A/N: So, you guys know when (a)I have internet regularly and (b) when I have stuff written, I tend to update once a week. Chapter 12 is about half way done, so I feel comfortable posting this.
That said… I love all of you. You're amazing, and I can't tell you how many people I've come across on different forums that tell me they love the story. It's a little daunting when people know that you are the one writing the story. So… With the dozens of you who have favourited or alerted this story, (and I really hate doing this…), I don't feel like it's asking too much to get a review. I like knowing what you think about what I'm writing. It's nice to know what you think. After all, after going through months of writers block, I forced myself to revive this baby, because of PMs and reviews asking for updates. I still have a lot of love for it, and its very much still my baby, so I'd love for you to meet me in the middle.
Anyway… Onwards!
Chapter 11
I Don't Know How I Feel
Amy shoved her books off her bed, huffing at the annoyance of having to do thirty pages of reading before Monday morning. Her mother had gone to the district building after Lauren's funeral to pick up books for Amy, Ashley and Ricky. Along with the books had come a stack of reading for every student to complete in the classes on their first day back.
Ricky rolled back from her desk and looked over at her.
"If you're so frustrated, why not do the reading tomorrow morning?"
Amy shook her head, picking up her computer off the nightstand. "I just think it's ridiculous that we have to do any school work to begin with. I don't even remember what we were studying that day!"
Ricky chuckled, flipping a page over in his own textbook. "That's because you hit your head and then were thrown out of school literally. I'm sure we won't see much homework for a few days, if any at all. And I'm sorry I can't do more to help right now, but…" he shrugged, waving his hand at the metal bar that was the armrest of the wheelchair.
Amy nodded, looking up from her computer screen. "I know."
Ricky turned back to the textbook and read a bit longer, before he closed it and pushed it aside.
"I want to talk to you about something."
Amy looked up from her laptop again. "Okay. What?"
Ricky dropped their eye contact. "I want to go home tonight."
Amy furrowed her brow at him, shaking her head. "What? Why?"
Ricky wheeled himself over to the bed and used his good arm and leg to push himself up onto it.
"It's not you. I just…I'm suffocating around all these people, and I need to get more clothes. If I'm going to be stuck here for two more weeks, I need to have something other than shorts and t-shirts. Plus I have stitches coming out in the morning, and then Dr. Fields. I just want to get a few hours to myself and get some things packed up so that I can come back here tomorrow when we're done with school."
Amy frowned. "But how will you even get up the stairs?"
Ricky laughed, knowing that the comment had everything to do with her not wanting him to leave. "I had a broken left leg, sprained right ankle, and bruises over 80 percent of my body when I was eight. I've managed worse."
Amy's face fell completely, and tears filled her eyes. Ricky shook his head, dropping his smile as well.
"Oh, oh no, Amy. I didn't mean it like that," he insisted.
She shook her head, covering her eyes with her hand. "I'm an idiot. I just…You being alone right now scares me."
Ricky settled on the bed and reached up to wipe the tears off her face. "Bob is in jail. Three of the four guys with guns are dead, and that Joe kid is in jail too. Nothing is going to happen to me in twelve hours."
Amy pursed her lips at him. "Can you actually drive with a broken leg?"
Ricky nodded. "It'll all be fine. I'll see you at noon tomorrow. Are you going back to work?"
Amy shrugged. "My parents want me to take a few more days before I go back. The church told me to come back when I'm ready."
"Okay then. I'm out of work at least until I can stand, and then Bunny said maybe I can do some sort of restricted work. Leo said that I don't have to worry about the apartment."
"How are you going to manage your bills?" Amy's jaw dropped with surprise.
Ricky's jaw twitched, and he shrugged. "He wants me to let him cover the bills for the next month or so. I still haven't decided how I feel about that."
Amy shook her head at him. "You should just let him help you out for the time being. You can't even walk right now."
Ricky nodded slowly. "Yeah, and I'm stuck in therapy for two hours, five days a week. God only knows how long that's going to last."
Amy lifted her computer up and placed it on the nightstand, though she left it open. She scooted forward towards Ricky, placing her legs on either side of him. He looked up at her with resistance in his eyes. Her expression changed. She'd never seen him like this before.
"You… I've never…Ricky?" She brushed her hand across his cheek, furrowing her brow in confusion at the glazed look in his eyes.
He shook his head a moment later and looked back up at her. "Sorry, what's up?"
Amy ran her thumb over his bottom lip. "What's up is maybe you do need to talk to someone. You've never been like this before. I've never seen you like this. So…I don't know, afraid?"
