Believe

Chapter Fourteen Robin

When I was a kid, birthday parties followed the same pattern—lots of food, lots of people, lots of inexpensive presents, a massive cake, and running around the yard like we were filming a remake of Lord of the Flies. There was a lack of parental supervision and an excess of sugar. They were perfect afternoons, and the only thing that changed from year to year was the decoration on the cake. My mother didn’t go in for big themes or extravagant luaus or bowling parties or water parks. She thought spending hundreds of dollars on a kid’s party was beyond their budget and created unreasonable expectations for the next year.

I never missed having a bounce house or pony rides. Birthdays were about the joy of running wild and tearing off wrapping paper and the added bonus of accidentally nailing my brother with the piñata stick. It worked for me.

Which was why I was relieved when Jessica broke the ice at Phoenix’s party by swiping some of his cake. He had been so painfully uncomfortable opening his gifts that I had known I had messed up. I should have warned him about the party. He wasn’t the kind of guy you sprung a surprise on, as was obvious when he attacked Riley thinking he was a burglar.

Whoops.

But once he had relaxed, I thought he’d had fun, and now we were alone in my room, sitting on the bed, and he was opening the other presents I’d gotten him, the shirts and the shoes.

With his back against the wall, he held everything up and studied it, and he looked genuinely pleased. “I don’t know how to say thank you,” he said. “This is . . . everything was . . .”

“I know.” I squeezed his hand. “You’re welcome.”

“How is your tattoo feeling?” he asked, turning my wrist.

“It’s fine. It stings a little, but it’s so small, it feels like a bee sting, that’s all. Everyone thought it was cute. The real question is, how is yours?”

“It’s fine.” Phoenix slouched, the new shoes propped next to his feet, a Rolling Stones T-shirt lying on his chest. He puckered his lips at me, asking for a kiss.

He was so damn cute, how could I resist that?

But I did. “I have one more surprise.” I stood up.

“God, are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked with a laugh. “I might wind up assaulting someone else.”

“If you assault anyone other than me in the next half an hour I’m going to be very upset,” I said, and then before I lost my nerve, I peeled my dress off over my head and let it drop to the floor.

His jaw dropped, and he made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “Holy fuck . . .”

That was a good response, one that made me feel slightly less self conscious about standing in front of him in a completely see-through bra and thong. They basically didn’t even need to exist, that’s how much coverage there was. It was pretty much just red netting, the kind they wrap mints in at weddings. I had also gotten a bikini wax for the first time in six months, and I felt sexy. Slightly unsure what to do with my hands, but sexy at the same time. No vodka required.

Phoenix set his gifts on the nightstand and sat up straighter. “What happens next?”

“Naked enthusiasm.” I tapped my phone on the nightstand, and it started playing music off the sexy-times playlist I had created. “Why don’t you sit on the edge of the bed in front of me?”

Phoenix crawled across the bed without further encouragement, his jeans sliding down his hips, hair in his eyes. The muscles of his shoulders rippled, and I sucked in a breath, no longer self-conscious. I was just hot for him. Very, very hot for him. When he was facing me, legs spread, palms flat on the bed, his gaze smoldering and sexy, I started to move, dancing slowly. Not like I did in a club, not with a manic bouncy energy, but just a slow, sensual swaying, lifting my hands into my hair to pull it back off my face.

Turning, I watched him over my shoulder, personally aroused and proud of myself, feeling together, happy, whole. I owed him that, for thinking I was beautiful when I was broken, hair dirty, clothes haphazard. Ironic how people would look at him and assume dysfunction, when I was the one who had needed him.

His lips parted, and his eyes dropped down to my ass. “Am I allowed to touch?”

“No.” Slowly, I finished the rotation and climbed onto his lap where I gyrated, making sure he got plenty of cleavage in his face. But I wasn’t quite as confident in that position that I wouldn’t fall on the floor, so instead I shoved him onto his back to gain better leverage.

“I think I’m about to become a man,” he murmured.

