Page 6

Madison

Dad doesn’t know.

I never told him anything. I couldn’t bring myself to break his heart like this.

Besides, he’s the knight in shining armor type who’s never afraid of the dragon; except, in this case, the dragon is Julian Echeveria, and he’s got enough fire in him to burn our entire family tree to a crisp.

None of this is worth that kind of trouble, especially not after I have managed to put some distance between myself and that family.

Well, Laura’s a bit of an exception. They say you can’t choose your parents.

That being born is basically a lottery. Either you luck out with good parents like mine, or you get scourges like Rhue and Laura’s.

The kids never ask for trouble, yet trouble finds them, anyway.

It’s how I summarize my experiences so far.

“You sound a million miles away,” Dad says.

His voice reminds me that we’re still on the phone.

I’m taking a walk around the campus building.

My Bluetooth earphones are in and I’ve got my hands in my jacket pockets, where it’s warm.

The evenings have gotten colder. The air is crisp, and sometimes, early in the morning, milky mist lingers on my lips when I breathe.

I look forward to winter in Ithaca. I was told that it is beautiful.

“What’s wrong?” Dad says, pulling me away from my thoughts once again.

“Nothing, Dad. It’s just first day jitters,” I tell him.

Crossing the street, I look both ways and only see a pair of crimson taillights heading downtown.

This town is practically deserted after eight on a weeknight, I realize.

Sure, there are still some people out, most of them flocking into the supermarket for last minute shopping.

No one’s walking aimlessly or bar hopping.

Then again, I should have expected this.

Ithaca isn’t New York. At least not in the traditional sense.

I keep forgetting to tone my expectations down a little.

“But the first day is over, Maddie. You should be chilling,” Dad replies, almost laughing. I suppose my anxiousness makes sense to him, bringing back memories of his own college experiences. “The worst has already passed. You’re settling in.”

The worst has not yet come to pass, but I cannot tell him that. He’ll move to Ithaca and accompany me to classes just to make sure no one messes with his precious angel of a daughter—ugh, I’m anything but. I can’t tell him that either, though.

Dad has been like this, overprotective, since Mom died. I can’t blame him. I protect him just as fiercely.

“That’s true. You’re right, Dad, I should loosen up a little,” I say, trying to smile as I walk down the street.

It’s easy for me to blend in with this black tracksuit I’ve got on.

It’s one of the first things I learned back in Rochester after things blew up with Rhue.

Staying out of people’s sight and minds is easier than tackling the problem head-on.

“I guess there’s more to it, though. The stress of moving from one place to another.

Not knowing anybody here. A new school. It’s a lot to take in. ”

“But you have always been good at adapting, Maddie. For as long as I can remember, you’ve been this tough little cookie that can withstand anything. Remember what your mom used to call you?” His voice breaks. I know he’s got an image of mom in the back of his head. “Her little tardigrade.”

I laugh. “Right. Yeah. Leave it to Mom, the rebellious middle-school science teacher, to whip up a cool nickname for her only daughter.”

“It was a cute nickname. And true! Admit it!”

“I admit it! Tardigrades are known to withstand the harshest conditions, including the Moon’s atmosphere,” I reply. “Guess Mom knew something I didn’t.”

Dad sighs deeply. “You’re strong, Maddie. Stronger than I ever was. You’ll pull through, no matter what life throws at you. Plus, you’re way too smart to let yourself be overwhelmed.”

I could cry. I could. If only he knew the hits I’ve taken since Rhue Echeveria smugly barged into my life.

I never asked for any of this. I never sought to be around him.

That was his doing. All his. My very soul was broken because of that family of his; yet here I am, still moping about them. About him.

“How are things back in Rochester?” I ask my dad. “How’s the shop?”

My dad’s furniture shop hit it big a few years ago when he changed the entire marketing strategy and focused his efforts online.

He has always been old school and a fan of printed advertising, but the times caught up with him in a bad way.

It took some convincing, but once he caught the hang of social media, he became an unstoppable beast.

“It’s going well, actually,” Dad says. “I thought with you being gone that I’d take a hit, but I didn’t.”

“You know your way around the social platforms,” I tell him. “You never really needed me to post stuff for you. Besides, most of Rochester already knows how good your woodwork is.”

“True, but I’ve been getting lots of outside orders since we went online, and you were doing a damn good job of managing that aspect,” he replies. “Thankfully, Noelle has been a more than adequate replacement.”

He needs to cut Noelle some slack and maybe marry her. I wouldn’t mind. She’s ten years older than me and crazy in love with my dad. Despite the age difference, they fit so well together. He’s the Yin to her Yang, in a way. And she sure knows how to whip his ass when he gets out of line.

There’s an ache in my heart whenever I think of them. Every part of me wishes my mom was still alive that it was them I was rooting for instead of dad and someone else. But that’s not the way things are. In the end, all I want for my dad is the best. Noelle seems to be that for him right now.

“Ugh, I miss you both so much right now,” I blurt out, my eyes stinging from rogue tears.

“You’ve only been gone a couple of days, Maddie, c’mon.” It does make him chuckle, though. I suppose he finds my angst rather endearing. If he only knew the truth, he wouldn’t think it’s funny. Not in the least bit funny.

The town is quiet. Almost asleep as I gaze at it from the upper end of Main Street. Most of the windows are dark, some dimly lit, only a few are bright and showcasing movement—people winding down for the rest of the evening, maybe setting dinner and taking their seats around the table.

I can almost hear the cork being unscrewed off a bottle of prosecco.

The shredded basil sprinkled atop a plate full of tomato sauce and pasta.

I can almost taste the salty parmesan grated over the hot fettucine, the cool, honey-glaze white wine that follows.

I’m laughing with them as we talk about our day.

