7. Radley

SEVEN

RADLEY

"How's this week been for you, Radley?"

I shuffled around in my chair, trying and failing to get comfortable.

This happened last time.

The problem was the screen on my desk – it was so large that it felt like Doctor Jessops was in the room with me, but twice as big as she normally was, her blue eyes bluer as she peered down the camera, more earnest than usual.

I kind of wished I was back in her office with the large woven basket by the chair I always sat in, filled with beads, stress balls, blankets, and huge pillows – the type people clasped to their chest and cried into.

I should have set it up better. I'd do it now, but she'd only call it out as an avoidance technique while she waited in silence – that really annoying silence that increased the pressure until I gave her an answer she was looking for. I wondered if I could use the entire hour to shuffle furniture.

I stopped wriggling and hugged my knees to my chest instead.

"It was okay."

"Just okay?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

Doctor Jessops' eyebrows rose slightly over the thick black rims of her glasses. "How are you coping with the fraternity activities?"

I shrugged, something I did a lot of in these sessions. "A few frat boys found themselves at the Secret Service H.Q., but mostly it's been manageable. It'll be over soon, right?"

Rhetorical questions – also a habit of mine.

"Okay, have you been able to put what we talked about last week into practice?"

From the corner of my eye, I saw a dust bunny on the floor and stared at it. I'd been dreading this session because I already knew how it would go. She'd asked me – as she just had – how I was working toward creating as normal a life for myself as I could; building friendships, and exploring what it meant to be a student. Last week she'd set me the task of meeting someone new, and making a friend.

I had. I'd done both those things.

Neither had been intentional, but they'd been done. Twice if you counted that girl, Delaney, from the Shakespeare class.

I counted it.

The one I didn't want to count was Lux Weston, because… well… it was… or rather it wasn't a good idea.

"Radley, did you meet anyone new this week? "

I nodded, silently.

"You did. That's excellent, well done! And how do you feel?"

I shrugged. That was a complicated question.

Sick, probably summed it up most succinctly.

"Okay," I replied instead.

"Was this a student in your class?"

I shook my head again, once more picturing Lux's face when we'd been standing at the bar and I'd asked him if he was a student. It was the memory I'd found myself going back to; the way his hazel eyes widened as he blinked in shock, and his full pouty mouth parted, causing the Cupid's arrow on his top lip to deepen. Then there was the way his head tilted to the left ever so slightly so the curve of his cheekbone had caught the light.

I wish I could stop thinking about his mouth. I wish I could stop thinking about him , because every time I did, my entire body clenched tight and heat flickered deep in my core.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?"

I placed my feet flat on the floor, tucked my hands underneath me, and took a deep breath. My teeth sank into my bottom lip as I peered up at the screen.

"It wasn't a student. It was a guy."

Since I'd been seeing Doctor Jessops, I'd come to know her expressions well. There was the sad face – the one she pulled whenever I sobbed my way through a session, pointing to the ever-present box of tissues on the end table next to me. There was the proud face, accompanied by her gentle nod. The surprised face, whenever I'd done something unexpected, and her encouraging face, when she wanted me to keep talking.

Or the one she was wearing now – one I'm not sure I'd ever seen – because her eyes were so wide, I thought they might pop out of the sockets any second.

"Oh…" she replied after she'd recovered herself. "A guy, as in…"

I waited like she always did, as she found the word.

"… a guy you had an attraction to?"

I nodded, letting out a little sigh. An attraction? Yeah, that's what we could call it.

Attraction would explain why my mind flitted to him every ninety seconds whether I wanted it to or not. Yeah. Lux Weston was all kinds of attractive.

Hot. Smoking. Fantasy inducing.

The whole package.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

She sat back in her chair. From the way she shifted, I knew she'd crossed her legs and put her notepad down. It was a move I'd become so familiar with when I used to see her in person.

She was preparing to set herself in for the long haul.

I'd been seeing Doctor Jessops since I was fourteen, when life as the youngest daughter of a senator and the deputy director of the C.I.A. became a lot. Too much, almost.

I had two highly driven parents, two competitive older brothers, both of whom were top of their classes and heading to Princeton and Yale, who made everything they did seem so easy.

And then there was me.

I didn't want to go into politics or public service, or law school. Who could blame me when all I'd known was how stressful it was, how much time it took you away from your family? I'd wanted to stay home and read, or hang out with my friends and go to the movies. I wanted to date a boy.

I still wanted to do those things.

But back then, I couldn't articulate it without feeling like a total failure, so I never bothered trying. I couldn't bear the thought of disappointing my parents when all they talked about was how proud they were of my brothers.

Doctor Jessops helped me climb out of the hole I'd dug for myself. She helped me communicate what I wanted, and taught me how to speak up; something – to my surprise – my parents fully supported. Slowly, I started enjoying life. I went to the movies with my friends, I stayed home and hung out with my family. I made the track team at school, and took my golden retriever, Mr. Snuggles, on long runs. I read every book I could. I studied hard because I'd decided I wanted to major in English literature at Georgetown.

And I briefly dated a boy.

