the counter until she’s about to run into me.

 
She shrieks and drops her keys. “Oh, my god, Dad! You scared the shit out of me!” She picks up her keys, blinking, trying to act like she wasn’t crying. “Why are you here in the kitchen by yourself? At…1 a.m.? Shit, it’s 1 a.m. I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

“I was waiting for you.”

She seems to realize where I’m standing, and glances at the door. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Pretty much all of it.”

“You can’t just eavesdrop on my private conversations.” She wipes at her eyes with her finger.

“Yes, I can. It’s my job as your father to know what’s going on in your life.” I take her by the shoulders and pull her to me. “I’m sorry about Ben, sweetheart.”

“Did you know how he felt about me?” Her voice is muffled by my shirt.

“Not until recently. Not until Oz showed up, and he started acting weird.”
 

“You didn’t say anything.”

“Should I have? Would it have changed anything? And would you really have thanked me for butting into your life like that? I don’t think so.”

She sniffs. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” She pulls away and sets her keys on the counter, turns to rummage in the fridge for a can of Sprite. “If you heard the whole thing, you probably heard what I said about—about me and Oz.”

“Yeah, I heard that, too.”

She sips, waits. When she realizes I’m not saying anything, she lets out a muffled belch and frowns at me. “And?”

“Well, shit, Kylie. What am I supposed to say? You’re turning eighteen in less than a month. It’s going to happen at some point. And I’m glad you’ve waited this long. I don’t really know how to handle this, Kylie. I don’t. Just being honest. This is one of those moments I don’t think any father is equipped or prepared to deal with. You’re not a grown-up yet, but you’re close. And I know all too well what would happen if I grounded you forever, or tried to keep you from seeing him. I don’t like it. You’re my little girl. My only child. And I want you to stay innocent forever. But you won’t, and I can’t pretend you will. So what do I do? I wish I knew. If I just let you go on with this relationship with Oz, does that make me a bad parent for ignoring what I know for a fact is going on?” I rub my eyes. “And I’m conflicted about Oz. I don’t want you to get hurt and, unfortunately, Ben could be right. I mean, anyone can hurt you, and if you’re in a relationship, you
will
get hurt at some point, somehow. But Oz…there’re warning signs, Kylie. He’s…I’m not saying he’s bad news, or that he’s a bad person. But—”

“I know, Dad. But there’s more to him than everyone seems to see.”

“I know that, Kylie. Like you said, I of all people should know that.” I let out a long breath. I don’t want to bring this up, but I have to. “Have you seen his forearms?”

She closes her eyes and doesn’t answer for a long time. The pain I see in her eyes tells me more than her words can. “Yes. I have.”

“Do you know how he got those scars?”

“Yes. I do.”
 

This is tricky. “Is it an…ongoing thing?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

“But you don’t know for sure.”

She drinks from the can and then sets it on the counter, rotating it so the logo spins and spins and spins. “For one hundred percent sure? No. But…we talked about it.”

“Kylie, listen.” I have to be circumspect about this, careful. “People who…do things to hurt themselves. It’s a warning sign of something deeper going on with them. And there’s nothing anybody can do to help or to fix that person unless they’re ready to be fixed or to be helped.”

“This is about Mom, isn’t it?”

“It’s about Oz, Kylie.”

“I’ve seen Mom’s scars, Dad. I know what they are.”

“I know, hon. That’s from a long, long time ago. She went through a very hard time, and—look, that’s her story to tell you, not mine. But, yeah, I know this because of what your mom went through. And I don’t want to see you go through…that. Being on the other side of that. Self-mutilation is a big deal. If it’s a problem for him, he needs to get help. Help you can’t give. I’m sorry, it’s just the facts.”

Kylie’s gaze is sharp, knowing. “You know about it, too, don’t you? From your own experience.”
 

I sigh, and find myself unwittingly rubbing at my chest, where my own scars lie, hidden by tattoos. “Yeah, I do. I’ve been on both sides.”

Her eyes latch onto my hand, and I drop it. She looks back up at me. “So you…you understand why he’d have the—the compulsion to do that to himself.”
 

I groan. “Yeah. I do.” I don’t want to delve into my own history. Especially not with my daughter. She really doesn’t need to know about the darkness and the skeletons that haunt my past. “If you’re hurting inside, if you’ve been through something really, really painful, sometimes you just want to feel something else. Anything else. Even if you know it’s wrong—that you’re hurting yourself. The people in your life who care about you can find it very tough to get through to you. If the pain inside is big enough and bad enough, you don’t care. You just need an escape, a sense of relief. No matter how fleeting it is. Same with getting high, or wasted all the time. And that lifestyle? It’s bad, Kylie. I don’t want you anywhere near that. It’s dark, and it’s dangerous, and it can suck you under so fast. So fast.”

“He’s not like that.”

“No?”
 

She ducks her head. “You don’t know him, Daddy. You don’t know what he’s been through.”

“I’m not judging him, Kylie. I swear I’m not. I may not know the specifics, but I understand him better than you could ever imagine.” I move closer to her, kiss the top of her head. “But you’re my daughter, and
you’re
my priority. And you getting dragged through the hell someone like Oz has the capacity for, even unwittingly, without meaning to? I can’t stand that. I know I have to let you live your own life, and make your own mistakes and all that, but there’s got to be a limit.”

“So…now what?”

