Chapter 10
Bonnie
I leave on shaky legs, my feet soundless on the marble floor of Ethan’s office. Thankfully, Will isn’t at his desk to see my red face. I plaster on a smile once I reach the tech floor, even managing to chat with Grace Martinez, one of the interns who stops me for some quick advice.
I’m good. I’m great. I’m Bonnie. I made a pass at my boss again, and he threw me out. All in a day’s job. Happens to the best of us.
Ethan is such a mind fuck, blowing hot and cold. I can’t believe he was all up against me again and I fell for it. Again.
He consumed me with his blistering heat, then went cold. What’s his problem? Does he get off on getting women horny and then pulling the rug out from under them?
Fucking weirdo asshole.
I need a stiff drink. But in the absence of that, strong, black coffee will have to do. Not wanting to go to my office just yet, I make a detour to the staff room, hoping to get my composure back.
Thankfully, the large room is empty, as it’s way past lunchtime. I carry my coffee to the furthest corner of the room and look out of the large window into the Manhattan skyline.
Ethan clearly has issues. His office was dark again when I went back in. How does he even see in there? You’d think with his poor vision, he’d need all the light he could get. And he’s definitely something of a neat freak. OCD maybe? Plus, he’s a workaholic.
How on earth has he not managed to scare away everyone in his life? Even Sabrina talks about him like he’s a normal, regular guy.
He’s so fucking not!
What I can’t understand is why I’m so drawn to someone I don’t even like. I can’t believe I got aroused. Again.
I thought that my reaction in Cancun was due to the embarrassment I felt at the time. And in the kitchen that night, I put it down to the unexpected meeting. It’s happened again. What do I call this now? Anger, maybe?
No.
I fully accept that I’m very attracted to Ethan Hawthorne. In a way that I've never been drawn to any other man. And he has been nothing short of horrible to me. Except for when he’s not.
Like his messages, which I’m now pretty sure Will sends on his behalf.
Before Ethan, the last time I truly felt like ripping a man’s clothes off was that night at Debs, or prom, as it's called here, ten years ago when I was seventeen. The night Siobhán was broken.
I let myself do something I never do. I let my mind wander back to those dark days in Limerick. To unlock those hidden memories that only happen in my dreams where I have no control over them.
I let myself remember the countless times I would stand naked in front of the half-length mirror that I’d begged my mom for months before she let me have it in my room.
I’d stand there studying my reflection, taking in my long, curly black hair, flat chest, and too-big eyes, concluding that Jake Tyler, the most popular kid in Thistledale Secondary School, could never notice someone like me, a scrawny thing who probably looked like his little sister and dressed like his grandma.
Although, there was nothing familial about the feelings that coursed through my body whenever he came near me.
I’d lost count of the number of times I touched myself, fighting to keep my whimpers and moans down while consumed with ecstasy, thinking of the things I wished he’d do to me. The things I’d like to do to him.
Things I hadn’t heard or seen before but instinctively knew were possible to do.
In my fantasies one day, Jake would finally approach me to ask for my tutoring help. I know his maths needs work, and being a star athlete, it's crucial for him to keep his grades up.
I wouldn't even charge him the usual fifty-cents-an-hour tutoring fee that I charged other students, something my parents must never know about. Or maybe he’d offer to pay more for my time because of how much he appreciates me. Maybe he’d even pay as high as five euros. It'd be a pittance to him, but to me, it would mean the world.
I would be turning eighteen in a few months and I was determined to leave my oppressive home and start out on my own, so I'd been saving up for months.
Da always warned me about how much I loved money.
“The allure of wealth nurtures the seeds of sin, Siobhán,” he'd say.
I didn't love money, per se. I just had a healthy respect for it. I doubted my parents realized how poor we were. We managed to eat okay, and I only got a room to myself because I was an only child and some new convert’s family hadn’t need it. Yet.
Most of my clothes came from the quarterly Harmonial gathering giveaways and charity shops. Some of them were actually decent, but being the daughter of a master, I was often last to pick. Most normal clothes were off-limits in the Sect. If it didn't look like a gunny sack or seem like it was about to fall apart, then we had better let some poorer person have it. If it accentuated the figure in any way, then it was sinful.
Which didn't help if you were trying to catch the eye of your secondary school crush. Tall and muscular, with thick, surfer hair and baby blue eyes, Jake was the star, the Fly-half of the school's rugby team.
