Starting Position

Chapter 28

If only I'd known what was to ensue the evening of Dillon's party, things may have looked very different. Or maybe, given the chance, I wouldn't have changed a thing.

The day started out like any other. I woke up, sucked down a cup of coffee, and jumped in the shower. I had slept well enough, my coffee went down smoothly, and my shower had been both relaxing and rousing. So far, so good.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, I found myself contemplating the party, wondering what would happen. Would Ben show up? If so, did Tyson have some elaborate scheme in place to humiliate him? I doubted he had an elaborate scheme, considering his dull wit, but I wouldn't put it past him to use every ounce of the meager brainpower he did possess to plan out Ben's humiliation. I trembled at the thought.

Having spent enough time sucked into the darkness of my thoughts, I decided to pull myself out of this figurative hole by reading a book I had recently started. However, upon a thorough search, it was nowhere to be found. I checked in my bedroom, between the cracks in the sofa, and even in certain places around the dining room: all of my favorite reading spots. I came up empty. I should have known this was an omen for the unfolding day.

I settled on reading a different book from my shelf, and spent the next six hours sheltered in my bedroom.

Well into the evening, the front door opened, and two voices filtered inside: my father and Sarah. I had found a note resting on the dining table that morning informing me that he would be out late, but he hadn't mentioned what he would be doing; however, as I listened to both voices, I had a fairly clear picture of exactly what he had been doing.

My father knew I would be going out tonight; I had told him I was seeing Julia (this was partly the truth, as she was picking me up). The plan was to leave at nine. I stole a glance at my alarm clock and realized Julia would be here any moment.

After opening my closet door, I reached for a folded t-shirt, but hesitated. Ben flashed before my eyes. My fingers gravitated towards a black dress with tiny white flowers. I slipped into it and pulled on a pair of black tights, which cushioned the sound of my feet coming down the hardwood stairs. What I saw nearly made my heart stop.

My father and Sarah were entangled on the couch. Their arms and legs were intertwined--hands grasping in passion-- and their mouths moved together in a kiss so all-consuming I could hear it. 

I was going to be sick. My stomach churned, and my blood ran cold. The sight had stopped me dead in the middle of the stairs, my body caught between safety and torture. I didn't know what to do. If I moved, they might hear me, and nothing would be worse. But if I stayed, I would keep having to bear witness to the lurid scene on the couch. I sat there every evening, for Christ's sake!

In a panic, I could only shut my eyes.

Then, as if by some miracle, I heard the two speaking, and I cautiously opened my eyes. They had parted, my father still seated on the couch. Sarah reached towards the end table to grab her purse. She pulled out a phone, and I heard it vibrating faintly.

Seizing the moment, I continued down the stairs, attempting to paste an unsuspecting look on my face.

"Oh – Ell – I didn't know you were home."

No shit.

"Yeah, I was upstairs reading."

Every square inch of Sarah's face was a varying shade of crimson. I had to fight back the urge to dry heave.

"Hi, Elliot, how are you?" she asked kindly, though there was a definite rasp in her voice. She placed the phone back inside her purse.

"Fine – about to head out actually." I quickly opened the entrance closet and slipped into a pair of black booties. "See you."