Ricky shook his head, giving her a look that seemed to come from disgust. "I am not afraid."
Amy shook her head at him again. "You don't have to lie to me. Maybe being afraid is better. It says something about how all of this has affected you."
Ricky forced a laugh out. "And how's that?"
Amy rolled her shoulder. "That you're actually dealing with it? That someone hurt you and you feel it?"
"Because I didn't feel it before," he asked, annoyed.
Amy shook her head at him. "No, that's not what I meant. I just… I'm sorry."
Ricky huffed and shook his head, pulling her hand down off his face. "Don't be. I'm the idiot-"
"You're not an idiot," Amy growled, dismissing his comment. She leaned forward and kissed him quickly. "So are you going to go?"
Ricky nodded, setting his jaw. "I promise I'll see you in the morning. We can meet up at 11 if you want and have a late brunch before class. At least we'll have a study hall together."
Amy nodded, and smiled a little. "Okay. I'm still going to take John to the nursery as soon as I'm up and ready to go. Maybe then I can actually get my reading for school done."
Ricky nodded as well. "Alright." He pushed up on the bed a little and kissed her once more. "I'll see you later."
-
Everything rides on hope now
Everything rides on faith somehow
-
Ricky pushed himself up off his wheelchair and sighed heavily as he dropped onto the leather couch of Dr. Fields office. He brushed his hand down his jeans, over the cast, and then ran it through his hair. Dr. Fields folded down the wheelchair and placed it next to the end of the couch before he walked over to his chair and sat down. He picked up Ricky's folder off the table next to it and opened it up. He flipped it over and then settled it on the chair and walked over to his desk, filling a clear plastic cup with water. He walked back over to the couch and placed it onto the end table nearest to Ricky before he walked back over to his chair again and sat down.
"You sleep okay last night," he asked.
Ricky shrugged, fussing with his sling. "Laid awake for a while. I kept having flashbacks. I haven't had those since…"
He trailed off and shook his head, looking down at the floor.
"Since when, " Dr. Fields asked. He picked up his coffee cup and took a long drink from it, though he never took his attention off of Ricky.
Ricky shook his head and looked around the room, as he often did when he didn't want to discuss something. He chewed on his tongue, and continued to pick at the Velcro on his sling.
"Alright," Dr. Fields surrendered, giving the notion that he was conceding in receiving an answer for the moment. "How're you feeling about going back to school today?"
Ricky took a deep breath and kept his vision averted to other things. His eyes flitted around the room at pictures of quotes, and the various bookcases. "I don't know. Mixed I guess."
Dr. Fields nodded. "And what kind of mixed feelings might those be?"
Ricky looked up at him and shrugged again. "Nervous. Frustrated. Annoyed."
Dr. Fields nodded as well. "Nervous about what?"
Ricky looked down at his hands, picking at the nonexistent dirt under his nails. "Bob somehow escaping from jail. Someone else having the bright idea of bringing a gun to school. Annoyed that we had homework to do last night when we haven't been in school for two weeks. Amy had a little to d with the last one, I guess."
"How so?"
Ricky shrugged. He picked up his glass of water and sipped from it. "She was talking about how she doesn't remember what she was studying before the shooting, and to be honest, neither do I. I don't remember a lot about that day and the days leading up to it. And I really don't understand either why we had to do all this reading for these classes. It's not like I remember what we were studying."
"That reason alone was probably why," Dr. Fields suggested. He shifted forward in his char. "You don't need to immerse yourself into throwing yourself into your school work right now anyway. You've got shortened days, and you're recovering from some major wounds."
"No," Ricky growled lowly. "Instead I'm stuck here Monday through Friday talking about my so-called father."
"Would you rather discuss something else," Dr. Fields asked him seriously.
Ricky rolled his eyes at the older man. "Like what?"
Dr. Fields shrugged. "I don't know. That's really up to you."
Ricky forced a laugh. "My parents insurance isn't paying you to talk to me about the weather."
Dr. Fields stared at Ricky for a long moment. "You're showing up here, Ricky, and that says something. It says you're acknowledging that something is wrong. I fully understand that you were just once again thrown under the bus, and for all the hell you've been through in the last few weeks, I don't blame you for rebelling against everything. If you don't want to talk about Bob, we don't have to."
Ricky huffed and shook his head, looking down at the floor. "My mother showed up at the hospital too. I'm not quite sure things can get much worse at this point."
Dr. Fields nodded. "I know."