And in a torrid, tumultuous relationship with Margo O’Hara, a girl who looked like she could have been on a runway somewhere.
I would sigh, knowing I was overreaching, but even a girl like me could dream. I had to accept, though, that contrary to the way my dreams went, Jake would never notice me.
Not unless I did something.
And so one day after school, I took a big risk and wrote Jake a letter offering tutoring, and signed my name along with the tiniest heart on the bottom, a small clue to my real feelings.
After I left the letter in his desk and went home, the enormity of what I’d done dawned on me. What if he laughed in my face? What if he showed everybody? Or, the worst outcome, if it ever got back to the Sect that I wrote a love letter to a boy?
I'd stayed up all night obsessing, regretting my decision, knowing there was no point sneaking out of the house to try and retrieve the letter because the school would be closed.
I was determined to be the first one in class the next morning so I could get the letter out before Jake or any of his friends saw it.
To my horror, the desk was empty when I got there.
I'd freaked out, finally confessing to Maeve, the only friend I was allowed to have because her parents also belonged to the Sect. We'd both crossed our fingers, praying no one saw it.
Nothing happened throughout that day, and just when I was thinking that I might have escaped an embarrassing fate, miracles of miracles, Jake Tyler approached me after school.
He was so much hotter up close, and he was nice, smiled a lot, and actually took me up on my tutoring offer. He'd suggested that we wait for half an hour after school, three days a week.
I fell in love. Even Maeve was green with envy, but she'd sworn not to say anything and to cover for me by waiting for me, so our parents truly believed we were studying.
So, three days a week, Jake and I would wait around after school. Only, we never studied. He always wanted to talk about himself, about rugby, about his family, his relationship with Margo. I couldn't even charge him. I didn't want to cheapen what I had with Jake by exchanging money.
He never once asked me about me, but I didn't mind in the slightest. There was nothing about me worth talking about anyway. Besides, with the amount of attention I was getting from those baby blues, I wouldn’t have been able to string intelligent words together.
When I did manage to say something, it was always to agree with him, validate his feelings, or praise his performance in a recent rugby match.
Of course, I attended all his games. I did all his homework and everything else he asked of me, including fading into the background when his friends came along. I didn't even mind that he kept going out with Margo. He’d already told me they didn't love each other; they only pretended to date to keep up appearances and make their families happy.
When he and Margo finally broke up shortly before debs, I couldn't believe my luck.
I wasn’t allowed to go to debs, but I knew that if Jake ever asked me, I would find a way to go.
Or die trying.
Maeve and I had talked about it at length and decided if he ever did ask me, she would have to go too, so that we would have a plausible cover story.
We'd started planning and perfecting our cover story about setting up a Harmonial youth devotion retreat. I had some money hidden away from all the tutoring, so we snuck into an 'unapproved' charity shop and got ourselves dresses, hiding them in Maeve's school locker.
All these in the event of Jake asking me to debs.
He did not in fact, ask me. He asked Fancy Richmond, another senior. I was heartbroken but said nothing at first, although it was written all over me.
When I eventually plucked up the courage to tell him how I felt, he’d laughed in my face, saying that even though he liked me and all, he had a reputation to protect. He also pointed out that being so rich and popular, there was no way I could hide going to debs with him from my parents and Sect folks.
I supposed he had a point there.
Maeve and I decided that we’d go to debs anyway, seeing as how we’d invested so much time and effort. Besides, it was the only opportunity we’d get to have a night out with our classmates since no one ever invited us to parties.
On the day of debs, which was also the day for the dummy youth retreat we convened, we'd joined the twenty other Sect kids who'd signified their interest in participating.
By nightfall, Maeve and I snuck out of the group meditation and headed back to school. It was only going to be for a couple of hours and we would slip right back in before anyone noticed we were gone.
We changed in the school bathrooms. The tight, white bandage dress accentuated my tiny waist and dark features, and I had to take my bra off since the dress was strapless.
I also took out the clips and shook out my waist-length, curly black hair, which was usually up in a bun. Maeve had taken makeup from her mom’s secret stash, which we used to imitate the other girls in school. When we were finished, I could barely recognize the girl looking back at me. I looked… almost sexy.