Only, they don’t really exist. My friends. I don’t have any.

They’re just pretty figments of my imagination as I wish to be a different person altogether. Who I was brought me nothing but trouble, yet who I’m trying to be is practically impossible because Rhue insists on making sure I’m an outcast throughout the next four years at Cornell.

“Thanksgiving is just around the corner,” Dad says.

“The Echeverias are throwing a charity feast in the city center, and they’ve invited us.

Of course, I’ve been commissioned to build them about a dozen new outdoor dinner tables and matching chairs for the event.

They’re charging a pretty penny for the tickets, but Noelle, you, and I get to go for free because of services rendered. ”

The last two words bring back the earlier episode with Cameron. The memory makes my stomach churn, and the imaginary taste of basil and tomato sauce and Italian cheese becomes bitter and vile and something I’d like to expel from the very depths of my being because of how foul it makes me feel.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, hearing my tone shaking like a reed in a sudden gust of scorching wind.

I’m about to burn from the inside out at the thought of my family clashing with the Echeverias.

Nothing good came out of the first entanglement.

Why should it be better the second time around?

There’s bad blood there, and Dad… fuck, he doesn’t know.

I can’t tell him. I have to figure out a better way to keep him away from Julian and his wretched son.

“Why not come up to Ithaca this year? We can book a table at a local restaurant, and you could bring Noelle, too. There’s a neat little motel not far from campus that has nice and cheap rooms, and you could both spend the night. I’m thinking a post-Thanksgiving breakfast, too?”

Dad isn’t convinced. “Honey, that’s sweet, but I’ve already told Mr. Echeveria we’re going. Well, Noelle and I, at least, are going. I wouldn’t confirm on your behalf, anyway. I thought you got along with his kids. Didn’t you tutor his boy for a while?”

It’s like a sucker punch to the gut. It comes hard and fast and knocks me off my feet.

I almost lose my balance but find the black iron railing at the base of the.

From here, I’ve got a clear path all the way down on the other side and up Mitchell Street directly towards campus.

I didn’t even realize until now the length of my walk.

Sometimes, I’m so lost in thought that I forget to stop and turn back during these outings.

It’s a little tough out here, too, since I don’t know Ithaca that well yet.

But it is definitely a quiet and welcoming place. There’s nothing for me to be afraid of, even at night. It’s more about the length of my walk back.

Checking my watch, I realize I’ve been out longer than I would have liked. I’d planned on having a relatively early night, and I haven’t even had dinner yet. Then again, who the fuck feels like eating when Rhue Echeveria is in town?

“I was just hoping we could spend some family time instead,” I tell Dad, then slowly make my way down the low hill and follow the stony path leading toward the park exit.

A dog barks in the distance, letting me know that I’m not completely alone.

I draw a little comfort from that and put one foot in front of the next.

Like I said, I’m not exactly afraid, but if I do happen to need someone to point me in the direction of home, at least I know there’s someone out there.

“Let’s just put a pin in Thanksgiving for now and revisit in a week, okay?” Dad replies. It’s his way of saying that he’s going, anyway. He’s taking Noelle with him, too.

If I’m in Rochester and not at that open dinner thing, there will be gloating.

It will be proof that I don’t want to be around Julian—and it would be the truth.

Why deny it, still, when it’s technically him who sent me away, in the first place?

Truth be told, I would have liked another gap year before starting classes again.

I would have liked to spare my dad any additional expenses for this educational endeavor, yet I ended up doing the exact opposite.

He doesn’t mind, of course, but damn it—that day continues to haunt me.

By the time I reach my dorm room, Dad’s already fixing up dinner for himself.

I think he’s got Noelle over, too. I may have heard her in the background, earlier.

I don’t know why he’s so secretive when it comes to her being at the house.

He knows I like Noelle, despite their age difference.

The thought of a younger woman and an older man shouldn’t make anyone squirm, unless…

White lightning flashes before my eyes and I’m pretty sure I break into a cold sweat.

The decay and descent into despair is so sudden, so mean and merciless and determined to break me down that I just fall apart.

My dad, Noelle, my mom… everything in my life fades away as I manage to lock the front door and lean with my back against it.

My heart is thumping as the past forces its way back into my future.

The way Julian touched me, flipped me over, how easy my legs spread as he pushed himself inside of me.Heat bursts up my throat, colliding with the regret I’ve felt ever since I made the decision to go back to the Echeveria house that night.

“No, no more…” I’m crying. It’s muffled, and no one can hear me.

And then I’m seeing it like it’s happening all over again, Rhue’s eyes meeting mine. The anger in them. The pain in them. I will never forget that moment. I broke him in that moment. I broke his heart. His happiness. His family. But I have paid for my mistakes.

The pounding follows a rhythm. It’s rough and hard. It hurts. I can feel myself clenching. I can feel the past’s grip on my flesh, its claws ripping through my soul as I understand for the millionth time that it will never truly be over.

The vivid memory becomes a reality of sorts, as the bitterness of regret climbs down my throat and mixes with the bile that is so eager to come out and spill all over the dormitory’s cream carpet.

At least I’m not sharing this room with anyone. I can just fall to my knees and shudder and cry my heart out until my eyes are dry and empty marbles.

I curl into a fetal position and allow the first waves of a panic attack to take over. I have learned that it’s better to give into it than to fight it. It’s better to let the storm rage through me until it dies out.

One moment, I’m trying to be a better Madison, to make friends, to build a career, and to look into the future.

Next thing I know, it’s all coming apart at the seams, and the past returns with a vengeance, the vivid nightmares making my very spirit scream in agony.

No, it isn’t over. I doubt it will ever truly be over.

I can only survive. Right now, seeing Rhue again has triggered new crises. I need to find a way to rise above.

One day at a time, right?

Just one day at a time.