Unraveling Selena by Marisa Maichel (black female authors TXT) 📕

this: you are disturbing everyone else.” His eyes landed on me, then trailed to my throat. He sighed. “Soren, tell me what happened. Reese, go into the house. Faolan, follow Reese.”

Faolan followed me and let himself into Father’s bedroom, where he curled up under the covers and started crying again.

I met Father in the hallway. “He needs you more than I do,” I said, walking past him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I badly wanted to talk to Sarah, but she wouldn’t speak to me. She didn’t answer my calls or texts. I felt terrible about the way I spoke to her. She didn’t deserve that. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I loved her, yet I only saw her flaws. I didn’t truly want to break up for good.

While browsing YouTube, I came across a channel called Sarah’s Stories. It was her, my girl. There were no videos yet, but there was a picture of her and a picture of her dogs, Spunk and Coffee.

When I checked the next day, there was a video up, called My Rape Story. I already knew the whole story, but I watched it anyway. It was hard to watch, and it was hard to watch her cry while she explained what happened.

“Hello, viewers,” she began. “My name is Sarah, and this is my rape story. It happened last November, almost a year ago now.” She wiped at her perfectly made-up eyes with a tissue. “It’s been a hard year. I’ve got my heart broken, my trust destroyed, and I even lost someone I loved.” I hoped that wasn’t me.

“But first, let me explain what happened that night: I went to a classmate’s party with my girls. This particular classmate is the golden boy, the most popular guy in school. I liked and trusted him, and he wasn’t the one who hurt me, but I still blame him sometimes, and I feel like a horrible person for blaming him. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t mine, either, but I still feel somehow like it was. Anyway, the girls and I went to a room to smoke cigarettes. Our head girl suggested we try weed next, and she offered me a blunt. I took it, but I didn’t want to smoke it.

“I refused and gave it back to her, and she slapped me. Then some of the other girls started fighting me and each other, and it was pure chaos for a few minutes. I went to another bedroom to relax, and that’s when it happened. Another classmate, who I won’t…oh, he’s dead anyway. Okay, Michael Nales.” She took a deep breath and wiped at her eyes again. “I was raped by Michael Nales. He wound up getting me pregnant, and I had the baby in July. Anyway, Michael was murdered a few weeks after it happened.

“I don’t know who murdered him, and I don’t think I want to know, but…I feel terrible and awful for this, but I’m glad he’s dead. I feel like he deserved to die. I know that’s horrible of me, but that’s how I feel. I’ve been told over and over again that it wasn’t my fault, but I still feel like it was. The baby himself is doing fine; I named him Cirino, which means ‘like the sun’. I’m not going to lie, I thought about abortion, but I’m glad I went through with the pregnancy. I love my son, and I’m happy that I get to see him every day. I know that a lot of people sometimes blame the baby, which isn’t fair. It’s not the baby’s fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault but his.

“Can I say that I’m happy? Well, I’m content. I’m a cheerleader, I have a great group of friends, a boyfriend who loves me, and a family who loves me. My family isn’t a typical family, but it used to be before my dad’s death. But that’s another story. Again, my name is Sarah, and I am a victim and survivor of rape.”

She ended the tape there. I sat back and thought about what she’d said. She considered my family her family. She had called me her boyfriend.

“I’m such a loser,” I said out loud.

“No, you’re not!” Father called from across the hall. I sighed. Stupid vampire hearing. There is no such thing as privacy.

I called Sarah one final time, and got an answer.

“Hello?” came my girl’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry for everything I said. You were right. I was being hostile, and unfair, and I don’t know why. I was having problems and I didn’t talk to you about them. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear. All right, I accept your apology. I’m sorry, too.”

“I saw your video.”

“Did you like it?”

“I did. You were very brave.”

“I was as scared as a cat facing a dog. No, not you, Spunk. Ouch! Down!”

“Bravery and fearlessness are not the same thing,” I said.

“That’s probably true. Anyway, I have to go to work pretty soon. Mandy’s been stressed lately because this chick who worked there for two years just quit to take an accounting job.”

“All right, I’ll let you go. I love you.”

“Thanks.” She hung up. Thanks? That was all I got?

I was sure there was a mistake. She probably got flustered or didn’t know what to say. Either way, I tried to tell myself it wasn’t a big deal, but my inner self disagreed. My clingy nature called to me to call her back and demand an explanation. My jealous and possessive nature screamed that there was another male involved. Of course, I already knew that there were three other males involved. Caden, Elliot, and Glen Crow. There was Eric Martin, a werewolf, but he left her alone after she told him that she wasn’t interested. Why didn’t she do the same thing to these guys? Of course, she’d already told Glen off several times, but the bastard just wouldn’t leave her alone.

