13. Laura
13
LAURA
W ith the exception of the last time I tutored Jason, when he whispered filthy things in my ear, he scowled at me. His scowls. His glares. All those frowns and mocking smirks.
I was used to those. He was consistent in letting me know that he loathed me.
This deep-seated hatred he didn’t mask for me tonight was something new. It was something so different and starkly malicious that I didn’t know how to regard him.
He said he wanted to make me cry. To hurt me. I didn’t doubt it. That was why I knew he’d share that video.
But I couldn’t understand why.
What was in it for him?
Why me?
The questions plagued me as I tried to summon the courage to just start this session, banking on him to not show any participation or give a damn. He showed up almost to spite me, just to prove he was here, even if he did nothing and didn’t listen to me.
But something felt different tonight, almost like he wasn’t sure how to regard me or what to do with me.
“Okay. Then, on to trig again.” I lowered my gaze and began to go over the material. Lecturing wasn’t the goal here. I was no expert in education, but tutoring wasn’t supposed to be one person talking like a mini lecture while the other sat there. It was supposed to be glorified homework help, demonstrating how to solve problems and then working on them together.
Tonight, he stared at me sullenly as I started like usual.
Every other session we’d had, he would interrupt. I knew he did it to be combative and to get a rise out of me. This time, he didn’t, and that threw me off. Maybe that was his goal, to change it up and keep me on edge, waiting for him to cut me off rudely. Just like he was keeping me waiting and on edge, wondering when he’d share that video.
But he didn’t. Not a single interruption broke the whole hour. Not a peep out of him.
I almost began to miss his trying to tease me seductively like he had last time, when I scurried out of here so turned on that my panties were wet and my nipples beaded under my bra.
All he gave me this session were angry glares as if he were concocting torture plans for me.
I wasn’t used to talking the entire time uninterrupted, and I was desperate for a drink of water. At the end of the hour, I hated how I’d fallen further into the trap of curiosity, wanting to know what his issue was.
Tired of these mind games, I sighed and straightened my papers and books.
Another hour wasted on you.
“That’s it for tonight,” I said, summing it up unnecessarily just for the sake of breaking the intense silence he gave me.
Then without a word and not losing that scowl, he got up and stalked off, leaving me there stupefied.
I narrowed my eyes, watching his back and damning him for confusing me like this. For making me care at all.
Yeah, right. If he knew I cared about him or could be worried about him like one human being was supposed to give a damn about another human being, he’d use that to his advantage.
Feeling stupid to have a big, bleeding heart even for my bully, I felt wrung-out and discarded as I headed home.
As soon as I walked instead, my fatigue from the day, from the week, didn’t disappear. Seeing Mai seated in the living room only increased my annoyance.
I wasn’t aware that she was supposed to visit this weekend, and I didn’t care that she was here now. After the last time I talked to her, I wanted nothing to do with her.
“There you are,” Mom said as she stood, frowning at me.
“Hi.” I wouldn’t stoop to be a bratty or rude person. I could say hello. As well as goodbye. Before I could make headway on reaching the stairs to hide in my room, she cleared her throat. “Laura? Mai is visiting.”
No shit, Mom. I can see. “That’s nice.”
“What’s not nice,” Mai said with a scoff as she stood, “is this.”
Holding up her phone, she broadcast more of those gross and perverted videos that people had made of me. It had to be Jason’s frat brothers’ doing. And again, it irked me.
Why?
Why me?
Why choose me to torment?
“This is absolutely disgusting, Laura,” Mom said with a sneer.
“Wait.” I narrowed my eyes. “Do you think I actually did the stuff in those videos?” I asked incredulously.
“They had to have come from somewhere,” she said, the disgust clear in her tone.
“Are you kidding me?” I gaped at her, then Mai.
“I agree with her,” my sister said, crossing her arms. “Someone had to have had the inspiration and material to post this inappropriate drivel.”
I stormed closer, tempted to lose my thinly held cool, snatch her phone, and throw it against the wall. “When would I have time to lead a double life of a whore?” I laughed once, hysterical. “I go to class. I study. I live here . I have no life to even attempt to pull off any of that stuff.”
Mom glanced at Mai, like seeking help or patience with me and I was too much to deal with.
