She shrugs.“He was doing what was best for you at the time.You wanted space.He gave it to you.”
“This is why he regrets sending me away.”
“Yep.Well, partly.We also missed you, dummy.”She starts folding my clothes from the pile on the suitcase.I follow suit, realizing the terrible mess I’ve made.
Ivy goes to the closet for hangers.“Dad had to explain it to Henry, remember?Poor guy.I never knew he wasthathung up on you.He always seemed detached at school.The sex must’ve been amazing.”
“We never had sex,” I say weakly.“Well, we pleasured each other once.No penetration.”
She stops fussing with my clothes to give me a disappointed stare.“Um, how romantic?”
I ignore her sarcasm.“I don’t know what to do.”
“Why not stay and see this through?For Dad?For me?”
I take another deep breath.“I’ll fulfill my obligation.”
“Good.That’s a start.”She reaches into the closet with a guffaw.“Ah, and you said you didn’t own a dress.”
Laughing, she holds up my prom dress.The tulle material swishes as she waves it through the air.“God, I loved this dress.I almost wore it to my senior prom, but I thought it might be bad luck.I did steal the shoes, though.Had to.”
My fingers drift to the netting of the poofy skirt.It’s a dreamy dress: dark pink with embedded sparkles, an A-line, ankle-length skirt, and a strapless corset top.Ivy helped me pick it out when I thought I could do it, when I thought I could be his girlfriend, his prom date,his.
Hisburden.
I flashback to high school, me sitting outside the guidance counselor’s office while Dad met with her alone.The door was shut, creating a windowed barrier between me and their discussion.But the odd window that separated her office from where I sat was cracked open just enough to hear them—an oversight indicative of the gaping holes in my formal education, I thought.It was senior year.An oversized neanderthal named Brock, whose only usefulness appeared to be on a basketball court, had made unseemly and unwanted advances toward me in the art supply closet after school.
I handled it—it was not the first time a testosterone-driven, ego-inflated male had propositioned me, especially in private, where other classmates couldn’t see.The matter should’ve been settled with my rejection, but he retaliated by circulating rumors.By the week’s end, laughter and insults followed me wherever I went, and I became known for hand-jobs and blow-jobs.A flytrap.
That information wasn’t discussed in the counselor’s office—I never told anyone, not even Henry.Rather, I was in trouble for disrupting Mr.Henderson’s English class when, upon discussing Kate Chopin’sThe Awakeningand the wordrendezvous, he said, “You know what that word means.Right, Venus?”
The class snickered at his obvious innuendo.That the rumors had reached the teachers wasn’t a surprise.Nor was it shocking that Mr.Henderson would make his snide remark—he seized opportunities to “put me in my place,” especially since it was clear from the start that I understood the English language and literature far better than he did.
I should’ve kept my head down and mouth shut.
But Henry looked devastated, slumping at his desk and tapping his pencil fiercely against his binder, enacting the system we devised in elementary school to help me curb my unwanted behaviors.Tapping meant I should ignore whatever was bothering me and refrain from reacting.
Only I couldn’t.
“I know many words of French origin,” I said, hands fisting under my desk.“Enculéis also relevant here.Do you know it?”
Mr.Henderson’s bushy brow shot up as he snickered over his inappropriate joke.“What’s that mean?”
“Loosely translated… motherfucker,” I answered dutifully.“You’re a motherfucker.”
The class gasped and hooted while Mr.Henderson’s face went beet-red.He pointed to the door while I gathered my things.
“Please, don’t remove her,” Dad said to my counselor.“She wants to be with Henry.That’s what we arranged.”
“Yes, Dr.Blake, I know.Your pressure to pair Venus with Henry is well known.He’s a calming presence for hersometimes,” she said, “but it’s unfair to saddle him with that responsibility.Henry has a respectable GPA and is well-liked.He’s the captain of the basketball team this year.He is well-acclimated, and she… isn’t.For him, their friendship is aburden.”
The dress waves in the air as Ivy shakes it out, bringing my attention back to her.“You should wear this to dinner next time.Christie wouldloveit!The rest of your wardrobe is slightly atrocious.”
“Do you remember Dad picking my school schedules?”I ask, dazed, still trying to capture the fuzzy memory.
“Yeah, of course,” she says as if I should’ve known.“He wanted you with Henry, but it didn’t always work out.”
“I’ve only just remembered that.”
