Carter: Aftermath

Ryan is quiet on the other end of the phone, breathing heavily.  I sit in shock.  I look to see wet spots on my jeans and lift a hand to feel that my cheeks are wet.  I’d had no idea I was crying.

Ryan takes a breath on the other end, getting ready to speak.  I quickly wipe my cheeks, attempting to get myself back together.  If she can talk about this, I sure as hell can listen.

“The next morning, Chris found us in his bed.  I was battered, my face a mass of bruises.  I had bite marks...everywhere.  There was blood on me.  And the bed,” Ryan says quietly.  

For as much as I want to hold Ryan, to comfort her, I want to beat the living shit out of Tommy.  If I ever find that guy, I will kill him.  Who would do this?  No wonder Ryan has trouble opening up.  I don’t blame her.

“What happened to Tommy?” I manage to get out.

“I woke to Chris pulling Tommy to the floor.  I honestly thought he was going to kill him.  Chris’s parents ran into the room.  Apparently they had been chaperoning the party that night, so they had no idea what had happened.  Chris’s dad pulled him off of Tommy and his mom came to take care of me.  They called the cops and an ambulance,”

“So did you stay out of school last fall to deal with all of this?” I’m starting to understand a small portion of what she must be going through.

“Yeah,” Ryan says, softly.  “That’s, um...that’s where I really was today.  At my counseling session.  My counselor, Lisa...she's great.  She does therapy with me and my family.  She’s trying to help me cope and readjust to daily life.  To feel like a normal teenage girl.  Or...as much of one as I can be”

         Wow. “So where is Tommy now?”

         “Awaiting sentencing.  The trial happened while I was out sophomore year and he just exhausted all of his appeals.  Sentencing is set for five weeks from now.  Since he was 16 and I was 14 when it happened, he’s considered a pedophile.  Apparently, prisons aren’t good places for rapists and pedophiles.  He’s having a rough time.”  She said the last with a smile in her voice.  My face echoed it, a bit savagely.

          There's a long pause and I'm sure what to say. I want to comfort her, but anything that I can think to say sounds stupid and irreverent. 

          Finally, I ask, “Can I drive you to school tomorrow?”

          “Why?” Ryan asks, nervously.

          “I really want to hug you, if you’ll let me. Plus, I just want to spend some more time with you.”  

          “Oh,” Ryan says, her tone warming. “Sure, I’d like that.”

          “I’ll pick you up at 7:30?”

          “Sounds good.”   

           We talk for a few more minutes and then hang up.  I lay on my back on my bed, holding the phone to my chest.

            I can’t imagine what she has gone through. She has to be so strong. My heart aches for her, for her pain.  But somehow, I like her even more.

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Ryan

7:20.  Fuck!  I’d overslept this morning after a restless night obsessing over my conversation with Carter from last night. Especially the way that he’d  said that he wanted to hug me after I’d told him about Tommy.

          Now I have 10 minutes to get ready.  My hair is still wet, I am still in my pjs, and I'm about half way done with my makeup.  God, I hope that he’s running late this morning.

         Luckily, Mom and Dad had to be to work early and they dropped my brother off at school.  Mom had told me that I could sleep in.

         What she’d neglected to do was make sure that my ass was out of bed.

          I finish my makeup just as I hear the doorbell ring.  Looking at the bathroom clock, it’s 7:25.  Shit! I’m still in my pjs and have wet hair trailing down my back.  I quickly gather my hair into a ponytail and run to the door.

         Opening the door, I see Carter standing there, smiling at me.  Wearing tan cargo pants and a Calvin Klein T, he gazes at me for a second.  Then, he extends a coffee cup and a bag in my direction.  Quirking his eyebrow at me, he says, “Is it pajama day at school or something?”

          “No,” I huff, ushering him inside and taking the coffee and bag from him. I give a little mew of pleasure as the smell of coffee tickles my nose.  “I’m sorry, I overslept!  Give me five minutes.”

          “Take your time.  You’ve got at least 20 minutes before we have to leave.”  He takes the bag back from me, leaving me the coffee, and heads to the kitchen.  He opens the bag and pulls out two huge blueberry muffins. He puts one aside and sits down to start eating the other.  “I’ll be good here.”

          “Ok.  I’ve just gotta get dressed and do something with my hair,” I turn towards the stairs.

          “Leave it down,” he cals.

          “What?” I ask, facing him again.

          “Leave it down,” he repeats.  He’s looking at me with a slight smirk on his face.  “I like your hair down.  I can smell your shampoo when I sit next to you.”

          “Oh,” is all I can think to say as my cheeks heat.  “Ok.”  With that intelligent response, I rush upstairs.