Ch 35

The next day, I am back at school with a closely cropped boy cut and a steely resolve. I am not going to make myself a victim. I spoke with Dr. Minders for two hours yesterday, Ian waiting for me the whole time, then we went to the salon. I am going to succeed despite what happened to me. When I got home, my mom actually cried when she saw me. It turns out that she's been going to counselling of her own and has started on anti-depressants. We talked, actually talked, and it was good. I know I'm still not better, by any stretch, but I'll be damned if I'm giving up.

"Grace, that hair is an interesting statement." Kyle gives me a funny look, "Now you're an angel undercover. Like a covert angel, the James Bond of angels."

I know Kyle is trying to make me feel better, so I laugh, "Thanks Kyle, I think covert angels are like Charlie's Angels or something, but I know it's not great."

"No, Grace, it is, mostly because it's not my fault this time." And we both laugh.

There are whisperings in the hall, but I ignore it. People thought I was reserved before, but they were wrong. I was shy. Now I'm just pissed, but it's a good angry because I use it to fuel my need to succeed. I plow through course material like the honours student I was, and Mrs. Simpson is really pleased by my progress.

"Mr. Karst, I think I need to straighten out my schedule for second semester." I inform him a week before Christmas Break.

"Grace, you're looking a lot better," he says, smiling. "No phalanx of guys today?"

"No, I've given the guards the slip," I joke. "I have to be able to walk around for myself. It's not fair for them to distract from their schooling. After all Chris, Ian and Kyle are graduating this year, and Ian needs all the time in class he can get." Chad is graduating, too, so next year at least I won't have to worry about running into him.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. The court date isn't until the late spring, so ask me how I'm doing then."

"What would you like to fix on your schedule?" Mr. Karst and I get down to business. I want to make sure I have math in class next semester rather than night or summer school because it is my weakest subject and being in class, everyday is the best way for me to do it. Mr. Karst is happy that I have thought ahead and makes the changes without any problems. I am pleased that I've taken another step towards fixing everything I've made a mess of.

Christmas comes quickly and I am barely prepared. I still have a hard time in crowds because I don't like to be touched, so I order all my presents on-line. Elizabeth calls to invite me to celebrate with Xavier, my father and her, for Christmas Eve, and I agree. Dr. Minders thinks it's important for me, and I really do want to be a part of my baby brother's life. For Christmas Day this year Andrea invites my mom to join us next door, and I am thrilled. I was really worried that, since she's doing better, I wouldn't be able to spend time with Maggie.

Christmas Eve is scary. I haven't seen my father in over two months and he hasn't called. When I arrive at their apartment, Elizabeth is the one to open the door, and Xavier is sleeping in a baby chair, looking adorable.

"Grace, what happened to your hair?" she exclaims quietly.

I spend the next hour talking to her and explaining everything that happened.

"Oh, honey, I can't imagine how bad things have been, but I have to say, you look a lot healthier than last time I saw you."

"Elizabeth, where's my dad?"

"He's just working, you know, there isn't a lot of space for him here."

"Just keep an eye on him. You should know better than anyone, he's not the most loyal partner. I don't remember the last time he spent Christmas with us. Actually, I do, it was in Austria, but aside from that, most years he just wasn't around."

"If he leaves me, he leaves me. I'm not his keeper, I have the best gift anyone could ever give me with Xavier." I am surprised by her cavalier attitude towards her relationship with my dad, but it's also kind of nice that she's harbouring no illusions. "I had no idea when I got involved with your dad that you and your mom even existed. I mean he was always at school or able to drop by my apartment. Last Christmas he actually stayed with me for a week and met my parents."

"He told me he was at a conference. I had to take care of my mom the whole time. I had to get neighbours to take me grocery shopping because I couldn't drive and there wasn't anything in the house."

"I'm so sorry Grace, I really had no idea."

"I'm sorry, too, Elizabeth. I shouldn't complain to you, it's not your fault."

She and I spend a pleasant evening together and my dad finally arrives, four hours late, just as I am getting ready to leave. He doesn't really say anything to me, except to comment on my hair. I leave presents for them under their tree, and Elizabeth gives me a gift certificate for the mall. I cry on the drive home, mostly for the fact that I mourn the loss of who I thought my father was, and who he really is. He is so incredibly self-centred. He has the opportunity to start all over and raise a child with a partner who seems to be really stable, but he's messing up with this family already. Xavier's barely two months old and he's already stepping away from him. It's disgusting considering how long he and my mother tried for another child, but I think he can't handle sharing the attention. Adoration of students, who think he's really smart feeds his ego. The only reason why he was in my life so long was because I adored him and was willing to overlook so many of his shortcomings.