The room was silent for a few minutes, and Ricky resumed picking at his cuticles while he tried to calm himself down. He took another deep breath before he looked up again.
"It's been a year. Since I had a flashback, I mean. Since…that night," he muttered. His vision still danced across the room, never staying on anything too long, and never ever looking at Lauren's dad.
Dr. Fields marked a note in the chart; something Ricky was absolutely sure his parents would know about eventually. "What brought it on," he asked as he scrawled.
Ricky shrugged, looking down at his hands. "Nothing. I-I don't know. Amy moved on her bed and I guess I read her body language wrong, cause the next thing I knew, I was remembering being five, and watching Bob throw Nora out of the apartment so that…y'know."
"Holding back from saying what actually happened out loud is where your fear thrives," Dr. Fields told him politely. "So that what?"
Ricky glared up at him. "So that my father could beat me and then rape me. There. Is that what you wanted to hear!"
Dr. Fields shook his head. "Your anger's justified, Ricky. You're right to feel it, but not against people who don't deserve it. Right now, you're in a safe place to express that anger."
"I'm not mad at anyone," Ricky whined. "I just hate him. And…"
Dr. Fields scooted forward on his chair and settled Ricky's file on the table next to him. "And what?"
Ricky took another drink from his water and rubbed his eyes. "And, back before all of this happened… Amy and I were talking. We were talking about a lot of stuff with our relationship."
"Do you feel up to sharing what those things were," Dr. Fields asked.
Ricky looked up at him. "It was a lot of stuff. We talked about getting married, about whether or not we wanted more kids… We were talking about waiting until John's birthday and then moving in together. I'd hoped Bob would be back in jail by then. And… we were talking about having sex."
"You're going to have to elaborate; I'm not sure where you're going with this," he said.
Ricky shrugged. "I don't know. I guess… I didn't want sex the second time around with Amy to be like the first. Y'know, all about getting what I need to sustain myself, and then disappearing. I wanted it to be different."
Dr. Fields nodded. He smiled a little. "Do you remember the day you came to therapy with Ms. Lee? How she said she wished you would stay longer, but you always wanted to leave right after sex?"
Ricky nodded. "Yeah. What about it?"
"And I told her I knew why you didn't want to stay? Do you remember when you first told me why you leave?"
Ricky looked down at the floor for a moment, trying to recall the conversation at hand, and trace his memory's footsteps from there. He nodded a few minutes later and looked back up at Dr Fields.
"Yeah. I was 13, and I said it was because it reminded me of what Bob did to me, and how all I wanted to do once it was over, was get as far away as I could…but I couldn't."
Dr. Fields nodded. "But you never said why. Never, in the last three years."
Ricky shrugged, keeping their eye contact. "I figured it wasn't that hard to figure out. He wouldn't let me leave, and he wouldn't leave my room. It was worse when he locked Nora out without her keys, and brought friends over."
Dr. Fields nodded again. "And you feel that lying next to someone after sexually gratifying yourself is a trapping you?"
"I don't know, I- I guess? I just… all I can think about once its over, is getting as far away from them as possible. It makes my skin crawl at the idea of actually curling up with someone and…I don't know."
Ricky had resumed keeping his attention all over the room, instead of on Dr. Fields or in any other single spot.
"You know," Dr Fields interjected. "There are two sides to how a person can react when they're sexually abused. Some people fight back. Others shut down. The same is true for people after they've been through that. Some fight, while others just plain shut down. It seems to me, in your own way, these last few years you've been fighting. Maybe not physically, but internally. And now, the internalization of everything you've been through is instead causing you to shut down."
"Great," Ricky muttered. "So I'm going to be a sexual dunce for the rest of my life."
Dr. Fields forced a laugh and shook his head. "That's highly unlikely. You know as well as I, that just because a person has been abused doesn't mean that their sex drive shuts down. The difference is, now you need to decide if it really is the right situation. More than that, you need to be with someone who is aware of why you may or may not react to the present situation, and can keep you in that moment, instead of slipping into something else. Make sense?"
Ricky shrugged. "I guess."
-
Gonna leave a mark, I'm gonna set a spark
I'm coming up off the ground, I won't be looking down
-
Amy looked around the halls of the unfamiliar high school with confusion. Along with new textbooks, everyone had received new day planners (which were cheap store-bought ones, rather than school bought), and maps to the school. They were all also sharing lockers with the Van Nuys students, which was creating a very tight space for everyone. They were lucky to not be sharing the lockers at the same time of day, but that didn't do anything to abate Amy's annoyance.
