I pull into the church parking lot by my house, park the car, and bawl into the steering wheel. I check my phone but Ben hasn't called or texted.
I'm crying so much that I lose my breath and start wheezing, panting like I can't take in any air at all. I grip the wheel in fear and then do what Dr. Moran taught me—close my eyes and focus my breath out of my nostrils and into my mouth, over and over. My breath returns to normal and the tears stop falling but my eyes are sticky and raw.
I put the car in drive and go home, feeling sore all over my entire body. It hurts most in my heart.
#
When I get home, I keep my head down as I walk through the door. Mom and Dad are watching TV in the living room.
"How was—" Mom starts.
"Sorry!" I shout, racing up the stairs. "Gotta pee really badly!"
Both of my brothers' doors are closed, thank god. If they see my puffy face, I'm doomed, but I make it to my room and lock the door.
What else can I do now but cry and listen to the most melancholy music I own? In Rainbows will have to do. I don't even have the energy to change. I just lie on my bed and let Radiohead drown out my thoughts.
My phone vibrates. Please, please be Ben.
It's not. It's Mom asking me why I'm not answering the door. I check my face in the mirror, luckily most of the redness is gone. Then I open the door a crack.
"Sorry, music was too loud," I say.
"How'd the portrait come out?" she asks.
"Oh you know... He's not the best drawer." I force a laugh.
Her eyes search my face. Any second now she'll sniff me out. She'll know I'm lying.
"Did you eat?"
"Uh huh."
She nods. "Okay, well, goodnight." She turns but stops herself. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Just tired."
She's seems skeptical but she waves and walks away.
#
I wash myself thoroughly in the shower, letting the hot water sear my skin for far longer than climate activists would recommend. The sting between my legs reminds me that I had sex tonight. I forgot. The moment Ben told me to leave, everything that happened prior to that is a total blur in my memory. Wiped from my brain.
I walk into my room with a towel wrapped around my head and my brothers are sitting on my bed. Logan is at the edge with his knees hugs to his chest with his eyebrows knitted together while Dean has his back against the wall and his legs stretched out, one eyebrow up like he's expecting me to answer a question he hasn't yet asked.
"Do you mind?" I say.
"No," says Dean. He windshield-wipes his feet back and forth.
"Seriously. Get out," I say.
Neither of them move.
"What happened?" Logan says.
I scoff. "What—are you my parents?"
"No. We only shared a womb for nine months," says Dean.
There's no way in hell that I'm telling them what happened. I already know I'm a gigantic hypocrite. But worse than that, I'm selfish. My brothers are the only ones that would call me out on that and I don't want to hear the words aloud.
"We just hung out and stuff," I say. "Nothing interesting happened."
"You went over there on a school night. There's only one reason to ever do that," Dean says as if he's an expert.
I throw up my hands. "It's not interesting okay?" I grab my towel. "Now if you don't want to see your sister butt-naked, get out of my room."
Both my brothers begrudgingly get up and leave.
"Something's definitely up," Dean says to Logan loud enough for me to hear.
After they close my door, I take out the pink pills and shake it like a rattle. It's been awhile since I needed one. I put it back in the drawer. Maybe if I can't sleep I'll take one, but I'll try without it.
#
I wake up to someone shaking my bedframe.
"I'M UP!" I scream, opening my eyes. Dean is standing over me, huffing and puffing. "What?"
His lip tightens. "We're gonna be late for school because of you."
"Go without me." I turn and face the wall but Dean pulls my shoulder back.
"What the hell is your problem, Ror?"
"You are!"
He backs away with his hands up. "Fine, princess."
When he's gone, I run to lock my door, and then I curl back in bed. My phone sits on the nightstand, taunting me. I have it on loud just in case. I press the circle button on it to light up the screen but it's blank.
As I shut my eyes, my phone starts buzzing. My heart leaps and I snatch my phone, but it's only Dad. I'm tempted not to answer but he might break down my door if I don't.
"Hello?"
"Mom's taking Colin to the doctor and you can't skip school." I can hear the rev of his car engine. He's already on his way to work.
"Why?"
"Are you sick?"
I hesitate. "Yes..."
"Rory, I know you. You're a total hypochondriac. If you were sick, you'd be bugging me or Mom about it."
"I am not!" I protest.
"Either get your butt to school or I'm coming back home to take you to Dr. Moran."
I grip my phone. I can't tell Dr. Moran that I've done the opposite of what she taught me to do. What if she thinks I lie about everything? What if she diagnoses me with borderline personality disorder?
"It's fine," I say. "Liz can get me. Don't call Dr. Moran." I hang up.
#
Liz has a free first period so she has no problem picking me up. I convince her to stop at the Center for breakfast sandwiches because there's no way I'm going to Drawing. I don't know what I'll do when I see Ben. No idea at all.
Liz can tell I'm acting strange. "You want to skip your one class with your boyfriend?"
"He's not my boyfriend anymore," I blurt. It only feels right to tell Liz. She doesn't hide any secrets from me.
"You guys broke up?" Liz pumps the breaks, jolting me forward so hard that the seatbelt locks against my chest.
"Oft!" I say.
"When? Why?"
"Last night. He ended it."
"Oh no. I'm so sorry," she says.
"Don't be. I deserve it."
She snorts with disbelief. Then I explain. I tell her everything from the night with Jess's brother, to the therapy, to the lie to Ben. We're parked at the Center when I finish the story. Liz takes her time before answering. I can't read her face. She looks very concerned, pensive.
"You know I'm a say it how I see it kind of girl," she says. "So do you mind if I speak freely?"
Crap. Now I wish I saw Dr. Moran instead. I gulp and nod. "Uh huh."
"Let me first say that I'm sorry for what happened to you. It's a hundred and ten percent not your fault. At. All. Screw that guy. I mean—not literally but yeah, screw him. But about this 'lie'? I think you're being dramatic. Both of you."
Okay, I wasn't expecting her to say that.
"Losing your v-card is overrated. And sex is weird. There's so much stigma around it. It's never really about doing it with the right person. It's more about getting it over with so you can say you've done it. Then you can actually enjoy it the second time, and the third, and forth. You get what I'm saying."
I shake my head. "But I still lied."
"Yeah. What I'm trying to say is that it's not a terrible lie. You're not a terrible person. It's understandable because everyone lies about it in high school. And as I said, it's overrated."
"Not to Ben."
She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well. He'll get over it."
"Or he won't."
"If he doesn't, you're better off. Don't need to be with someone so sensitive like that. I don't care how hot he is." Her eyes drift to the dashboard. "Crap, we're gonna miss the bell for second period!"
While Liz semi-speeds up the road to school, I let her words sink in. They give me a small amount of hope. Maybe Ben will do the same thing I did and forgive me. But how long should I hold onto that hope? A week? A month? And if he doesn't forgive, then maybe Liz is right that I'm better off.
It's just hard to imagine anyone better than Ben.