Sick but mesmerized, I say, “Where would you hide?”
“Right out in the open. I got so good at being what they wanted, their eyes would gloss right over me like I wasn’t there. I lost more than thirty pounds in those six weeks, along with all my childhood.” Her voice hardens. “And nobody ever saw the real me again.”
I feel an almost overpowering need to break something. That counselor’s nose.
“When I came home, my parents were ecstatic. They didn’t notice my new silences. They didn’t notice how I always looked at the floor. All they saw was my thin new body. Success. I really fucking hated them for that. So, to get back at them, I gained all the weight I’d lost, plus some. Then my mother got cancer and died. My dad remarried a lady who hated the sight of me. Everything was about as shitty as it could be, until my dad’s best friend from the navy came to visit when I was fourteen, and I got an education in what the word ‘victim’ really meant.”
I realize I’m squeezing her arm too hard. I relax my hand and kiss her shoulder, half of me waiting for her to continue, half of me wanting her to stop.
I already know where this is going.
“His name was Lance. To this day, if I hear that name, I want to throw up. Lance with the buzz cut and too much Polo cologne.Lance with a smile like a shark’s. My father worshipped him, my stepmother flirted with him, and I stayed as far away as I could because of the way his eyes followed me everywhere, like one of those haunted-house paintings at Disneyland.”
She stops abruptly.
My voice low, I say, “What did he do to you?”
“Everything,” she says with no emotion, as if it happened to someone else. “Everything that a grown man could do to a helpless young girl.”
I have to close my eyes and breathe slowly and deliberately so I don’t scream out loud. “Did you tell your father?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“Do?” She laughs. “Nothing. He didn’t believe me. He thought I was making it up. Looking for attention. Like a pathetic fat girl would.”
I’m breathless with fury. Glowing white-hot with it. I need to put my hands around her father’s throat and squeeze until I see the life fade from his eyes.
“Lance left in a week. Five weeks later, I found out I was pregnant.”
I curse violently in Gaelic. Sloane sighs.
“If that makes you angry, you might not want to hear the rest.”
Through gritted teeth, I say, “Tell me.”
“I decided I wanted to keep the baby. I kept the pregnancy a secret from my dad, but I didn’t know how I was supposed to handle being a teenage mom with no money. But ultimately, I didn’t have to know. This guy at school who was always harassing me for being a ‘fat fuck’ pushed me down the stairs on the quad. I miscarried at thirteen weeks.”
I can’t speak. For a long, frozen moment, I’m blank, unable to process what she’s telling me.
Her voice soft, she says, “That’s how I knew I wasn’t pregnant at the hospital. When there’s a baby growing inside you, all kinds of things change.”
“Sloane. Jesus. Fuck.”
“I know. It’s not pretty. It wasn’t pretty for me for a few years there after that. I was depressed. I had terrible anxiety. I felt like I was going out of my head. I started cutting myself, wearing all black. I shaved my hair to a mohawk. Pierced my nose and a few other things. I shut down. But underneath that, I was so. Fucking. Angry. So angry, I wanted to die.”
She rolls over and gazes at me with clear eyes. Her voice is calm. “Do you want to know what saved me?”
“What?”
“Natalie. My best friend. My only friend. I wanted to kill myself so many times during those years. The only reason I didn’t is because of her. Over and over again, she saved my life. You know what else?”
“I don’t know if I can take it.”
“She never knew about the pregnancy. Except for the nurse who gave me the test at Planned Parenthood, no one knew. I was too ashamed. You’re the only living soul I’ve ever told. I want you to understand what that means.”
My pulse throbbing and my voice hoarse, I say, “It means I can trust you.”