Breaking Free Page 5

  I could barely hear my own voice over the rain, which was pelting down outside harder than ever. I thought that maybe my words had gotten lost in the volume of the storm. Part of me hoped they had. It was hard for me to go back to that place in my mind, even if it was only a memory now.

  “How did you fix things?” Clare’s head rested against the window, and I could see the reflection of her lips moving on the glass.

  “I didn’t. The people around me helped me find myself again, I guess. It was hard at first, but now it’s the easiest thing in the world to wake up and be happy. I highly recommend it,” I teased.

  Clare smiled blankly against the glass. “You make it seem so simple.”

  I chuckled, pulling my legs up into a ball like she had. “It’s not simple at all. It sucked for a while. Took me forever to realize it’s not all about the people I was surrounded by. And with that realization came the one that it’s not all about me, either.”

  She nodded, exhaling heavily. “Anyways. Thanks for sitting with me. Can I drop you off somewhere?”

  I knew that this conversation was over. In a way, it was a relief because it meant there was no more threat today of letting someone see my secrets. But in the back of my mind, I also knew it meant I wouldn’t get to see hers today, either.

  “No, it’s okay, my car is right over there. And don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize for being you.”

  I let myself out quietly, walking into the downpour. I have to say, in that moment, the rain had never felt so good.

  CLARE WATCHED as Rain walked away, her hair clinging to her body, her clothes slick and dark with water. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but as Rain walked away, it was hard to deny that thing she’d been denying forever.

  “Good-bye, Rain.” Her whisper echoed around her in the small confines of her car. Maybe Brad wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe life could be better. Maybe she could be free.

  Five

  LATE THAT night, I got a rather frantic call from Cam. “Oh my God, you have to get over here right now!”

  “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I grabbed my car keys, not caring I was in sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt with my hair up in a messy bun.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine. You just have to come over this instant!” Cam wailed.

  I jammed my feet into the nearest pair of shoes, rushing out the door into the humid night. “Okay, I’ll be there in three minutes.” I jumped into my car, putting it in reverse. I think I broke every speed limit I encountered on my way over, but it was for a good cause. When I got to Cam’s house, I took the steps to her front door two at a time.

  Panting, I pounded on her door. “Cam! I’m here Cam!”

  She opened the door leisurely, resembling my dress for comfort. She smiled slyly. “Hey, babe. Come on in, the movie is just about to start,” she drawled.

  I frowned, confused. She didn’t appear to have any life-threatening injuries, and there were no signs anyone had broken in. “Wait. So you called me over here, scared the crap out of me, and you just want to watch movies?” I asked in disbelief.

  Her face broke into an even bigger smile as Freddie called, “And to eat popcorn! Don’t forget the popcorn!” His big goofy grin deflated any anger I might have had as he came to the door.

  I let a huge smile sweep across my face. “You guys suck.”

  THROUGH SEVERAL bowls of popcorn and two Saw movies, we all just sat together on Cam’s couch. I hadn’t realized my secret love of scary movies until that night. I was relaxed, just sitting there with them, being a teenager. As Cam bounded into the kitchen to start yet another bag of popcorn in the microwave, I felt a pang of guilt deep in my stomach. They had no idea about my past. Of course, I had only known them for a sum total of two weeks. But still, they were the closest things I had ever had to real friends. At least after the transition.

  I sighed heavily, picking at the wool blanket we were all sharing. I had just opened my mouth to say something, anything, to them about my past when my phone buzzed. I stared at the screen.

  Gotchya. Your secret is mine, fag. She told me about the car.

  I couldn’t believe it. What had Clare told him? I hadn’t said anything about my secret, just that I knew what it was like to be lost. It didn’t make any sense!

  Freddie was finally the one to poke me out of my haze. “Did you hear any of what I just said?” he teased.

  I stared at him, my eyes wide with fear.

  He scowled. “What?”

  I fidgeted, my eyes flicking back and forth between him and my phone. I couldn’t say anything, my mouth just hung open. Cam screamed from the kitchen. It was somewhere between rage, surprise, and happiness.

  “Oh my God, Clare and Brad finally broke up! Oh! My! God!” Cam’s voice echoed loudly from the kitchen. Freddie and I both took a moment to absorb that in the other room when Cam’s shrill scream sounded again.

  “Clare’s a lesbian!”

  It hit me like a ton of bricks. The breath was physically knocked out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. I seriously couldn’t draw a molecule of air into my lungs. That was what Brad had on her. The son of a bitch just shoved her out of the closet like a rag doll because she didn’t want to be raped by him anymore. It all made sense now.

  I sat in shocked silence while Cam showed Freddie something on her phone. She hustled over to me once she had shown him. He was covering his mouth in disbelief. Cam placed the phone right in front of my face. There was no denying it. Someone had posted a picture of Clare and a tall redhead I didn’t recognize making out. They had their hands up each other’s shirts, so it couldn’t be equated to an innocent little kiss after they had too much to drink.

  I shook my head slowly. “So this was the blackmail material Brad had on her.”

  Cam and Freddie both shot me quick glances. “What makes you think that?” Cam snapped.