She stuffed her books that she wouldn't need until the next day into the locker and then closed it. Her locker-mate had conveniently put up two plastic index-card holders with each of their names on them. The one closer to the top held Amy's name, alerting her that her half of the locker was the top. She shared it with someone named Ryenne. With any luck, whoever Ricky was sharing a locker with would be willing to switch with one of them and so that they could share a locker instead. Amy wasn't too sure either of them would be comfortable with other people looking at their son every day while they went through their mid-morning activities.
Madison walked up to her and offered to take her books from her. Amy happily obliged, and followed her outside, where they sat down on a stone bench.
"I thought you and Ricky were going to meet for lunch for brunch before school," she asked.
Amy shrugged. "He called and said Mr. Fields was going to bring him over I guess they had a lot to talk about."
Madison nodded, looking around. Amy stared down at the grass, blowing lightly in the breeze.
"We'd be pressing Lauren for information if she were here," she said quietly. "She wouldn't know anything, of course, because Dr. Fields would never do that to Ricky, but we- well at least I would, anyway."
Madison nodded slowly. "And then later I'd keep pressing her for information anyway, just because I'd be curious, even though we both knew she knew as much as we did…or at least until Ricky told you."
Amy shook her head, looking up at Madison. She was dressed simply in a black summer top with a see-through shawl over it, and dark blue skinny jeans, with black ballet flats. Her hair was pulled back simply into a ponytail. It made Amy feel a little under dressed.
She'd gone with her basic favourite: a dress with black leggings. Today, she'd settled on a navy blue teacup dress, with thick two-inch thick shoulder straps, and a charcoal cardigan. It had been something easy to slip into, and felt comfortable.
"You think it'll ever stop feeling like this," Madison murmured. She looked tentatively up at Amy.
"Ye-yeah," Amy replied just as tentatively. And then she said it more firmly. "Yeah. Eventually."
Madison looked back around at the grounds. Plenty of kids were arriving and chatting, as if nothing had changed. Others were acting completely opposite, like there was no way to go back to old cliques again. A lot of girls were split between hanging with their old groups, and making new friends.
Grace approached them, quickly flanked by Ben and Adrian, as well as Jack. She carried a tray of coffee cups. She extended the tray as they reached Madison and Amy.
"I know it's not really morning for that much longer, but I figured maybe we could all use a first-day-back perk-up," she said cheerfully.
Amy stared at her for a long moment, almost appalled. She and Madison had been discussing something serious, and she had walked up like nothing had ever changed. Her eyes began to narrow, ready to go off on Grace but-
She watched as Grace blinked, and for half a second, she could see it - the depression that was festering underneath. The shadows covered with makeup, that told of sleepless nights, waking up from nightmares making her relive that day. Track marks in her make up where she'd already cried that morning, probably out of fear about going back to school at all.
She reached out and grasped a cup from the tray, and thanked Grace silently. Madison did the same and thanked her as well. Once the tray was empty, Grace pulled the last two remaining out, and tossed the tray in the wastebasket.
"Where's Ricky," she asked curiously.
"He'll be around soon," Amy said, nodding. "I can take it for him and bring it to study hall for him. We have that first, since we can't really do orchestra anymore."
Grace nodded as well. She started to reach out to Amy, to hand her the coffee, but instead squatted slightly, and slipped it into the drink holder in Amy's bag, and made sure the steam cap was in place, so that the liquid didn't splash out.
"At least they're short days," Grace continued. "Better than going to school from sunup to sundown."
Adrian laughed. "Don't get used to it. I'm sure next fall, things will be back in full swing, and we'll be back to devoting almost nine hours a day to this thing they call learning."
"I don't know," Amy teased lightly. "I was thinking of dropping out and becoming a leper. At least no one would want to come near me then."
They all chuckled, save for Madison, who actually seemed rather annoyed that they were so cheerful.
"Is something wrong, Mad," Amy asked. She rested a hand on her best friend's shoulder.
"Yeah," Madison barked at her. "There is. I don't understand how you can all joke like someone didn't just kill our best friend! Like we didn't just bury her!"
Amy's face went ashen, and her stomach dropped to her feet. Tears filled her eyes and she shook her head. She looked momentarily over at everyone else and then back at Madison before she turned and walked away, back into the school.
"No one is okay," Ben said, stepping around Grace. "We're all thinking about the fact that so many people died that day. That someone with this group is actually dead. It sucks. It really does. But you can't dwell on that. And we're all suffering for it. I'm nagging my housekeepers and cooks because I don't want to be alone at all. Hell, I'm sleeping on my dad's bedroom floor."
