Good Girl Bad (10)
Like Trent, who she thought was so sophisticated, at first. He even looked a bit like Leroy, with his black hair and his laughing eyes. But he’d gotten pretty intense, pretty quickly. He wanted to spend every second with her. Every break, every lunch. He started to get jealous when she chatted with other boys. He’d started manipulating her. She could see it a mile off, but why was it so hard to untangle herself from it? It felt like riding a wave, and she’d caught it, and she just had to go with it, wherever it carried her. It was the path of least resistance. It was so hard to jump off.
It was so familiar.
Just go with it.
Leroy had whispered that to her, once, and she shivers.
Even now, well, she’d broken things off with Trent. She’d enjoyed the sex, to be honest. She felt guilty, dirty even. What was that about? Somehow, society’s messages about being pure and virginal had crept into her psyche, and she did feel sullied, and it was ridiculous.
Anyway, she didn’t do any of the things Trent started pushing her to do. They’d only had normal sex three times, for God’s sake, and he was already pushing for anal, his fingers creeping around to her arse, pulling her cheeks apart, trying to stick a finger in there when she’d already said “no” and she’d been furious, yanked her clothes on and stormed out, shaking.
She knew boys were like this, she had heard girls talking, but it seemed so…degrading. And yet she knew, if she’d really liked him, if she hadn’t already been feeling suffocated by him, she probably would have let him, and it would have been all about him, and it would have hurt, and she’d have taken it anyway because that’s what you had to do with your boyfriend these days. Half of her friends had done it. Just thinking about it makes her curl over into herself, a physical urge to protect her being, to twist her body up, away from men and their prying eyes, their prying little fingers.
It wasn’t like that with him, though. And here, finally, Tabitha allows herself a little smile.
Oh, she knew she shouldn’t. She knew it was wrong. But it was so nice to be cherished. It was so nice to have someone listen to her, really listen. Someone who could take care of her. Someone who she could rely on, who she could talk to like an adult, who cared about more important things than the things teenage boys cared about.
She had to be careful, though, of course.
She couldn’t even tell Freddy.
Secrets only stay secret if nobody knows.
He had bought her a private SIM, and she’d dug out one of her mother’s discarded phones, and even though she could never talk about him, never share her dizzying joy with anyone, she could, in private, pull her phone out of its hiding place and read his messages, and grin stupidly to herself.
8
Monday
When Freddy finally calls, Nate and Rebecca are sitting together in a state of camaraderie they haven’t experienced in years.
Rebecca still couldn’t honestly say she knew the reason why Nate had left her. He’d claimed it was all the fighting, but everyone fought, didn’t they? It was ridiculous to think you could live for years and years with a person and it be all nice and loving all the time.
It had, of course, driven her on to greater success: a bigger salary, and a new, better-looking husband. She’d kept their house, and done all the renovations that Nate had stalled on for years, and she feels smug whenever he comes over and can see everything he walked away from.
Well, he still has a key. So it’s not as though he walked away completely. For a while they even tried to have Sunday dinners together, for the girls’ sake. But Rebecca had been simmering with so much hostility and rage, of course it didn’t last. It was Gen, in fact, who had said quietly to her one night, “Can we not do family dinners, Mom? Everyone always seems so mad.”
Now, Rebecca pounces on her phone.
“Freddy. Darling. What can you tell me? Where might Tabby be?”
Nate can’t hear what Freddy has to say, and watches Rebecca closely. Her shoulders are stiff, her eyes laser-focused on something out the front window. She has a pen poised over her pad to take any notes. But as they talk, she slumps.
“Nothing,” she says, turning to Nate after she hangs up. “Just what Gen said. She was seeing Trent. He was jealous, possessive. Tabby dumped him and he had trouble accepting it. But there was no one else, as far as Freddy knows. And she didn’t know that Tabby had quit Miss Ambrosia, either.”
“What about how she was in general? Was she happy? Was anything on her mind? There was that bad patch at school, remember? I wonder if something happened, something that was bothering her…” Nate’s voice trails off. He glances carefully at Rebecca. There are certainly some things that he can think of that might bother Tabby.
Rebecca shakes her head. “She said she can’t think of anything else that’s changed.” She shrugs. “I’ll call that officer again. Tell them about Trent. Tell them they’re still not back and it’s not okay. And I guess I better go down to file a report.” Here, Rebecca looks at Nate uncertainly, and his heart still jumps a little.
“Of course, I’ll come with you. We’d better take Gen, too.”
After they file the report, the three of them troop back into Rebecca’s house, somber.
“Do you want me to stay?” Nate asks, hesitantly. He’s not thrilled at the thought of leaving Gen here, but equally isn’t thrilled at the thought of spending a night back in this house.