“You have to do more than just attend class and pretend to be interested. I know you’re unhappy but you can’t let it destroy your future. You need to find something to motivate you. There’s a lecture…”
I zoned out on the cryptic word lecture as she continued to speak in animated fashion. Jess should be leaving class in fifteen minutes. I knew his schedule since we planned a few spaced out slots in the day for coffee. I should be with him right now; instead I was getting another self-motivation talk from Sadie.
The burning pain of disappointment stung my chest. I missed him. I missed talking to him. I missed seeing him. I missed his irritating, stupid grin. I wanted to call Jess so damn bad, it was killing me. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, but I just didn’t know how to say it in a way that would make him understand.
“Can I see your computer?”
“Why?” Her hazel eyes squinted at me.
“Because I’m gonna withdraw from all my classes by sending a giant FU message to my professors.”
“Alex!”
“Fine. I need to check my email.” I groaned. “I don’t want to get up for my laptop.”
Sadie rotated the computer on the coffee table in my direction. Signing into my account, I read several subject lines from Darcy and a few others from Rochellas. Each of the titles seemed to grow more urgent. Most of them referenced some website. Clicking the link, a page came into view, filling the whole screen with various female names in boxy letters. I selected the one labeled Lexie and a video sprang to life.
I gasped and then I choked.
Sadie pulled the computer around as I stumbled to the kitchen, trying to keep my stomach contained. Bits of roast beef sandwich exploded down the side of the cabinet before I could reach the sink. It stunk. It stunk like the rotten person that lived inside of me.
I clicked play again; the fifteenth time in three hours. I studied the girl in the video. She looked like a stranger with wild, red hair in someone else’s dress. She had a vague, lost stare in her eyes, absent of life. The video ended, and I clicked play again for number sixteen.
I thought only celebrity bitches, trying to get famous, ended up with a sex tape on the internet. Yet there I sat, like a stoned bobble-head, letting Dutch’s nasty hands and lips maul my skin. He’d recorded it with his phone while I thought it just played music that night. Damn cell phones! Maybe Uncle Frank was right to hate them.
I clicked play again for number seventeen. The video feed sprang to life and I braced for the sound of sex noises. I had an overwhelming need to watch it over and over again as some form of sick, sadistic punishment; every loop through the video was like a lash to the skin.
At least I wasn’t the only pathetic moron who made the cut. On the other hand, it made my experience feel even less significant to him. The page contained twelve different videos of seven different girls. I only had one. However, the purpose was to vote for best and worst of his spectacular summer at Rochellas.
I watched the two that featured Darcy. One video was filmed on the docks and the other in New Orleans wearing those hot pink panties. I recognized a couple of the other girls in Hatchet House clips; Katelyn, who taught boating, and Sara from the mess hall staff. The slut. No wonder Dutch received double servings of tater tots.
I jumped as my bedroom door flew open, crashing into the wall. Jess stood in the doorway. He was angry. He knew. I turned the laptop away from his intimidating stare.
“What are you doing here?”
“Let me see it.”
“No.”
“Stop it, Alex. You’re gonna show it to me.” The tone of his words scared the literal breath from my lungs. When I didn’t respond, he stormed over to the desk. He reached around my shoulder to activate to worst seven minutes of my life.
He saw me naked. He saw the things that Dutch was doing to me. I covered my face with my hands and pretended it wasn’t happening. I felt his anger as he stood behind my chair. It radiated out from his body with every breath. He brushed my shoulder as he reached in front of me and clicked play again.
My stomach lurched, hearing those sounds from the video. I got dizzy and my legs broke out in clammy goose bumps. I was going to throw up again.
“I’ll take care of it.” I heard the icy tone behind my head. He walked out of the room before I could respond. My legs felt weak as I tried to catch up in the living room.
“No,” I whispered. His back stilled in the apartment doorway and then turned around to face me.
“What options do you have?” Jess’s jaw clenched. “Why couldn't you’ve just listened to me? Did it really matter why I was tellin’ you to stay away from him?”
“Jess, please, I…”
“Stop! I don’t wanna hear your excuses. I’ll just take care of it. I told you I’d always have your back. I meant it, even when you do somethin’ as stupid as this.”
“I’m…sorry.” My voice shook. “Please…I…I'm sorry.” I staggered as I tried to covey something with substance and not just words that trivialized his feelings. We needed to talk. He needed to hear me. I felt panicked as the situation slipped out of control. “Please don't…please don’t leave yet.”
“Damn it, Alex! I gotta leave. I can't stand to look at you right now. All I see is that dress and that asshole with his hands all over you while you just sit there like some…some…shit!” His hand absently clamped his forehead, pushing the hair back tight on his scalp. “I don't know if I can ever look at you the same again!”
He hated me. He didn’t have to say it. I saw it in his eyes. I had to make him listen. He couldn’t leave like this again. “Just wait. Let me.”
“Explain? There's nothin’ you can say that will make me understand. You knew how I felt and just threw it back in my face. You don’t care ‘bout us. So just let me go. I'll fix your mess and then I don’t want to see you.”
His eyes watched me, cold and lifeless. I finally knew the frostbite that came from a Jess Mason freeze out. It wasn’t a superficial whisk to the skin, but a pain so deep, the flesh turned black from the inside out. The joints in my knees caved, and I slumped to the floor.
I felt something on my cheeks. The tears poured down my face followed by the first sob. I was crying. Loosing Jess finally broke me. On my hands and knees, clutching the carpet, I stared back at him.
Jess didn’t move. He stayed in the doorway watching me fall apart. I sucked in a jagged breath that transcended into an ugly cry. He looked at me one last time and then slammed the door shut.
“I'm sss…sorry Jess. I…I’m ssoo sorry.” Snot dripped down my lips as I waited, knowing he wouldn’t come back. Sadie put her arms around my shoulders.
“Alex, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t know what else to do. Someone has to make Dutch take down that horrible video.”
“He ha…hates me.”
“You have a bond with Jess that is different than most people. It’s strong. I know it hurts but you have to give him some time, sweetie. He's just in shock right now.”
“I g…g…gave him t…time.” I could barely talk, causing the words to be half syllable gibberish. “It m…made it w…worse. All…my fault.”
“Don't talk. Just let it out, ok. You need this. You need to feel your emotions for a change. Grieve, Alex. You have to at some point. Stop bottling it up until you explode. All you’ll get is a catastrophic mess and more problems.”
Sadie pulled me up from the floor and I stumbled over to the couch. She covered my shaking body with a blanket. I used the stupid, red, flowered quilt, a gift from Mrs. Mason, to wipe the crud running from my nose. Somewhere during the evening, the darkness brought mercy, and I drifted off to sleep.
I stayed in bed the next day. Around two o'clock, I got a text. My feet kicked the covers up and I scrambled to my desk. The screen displayed a simple, terse statement lacking anything familiar.