Christmas day is a crisp cold morning, the sun melt rising over the frosted tips of grass, making them glimmer. It's so bright it hurts my eyes, but it's completely gorgeous and still outside. Throwing on some clothes, a jacket and boots, I decide to go for a walk in the forest. My breath swirls around me and I flip up the hood of my coat because the air is frigid on my bare neck. The sunlight streams through the branches hitting patches of the trodden path until I break through to my meadow. Half of the grass has the frost melted away and the other half is still frozen in the shade. It is so quiet, that the sound of my own breathing is deafening. Perching on the cold rock wall, I take my iPod out of my pocket and slip in the earbuds, listening to an acoustic album and inhaling deeply. I am trying focused meditation, practicing the relaxation exercises that Dr. Minders is teaching me. My eyes are closed and I put all my attention into breathing deeply when I feel a hand on my shoulder. My whole body stiffens in fear and I feel like I'm going to vomit, my stomach twisting, throat tightening. I start to shake. The hand drops in an instant like it's burned, but it's too late. Earbuds are wrenched from my ears.

"Oh my god, Grace, I am so sorry." I can hear his voice, but my eyes are stuck shut and I am in a dark place.

"Gracie, come back please. Take some deep breaths. Oh fuck, I am so sorry. I didn't even think, I tried calling out but you couldn't hear me. Please Gracie. You're so strong, you can do this." Ian is pleading with me, and I try to focus on his voice, his comforting voice. I begin to try and slow my breathing and quell the panic. My shaking starts to subside and I force my eyes to open.

Ian is crouched in front of me worry and fear on his face. "I'm sorry, Ian," I whisper.

"No Grace, it's my fault, I just forgot."

"It's not your fault, Ian, you didn't get into that car, I did."

"Yes, you did, but what happened wasn't your fault. Stop blaming yourself."

"How can I stop blaming myself? I was drunk and stupid and all I want is to be held, but the thought of anyone touching me makes me scream in fear. How can I live like this?"

"Grace, you are so strong, you're a survivor and you can heal. You are healing. It's only been a little while and each day gets better."

I close my eyes and focus on his words and I start to calm down. "Thank you, Ian. Thank you for everything. What are you doing here, anyway?"

Ian gestures to his sketchbook and charcoal and a blanket, "I came to draw."

"Won't you get cold?"

"Yes, after a little while. Do you want to draw with me?" Waves of nostalgia roll over me. It's like when we were little and the idea is so relaxing I agree immediately.

We lay side by side, not quite touching, each drawing on an empty page, the dark charcoal making broad strokes on the creamy paper. I can feel the proximity of him and it's like he's calling to me. I struggle to keep my hand steady as I draw because I know as much as I want to touch him, I can't. His touch caused the bile to rise in my stomach and the thought of kissing is just too terrifying. Besides, it's Ian, I can't think he'd want to kiss me. Instead I roll to my side, sketch forgotten, and just watch him lose himself in the paper. And his drawing is good, fantastic even.

"Ian, that's amazing," I am in awe of his talent. He's drawn the drops of melted frost on the tips of the grass. The darkness of the charcoal is muted by his light touch and the shading gives his pictures depth and dimension.

"I'm glad you like it, but it's not that great. I'm getting cold, so my hands are cramping up," Ian responds, glancing at his picture. "We should probably go in, you're shivering."

"So are you," I smile, standing up.

"I hadn't noticed." Ian gives me a wistful look, hands me his book and charcoal while he shakes out the blanket. We walk back to the start of the path together, quietly lost in thought. When I get to my back door, I turn and look. Ian is watching me, just like I was turning to watch him. He raises his hand in a wave and I smile back, going inside.

My mother is in the kitchen, making breakfast, unusual, since I have been making breakfast on Christmas for years.

"What were you doing out there, Grace?"

"Nothing. I just went for a walk."

"Grace, I saw you with one of them. Chris? Ian? He had a blanket." She says in an accusatory tone.

"It was Ian, nothing happened, and Chris is gay, so nothing could ever happen there. I went for a walk. He was out drawing," I say flatly.

"You've already gotten yourself in trouble with a boy, Grace, maybe you should be more careful. I've always thought you're too familiar with those boys next door."

"Mother, I almost vomit if anyone touches me. I curl into a ball and shake. Even if I wanted something to happen with a boy, any boy, I couldn't. And I resent the implication that I asked to be assaulted."

"I just don't want you to put yourself in any bad situations."

"You could have fooled me. Last year I had to beg rides from people to get home from work because no one here could drive me and you tried to buy me alcohol last New Years." I don't want to hurt her, it's too easy, but she's making me too angry. Her face falls like I've slapped her.

"Oh Grace, I'm so sorry. You're right, I've been a terrible mother and I don't know how to do this." She reaches out to touch me and I shy away from her.