  I shrugged. “Doesn’t it seem just a little suspicious to you that at the exact same time he and Clare break up, someone anonymously posts that picture?” I knew I was right. And I reeled in disbelief that someone was capable of that type of cruel, calculated blackmail.

  Freddie nodded. “It makes sense. Everyone thought he had something on her. But none of us thought it was this….” His voice trailed off, his eyes unfocusing.

  Cam snorted. “That’s because it’s sick. I can see why she would do anything to keep something like that hidden,” Her voice was literally toxic. It dripped with venom.

  I leaped to my feet, anger boiling in my stomach. It was people like Cam, saying things like that, who had driven me to want to die. I literally shook from the fire coursing in my veins.

  “How in the hell can you say something like that? How is loving someone wrong? So what if she likes girls? Why is that a problem, Cam?” I shouted.

  Cam’s eyes widened in surprise at my angry outburst. Freddie jumped up in between us, trying to shield Cam from me, if I had to guess.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s not what Cam is saying,” Freddie said reasonably.

  I didn’t care at that point, though. I was so furious I could spit.

  It took a minute for Cam to recover. She twisted her face up into an ugly sneer.

  “And who made you so high and mighty? Talk like that to enough people, and they’ll start to think you’re some filthy dyke,” she spat.

  I inhaled sharply.

  Even Freddie was aghast at her. “Cam, what in the actual hell is going on with you? I’ve never seen you like this.” He spoke low, his voice breathy with shock.

  I shook my head. “You ignorant, judgmental bitch. Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up every morning and hate yourself? Because I bet that’s what it’s like for Clare. You and everyone else in this whole school have watched Brad practically rape her the minute he didn’t think someone was watching for the past two years. Can you even wrap your tiny mind around how terrified she must have been of being outed to have stayed with him?”

  Freddie�
��s eyes widened in horror. “Oh my God. That poor girl,” he whispered. Cam just laughed. “She should be afraid. Being gay is wrong, Raimi. It’s a sin.” It looked as if Freddie was going to pass out, and as if Cam was willing to jump over his about-to-be-prone body to strangle me.

  I laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe. Not that it had the slightest thing to do with humor. “Oh my God. You’re hilarious, Cam. It’s so cute to watch you be all Christian after I watched you get so wasted you could barely stand. I applaud you for your fake devout faith. I hope you know that people like you are the reason kids kill themselves. You should be proud of yourself, really.”

  With that, I grabbed my coat and walked out. I was extremely glad I hadn’t told them anything. She was just like every other close-minded, hateful homophobe I had ever met. And Freddie wasn’t much better for standing there and letting her say all of those horrible things. At least he’d had the decency to feel a morsel of sympathy for what Clare had been through.

  Oh, well. They wouldn’t be missed.

  WHEN I stormed into my house, my mom didn’t ask questions. She just folded me into a huge hug. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I had trusted Cam and Freddie to be decent human beings. And what was worse was that, as scared as I was for Clare, I was more terrified of what Brad had on me. The most horrible part of it was not knowing. I wanted so desperately to tell my mom as her arms encircled me, a spoon still in her mouth.

  But she was a lawyer, and the minute she got wind of any of this, she would go all legal on me and call in her best lawyer friends, and it would be a complete mess. No, I couldn’t talk to her.

  I might’ve gone to my dad if he hadn’t been so uptight about the whole trans thing in the first place. Not to mention he was also probably out with one of his business consultants. Or finding peace at the bottom of a bottle.

  Luckily, my mom seemed to understand why I usually didn’t tell her things. She held me back at arm’s length and looked deeply into my eyes. “I love you. No matter what, sweetheart. Now let me make you some cocoa.”

  THREE CUPS of hot chocolate with my mom later, I trudged up the stairs dejectedly. I pulled out my phone. I found the picture of Clare—not that it was hard to find. Everyone in the damned school was sending it to everyone they knew—and took a screenshot of it.

  It’s not that I liked looking at it. It was a reminder to me of the kind of person Brad was, and that kept me moving. It kept me from just sitting down and letting the anger, the fear, and the emptiness seep in.

  Once in my room, I sat down heavily at my desk. Before I knew what I was doing, my fingers were flying across my keyboard, pulling up a screen that I didn’t want to see. I closed my eyes, my fingers continuing to move.

  I don’t know what or who you’re talking about. Is there any chance you have a wrong e-mail address or something in your contact information?

  My finger hovered over my mouse. I clicked send. Then, going to my other instant message window, I saw that she wasn’t online. Hastily, I shut off my computer. I assured myself that she wouldn’t see anything I sent her anyway. I’d been in her shoes before, and I knew without a doubt that the first thing she would do is turn off or throw out every device over which anyone could take potshots at her.

  In other words, I made up a simple excuse for a complex reason why I didn’t IM Clare. It wasn’t my fault that she had finally gotten rid of Brad. Right? And it was a great thing that she had gotten out from under his blackmailing, cruel thumb.

  But I couldn’t help but wonder. Was she ready to be out of the closet? Or was she just running from the psychologically bloodstained bars Brad had caged her behind? Either way, it was out of my hands now.

