Page 67 of Love is Angry

I’ve been dragging my feet for hours to leave, yet I can’t bring myself to get out of the house. Lounging in the den has been a more pleasant alternative, accompanied by a big mug of cinnamon tea. I think I like autumn most among the seasons. Tea, spices, roasted hazelnuts and chestnuts, pumpkin pie and every other flavor that makes this time of the year so wonderful to look forward to. The shades of amber and ruby spattered through the trees until they’re left naked and awaiting the snows of winter. The cold mornings and crisp afternoons. The rabid reds of sunset. Yes, it’s my favorite time of the year.

But Dad is on to something. “Maddie?”

“Hm?” I quickly realize I didn’t even acknowledge him, let alone his remark. He’s been standing beside my chair for a minute, maybe longer. “Sorry, Dad. My mind was elsewhere.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. But as I was saying, you haven’t been yourself, lately.”

“What makes you say that?”

He shrugs slightly. “I know we don’t make a habit of keeping secrets, and I know I’ve told you more than once that you canalways come talk to me if you want. I also understand that you might not feel comfortable sharing some things with me. It’s a decision I respect; but Maddie, this past year has changed you, and I fear it’s only gotten worse since you started college.”

“Dad…”

“No, I get it, you don’t want to tell me—”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” I interject, setting my mug on the windowsill. “It’s complicated, Dad. There are things I simply can’t share with you, for your own safety.”

Well, that gets an expected frown. “My own safety? Maddie, are you involved in something illegal or dangerous?”

“Dad, no. It’s… if I ask you to trust me, will that do anything?”

“Not much, at this point. I’m worried about you, Maddie.”

And there it is again. This concern etched deep between his eyebrows as he quietly studies my face, searching for signs of distress, for truths I would otherwise keep to myself and maybe even carry with me to the grave. I love him more than anything in this world because of how he is. This sweet and creative nerdy guy who would give his own right arm to not have to whip out his dark side, even to protect me. Because there is a dark side, and I have seen it once, as a kid. He would never forgive himself if he had to go down that road again.

I won’t be the one who sets him on it—not if I can possibly avoid it. “I’ll be okay, daddy,” I tell him. “I promise.”

Once I gotmyself back to Ithaca, the week passed in the blink of an eye. I don’t know if this is dissociation, or simply a heady sort of vertigo brought on by releasing the weight of Julian’s secret. Holding in what he did to me for so long was slowly poisoningme. I might never get the closure I want, and Julian might never get what he deserves; but at least I can breathe now.

I’m glad Rhue and Laura know. Steve too, I guess, though he sort of seems like an extension of Laura to me. Rhue hasn’t said anything to me since we’ve been back at school, but that’s understandable. He was sort of blindsided by the horror of his father. It kind of sucks—but it’s still better than having him screw with me all the time. Laura’s been texting me every day. Sometimes we talk about Julian and her mother, but mostly we just—talk. It helps.

Being back in school helps, too. To be away from where it all happened, so far from Julian’s threatening aura—and actual threats. I’ve broken his rule twice now—I've told people what he did to me. He told me he’d destroy me and my father if I ever did that. Maybe I should be more worried.

But not today.

Tomorrow, perhaps; but today I’m fine, and I intend to stay that way. With a bag full of books on my shoulder, I make my way toward one of the auditorium halls, where a lecture on Native American customs along the Western seaboard will soon take place. One of my favorite scholars will be lecturing, and I feel good about the future for once.

“Hey, Madison!” Cameron calls out. I stop and turn around, a rock in the middle of the stream of students moving past me. Cameron is all smiles. He’s been like this since the hazing ritual, though he and Lindsey have kept their relationship out of the public eye. I’m surprised Mackenzie hasn’t outed them yet, but maybe that’s coming soon. She’s a bit of a sociopath, I’ve learned—not that it’s necessarily a bad thing. “Lecture doesn’t start for another ten minutes.”

“I was hoping to get one of the good seats,” I reply with a grin.

Somewhere behind him, Lindsey and Rita have joined the river, flowing slowly but surely toward us. Lindsey’s eyes light uplike sapphires when she sees Cameron—he’s pretty tall and easy to spot, even in the middle of a crowd.

“Oh, these people have no idea which ones are the real good seats, don’t worry. I’ll take you to my side of the auditorium, where you get the perfect view, the right angle, and the optimum dispersal of sound so nothing is missed during the lecture. Trust me.”

“I actually do,” I tell him.

“Hey, you!” Rita reaches us first, with Lindsey mere feet behind her. “Ready for Professor Farnsworth? I’m so freaking stoked that we get him today.”

“Glad I’m not the only one geeking out about him,” I reply with a giggle.

Lindsey gives Cameron a playful nudge. “Absolutely not,” she says. “Rita and I agree that Farnsworth teaching here is pretty much the best part of the year. I only hope we’ll see him again next semester.”

“Or even next year,” Rita adds, nodding in agreement. “If we get Farnsworth even once a year, I’ll be happy.” She pauses to look at Cameron with a raised eyebrow, then back at Lindsey. “You two are still keeping it on the down low, then?”

It gets awkward, fast. Instinctively, Lindsey puts another foot between her and Cameron. He looks mildly annoyed, but not really surprised. My guess is he hears this at least once a day. Rita isn’t the type to let it go easily.

“I told you, it’s my decision,” Lindsey replies hotly.

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