That made me smile as I spread my hips and kissed my way down his chest, flicking my tongue over his nipples. He was plenty of man long before he met me. Sitting back up, I slowly undid my bra and peeled it off, tossing it to the side. I had him pinned as I straddled him, and I pushed my hair back again, enjoying the feel of power over him. His nostrils were flaring and his eyes were heavy with lust.

My original thought had been to go down on him but given the position I was in and how inconsequential the thong was, I decided to go with what was right for the moment. Shifting the scrap of fabric to the side and rising up a little, I realigned our bodies so that I sank down onto him, clamping his thighs with mine, free hand gripping his chest. Phoenix gave a low moan, his eyes rolling back. I felt a moment of pure feminine satisfaction that I had done that.

As I started to move, I asked, “Is the kind of lap dance you had in mind?”

“Even better.” Phoenix held onto my hips and pumped up into me. “And all I have to say is happy fucking birthday to me.”

I would have laughed except I was too busy having an orgasm.

Maybe his party had been a success after all.

“Girls’ Night!” Kylie shouted as she ran up the stairs a week later, shaking a bottle of vodka in the air. “Let’s go, bitches!”

She was wearing short shorts and wedges and a stretchy top that stopped just below her bra. Jessica was similarly dressed, though she wasn’t showing as much skin. Rory was sitting on the couch in a floral dress with her leg crossed, foot bouncing up and down. I was wearing a sundress and cowboy boots because that felt right, comfortable to me. Going out to a club was a huge step for me. I had no intention of drinking, no desire to, nor did I want to sex it up. I just wanted to go and dance and have fun with my friends.

“Who is in for a shot before we go?” She had Dixie cups in her other hand, her gold bracelets rattling as she spread the cups on the coffee table. “Robin, I didn’t bring a cup for you because I didn’t think you’d want one.”

“I don’t. Thanks.”

“Don’t worry, I already did your shot.” She winked at me.

I couldn’t help but laugh. That was so Kylie. “But you know what, I’m going to do a shot of Diet Coke with you guys.” I went down the hall to the bathroom and got another cup and poured some of my soft drink into it as Kylie poured out the shots. I didn’t want to be totally left out. It was stupid, like why did it matter? But I still wanted to have that camaraderie, that connection.

So I raised my cup along with theirs and drank it like it was alcohol. It certainly burned a lot less going down. And I didn’t have that same reckless, fist-pumping, let’s-get-fucked-up feeling surging through me.

We all set our cups back down.

“Whose phone is blowing up?” Jessica bent over and glanced at the screen.

I realized it was my phone. “Oh, it’s probably Phoenix. He’s getting off work right now.”

“It’s Nathan,” Jessica said with a puzzled laugh. “Why is Nathan texting you?”

And just like that my face went hot and my entire world came shattering down around me.

“What?” I asked, with a weird little laugh that didn’t sound normal. I knew it didn’t sound normal. Neither was my grab for my phone. “Why would Nathan text me?”

But the phone was already in Jessica’s hand and Kylie took it from her, giving a confused laugh. “Did he text you by accident? God, are those guys trashed already? It’s not even ten yet!”

My heart was racing and hot bile rose in my mouth. “Kylie. Let me have my phone,” I said, desperate for her not to read whatever Nathan would have written. It couldn’t be good. It wouldn’t do anything but hurt her.

Now Rory was leaning forward on the couch, looking confused, and Kylie was narrowing her eyes at me. “Why?”

“Let me have the phone,” Jessica said, her voice urgent.

She knew. I could tell that she knew. Or at least suspected that it would be bad. Very, very bad.

“No.” Kylie turned her back on us and read the text out loud, “‘When are you going to break up with that loser?’ What the fuck does that mean? Why would he care if you’re dating Phoenix?”

“Oh!” I said, like I had just realized something. “It must be my cousin Nathan. My family isn’t super thrilled with me dating Phoenix.” Lie. Total lie.

“You have a cousin named Nathan?” Rory asked.

“Yes.” No.

“I didn’t realize that your family was upset about Phoenix,” Jessica said. “Dude, I can so relate.”

