I’ve gotten thirteen missed calls from my mom and seven from my dad. They know about Ryan and me. They must. Usually if I miss a call, they’ll just send me a quick message, but not this time. This time they just leave voicemails asking me to call them and keep trying to call me again and again. When I try to appease them with a text, telling them I’m spending the weekend with Sam, they don’t let it go, and they keep trying to call. I can’t bear the thought of them thinking I did what Ryan thinks I did. They love Ryan, have known him since he was a baby. I know they’ll be so disappointed in me, so angry, but I’d rather that than they know the truth. I can’t stand to think of them knowing that, and that’s just how it’s going to have to be. I’ll have to deal with them thinking less of me and just go from there.
My phone rings again in my hand. I have to answer it, I just have to. It’s almost time for Thanksgiving break, and although Tina’s offered for me to go back to her place with her, I know I have to go back home. I want to go back home. If I’m home, it means Ryan’s not too far away from me. He can’t ignore me there. He’s only four houses down from me there. He’ll have to talk to me. He’ll just have to.
“Hello?” I finally pick up the phone. My voice is quieter than normal—well, what was normal before that night with Robbie. Ever since then, it’s been quiet, stilted, broken…a bit like me really.
“Becca? Honey? Are you there?”
“Yeah Mom,” I reply after a pause. “I’m here.”
She lets out a sigh, a sigh of relief, I think. “Oh honey, are you okay? I’ve been so worried about you.”
Tears pool in my eyes. I feel like all I ever do these days is cry, but the concern in her voice just makes me realize how much I miss her, how much I wish she was here right now and could just wrap me up in a hug and tell me everything is going to be okay, just like she did when I was little—only she can’t do that now. Now I’m twenty years old and have to deal with things on my own, and as much as I hate it, as much as I don’t want it to be true, I honestly believe nothing will ever be the same again—I will never be the same again. “I’m okay,” I manage to force out. It’s a total lie; I’ve never been so far from okay in my whole life.
There’s a pause, and I know she’s trying to think of the best way to say it, to tell me she knows about Ryan and me. Finally she lets out a sigh. “Honey, why didn’t you tell me about you and Ryan?”
Tell her what? That the boy she thinks of as a son believes I slept with his archrival, who then pressed assault charges because Ryan was so upset at me, he beat the crap out of said rival? That in actual fact, I didn’t sleep with him, but that he raped me at a party, and now my whole world is in complete shambles? Yeah, I didn’t really know how to have that conversation.
“How did you find out?” I ask her instead.
“Kathy told me.”
I close my eyes at this. I hadn’t really thought about Ryan’s parents. I’ve been so wrapped up in just trying to make it through the days, I didn’t think about what they would think of me. Ryan’s mom is the kindest, sweetest woman on earth. She’s the type who would do anything for me, who’d see something in the shops, and if she thought I’d like it, would just buy it for me, just because. And his dad, his loud, friendly, loving dad, who is genuinely interested in everything I do and just took it for granted that at any family event, I’d be there, because to him, I’m a part of their family—was a part of their family.
“Did she tell you why?”
She pauses again, for a second too long. “Honey, I don’t believe it. I know there must be a mistake, an explanation.” My heart squeezes at how eager she sounds, how much she trusts me and believes I could never do something like this, and I want to tell her she’s right, tell her I didn’t do what everyone thinks I did—but then I imagine her face if I did tell her the truth. The horror and desperation would overwhelm her, and I know it’s better this way, to continue this lie I didn’t start but has taken hold and gotten so big that sometimes even I question what really happened.
“It’s true, Mom,” I tell her. “I did it.”
I hear her suck in a breath, but she doesn’t say anything. I want to fill the silence with words, words to reassure her, words to reassure me, but I can’t. I can’t say anything. At this point, I have no words left.
“Are you seeing this new boy now?”
“No!” My voice is sharp, too sharp. “It was a mistake. A stupid, stupid mistake. I want to fix things with Ryan.”
“Oh, Becca.”
“He won’t talk to me, Mom.”
“Do you want me to come over there? I can get on a flight tonight.”
I’m shaking my head, even though she can’t see it. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m fine.”
“Honey—”
“Mom, seriously. I’ll be home in a week anyway. I promise I’m fine.”
“Actually, honey, that’s one of the reasons I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. Your father and I were thinking it might be nice for us to come to you for Thanksgiving this year, and then we thought we could go on vacation for Christmas.”
“What?” No, no, no, that’s not the plan. I don’t want them to come here. I want to go back to Maxwell, back to my house, back to the same street where Ryan lives, where he can’t ignore me, where I can make him listen to me, back to where I can try to make things right between us.