At the time, my mom was Senator for Pennsylvania, though behind the scenes she was preparing herself for the run to become the presidential nominee for the next election. My dad was working on something that kept him from home, and my brothers were away at school.

I was falling in love… or I thought I was.

I'd met him one afternoon when Millie and I had looked around Georgetown; he'd been assigned to guide us on a tour. He was funny, smart, and oh so good-looking. We laughed along as he showed us around the campus, and even though there were fifteen potential other students with us, it was like he was talking to me, and me alone.

At the end of the tour he'd asked for my number, and I was only too happy to give it to him.

Our dates started small; a walk along the Potomac here, a burger in a cute Georgetown diner there. He'd kiss me and tell me how he couldn't wait for me to attend Georgetown so we could be together. It didn't take me long to know I wanted to lose my virginity to him.

A couple of weeks later, it happened.

Looking back, I should have read the signs. I should have noticed the bright red flags being waved at me from every direction; the busy excuses when I asked to meet his friends; the insistence that I never come to campus or his dorm; the cheap hotel room with a crappy bed and barely put together furniture.

It was over in a matter of minutes; missing the hearts and rainbows everyone talked about. In fact, it had been kind of painful, mostly uncomfortable, and entirely unsettling. Instead of feeling all warm and glowy, a ball of anxiety quickly burned acid through my stomach.

He never commented on the cute underwear I'd spent hours searching for and bought especially for the occasion. He never told me I was beautiful. And the second it was over, he jumped out of bed to get dressed. He left me at the entrance of the hotel, with a quick peck on the cheek and told me he had to rush to class. Confusion overwhelmed me, and he'd already turned the corner before I realized that was a lie.

It had been a Saturday afternoon, there were no classes.

I managed to hold it together long enough to find Millie before I totally crumbled. There was nothing she could say to console me. She didn't need to tell me I'd never hear from him again. I already knew.

My heart shattered into smithereens.

I saw Doctor Jessops three times a week for the month after that. My parents didn't know how to make it better. My dad was apoplectic his little girl was so broken, and my brothers swore revenge .

But everyone got their heart broken by a guy, right?

Gradually I felt better, everyone continued to live their lives, and we went back to normal. I hung out with my friends, we went on a family vacation to Martha's Vineyard, and caught as many Phillies home games as we could.

But then my mom became the presidential nominee.

A month later, the photos began to make the rounds. Photos I didn't give permission for, and a video I didn't know had been recorded. The most private, intimate moment of my life released for the world to see by someone I had trusted.

Grainy images of me wearing the cute underwear with the little blue hearts I'd bought especially for him were on the internet just long enough for everyone to see before my dad had every computer hacker employed by the C.I.A. find them, and destroy them.

But it was too late. My mom's political enemies had seen them and rubbed their hands with glee.

Media outlets called me a slut, and my mom a terrible parent. Sunday morning political shows debated on how she would ever be able to run a country when she couldn't even control her own kids.

Up until then, even at my lowest point when I couldn't figure out my life and feared I'd never live up to the legacy of my family, I'd never wanted to die. I'd just wanted to disappear. But that day, the day those pictures flooded the internet and I had to relive the worst day of my life, the day my broken heart resurfaced and I realized how badly I'd screwed up by putting my trust into someone else, was the day I wanted my life to be over.

Like they sensed it, I was never left alone; my parents, my brothers, Millie… someone was always with me. Even Mr. Snuggles stayed glued to my side. I drifted through my da ys until my medication kicked in, and I started to feel a little less like I was pushing my way through a thick, sticky thundercloud.

I started to feel like perhaps I was salvageable.

Eighteen months ago, my life spun out of control, and ever since then I've worked to claw back a semblance of the life I once had.

Saying it's hard doesn't do it justice. Some days it feels impossible.

He is why I have extra protective detail, because my terrified parents want to keep me safe. He is why I'm at Columbia instead of Georgetown. He is why I'm still in weekly therapy sessions where my doctor gives me homework that involves the most basic of human instincts – talking to people.

And he is why I still haven't replied to the text message Lux Weston sent me.

"Radley how did you meet him?" she repeated.

"I was in a bookstore, and he helped me take a book from the shelf."

"And you talked to him?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Radley…" She stopped as I held my hand up to her.

"I didn't, but then I saw him later in a bar near campus, and he came and talked to me."

I stopped again, and I could tell she was itching to say something because I didn't go to bars, and everything about this conversation was entirely out of character for me. She stayed quiet though.

"He wanted my number."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Panicked. Millie had gone to the bathroom, and I was on my own. Well… I mean as much as I'm ever on my own. Meg and Ava were at the other end of the bar, and Jake and Ethan were nearby."

"Did you ask him to leave you alone?"

It was one of the things I'd practiced with her; when someone got into my space uninvited, I should ask them to leave me alone. I rarely got the opportunity however, as either Millie or one of the agents got there first.

I shook my head. "He took me by surprise, as I recognized him from the bookstore. I was going to ask him to leave, but then a couple of frat guys arrived. He made them leave when they tried to take a picture of me."

I looked up at her and smiled to find her nodding.

"Then what happened?"