“You’re a smart, responsible girl, Kylie. I trust you. I trust your judgment. You’ve never given me any reason not to. So I’m going to give you your freedom in this, as much as part of me screams otherwise. Just be careful. With him. Around him. Don’t get sucked in. Don’t let him continue to hurt himself. And if he can’t stop, the only thing you might be able to do is to step away and tell him you can’t be with him if he keeps doing it, that you care too much to watch him destroy himself that way. It feels like betrayal, but it’s not.”

She nods. “That makes sense. I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

I narrow my eyes. “As for cigarettes—which I do smell on you—and pot, and drinking…don’t be stupid, Kylie. Just don’t. None of that is worth it. Thinking you’ll only do it when you’re around him is only lying to yourself. And I
will
be watching for that. If I catch you smoking, drunk, or high, you’ll be in trouble. I expect better from you. This is your one warning.” I pause to let that sink in. “As for sex—”

“Got it covered, Dad. Not having that talk with you.” She won’t look at me, toying with the pop-tab on her can of Sprite.

“I’m going to say it anyway. I don’t like it, it makes me uncomfortable, but I’m going to say it anyway. My instinct is to forbid you, to crack down and all that. But unfortunately, I know better. It wouldn’t stop you. So all I’ll say is be careful. Be safe. If he’s been with anyone else, he needs to be tested before anything happens between you two.” She starts to protest, and I talk over her. “Shut up and listen, Kylie. This is awkward for me, too. But If I can’t stop you, I have to make sure you’re safe. You told Ben you haven’t…been with…Oz yet. So take precautions
before
. Be safe in more than one way, okay?” I take a deep breath and force blunt honesty from myself. “That means birth control
and
condoms. God, I hate having to have this conversation. Not just one or the other, but both. No excuses, no exceptions. I do
not
want to be a grandfather for a
very
long time. Got it?”

She nods, still not looking at me. “Yeah. I got it.”

I touch her chin. “Kylie. Look at me.” She does, and I let her see all my fear, all my worry. “I love you, Kylie. Please,
please
…just be safe. Be careful. Not just with your body, but with your heart and soul. And trust me when I say, if Oz does anything to hurt you, he’ll answer to me.”

She lifts her head, her eyes fierce. “No, Dad. He won’t. If I get hurt, it’ll be my own fault. I’m going into this with him knowing he’s…different. He’s not—I don’t know…
tame
. But neither are you, Dad. Are you? And you’re what I know. You’ve been my example in life. You’re not tame, or safe in some ways. And you may not be
nice
, but you’re good. And so is he.”

I nod. “I get it. And I respect that. But my prerogative as your father is to break the face of anyone who fucks with you. And I will, whether you like it or not. So if our boy Oz prefers to have his face in one piece, he’ll treat you like the precious thing you are.”

Her face softens. “He does, Daddy. He really does.”

I hug her. “Good.” Another kiss to the top of her head. “And try to get in before one next time, huh?”
 

She just nods, and I leave her to go upstairs. Nell is standing at the top of the stairs, wrapped in a robe, staring off into space. She follows me into our room, and I close the door.

“She’s all grown up,” Nell says.

“I know.”

“When did that happen?”

I shrug, shake my head. “I don’t know. We blinked, I guess.”

She gives me tender smile. “You’re a good daddy, Colt.”

I sigh. “Am I doing the right thing? Letting her go through with this thing with Oz? It doesn’t feel like it. But mentally, I don’t think I have any other choice.”

She sheds the robe and climbs back into bed, naked. “I think you’re right. I’d rather know what she’s doing, even if I don’t necessarily like it, than forbid her and have her sneaking out.”

“Or worse, running away.” I’m thinking of myself, seventeen and alone in New York. So young, too young to fend for myself. It’s why I swore, when Kylie was young, that I wouldn’t make the same mistakes my parents did. But am I making different ones that are just as bad? I worry that there’s no way to know, and no way to avoid making mistakes as a parent.
 

I shed my shirt and climb in beside Nell, feel her warmth against me and her hair tickling my cheek.
 

No matter how good your kid is, sometimes life has a way of bringing shit to them that no one can foresee or protect against. If that happens to Kylie, I’ll just have to be there to help her get through it.

NINE: Germinating Seeds

Oz

Kylie asked me to get tested, so I did, and came back clean. I sat in the waiting room of her doctor’s office while she got birth control, and then we went together to buy protection. It felt odd, and strangely comforting, to do all that together. As if we were making decisions together, not merely thinking about the moment but looking at the future. As if we’re planning for a future together. The idea gives me hope.
 

She’s eighteen now. I spent her birthday at her parents’ house, eating cake, hanging out, laughing, having fun. All the things I’ve never done on my own birthdays. I gave her a book of sheet music of some of the popular country songs. She loved it.
 

So now she’s eighteen, we’re both tested and protected, and there’s nothing left but the right moment. I’m thinking she deserves better for our first time together—to be somewhere other than in my nasty room on my mattress on the floor. I’ve never been into romantic gestures, but I want to do something. The only problem is, romantic gestures cost money I don’t really have.
 

All that happened a few days ago, and it’s been tense and difficult since then. The doctor was very clear that we couldn’t do anything until the pills had had time to get into her system, and waiting, waiting, waiting has been so hard, so impossible. We have to pull ourselves back from the edge, pull our heated fiery need back, reel in the messy drowning kisses before we get carried away and lose ourselves in each other and forget why we have to wait. We try to distract ourselves with studying for tests and finishing assignments, but it’s hard. We get lost in a delirious fervor, lose ourselves in the silence of my room, kisses stolen in her car, on my bike in a parking lot far from anywhere. A week of hungry looks, and ravenous hands, and roaming trembling bodies.