“Yeah, we’ve already booked the flights to you and I’ve booked a great place where we can go for lunch.” I hear her swallow down the line. “And you know how much your father loves Hawaii, so we were thinking we could go there for Christmas and we saw a great deal, so we just thought, why not, and booked it.”
“Mom—”
She cuts me off. “Honestly, honey. I think the break will be good for all of us. We could do with a change of scenery and a break in the sun to look forward to. Aunt Ruth is even looking into flights to see if they can come out and join us for a few days.”
“Mom, what? I don’t want you to come here. I want to go home.”
“Becca—”
“And I can’t go to Hawaii for Christmas break. I need to be back in Maxwell. I don’t want to go to Hawaii.”
“Why not?” She lets out a nervous laugh. “Who doesn’t want to go to Hawaii?”
“Mom, I want to be at home. I need to be a home.”
She sighs. “Honey, honestly, I think it’s best if we get out of town, just for a couple weeks.”
“But I need to see Ryan.”
“Honey.” She pauses. “Baby, I’m sorry. He doesn’t want to see you.”
All the air leaves my lungs at this admission. To hear that she knows something I don’t and is willing to come out here and book a vacation to keep me away from there is like a punch to the gut.
“What’s going on, Mom?”
“I just think it’s best if we give the whole Jackson family a bit of space right now.”
My stomach falls through the floor. The whole Jackson family? For the last three years, we’ve always spent Thanksgiving and Christmas with the Jackson family, and while I wasn’t exactly expecting that (I’m not delusional), I didn’t think their feelings toward me would be so bad they’d want me out of the state.
“Have you spoken to Ryan?” I ask.
“No, honey. I haven’t spoken to him.”
“Has dad?” My dad’s relationship with Ryan is great, and they have so much in common with football, and it’s not unusual for them to speak on the phone every now and again.
“No.” Her voice sounds sad.
“Then what? What happened?”
“Look, your father and Bill had a silly little argument the other day, and I think it’s best if we all just give each other a bit of space.”
My blood turns cold.
“Was it about me?”
She doesn’t answer.
“Mom! Was it about me?”
“Yes, honey. It’s nothing to worry about, and it’ll blow over, but I don’t want you to come back and have to deal with it.”
His parents hate me. I should have been expecting this. They blame me—I mean, why wouldn’t they? As far as they’re concerned, this is all my fault, but I think of Ryan’s parents as family, and it hurts. It hurts to think that my dad, someone who never argues with anyone, someone who is fun and outgoing and popular, felt the need to defend me, and somehow, that’s ended up with them coming to me for Thanksgiving and us going away for Christmas.
“What happened, Mom?”
She sighs. “I think Ryan’s taken the breakup badly. He’s been drinking a lot, and he missed a practice, so his coach is mad at him. Then there’s the assault charges. I know they’ve been dropped now, but Bill had a few things to say about it, and your father wouldn’t stand for it.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. The Jacksons are my parents’ best friends, have been for years, and I hate the thought that I’ve affected their relationship. I’m not worth it; I’m really not worth it.
“Do not apologize, Becca.” My mom’s voice is firm. It’s her lawyer voice, her no-arguing voice. “You are twenty years old, and people make mistakes.”
“But I’ve ruined your friendship with them.”
“I pick you, Becca. I pick you over everyone, every single time. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about. I love you, honey, we both do. We are going to have a wonderful Thanksgiving together and a fabulous Christmas in the sun. I’ve already booked us a boat trip for Christmas Eve. We’ll have a great time.”
“Okay,” I say in defeat. I’d been counting on going home and seeing Ryan, on making him listen to me, but maybe my mom’s right. Maybe he needs some space. It’s only been a couple weeks; maybe if I give him some time, he’ll calm down and then will be ready to talk to me. I’m not going to tell him the truth; I’ll never tell him about that, because as far as I’m concerned, that never happened. I want it to never have happened, and I’m going to do everything I can to forget it happened. Maybe when he’s had some time, maybe when he’s gotten it out of his system in a month or two, maybe he’ll be willing to talk to me then. Maybe he’ll be ready to give us another chance.
“I’ve booked your flight, honey. I’ve managed to find a direct one for you, straight to Hawaii. Your father and I get in a couple of hours before, and we’ll meet you at the airport. What do you think?”
I listen to my mom ramble on the way she does when she’s anxious, and I know things must be bad at home. The Jacksons must have made their feelings toward me perfectly clear, and I know now, more than ever, that things are never going to be the same again.