Chapter 13 - Ava
Ava
I watched Tucker in the moonlight, memorizing every part of him.
His face was tight with concentration as his hands slid over my belly.
Inside me, everything was quivering. I was nervous about this, but if he was right, at least I hadn’t forgotten any other time this had happened.
It felt so big, like giving over a part of myself.
I told him the truth on my flower, at least the truth as I knew it. My heart would remember. Even if a seizure took away my memory, it didn’t erase how I felt. There were moments that went deeper than brain cells. They infused your entire body with emotion.
Like how I knew my bedroom was mine.
And how I knew Grandma Flowers was a good person, even when my mother told me to avoid her.
My arms would know Tucker because they felt right wrapped around his body.
My lips would know because kissing him sent sparks through me that touched every layer of my skin.
And my heart would definitely know because seeing him, or hearing his voice, or even reading his words on a tiny screen made it speed up.
No matter what happened, I would know him. Always.
And some part of me would remember this night.
He watched my face. “You ready?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He shifted the mound of blankets in our way. I wasn’t sure what I wanted. To be covered up? Who was I hiding from?
I kicked the covers to push them off the end, but I forgot something critical. One of the metal knobs attached to the bottom of the bed was loose.
The blanket caught on it, then knocked it off.
The heavy metal knob landed on the floor with an unexpectedly loud thud, then rolled in circles across the uneven hardwood floor.
A door opened down the hall. “Ava?” my mother called. “Did you fall out of bed?” Her footsteps slapped down the hall.
I sat up on the bed. “Oh, no. Go, Tucker, go!”
He paused by the closet as if trying to decide if he should hide by the box again. But then he rushed to the window and lifted the pane.
“Ava?” Mother cried, fear in her voice. “Are you okay?”
The door flew open. As the overhead light illuminated the room, Tucker froze by the half-open window. He was completely naked. I clutched the pillow to my chest.
Mother’s face contorted in anger. “You. I can’t believe it.” She took him in, then me, her eyes blazing.
He snatched up a shirt to cover himself.
“You will pay for this,” she told Tucker. She picked up my pajamas from the floor and threw them at me. “Get your clothes on. I’m calling the police.”
“No, Mother,” I scrambled into my top and pants. “I love him.”
“You listen to me,” her mother hissed. “I’m here to protect you. Protect you from boys like that.”
“No,” I cried. “It’s not what you think!”
“I know exactly what this is,” she said. She grabbed my arm and dragged me across the room.
Tucker had flung on his shirt and pants. “Let her go!” He lunged for me, but Mother stood firm between us.
“I won’t give him up!” I cried. “You can’t keep me here forever!”
Mother’s grip was so tight on my arm that it hurt. “I’m calling the police. Unless you want to go to jail for rape, I suggest you get out of here right now.”
“No,” Tucker said. “I won’t leave her.”
“Your funeral.” She dragged me out into the hall.
Tucker followed. “You already tried to have her declared medically incompetent,” he said. “You’re trying to control her life!”
“Don’t talk to me about her life!” she shouted. “You haven’t been here all these years. She forgets everything. She has to start completely over. I haven’t had a day without fear for her in seventeen years!”
She opened a closet door and pulled out an old-fashioned phone with a spiral cord. She stuck the end into a jack in the wall.
I stared in astonishment. “We have a phone?”
“Of course I do.” Mother slammed her fingers on three buttons.
9-1-1. She was calling the police.
I turned as far as I could, still locked in her tight grip. “Tucker, you’ve gotta get out of here. I’ll find you again. I promise. I need you to go. I can’t live with you getting in trouble for me.”
“I don’t trust her,” he said. “I won’t leave you.”
And he didn’t. Not when Mother locked the two of us in the bathroom to wait. And not when the police came. Not until they took him away, still shouting, “I love you, Ava Roberts!”
They left him in the squad car while they took a statement from Mother. I refused to say anything other than “NO!” when she said he raped me.
When they drove off, I collapsed on the floor by the living room windows. I wanted to run away. But where could I go? What could I do?
I shouldn’t have stayed in the living room. It was a huge mistake. Mother ran inside my room and wedged something against the door so I couldn’t get in.
I could hear her opening all my drawers, moving my furniture, throwing things to the floor.
When she finally came out, the cell phone was smashed, the power cord snipped in two.
My only real link to him, to our friends. Gone.
Now I had nothing.