It Happened Last Year

Chapter 40

Sitting at my desk, I replay and replay the minute of the video where it shows me and Harrison. During the first three times, I cried, during the next three, I was angry, and now all I can do is watch with a blank face, numb. I stare at my face, at the clear discomfort and distress, and I replay and replay it.

It's been a week since I've accidentally mentioned the video to Daniel, and I've decided to tell him. He'd know what to do. Since my mother is staying late at the station, I asked if he'd come over, and by now he is on his way. I watch the video—not planning to show him it—and I wait to hear the knock at the door, trying to piece together my explanation. I wonder what he's going to say. He'd know what to do.

The knock finally comes and I spring from my seat, shutting the computer screen and rushing to the door. I take a deep breath before answering, swinging it open with a genuine smile, something weak but something meaningful. "Hi," I murmur. "Thanks for coming over."

Daniel is standing there, dreamy as usual. His body shows well through his shirt, and for the first time I think about touching him. My mind flourishes with the desired sensations of running my hands over his arms, over his chest, feeling the hardness of his body. My hands ball up into fists.

"Aren't you going to let me in?" He says, dragging me back to reality.

My cheeks flush and I scoot backward, opening the door wide enough for him to come through. He does and my eyes stalk him. My nails dig into my palms, trying to keep myself focused. I lead him to the living room, he takes a seat, I stand in front of him, and take another deep breath. "I need advice on something."

Daniel motions for me to continue on.

"It's about the video I mentioned last week," this really grabs his attention, and he probably expects me to say that someone is threatening me with something. "I got a note in my locker and it asked me to come to room 1244, so I did. That's where I was during lunch the day I didn't show up. In the room was this boy named Sam, and he gave me the video on a USB drive. The video is. . ." I struggle at this part.

"Is it of you?" Daniel asks and I nod.

"It's of me. It's of me and Harrison. The video is from last year at the party. It shows enough." Daniels face is blank for a moment, then he peers down at his hands folded together between his spread apart legs. I near him, sitting down beside him. "This boy caught it on camera. I have proof that it happened."

He looks up at me, and I can't tell what he's thinking. "We need to go now, Hailey. You need to take it to the station." He abruptly stands up, but I latch onto him, and he lets me bring him back down. "We need to go. Where is the drive?"

"I can't," I mumble.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I can't turn it in."

"Can't turn it in?" He repeats loudly, obviously not understanding me, but who would. I hardly understand it myself. "Are you scared?" He asks softer, and I actually think about my answer. Am I scared?

"I don't know," I say, "I don't know why, I just. . . I've told myself and told myself that I'm going to have to live with this. I'm going to have to understand that Harrison got away with it, and suddenly I have a video. I don't think I've fully registered it yet. I don't know how to."

Daniel sighs. "Then wait a few days. Even if I think you should turn it in now—wait a few days until you're ready. Just, don't lose it. Where is it?"

"In my bedroom. Plugged into my computer. I've been watching it for awhile."

Daniel looks at me closely, analyzing my face, probably trying to figure me out, trying to understand why I am so complicated and difficult. I wish I could give him a manual for my mind. I would need one too. Daniel eases back and I can't help but lean into him. We have a weird relationship, one that is not easily explained, and I need it more than anything. What we have is air to my lungs.

My eyes wander down to his hands, and from the sight of his battered knuckles, I shoot up, grabbing them, again showing him what I have found. "Again?" I question harshly. "At the gym? Right?"

Daniel says nothing.

"I'm not stupid," I say to him, dropping his hands.

"Don't worry about it, Hailey. I'm handling it."

I cross my arms, not as close to him as I just was. "Handling what exactly?" Then it hits me. "You're hurting people again, for that—that guy. You're working for him again! Please, tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you're just an idiot who doesn't wear gloves."

He is quiet again, and I fall back against the couch.

"Will you at least tell me why?"

"It's complicated. I don't want you worrying over it, not when you have this to deal with."

Another moment of silence falls between us. "I don't like this," I say, avoiding his eyes.

"Do I scare you?" He asks, and I know what I should think. I should be scared of him—of what he does—but the lost part of me, the part that longed for Mr. Russ, finds this factor irresistible. Maybe it's the fact that I shouldn't be with him that makes me crave his attention so much. It's common. Rational among many damaged people. People want what they can't have.

But I can have him. I know I can.

"No. You don't scare me," I tell him. "I know you would never hurt me."

Then he says something that I didn't see coming.

"What if I did?"

I swallow, not knowing what to think or say. Maybe I am stupid to believe that Daniel is some perfect person, that he can do no wrong. Humans hurt each other, it's what we do, so what makes Daniel any different?

"Would you hurt me on purpose?" I ask softly.

There is something heated about this conversation, something that makes me excited. I am on familiar grounds. I used to lust after Mr. Russ because I knew we would never happen—it was a fantasy that I knew would hurt in the end. It's what I knew, a painful ending. I was looking to push my broken boundaries because, in my mind, I had nothing left to lose. Harrison took everything from me, and I had an adrenaline rush from it.

There is something that excites me about Daniel hurting me. I know I shouldn't want this. I need to want to be happy, genuinely happy.

My toes curl and my feet struggle to stay put.

"Would you hurt me on purpose?" I ask again, this time letting my excitement bleed through my words.

I can't help it. I've been watching that video for a week, and I've been withering away. It's all I know again. It's all I see—myself in pain, hurting, struggling. It's the only thing that makes sense right now. I am drunk off the past.

Daniel doesn't answer, but he's definitely engrossed by me, by this side he's never seen. I can't help it, and I reach out to him, touching his arm, drawing him closer, enjoying the feeling of his body underneath my fingertips. It's a gentle stroke from his shoulder to his elbow, and suddenly it is different from Mr. Russ.

This is an entire side of me I have not encountered.