"I know you're trying, I know you are, please don't touch me, I can't take it," I tell her. "Don't think I haven't noticed and that I'm not appreciative, I am. But you have to trust me. I made a big mistake and I'm paying for it, but being friends with Chris and Ian isn't a mistake. They are like family and have saved me countless times. To be anything less than grateful for them is terrible."

"You're right, Grace. I just, well, I feel so alone sometimes."

"Me to, Mommy, me too."

A few hours later, my mother and I walk next door into the warm atmosphere of the house next door. Maggie and Marc are sitting on the couch and I introduce my mother to him, then place our presents under the tree. I duck into the kitchen to check on Andrea and Steve, catching them sneaking a bite of food.

"Hi Grace! Merry Christmas! I'm so glad you're here," Andrea quickly finishes the mashed potatoes in her mouth.

"Thank you so much for having me and my mom."

"It wouldn't be Christmas without you, honey," Steve says.

"It's about time for presents, could you run and get the boys? I think they're up in Ian's room."

"Sure."

I dash up the stairs and can hear them talking, "You should have seen her, Chris, she nearly jumped out of her skin."

"You need to give her time."

"I just wish I could tell her..."

"Now isn't the time, Ian, she's in no state for..." I don't wait to hear what I'm in the state for, so I knock on the door. Loudly.

"Hi Grace." Chris opens the and Ian quickly looks away, his cheeks red.

"Time for presents!" I say with false cheer, trying to pretend I wasn't listening.

In the living room, we all sit around the tree, except this year I sit on a floor pillow, rather than on the couch between the twins. The presents are handed around and for the next little while paper falls like snow, littering the floor. Steve and Andrea, never leaving anyone out, have given my mother a gift certificate for a manicure, and I can tell she's really touched. I got Chris a messenger bag that's similar to one he's had his eye on. I think it will look really good on him. After last year's apparent success with the drawing supplies, I went the same way, but this year I got Ian some special ink pens similar to what cartoonists and commercial artists use. They were really expensive, but I can't think of any other way to show my thanks for everything he's done for me.

"Oh Grace, these are fantastic!" Ian enthuses, his eyes all lit up, opening the set. "Look, different nib sizes and the whole line of colours. These are perfect!"

"I guess you really started something last year with those charcoals, huh?" Maggie says with a smile. I shrug, embarrassed, but inwardly I am totally thrilled.

Chris is equally pleased with his messenger bag and I am so glad. I was worried he'd be upset that it wasn't something as personal as what I got for Ian.

Chris and Ian are standing in front of me and hand me a package, they look nervous. "We got you this together and hope that you don't take it the wrong way. We just want to keep you safe," Ian explains.

I take the box from them and pull off the ribbon. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper is a gift certificate for a self-defense course. I laugh, "Is this a clue that you guys don't want to be my bodyguards anymore? Because you do an amazing job."

"No, not at all, we just want to know that if someone does bother you, you can defend yourself. Honestly, it's more for our piece of mind," Chris answers.

"It's great," my mom is grinning, "what a fantastic present."

Dinner is great, everyone sitting around the table. Chris stands, "Excuse me, I have an announcement to make..."

"Chris, we already know you're gay, no one cares," Maggie jokes.

"No, not that, I just wanted to let everyone know I got early acceptance into Pre-Med at Western!"

"Oh, Chris, congratulations, that's fantastic, Honey!" Andrea gushes giving him a big hug and Steve pats him on the back, "So amazing, Chris, way to go."

As much as I am happy for him, I am also terribly upset, heartbroken. Chris leaving is happening, I knew it, I've known it for ages, but I can't imagine him being gone. I look over to Ian, and I can see that he feels kind of the same way. I give him a smile, trying to tell him that everything is going to be okay, but I don't think I can make this better. I don't want to cause a scene, especially since his leaving is months away, so I give him a big smile and offer congratulations.

"Not trying to steal your thunder, but you'll be close to us, Uncle Chris," Maggie announces, hand on her stomach.

"Really!" Andrea's excitement is palpable, looking back and forth between Maggie and Marc. "When?"

"Late June," Marc says proudly, his arm around Maggie.

"That's awesome, guys," Ian is smiling, but it doesn't quite meet his eyes, which are guarded. I'm not sure if anyone else notices because the attention is all on Maggie, as it should be, but I can tell Ian is hurting. Everything is changing again, but his future is completely uncertain.

Dessert is eaten and the big events are toasted with a bottle of champagne that Marc brings out, and I am grateful for every person at the table. "I just wanted to say cheers and thanks to everyone here. Andrea and Steve for being so welcoming and caring, Maggie and Marc for being the best big sister and brother-in-law, Ian and Chris for being my best friends, and my mom for being here."

"No, thank you, Grace. We love you, too," Maggie says, raising her glass of apple juice, "Cheers," and we all take a little drink.