Madison almost smiled. "Me too."
"I'm at the church from the time I wake up, until my dad comes home," Jack assured her. "Always with someone or helping out with something. And when we get home at night, I check all the doors and windows, and then make our eighty pound chocolate lab sleep in my bed with me."
"And I'm almost always over at Amy's," Adrian added. "Usually with Ashley or somewhere else, so I'm not alone. I sleep in my parent's room on their floor too, away from the windows and out of sight from the door."
Grace nodded, looking down at the ground. "And I'm barely sleeping at all. I went and saw a therapist, who put me on antidepressants and a sleep aid. Even so, I'm still only getting three or four hours of sleep. I'm starting to think maybe I should sleep in my mom's room too."
"Sorry," Madison murmured to them. "I didn't know."
"Looks can be deceiving," Grace told her. "Amy told me on the phone last night that she always keeps her window blinds closed, and she got blackout curtains to cover the outside of them at night, so they can't be seen through, because she and Ricky are afraid of Bob getting out of jail. They both aren't sleeping well, and having nightmares. Everyone is suffering."
Adrian, Ben, and Jack nodded in agreement.
Grace crossed her arms over the textbook she was holding against her chest. "It's why I've decided that we should all make an effort to do two things this year: make a friend with the person with whom we share lockers with. I think we should all also make a friend with someone we go to school with, but don't already know. Or maybe someone we've considered an enemy."
"You're nuts," Adrian muttered from behind her. Grace spun around to look at her.
"Am I really? Is this really that crazy of an idea? It's hate and bullying that breeds these situations, Adrian. We say that this has affected us all, but really how much as it? Is it enough for us to make a change? Is it enough for us to open up our hearts and our eyes and give someone who we said wasn't worth it, a second chance? Or a first chance? Isn't that enough?"
Adrian shrugged. "I guess you're right."
"I'm not saying become best friends with Zoe," Grace said, pressing on. "But, I don't know. Try talking to the girl. Neither of you is with Ricky these days anyway. Apologize. Make a good-faithed effort to show that you want to at least be civil to each other. If you really don't want to do that, then…I don't know, invite one of the foreign exchange students to coffee before school. Just show you care."
"Alright, alright," Adrian yelled slightly. "I get what you're saying. And I'll try."
"Me too," Ben said, nodding.
Jack nodded as well. "You can count me in, too."
"And me," Madison told her. "I'm sure Amy will do it too. "
"Great," Grace smiled cheerfully. "We all need friends, you guys. This is a great way to show people that we're not stuck up like I know they think we are. Give most of them half a chance, and we'll have new friends in no time."
"Alright, enough with the pep-talk," Adrian insisted as she stared down at her watch. "We're supposed to be starting our first classes in fifteen minutes, and I have no idea where mine is."
Grace looked over at her schedule and then back at her own. "We have science together still. I guess we'd better go find it."
Adrian slipped her arm through Grace's and they walked off towards the double doors. Ben and Jack exchanged an awkward look and then turned and walked behind them, heading to their own respective classes.
Madison walked into the school, and saw Amy standing by her locker. She walked over to her and placed a light hand on her shoulder. Amy looked up from the note in her hand, and folded it closed as she realized it was Madison.
"What's up?"
Madison shrugged. "Just came to apologize. I didn't mean to snap at you. I didn't know…"
"You should have," Amy told her honestly.
"I know," Madison agreed. "I just… I don't want you to be mad at me. You're all I've got left, now that…y'know."
Amy nodded. "And I just talked to Grace before you came in. She told me about the plan to make new friends, and I agree. We should reach out to people we decided we hated. Who knows, maybe the reason we hated each other in the first place won't matter anymore. And my locker mate already left me a note, so…" She shrugged. She smiled slightly at Madison and hugged her.
"We'll always be friends, Madison. And I'm always here for you. But maybe it'll help if we both find someone else to confide in. Someone who doesn't have to pick sides. Heck, we might even enjoy it."
Madison laughed softly. "Maybe. But you'll always be my first."
"And mine too," Amy agreed. "Anyway, I should get to class… I have no idea where it is, but I guess this map will show me. I'll see you later?"
Madison nodded. "See you later."
They both set off in different directions, and within a matter of a minute, as more students filed in and examined their own maps before setting off on confused paths. For a few minutes, every few seconds, a person would come running down one hall, into another. But within five minutes, all doors had been shut, everyone was settled into their seats, and even Ricky was settled at a table with Amy in study hall, down in the cafeteria.