“Siobhán, you look amazing,” Maeve had said.
I had to nod in agreement, speechless. I ran my hands over my flat belly and over the curve of my hips and couldn't resist turning around to admire the swell of my ass. I was no Margo O'Hara, but I knew I looked very good. I hoped Jake would like it.
Jake went crazy when he saw me and immediately broke things off with Fancy, which was a dick move, but I didn't care because he was plastered to me all night. He kept trying to get me alone, saying he’d been wrong about me all that time. He no longer wanted to talk about him but was suddenly interested in me, holding my hand in public, and sharing dances with me.
I felt disbelieving and envious eyes on me all night, but I was on cloud nine. Even Maeve kept shooting me worried looks and subtly reminding me that we needed to get back before the camp noticed our absence, but I didn’t care.
I didn’t like the taste of the drink that Jake kept encouraging me to finish, but I continued taking the sips just to make him happy. Jake didn't hold back with his own drinks.
Finally, he broke. “Siobhán, sweetheart. I need to ask you something. Not here. Can we go somewhere private?” he'd begged.
Heart in my throat, I couldn’t think of anything else left to ask except for me to be his girlfriend, so I went eagerly with him. It didn’t occur to me at that point that a relationship might not even work between us, considering my background.
I wasn’t allowed to date. And intimacy of any kind before marriage was a grave transgression.
Although I noticed sniggers from his rugby friends as we left the hall, I didn’t think it was directed at us.
He took me to the backseat of his Chevrolet. There, he finally asked me to be his girlfriend. He used flowery words, telling me how much he’d come to need and love me. How he couldn't imagine life without me.
With tears of joy, I'd thrown my arms around him, only too glad to be his girlfriend.
When he started kissing me, I was over the moon.
I’d never been kissed, but always imagined my first time would be with Jake Tyler. Only, somehow, I imagined that it would be a softer melding of lips rather than a rough clash of teeth and lots of slobbering and tongue.
Pushing me roughly down, he kept whispering praises against my skin, nibbling and biting me in between words.
Desire mixed with fear. I enjoyed his touch but wished he’d just slow down a little. Instead, he'd moved faster, his hands rougher, his words got coarser, then mocking.
When he started snarling harsh, insulting words, I was confused and frightened.
And he wouldn't stop. Not even when I begged him to wait. My limbs felt useless, like jelly, and I couldn’t push him away.
He told me he was finally giving me what I’d been begging him for every day for many years.
After that, everything went dark. Try as I might, I still can't recall what exactly happened in the backseat of his Chevrolet but by morning, it became crystal clear what he'd done.
The next morning, I'd woken up to a pounding headache. Besides the too-bright morning light, the first thing I saw was my father’s disgusted and enraged face. I looked around and noticed that I was sprawled on the steps of our porch. I was half naked and barefoot, feet painful and blistered, my white dress soiled…
The vibration of my phone brings me back to the present. I drain the remaining, now-cold coffee, and I fish out my phone from my back pocket.
Blinking away the dark memories, I fan my misty eyes and check the phone screen.
It’s Sabrina.
“Hey, girl.” Her voice sounds cheery. “Where are you?”
“At work, where else?” I clear my clogged throat, so my voice doesn’t sound so hoarse.
“I know you’re at work! I’m here, too, on your floor. I just checked in your office, and you weren’t there.”
“Oh, I’m just…I’ll be right there. What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I wanted to surprise Jordan because he’s going out of town this afternoon and won't be back until Monday.”
“So, you thought you’d pull a nooner at the office. Slutty,” I tease.
“Shut up. We just had lunch,” she defends.
“Yes, well, I hope it was a satisfying one?”
“I…uh, may have eaten a bit too much.” She giggles
“Right. Excuse me while I go throw up my lunch.”
We laugh. “I’ll see you in a bit, babe,” she says before hanging up.
Sabrina and Jordan have one of the craziest schedules, but somehow, they make it a priority to get doses of each other, even if they have to schedule them.
I wonder how that would be, to be completely vulnerable to someone, laid open to their criticism, trusting them to fulfill my needs and have my back.
The thought makes me break out in a cold sweat.
Throwing the paper cup in the trash again reminds me of Ethan and this afternoon, but I push the thought from my mind. I grab a tissue and dab at my moist eyes to catch any running mascara and head out to see Sabrina.