Page 54 of Insincerely Yours
If rumors are true, St. Vincent’s is an institution for “troubled youths” flimsily disguised as a boarding school.
Any of the flushness I had in my cheeks not a minute ago drains. Hell, I’m not even sure if there’s any blood left in my body, because all of me goes cold.
She releases her grip on my jaw and oh-so-casually saunters back to my door, opens it, and struts off down the hall. “Bethany,” she coos upon answering her cell, her breezy demeanor sounding as if she had just been discussing nothing more than the weather with me.
I don’t move, even as her footsteps fade away. Only when the closet door eases open do I bother turning my head, but it’s away from Jase’s assessing stare.
He couldn’t see the interaction from where he was, and there’s a sickly combination of shame and frailty rooting me in place. My entire body feels numb, save for the sting of phantom fingers still pressing into my jaw and the spasm trying so hard to wrench a sob out of my lungs. I have to hold my breath to keep it at bay, but my eyes betray me. Tears pour from them, and all I can focus on is Jase.
I won’t look at him, but I can hear every step, every gesture he makes as he moves over to me. I try to angle my entire body away from him, but he isn’t having it. Jase is in front of me, his hands cradling my face. He whispers for me to look at him, but I can’t. He’s being too gentle, too attentive, too…everything decent. It feels wrong somehow, like seeing the sun during a hurricane.
He suddenly goes still and I know why the second his thumb brushes over where Blythe’s had just been. With the pressure she applied, the skin has to be red.
Jase’s hand drops from my face, and to my horror, he’s charging out of the room!
My body feels disjointed with itself, my movements clumsy at best, but I run after him, catching hold of his arm just before he reaches the stairs.
I don’t dare raise my voice above anything more than a whisper, but I plead with my words, my eyes, my trembling hands. I plead for this to go away, for him not to make this worse…
Because that’s precisely what will happen.
If Jase confronts my stepmom, he isn’t going to hold back. I can’t imagine he would ever physically go after Blythe, but he’ll do a damn good job of scaring the shit out of her, making Blythe believe that he very well could.
And she’d call the cops.
She’d accuse him of trespassing.
She’d accuse him of harassment.
I wouldn’t put it past her that she’d hit herself and accusehimof doing it.
She truly would make my life a living hell, and I’d be taking Jase down with me.
Minute after minute passes, and his temper isn’t relenting. It’s like coaxing a wild animal into a cage. Not until I manage to get us both back into my bedroom do I dare let the air fully drain from my lungs.
To my surprise, the first thing Jase asks when I shut the door behind us is, “What’s Camp Zurich?”
I shudder at the mere name.
After my dad married Blythe, I was sent away to a summer camp—something that had never happened before, to me or any of my siblings. Admittedly, I wasn’t comfortable with the situation, since I hadn’t camped a day in my life, but I was reassured I wouldn’t be spending my nights on the ground ina sleeping bag. Lake Zurich, Maine accommodated its campers with cabins and mess halls and plenty of fun outdoor activities. Too badsomeoneforgot to mention to me that the eight-week retreat was exclusively for Christian and Catholic teens. To say I made a less-than-stellar first impression when I arrived wearing my AC/DCHighway to Hellt-shirt would be an understatement.
Even though I barely talked the entire trip, my faux pas had branded me as a spawn of Satan right out of the gate. I had spent time with some of the kids from the Catholic private school across town back when I was in first grade, and they had all been pretty nice for the most part.
These people, on the other hand?
Not so much.
For so-called “Children of God,” they were downright assholes.
Worse yet, the evening “games” were used to determine who would get stuck with lavatory duties each night. All the trivia questions were Bible-related, and since my family’s religious convictions go only as far as attending mass on Christmas and Easter, I got saddled with the nightly tasks of cleaning the showers and sinks, dumping the garbage, and scrubbing the toilets.
Yes, welcome to summer camp, where you will be interning as the new janitor! (insert sarcasm here)
After two weeks, I finally broke down when I returned to my cabin one night to find that someone had filled the cot of my bunk bed with leaves, stuffing them between the sheets and all over my pillows.
I refused to cry, even as all the other girls in the cabin snickered and turned out their lights. Taking great care to throw away all the foliage, I went to the linen closet to grabclean sheets…only to find the entire stash was gone. Resolute, I climbed into bed regardless and did my best to fall asleep.
It wasn’t until early the following morning that I realized something was seriously wrong. At first, only my palms were itchy, but the sensation worsened and spread to my arms, bare legs, and even the part of my face where my cheek had been resting on the pillow.
