“Of course.”
“But don’t you want to do something fun tonight? Go to a party or something?” Beth asked.
“Nope. I want to hang out with you.”
“I’m not very much fun right now,” she admitted.
“That’s okay,” I replied.
We lay in silence for a time. I started counting the dots on her ceiling.
“How do I get better, Brooke?”
I wanted to tell her to talk to her parents, to talk to a doctor. I wanted to tell her to press charges. I wanted to tell her to be brave. But I didn’t.
“It’ll just take time.”
“How much time?”
“I don’t know, Beth.”
There was another moment of silence. I stared at Beth’s ceiling wondering how to make my friend come back to me, wondering where to find the strength to stop sleeping with Finn.
“Look what I’m wearing,” Beth said, pulling the tarnished half heart out of the front of her shirt.
I rolled over to face her.
“I thought it went with my outfit today,” she said.
I giggled.
“We should start wearing them again, don’t you think?” Beth asked.
I nodded. “We definitely should.”
Beth grinned. “Do you think we’ll be best friends forever?”
I grinned, remembering Beth’s answer to this question when we were eight years old. “Sure. Why not?”
She laughed, remembering it, too. “Exactly. Why not?”
“You’re going to kill me, Beth,” I breathed into the blackness of my bedroom.
I paced the length of the room wearing fresh pajamas because I soaked my other ones with sweat. I was so sick and tired of waking up every other night drenched with sweat. My face felt tight from the dried tracks left by tears. I rubbed my cheeks roughly trying to erase the tightness, but all I managed to do was make my face hurt more.
“I’m doing the best that I can,” I said.
Do better.
I whirled around and stared into the opposite corner of my room.
“Who’s there?” I whispered, feeling the jolt in my chest, the aching in my fingers.
Nothing.
“Beth?”
He raped me.
I wanted to run for the bedroom door, but I was certain she’d block my escape. Should I call for my dad? I was scared out of my mind.
He raped me, Brooke. What are you doing about it?
“I . . . I’m working on it. I know about this league, Beth. I know about some others.”
I don’t care about the others. Why haven’t you gotten Cal?
“Are you hearing yourself?” I cried. “Do you hear what you’re asking me to do?!”
It was your plan, Brooke. I didn’t come up with it. But now that I’ve had time to think about it, I rather like it.
I stood dumbfounded, staring at the ghost.
I mean, don’t you deserve it? You slept with my boyfriend. You lied to me. You’re a despicable human being. Don’t you deserve to be treated like shit?!
“No! I don’t deserve it! I don’t!” I yelled into the corner of the room.
Yes you do. Yes you do. Yes you do. Yes you do . . .
“Shut up!”
Yes you do. Yes you do. Yes you do . . .
“DADDY!” I screamed. “DADDY!”
I heard my bedroom door ripped open and felt my father’s arms go around me. I opened my eyes, dazed and confused.
“It was just a dream,” Dad said. “You’re okay, honey.” And he rocked me side to side while I cried into his chest.
“I’m scared!” I wailed.
“Don’t be scared. I’m right here,” Dad reassured me. He continued to rock me, stroking my hair and shushing me as my sobs became fewer and more infrequent.
“Please don’t leave me,” I begged, clutching him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Brooke,” Dad replied.
I eased my desperate hold on him, and he looked down at my face.
“Did you dream about Beth again?” he asked.
I nodded reluctantly.
Dad didn’t say anything. He just held me until I asked to leave the room and sleep somewhere else in the house. He walked me out, and I could feel an angry, unsatisfied Beth hovering in the corner of my bedroom.
***
Dad eyed me cautiously over breakfast the next morning. I was pale; I could feel it. I think my dream within a dream drained half the life out of me. I was so terrified. I tried to steady my hand as I brought the cereal spoon to my mouth, but it was no use. I shook violently, and Dad, unable to bear the sight of me struggling to eat, plucked the utensil from my feeble grasp.
“Dad, I’m not a baby,” I said. But I felt like one in that moment, and I wanted to cry all over again.
“Who said anything about anyone being a baby?” he asked.