"Millie came back and told him to leave."

"Ah. So, he didn't get your number?"

I continued talking like she hadn't said a word. "I didn't want to be in there any longer. We'd gone to play pool and it had gotten really busy. We were on our way back to the dorm when something happened."

I stopped talking and took a deep breath.

"Did you go back to the dorm?"

"No…" I raised my head to the screen to see Doctor Jessops shuffle and cross her legs as she moved closer. I'd always been good at telling a story. "I was so pissed that these guys had ruined my first few weeks of college, and almost ruined my evening, like they couldn't give a shit about anything except their stupid photos. Couldn't give a shit about me."

My fists clenched, and I rammed them between my legs before my entire body shook, and even without looking at her, I knew Doctor Jessops' thick, dark eyebrows would have risen over the frame of her glasses again.

I didn't get angry.

I got sad and retreated.

I went out of my way to make everyone's lives easier, because I'd once made them so hard. I stayed in and lived my life through books and boxsets, but I didn't get angry. Not at him , not at the frat boys, not at my parents for curbing my university experience with extra security.

But I'd been angry two nights ago.

"When I found Jake, he was with Ethan and Ava, and they were standing over four guys on the ground. I wanted to yell at them, but as I got nearer, I realized it wasn't frat boys – it was the guy from earlier, and he was with his friends. They'd seen Jake following Millie and me, and thought he was a creeper. They tried to stop him."

The absurdity of the situation hit me again, and I started to giggle. Loudly. Soon I couldn't stop. The giggles turned into the type of laugh that originates deep in your belly, in the marrow of your bones. In your soul. The type of laugh where you genuinely worry if your sides are splitting because you've got no idea how your body is still intact from the shaking.

Each laugh burst out of me like a prisoner making a break for freedom, until my cheeks were not only sore, but wet with the tears pouring down them.

It was as though a ten-ton truck had driven off my chest.

Even the usually impassive Doctor Jessops was laughing. "Well, I'm sure that's never happened to Special Agent Riley before."

"Nope," I replied as I swiped the back of my hand over my eyes.

"It's good to hear you laughing, Radley. It's been a while." She smiled at me, wide and genuine, like we'd had some kind of breakthrough. Perhaps we had. "Back to this mystery man who wanted your number… he'd taken on four Secret Service agents because he thought you were in danger."

"Yeahhhh," I nodded, and pulled on the hair tie wrapped around my wrist. It snapped back with a sting. "I gave him my number. So dumb."

I looked up when Doctor Jessops stayed silent. She was wearing a small frown, the one which appeared whenever I said something she didn't like. On her shelf behind her, I could see the 3D brain she kept, mapped out into colored sections. I always imagined it as mine; where my frontal cortex flashed like a highway sign, refusing to leave me in peace.

"Hold on, Radley, let's back up a minute. Last session we talked about how you were going to go about living what you called a ‘normal' college life," she added her customary air quotes because she had a visceral hatred for the word normal , "and today everything you've told me about your week said you've done exactly that. You've met new people, you went to a bar, and you met a guy. Why are you saying this is dumb? Did you hear from him already?"

"Yeah," I sighed, heavily.

"And how does that make you feel?"

"I dunno. I don't know what to do."

Doctor Jessops retrieved her notebook and opened it. "What d'you mean?"

I pressed my hand to my chest; the beat of my heart kicked up to a breakneck pace, and the ringing in my ears got louder. I found the dust bunny on the floor again and stared at it until the ringing stopped.

"Breathe, Radley. Breathe through it, and tell me what's got you feeling like this."

I snatched away the tear before it fell and blurted out every question that had kept me awake for two nights. "Because what if I'm wrong again? What if I make another mistake? What if I trust the wrong person again? How am I supposed to know?"

Doctor Jessops removed her glasses. The faint creases at the corner of her eyes fanned deeper as her eyes narrowed. "You aren't supposed to know, Radley. But the beauty of getting older is that it's easier for us to find the right decision. As kids, we're taught to inherently trust, but nothing you've done up to this point in your life has been your fault – or your doing. Mistakes are ours to make."

They were words I'd heard Doctor Jessops say over and over to me, but they had yet to sink in. I was yet to believe them.

"I guess."

"I think this guy you've met has unlocked something you've been burying for a long time. We can work on this. If you feel angry again, I want you to let it out in whichever manner you choose. You've been very brave this week, you should be proud of yourself."

My eyes flicked up to hers, earnest and truthful. "Really?"

"Yes," she nodded, closing her notebook. "I think that's enough for today. Let's pick this up again next session. Your homework is to text him back. You can text him anything. You don't have to see him again if you don't want to, but you have to tell him that."

I pushed away the swirling and churning in my stomach to smile at her. "Okay, thank you."

"You're welcome. See you next week."

The screen went black. I bent down and picked up the dust bunny, then dropped it in the trash. I hadn't been looking forward to this session, but as I stood there thinking about Doctor Jessops' words, I could sense a shift. I felt different.

It might have been the laughing, but I felt lighter.

Stronger.

Text him. I could do that.

Now I just needed to figure out what to say.