  I ran my palms over my hair, shivering. Memories of Texas, of getting beat up behind the bleachers day after day, the anonymous posts detailing when, where, and how I should kill myself, all raced through my mind.

  I closed my eyes and wanted to scream. God, it was all coming back. The bone-cracking fear of walking down the hallways every day and knowing that everyone who saw you was not only judging you but condemning you as less than human. Less than human. Less than human. Demon. Devil. Sinner.

  I cried silently, trying to push back the hell I had escaped, and only barely with my life.

  There was another reason that I hadn’t sent an IM of support to Clare. I was too terrified for myself to be terrified for her.

  Six

  I HELD my books close to my chest as I hurried through the halls Monday morning, keeping my head down. I didn’t glance up, desperately hoping I wouldn’t be noticed and just as desperately fearing my hope would not be realized. I practically sprinted into Spanish, flinching before I even hit the doorway.

  Except, where I was expecting laughter and derision pointed my way, no one even gave me a second look. Frowning, I took my usual seat in the back and watched the social dynamic going on in front of me. Brad was the center of everyone’s attention.

  Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t outed.

  I couldn’t help but sigh in relief, sagging against the back of my chair. I then immediately strained forward to try to catch some snippets of conversation.

  “Dude… I mean did you ever know?” That was from Chase, one of Brad’s closest friends.

  “Nah, it was a total surprise. I mean, she had always been pretty kinky in bed, but I had no idea it was because she wanted a chick to do all that stuff to her. It’s screwed up, man, it’s screwed up,” Brad muttered.

  Chase thumped him on the back. “That sucks, dude. Doesn’t it freak you out that you guys dated for so long?”

  Brad shook his head and laughed darkly. “Let’s just say this. She may be gay… but she knows her way around the bedroom.” Then the asshole pulled out his phone and showed it to his fellow asshole. “Look at that. Mmm hmm. Nah, I don’t regret tapping that.” He scrolled through what I was just going to go ahead and assume were naked pictures that he himself had made her take.

  The more I thought about it, the more I could see her pleading with him to stop and not make her do these things. Yup, and then he would pull out his phone, wave the picture of her and the redhead under her nose, and she would choke down her tears and do whatever he said.

  She was his living blow-up doll, a toy he had complete control over. It was sick. It honestly was a miracle that the AP Spanish class didn’t witness its first homicide, then and there.

  My terror of Brad knowing I was a lesbian, too, breezed right out of my mind as I was taken over by sheer rage. I had spent too long being treated like a subhuman substance, random goo someone had stepped in and ruined their shoes on, to do nothing about him using her as a sex toy whenever and however he wanted. I was just about to get out of my chair and smash his phone on the floor when she walked in.

  It was the worst I had ever seen her look, which was still pretty good. Annoyingly beautiful, in fact. Her hair was pulled back into a familiar I-don’t-feel-like-trying-today bun, her eyes puffy and red from crying. She had no makeup on and was in jeans and a severely oversized sweatshirt. Her shoulders were hunched, and she held her books a lot like I had.

  Everyone’s stares shot to her and never left her, scrutinizing her. Her face looked gaunt, like she hadn’t eaten or slept in two days. Which made a lot of sense.

  She walked past her normal seat in front of the Beast, her eyes staying on the ground.

  No one said a word. Instead, they did exactly what they knew how to do best. They judged and condemned her as something nonhuman. I could see the look in each and every one of their eyes. I felt sick. Then she looked up, her piercing blue eyes going straight to my face.

  I met her gaze for a moment. And then I looked down at my desk.

  She stopped abruptly in her path. Looking stunned, she just stood there for a moment. She slid into the nearest empty seat a few rows in front of me.

  Clare had just asked permission to seek haven with me. She just wanted to sit with me so that she wouldn’t have to face the wrath all of her c
lassmates would bring down on her alone.

  But I had told her no.

  I had not recognized her as a goddamn human who was capable of sitting with me like a normal person.

  I balled my fists up, anger swelling back up in me. Except what I told myself was anger was really fear. Not only had I stooped in that moment to the lowest level of the people around me, but I had also just locked the closet door on myself.

  I was now officially closeted. And not only had I turned my back on someone in terrible pain, who I knew was struggling, but I had turned my back on someone who was going through exactly what I had two and a half years ago.

  The bell rang for class to start. Our teacher was running late and hadn’t arrived yet.

  I stood carefully, packing my things one by one with extreme care. I set my mouth in a grim line, and without a second glance back, I walked out of that classroom.

  I was despicable. And I wasn’t about to let Clare see me continue to be exactly like the people she was surrounded by.

  I went out to my car, unlocking the doors and taking time to start the engine before I began shaking. I drove home as carefully and safely as I could, even though I couldn’t see through the bleary tears flowing from my eyes.

  LIFE IS just one big game of picking sides. Actually, no. It’s really just one long string of consecutive decisions we’re forced to make, or that we make on our own. And then, from the decisions we make, we’re sorted onto the side we play for. Kind of like Harry Potter. Except there’s no good house, no house that’s a compilation of bad eggs. We’re all just flawed people making decisions as best as we can. We’re not good or bad. We’re just human.