“And I told you,” I reminded Mai. “When you called me, I told you about this crap that’s being shared about me. A student I’m tutoring is being a total jerk—for no freaking reason—and he and his friends are targeting me.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Oh, so none of this is true?” She sighed. “I have a hard time believing that.”
I laughed again, stunned. I couldn’t understand when she’d think it was possible that I’d ever be having a threesome with strangers with their faces blurred out, all while chugging beer from a bong on top of a pool table. Did she really never notice me? To the point she could be persuaded to think that I did this stuff and wasn’t home all the time?
Not only that, but I’d never, ever given anyone the idea that I was into kinky crap like that. That was why I figured Jason accused me of being a prude. I had no life. I had no love life. I didn’t date or party or approach guys.
“I… I don’t even know what to say.” I set my hands on my hair, almost pushed to pull it out.
Embarrassment lit within me, making me feel warmer than I should.
“How about sorry?” Mai said, haughty. “ We all have to face this judgment now too.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry ,” I drawled sarcastically. “I’m sorry you can’t see that I’m a victim. That I’ve done nothing to deserve this. I’m so sorry that you can’t lower yourself from your pedestal to consider that I could use love or support during this bullying.”
“Don’t play the victim,” she coached snidely.
“You have no idea what this is like!” I was almost to the point of raising my voice when I really just wanted to scream.
“And it seems to me,” she replied coolly, “that you have no idea what it means to have grace.”
Mom nodded, smiling with approval at her.
“Good girls don’t go viral online with this stuff. And it would serve you well to remember to be graceful and?—”
I growled, so close to reaching out and pushing her that I could barely think straight.
I stormed off instead, so sick of her talking down to me.
Without a destination in mind, I got back in my car and drove around, cruising and waiting for the adrenaline rush of talking back to fade.
I never did that.
I always talked myself out of standing up for myself or correcting anyone. It was the same mentality that I had when I was bullied at school. Or when my parents compared me to Mai. All of it. In a lifetime of being a pushover and disregarded as the second-best, I chose to tuck my head down and wait out the hard times.
But tonight, I’d reached a tipping point. I just couldn’t stand it. Wishing with all my heart, I dreamed of not being so stuck and trapped and drowning under the impossible pressure to meet others’ expectations.
There was never a break, never a change from the burden of trying to be perfect just so someone could fucking love me.
Other than Kristin, I'd failed everyone.
“What kind of a life is this?” I whispered aloud.
I wasn’t living.
I was drowning.
I was treading in murky water with nowhere to go.
Without realizing where I was headed, I blinked at the familiar scenery of the campus. I drove further out until I wound up near the frat row, where the big, old houses were decorated with their insignia. All of them were lit up and crowded. Music boomed from the frat houses and sororities. People spilled out on the lawns, drinking and dancing.
I slowed at the curb of the biggest house, the fraternity where Jason was the president. He had to be in there, living it up and enjoying his life.
Staring at the building, I considered how I’d never been to any such party. Always the good girl, always obedient, always seeking approval from hard-to-please parents.
Watching the people heading in and out, all of them looking so carefree and not oppressed with fitting in or doing what was right, I scolded myself for wondering what it was like in there.
If the second you walked inside, no worries remained.
That surrounded by peers, it could be possible to just ease in and join in the fun for once.
Shaking my head, I huffed a dark laugh.
Forget it.
I scolded myself for even faintly wishing I could be brave enough to try out what a party was like.
All this time I was idling here at the curb was time wasted that I could’ve been studying instead.
Now that I’d cooled down from my mother and my sister judging me, I felt centered and square again.
The only thing I had to focus on was getting out of here. One day, I would. I’d graduate and go to med school. That wasn’t the career I felt passionate about, but I saw it as the ticket out of here that it would be. It’d be the event that could get me out of my parents’ house.
They’d still control me. That would never end.
But at least I’d have distance. I could worry less about being second-best.
Striking out on my own was the “party” I had to look forward to.
Because no matter how much I wished someone could approve of me, I smirked at the dumb idea that I’d find any approval at a party like that. I already knew what those frat boys said about me.
And there wasn’t a chance in hell I would ever have enough time, patience, or care to work on getting them to change their minds.
What you see is what you get.
If the whole world wanted to label me as second-best, then that was their loss.
Right?
I cringed, wishing I could believe it and feel an ounce of self-worth against all that I faced.