I was pretty sure she still loved me. I hoped she did. I knew I’d screwed up again, and I had already apologized to her. I needed her. I wanted her. The thought of her hips against mine, our chests touching, my hands in her hair, her hands in mine, her green eyes looking into mine like an angel’s. My angel.

I needed to distract myself, so I focused on Selena. What was she like? What was her surname? Did she look more like Mother, or more like her father? Were her eyes blue, like Mother’s, or a different color? Was her hair long and curly, or short? Did she know about me, if she was still alive? The thought that I had a sister, one I didn’t know about….

I was not prepared for that revelation. I’d had no idea that my mother was still around a year ago, and now I had a mother. My family had gotten bigger and more loving. I was supposed to be happy. I had everything I needed and wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was something wrong with Sarah. She was losing more hair than usual, her teeth looked stained and weak, and she had lost weight. It was only a week after our talk and she was already looking different. Her thick, luscious hair was losing its shine, her curls becoming limp. She was thinner than usual, so thin that I could see her ribs through her shirt. I had noticed these things before, but not really noted them.

It all became clear when I was asked to attend a group at the Health Center for Women. Mother picked me up with Sarah in the car and drove us to the Center. She led me and a silent Sarah through a door marked Body Image and Eating Disorders. My eyes widened and I looked at Sarah, who had her head low.

Several women and girls were already seated in a circle. We took the last three chairs and faced the rest of the group. Immediately, whispers started.

“Is he her boyfriend or something?”

“Are they brother and sister?”

“All right,” piped up a curly-haired blond. “We’re all here now. Let’s start with Sarah and her family. Sarah, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“I’m Sarah,” said my girl, “And my mom who isn’t really my mom heard me throwing up, and she thought I was doing it on purpose.”

“I am Marina,” said Mother, “I am Sarah’s mother. I caught her with a toothbrush down her throat! She has been doing this in secret for weeks apparently.”

Weeks?

“I’m Reese, and I’m Sarah’s boyfriend,” I said. “This is the first I’m hearing about it. I came to support my mother and my girlfriend.”

“Can you explain your relationship a little more? I think we’re all confused,” said the blond.

“I am actually Reese’s mother,” Mother said. “I took in Sarah and her sister Sabine because their biological mother is in rehab for alcohol addiction. I love the girls like they are my own.”

“Thank you for explaining,” said the blond. “Continue.”

“I’m Tilda,” said the next girl, a heavyset girl with dark hair who wore a shirt that said Art Matters. “I’m here because I was caught smoking in the bathroom at school after I threw up in the nurse’s office. Now my parents think I’m throwing up on purpose too.”

My heart fell into my stomach. Sarah had bulimia nervosa, and I didn’t know until now. What kind of boyfriend was I? I was useless and worthless. No wonder she didn’t like me anymore. I was a selfish, stupid guy who didn’t have anything other than money and an appetite for human blood.

As it turned out, the head blond’s name was Ariel, and she was a therapist, nutritionist, and eating coach. She explained that there are several reasons why girls force themselves to throw up or starve. The need to be thin, the need to control something. Need.

As the girls and their mothers went around introducing themselves and saying why they were in the group, Sarah never looked up except to scan the room once. Her eyes fell on another girl, who I would learn also went to North Hampton High School. No doubt the truth would spread.

Sarah Cresley, the beautiful cheerleader, the Psyche of the whole school, was bulimic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The North Hampton High School Talent Show was approaching. Since it was my last year as a high school student, I decided to enter. I wrote my name on the paper containing all the names of the entrees. I didn’t know what song I would sing. I knew I wanted to sing an original song, but that was it. I’d heard that Sarah’s clique would be doing a group song. I’d heard Sarah discussing clothing choices with Mia Rayport and Angela Montgomery. I made another decision. The rule was that each person could do one by themselves, one duet, and one group audition. So, I approached Sarah in the library as she read the latest volume of Saga.

“Would you like to do a duet with me?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said. “What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know. I was going to ask you for suggestions.”

“I’ve always liked “Between the Raindrops” by Lifehouse,” she said.

“If that’s what you want, we’ll do it,” I said. “How are you feeling?” I asked, sitting down.

“Fine,” she said testily. “It was stupid. It was one time.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I warned her.

“Fine, it was more than once.” She burst into tears. “I can’t take it anymore? Ms. Kent is working us to death! She wants all of us to be the right size and have the right moves and have our hair and makeup always perfect! It’s taking all the fun out of cheering for the home team.”

“What else?” I asked.

“My job! Mandy said that I can work up to assistant manager, but only if I can work full-time, which I can’t do. I can’t work all the time. And this studying and homework is really dragging my brain down. And those guys! I don’t know how many times I have to say no!”

“Sarah, I didn’t know.