Chapter 20 #2
She put down her phone and brought her attention back to her desk.
Four women in total had now accused Dave Moore of sexual assault, and according to Metropolitan the latest development was that the Los Angeles police department was building a case to take him to court.
Moore, as expected, denied every single allegation, his lawyers whack-a-moling each one as they popped up in what felt like rapid succession.
Avery wondered what would even happen if Moore was brought to court.
At least one victim would probably need a rape kit, for one, to have strong DNA evidence against him.
But maybe at first these victims hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that Moore had raped them, so why would they have gotten something called a rape kit?
They should change the name of that to something else.
Something that didn’t require victims to admit what was done to them.
Also, she’d read horror stories about how violating it was to collect samples for the kit.
Who’d want to do that immediately after having already been violated?
Avery’s heart slammed against her ribcage.
She refused to contemplate this any further.
This Dave Moore story was only further proof that #MeToo hadn’t made any of the progress everyone thought it did.
So many women spoke out during that movement, and for what?
For this shit to keep happening and coming to light?
For more readers, still, to say in the comments of Metropolitan ’s coverage that the journalists writing about this case should kill themselves?
The associate social media editor could handle this one later. Avery was over it.
“Morning, Avery,” Larry said, leaning against Avery’s desk. “Can I get some help making a video montage?”
Avery was relieved by the interruption. She helped Larry cut together some clips he had taken during a vintage car pop-up museum on the Upper West Side. As she finished showing him how to post the video to his social media accounts, her computer dinged with a message from Kevin.
Larry has 10k Instagram followers but I can’t get an email back from a recruiter at BuzzFeed? Make it make sense
Avery grabbed the box of Insomnia Cookies she’d bought on her way to work this morning and walked over to Kevin’s desk.
She’d remembered Kevin was hearing back from BuzzFeed today, his second choice after he didn’t get the Entertainment Weekly job, and wanted to get him something to ease his nerves.
She was glad at least one of them was pursuing their career dreams. Maybe one day she would find the motivation to join him, to try writing again in a real way.
Then she’d never have to work on the Dave Moore story ever again.
Kevin gasped when he saw the white box. “You didn’t.”
“I did.” Avery put the box down. “We’ll use them to celebrate if you get the job. If not, we’ll stress eat.”
“What if Patricia asks what they’re for?”
Avery pursed her lips in thought. “Your birthday?”
“It’s next month anyway, so, close enough. Can you believe I’ll be twenty-seven? Officially in my late twenties.”
Avery pretended to be disgusted. “Wow. Should I call the nursing home? Reserve you a spot?”
“Don’t waste your time. I’ll be dead soon. Just like our racist uncles.” Kevin helped himself to a chocolate chip cookie. “I can’t wait to be out of my twenties. My sister is thirty-two. She says you care so much less about what people think in your thirties.”
“That sounds nice. Probably because you’re more secure in who you are by then. Or so I hear.”
Kevin choked out a laugh. “Can you imagine what it would be like to not hate yourself?”
“I literally can’t.” Avery tried to keep her voice light, but the weight of the truth of her response nearly made her fall through her chair.
She thought about their conversation some more later that night, at home after work.
Your twenties, she mused, were supposed to be filled with discovery, a time when you explored who you were and what you wanted out of your life.
Yet all Avery was doing was running further from herself, further from the truth about what Noah did to her.
She tried to push it away by skirting around conversations with Pete and being an attentive friend and maid of honor to Morgan, but those moments of success almost always came with a side effect of destruction.
She could only run so far from the minefield of her past before another explosion affected her relationships and forced her to clean things up yet again.
And although she hadn’t been a mess for that long, already she’d gotten used to it, the way human beings can get used to any deplorable condition if they’re steeped in it long enough.
She was comfortable being this person, and the thought of the work it would take to confront the truth sounded exhausting, like an uphill battle she was too out of shape to climb.
But how much longer could she live like this, so scared of being honest about that night?
She didn’t know. Up until this point she’d lied to herself and everyone else.
And in just a few short months the wedding would be over, and Noah and all her old friends would be out of her life for good, and then she’d feel less pressure around maintaining the lie.
It was the finish line she had to cross, even if she had to army crawl her way there.
She was looking forward to that immensely, to the exhale of relief of no longer having to think about any of this, because lately she felt like a wire pulled so taut that soon it would snap.
Freedom was so close, she could taste it.
As she vowed to just keep moving forward, one foot in front of the other until it was all done, her phone vibrated with a FaceTime from Morgan.
“Tell me everything ,” she said when Avery answered.
Avery propped Morgan’s face up on her bathroom sink, then continued brushing her post-shower wet hair in front of the mirror. “The picnic was great. The weather was gorgeous, and I showed him some of my writing. He loved it.”
“Of course he did, Avery! You’re a great writer.”
Avery smiled. But she knew she was burying the lede. “And I invited him to the wedding.”
Morgan gasped, clapped her hands excitedly. “You did? Oh my God! That’s huge!”
“I know! I was gonna wait until after the Colorado trip, to see how that went, but I’m feeling so good about him. It felt right to invite him now.”
“I’m so happy for you. This is gonna be amazing!” Then Morgan’s mood changed, darkening as she took a breath. “I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you that Ryan’s coming. To the wedding.”
A flash of heat pricked Avery’s chest. She put down her hair brush.
“I know,” Morgan sighed. Avery’s face must’ve said it all. “I’m so sorry.”
Avery leaned over the sink, pressing her palms into the edge. “Pete and I sort of had the ex talk. I mentioned I had a boyfriend in college but specifically didn’t tell him anything about why it ended, or—” Avery massaged her temples. “And now he’s coming ? Are you sure? ”
Morgan tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, her discomfort tangible through the phone screen. “I’m positive,” she said in a gentle voice. “We got his RSVP in the mail yesterday.”
Avery didn’t know what to say. But also, there was nothing to say. Morgan had warned her. Still, Avery couldn’t look at her.
“Fine.” Avery picked up her hair brush again. “Whatever.”
Morgan shot a glance off-screen, then stood up and started walking down the hallway of her apartment, keeping the phone steady on her face. “It’s not like Ryan’s gonna say anything. Why would he?”
“You don’t know that. He might get too drunk and make a dick comment.
You know how he can get.” Avery fought a thick knot of hair at the base of her skull.
“Or what if I act weird? What if my behavior around Ryan gives something away?” She yanked hard until she heard a ripping sound.
“Things were going so well between me and Pete. This is going to ruin everything.”
Morgan sighed as she settled into what looked like her and Charlie’s bed.
“Look, one thing at a time. Just focus on the bachelor party first. It seems like you’ve gotten better at being around everyone, so I’m hopeful you and Pete will have a good time.
Have you been able to talk to Noah about the plans? ”
Avery’s stomach dropped at the reminder of that phone call with Noah, from which she couldn’t recall a single detail.
He’d told her to research some activities, but she forgot what she was supposed to be researching.
She didn’t even remember where in Colorado they were going.
Snowsomething? Rainsomething? There was no way she’d call him back to confirm, though.
“Oh, yeah. Noah—” Avery paused. That was the first time she’d uttered his name out loud since college. “Noah called me. We talked about it.”
His name tasted like poison on her tongue.
The last time she’d said it was as a cry, a whimper muffled by an enveloping darkness.
And now, in her nightmares, the sound of her voice begging him to stop jolted her awake all the time in a cold sweat, her body twisted in her dampened bed sheets.
It was a sound she would never forget. A night of decisions she would never forget.
And soon she’d have to see Ryan again, her scorned ex-boyfriend, the end result of that night coming palpably to life.
With Pete right there to witness it all.