My family didn’t even know Phoenix had been to prison. They just knew he was a tattoo artist, nothing more. I was giving it another month or two before I brought him to Sunday dinner.

But none of that mattered because Kylie knew I was lying.

She turned around and stared at me, shock on her face, her thumb still on the screen where she had clearly been scrolling back through the texts.

It had been careless to not delete them. But maybe at the same time, I wanted proof that Nathan had been contacting me and I never answered, or told him to stop. Especially in the weeks after it had happened. Or maybe I wanted her to know that he wasn’t a nice guy at all, if this ever came out.

But whatever the reason, now those awful texts were the very thing that made my terrible secret no longer a secret.

“Kylie,” I whispered, shaking my head, not knowing what to say, what to do. There was a buzzing sound in my ears, and the tears were already there, blurring my vision, blurring the horrible sight of her staring at me looking like I had stabbed her repeatedly.

“You fucked my boyfriend?” she demanded. “You fucked my boyfriend? How could you do that, Robin?”

“What?” Rory gasped. “She wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that.” She looked to me for confirmation, but I couldn’t deny it. “Oh no,” she said weakly.

Kylie made a sound of disgust and looked at the phone again. “May 31. Text from Nathan reads, “Last night was effing amazing. Let’s do that again.” June 3. Text from Nathan. “Is it weird that I think your pussy tastes better than chocolate?”

Oh, God. I shook my head, stomach churning. “Stop. Don’t read any more of those.” I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like I was going to faint.

“Don’t?” Her finger came up, and she was crying now, heaving sobs. “Fuck you! How could you do that to me? I thought we were best friends. Oh, my God . . .” She dissolved into tears.

I was crying, too. “I didn’t mean to! I don’t even remember it, Kylie, I swear to you. I totally blacked out and when I realized . . . God, I was just sick. You have to believe it, I would never, ever hurt you.”

“Well, you have!” she shrieked. “Drunk is no excuse. None.” Then suddenly she was texting on my phone, crying and tapping and sniffling.

Oh, shit. “Kylie, don’t . . .” That was so not a good idea. She was texting Nathan on my phone. I reached for it in a panic.

But she just put her hand out and glared at me. “Don’t even, Robin, I am so serious right now. I will cut you.” Her voice was venomous.

“Just give me the phone,” I pleaded, reaching for it again.

But Kylie shoved me, and I stumbled.

“Okay, let’s just calm down,” Rory said, eyes wide as she came around the coffee table. “Kylie, maybe we should go outside and talk about this.”

“I want to see if that fucking asshole answers.” Kylie wiped her nose with her finger, her perfect French manicure neat and tidy against her streaking mascara and leaking nose.

I closed my eyes briefly, knowing that she was not going to see what she wanted to. That she was only going to add to her hurt.

“Oh, look, he answered,” she said, waving the phone and giving a watery laugh. “What was that, about a minute? Can’t remember the last time he answered me that fast. But then again, my pussy doesn’t taste like chocolate. And I can’t remember the last time he wanted to fuck me hard, which was what he suggested to you in one of these twenty-seven text messages. Yes, twenty-seven!” She took a breath, then her lips moved as she silently read.

“What did you write to him?” Jessica asked nervously.

Did it matter? It wasn’t going to change anything. My hands were shaking, and I was sobbing myself, not even sure what to say to defend myself. There were no words to make this better and I hated myself all over again.

Kylie didn’t answer. She just suddenly lunged at me with a shriek, her nails catching me across the face before I could react. The sharp pain and the flailing arms caused me to scream, too, and I threw my hands up to block any further blows.

But she was already retreating, her face crumpling as the anger turned to distress. She threw my phone at me, and it bounced off my chest painfully and crashed to the floor.

“Kylie, let me explain,” I begged.

She just shook her head and waved her hands back and forth. “Shut up. Just shut up.” Digging in her pocket she pulled out her phone and dialed a number. When the person on the other end answered, she screamed, “How could you? I’m breaking up with you and I never want to see your fucking face ever again!”