After things are cleared away, Maggie goes for a nap. My mom, Andrea, Marc and Steve sit at the table talking and having coffee. Chris goes down to watch a movie, and Ian goes up to his room. I try to decide what to do before I follow my instincts and slowly walk up stairs. Tapping lightly on his door, it swings open. Ian is sitting at his desk, staring off into space.

"Ian?" I step into the room, "Are you okay?"

"No, Grace, I'm not," his sadness fills the room. I want to go to him, to hold him, instead I sit on the edge of his bed. "Everything is going to be different. Everything already is different. Maggie's going to be a mom, Chris is leaving, school is going to end and I'm not ever sure I'll be able to go anywhere. I've spent so long being a complete fuck up and now it's coming back to bite me in the ass."

"But you aren't like that at all. You aren't like Chris, but that's because you're you. You're strong and fierce and full of emotion, impetuous and caring, artistic and creative. You feel things so deeply. Chris is more muted, more temperate, more logical, good and cautious, but that doesn't make him better than you, just different," I tell him.

"It's amazing that you think of me like that, but not very realistic." Ian says ruefully.

"What do you think I should see?"

"I don't know, how about the guy who's gone through about twenty-five girls in the past three years, and tossed away your friendship because I was angry. Selfish and angry."

I'm surprised he's being this honest. "Did you mean to hurt me?" I ask, softly.

"I don't know. Maybe. Yes," he admits, his hands covering his face. "I'm not proud of myself. I was so angry that you left and then Dad moved away. I needed you, you were, are, the only person who gets me, but I was so very selfish. How could I blame you when you had no choice about leaving?"

"I don't know, but you know I would have stayed if I could, right?"

"Of course, Grace. It's taking all of my self control to not go out there and punch your mother. From the time you were little, the things your parents did to you—continue to do to you. I mean have you seen your father at all?"

"No, not since before the baby, and I used to think he was the good parent," I grimly say.

"What happened to you Grace? I mean last year you were dealing with everything okay, you seemed fine until the end of the summer."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"No one cared," I shrug. "I did better in my classes than ever, I did volunteer work, won awards, no one cared. Chris was away, my dad only had me over because he was forced to and I had to sleep on a pullout couch in the nursery. My mom never left her bed, and you...you not only ignored me, you dated Audra—chose her, you had parties here while I watched from my window." Even though I can see Ian flinch, the cruel, deep ache of last summer comes back to me and I am having a hard time breathing, the anger building in me. "I just didn't want to feel anything anymore, and weed and drinking helped. I spent days stoned or drunk and no one noticed or cared."

"Oh Gracie, that's not true." He can protest all he wants, but he knows I'm right.

"Yes it is, Ian. You two never tried to stop me, my parents didn't care. Aside from Owen, the only guy who ever showed any interest in me is Kyle, and it's been made crystal clear to me that nothing can ever happen between us—not that I want it to. But some point, all that neglect and rejection gets to be too much. I wanted to destroy myself, I hated myself, just like everyone else hated me. So yes, I made out with Chad at that party, and I let him drive me home. I had no ride, so why not let Chad drive me? He couldn't be that bad, he was friends with you." Ian's eyes open wide at that comment and I can see I've wounded him. Making him more than an innocent bystander, somewhat complicit in my destruction. "I had already changed my mind before getting into the car with him, but what other choice did I have? Chris had written me off because my self-destructive ways didn't fit with his goal of getting out of here, my parents wouldn't come—if they even bothered to answer the phone, and I couldn't call you."

"Oh my God, Grace. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Ian is stricken.

"No Ian, I don't be. You aren't responsible for me. I'm a big girl and I can screw up all on my own. And I've screwed up. I didn't like myself when I was screwing up and I know I can be better. Thanks to you and Chris and Kyle, I think I've made it through the worst of it. I'll take the self-defence classes and I'll learn how to kick a little ass. I'll do night school and summer school and I'll graduate with my class next year. Chris will be gone—away at school, Maggie will have her own family, my dad will be busy screwing up his new family, and you will move on to something bigger than these four walls. Eventually I'll be okay with being touched again, and someday someone might want to touch me and I'll want to touch them back. Change is coming, and I am going to meet it head on and so are you."

It's a good speech and maybe someday I'll believe it, but for today, it's what I need to say. I need Ian to know that I can be okay without him and that he can move on, too.

"Grace, I..."

"Don't say anything else, Ian. Just let it be. Take your emotions and empty them on the page. Don't let your fear and anger ruin what you've done this year. You're doing so well, and I know you can do whatever you want. I'm so proud of you and I know everyone else is too." I can't stay in this room anymore. It's too close and there's too much history here. I love Ian with every fibre of my being and I know, deep down he loves me too, but if him touching me, like this morning, makes me ill, then I can't be near him. He needs to find someone to make him happy.