When she hung up, she stumbled toward the stairs and tripped in her shoes. Yanking them off, she took off down the stairs, crying.

“I’ll go after her!” Rory said frantically, grabbing her purse.

“I should go,” I said, starting toward the stairs.

“No.” Jessica put her hand in front of me. “It won’t help. Let her process.”

“But . . . ,” I said weakly. I knew she was right. I was the last person Kylie wanted to see. “Oh, God.” I crumpled over, hiding my face in my hands, sobbing.

“What the hell happened?” Jessica asked, sounding stunned. “Why would you have sex with Nathan? That’s so not you. You don’t even hook up with the majority of guys you make out with, so explain to me why.”

Shaking my head, I sat down on the floor and crossed my legs, not bothering to wipe my face. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except I had severed an artery in my best friend and she hated me and would forever.

“Remember that party at the Shit Shack where Riley threw that guy’s face into the booze can?” I said, voice shaky.

Jessica frowned. “Yeah. You were hanging with that Aaron guy.”

“He ditched me. And we were super drunk, remember? You were upset, and we drank a crapload of vodka.” I fingered my bracelet, spinning it around and around. “I was really, really drunk.”

“So was I. I fell out of my shoes and puked after yelling at Riley for not wanting to have sex with me. Because you know, nothing is hotter than a drunk girl falling all over the place.” She rolled her eyes. “Did Aaron do something? He seemed like a nice guy, but you never know. I mean, if he did something and then Nathan was helping you . . .”

The words were stuck in my throat. But I forced them out. “No. He just went off with some other chick after I made out with him and then, I guess, Nathan took me home. The last thing I remember is going to the keg for another drink. And then I woke up the next day in Nathan’s bed. Everything else is just . . . nothingness.”

“I knew something happened at that party.” Jessica shook her head slowly. “God, I should have stayed. I knew I should have stayed. And the next day you didn’t answer my text until like dinnertime and it just seemed like something was wrong. Then you basically withdrew all summer.”

Miserable, I nodded. “I completely blacked out, but we obviously did . . . and I just feel so awful. I mean, why would I do that? Who the hell does that to her friend? I hate myself for that night. That’s why I quit drinking. I don’t trust myself, because I didn’t think that even shitfaced I would do that.”

Jessica bit her lip. “I don’t know why you would do that either. I mean, we’ve all done stupid shit drunk, but I’ve never blacked out, so I don’t know. I don’t know what I could do that loaded.”

“It was the worst moment of my life waking up and realizing what I had done.” I shuddered.

“So this is why you wanted to move out. Why you stopped drinking and stopped washing your hair. God.” Jessica’s voice was soft, and I couldn’t tell if she felt sympathy or if she was just absolutely disgusted by me.

“Yes.”

“So what was all that with the texts?” she asked. “I mean, you woke up and freaked out and took off, right?”

I nodded.

“And you told Nathan it was a mistake?”

“Yes.” My eyes were puffy and stinging, cheek throbbing from Kylie’s nails, and I welcomed the discomfort. I deserved way worse than a nail raking. “But Nathan doesn’t feel bad about it. He texted me all summer, trying to hook up with me. I told him to stop like multiple times. I thought he had for a while until I started dating Phoenix. For some reason that bothers him and he started again.”

“So what Kylie read was a bunch of sexts from Nathan?”

Nodding, I picked my phone off the floor and handed it to her. Maybe if she knew the whole truth she could be there for Kylie in a way I couldn’t. “Look. I didn’t encourage him in any way. I just wanted him, it, to go away.”

Jessica scrolled through, twin spots of red appearing on her cheeks. “That asshole. Jesus, poor Kylie . . . God, how could he do this?”

I knew what she seeing. There were two dozen texts saying things like, “Want to see you, taste you. Mmm.” “Had so much fun. Ur a little freak and I love that.” “Bored and horny. U busy?”

My responses were pretty clear. “Not interested. Stop texting.” “It was a mistake, not happening again.”

“What did he write tonight?”

“She texted him that she was thinking about that night and he wrote, and I quote, “Best blow job of my life. Name time & place and lets make it happen again.”

I actually gagged. For a second I thought I might throw up, just right there on the living room floor, all in my own lap. But I took a few huge gulps of air and fought back the nausea and the panic. “He’s an asshole. Kylie deserves better than this.”

“Hell yeah she does. I wonder if he is texting and hooking up with other girls.”

It wasn’t a thought I’d ever had before, but it didn’t seem like a stretch that he probably was. It seemed to come far too easily for him, with absolutely zero guilt. “I don’t know. I hope not, for her sake. And maybe I should go get STD testing.” That thought hadn’t occurred to me before either. I had just figured I was a drunk mistake that he discovered he enjoyed, not that Nathan was a serial cheater.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

I lost it again, choking on a sob. “If I could take this back, I would. God, I would give anything to undo this. Poor Kylie.”

Jessica looked grim. “Well, now she knows that he’s a dick. She was going to find out sooner or later, whether it was you or someone else.”

“Well, I wish it was someone else if it had to happen at all. Knowing it was me makes it extra awful.”

“I’m texting Rory. We need to make sure Kylie doesn’t do something stupid.” Jessica went for her phone. “Shit, she already texted me. She’s going to find Nathan to confront him. Rory is with her but she wants backup.”

“I can’t go, can I?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“No. That’s not a good idea. Does Phoenix know? You need to give him a heads-up or you might be losing a boyfriend tonight.”

Again I couldn’t tell if she was sympathetic or if she was just thinking out loud. Sniffling, I nodded. “Phoenix knows. I told him what happened.”

Jess looked surprised. “You told him? But you didn’t tell me?” Her tone was hurt. “I asked you point-blank what happened at that party and you told me nothing. This was a whole lot more than nothing.”

“How could I tell you?” I asked, agonized. “Then I would have just put you in the worst position ever. If you kept the secret and Kylie found out, then she might hate you for that. If you told her then she would be devastated. I couldn’t do that to you, force you to keep my secret. It was my horrible mistake and I thought if I just kept a lid on it, eventually it wouldn’t matter anymore.”

“I see your point, but truthfully, Robin, I don’t even know what to think.” Jessica grabbed her purse and headed for the stairs. “Maybe you and Phoenix should stay here tonight and I’ll take Kylie to my place. She needs time.”

“Yeah. Sure. Of course.”

Then she left and I was alone.

Sitting on the floor, face itchy and wet with tears, nose running, throat scratchy, heart breaking, I yanked off my cowboy boots. I thought about texting Phoenix to come over but knew that was selfish. He never got to hang out with his cousins and he was tonight. I didn’t want to ruin that. But the room was so silent, no fridge upstairs to hum, no windows open to traffic, no clock to tick. It was just me and my thoughts, going around and around, thoughts of Kylie never speaking to me again. Thoughts of Jessica and Rory never speaking to me again. Thoughts of Kylie, her heart breaking, the pain she was feeling. So sure that her boyfriend loved her, only to find out he clearly didn’t.

When my boyfriend had cheated on me, it had hurt like hell and that had been high school, that had been a two-month relationship, and by cheat I meant he kissed another girl at a party. Not this. Not betrayal on this level after a year of dating. Kylie and Nathan basically lived together.

And yet, he had done this.

And I had done that.

My eyes fell on the vodka bottle, left on the coffee table. I turned away, texting Jessica and Rory.

Neither answered.

Instead I got a text from Nathan that said, “Fucking cunt. Why did u tell her?”

Closing my eyes, I felt new tears prick at the back of my lids, and I listened to the silence grow louder and louder, my ears ringing.

When I opened my eyes the vodka was still there, shiny and large and within reach of my hand.

If I drank it, I would feel better. The pain, the shame, would ease up. But then tomorrow I would feel worse.

But if I drank it, I would feel better now. And tomorrow I would feel even worse.

But if I drank it, I would feel better now . . .

I reached for the bottle.