Chapter 4

Past

Betty cancelled the last few tutoring sessions with Stacy, claiming they'd already covered more than what she'd missed. Her father accepted that with nothing more than a questioning look.

There were two telephone calls from her as well. Betty basically ignored Stacy on the other end, saying that no, she couldn't make it for coffee that day, she had a date, maybe another time, and hung up. The conversation was for her father's benefit.

The rest of the school year went smoothly.

Mr. Valdez was a changed man ever since she'd seen him in Ms. Flanders office. He became rather shy and soft-spoken, often blushing when speaking with any of the girls. Heck, some of them rather liked him now, he was that different. One thing was rather odd about him though. He rarely sat down, and when he did, he looked, well, uncomfortable, squirming around as though something itched. It became a minor standing joke around school because he rarely if ever sat in class, stood to eat lunch, and leaned against a desk or a wall when relaxing. 'Definitely odd', Betty said to herself, whenever she thought about the changes in him.

When it came time to write the makeup exams, they were administered by Ms. Flanders. Betty aced them. All that pushing by Stacy had helped.

Near the end of the year, one of the junior guys, a cute italian type with big brown eyes, invited her to the junior prom. She accepted, and then talked her dad into letting her go. He gave her strict instructions on how to behave and what not to do.

On prom night, she lost her virginity. Too much alcohol, smuggled in, and a date that wouldn't take no for an answer. At least he used a rubber. It was distinctly unsatisfying. This was supposed to be one of the most glorious events in her life, and all she got was a sore and bloody crotch. He never gave her an orgasm, and never called again. She never told her father.

There was only one person in Betty's life now who she could really talk to, and that was Joyce. Even then she couldn't bring herself to open up completely. There was no mention of that last afternoon with Stacy, or her lingering attraction to the girl. She never discussed the details of prom night, only that she'd lost her virginity. Joyce did help her with the things a mother normally would have, even finding a doctor who would prescribe birth control pills without her father's knowledge. Those long lunches or dinners every few weeks were the only times Betty could open up to anyone. She certainly wouldn't dream of talking about these things with dad.

The summer went pretty much the same way as that last winter and spring, dating different guys, rarely finding any that were satisfying, let alone one who could make her feel really good. The few she let go all the way were mostly inept. Even as inexperienced as she was, she knew there had to be better. Only once had she even climaxed with a guy inside her, and that was just barely. She considered finding a more experienced man, just to find out what it was supposed to be like, but knew she'd never forgive herself if it got out of hand. Masturbation times became frequent, increasing along with the frustration she was feeling with her dates.

Several times during that spring and summer she was invited out on double dates with Robert and Jordan. These were the only real high points of this period, except for her occasional lunches or dinners with Joyce. Everything else seemed rather mundane. Especially her other dates.

For some reason, whenever she got really depressed, her thoughts would return to that one evening with Stacy, in Annabella's. It wasn't the food or the wine or the conversation. What she kept remembering was the silent time they'd shared afterwards, just sitting there, doing nothing. This always made her cry, feeling lonely, feeling the ache of that empty hole inside her.

She could barely feel Stacy's kiss on her cheek as she cried, lighter than a feather's touch, as ephemeral as the faintest hint of a summer's breeze.

Present

Betty had her nose buried in a history text when her dad got home. She hadn't read a thing, but was lying there wondering what would happen if she did move out. The thought was scary, since this was the only home she'd ever really known. Even after her mom moved out, it was still home. Just emptier.

She heard her dad and Patsy talking. Their voices sounded tense, but they were talking quietly enough that she couldn't make out what they were saying. A few minutes later, her father came up to her room.

"Hi short-stuff. What's this nonsense I hear about you not coming to the beach with us? I've already made the reservations. You wouldn't want to ruin the weekend, would you?"

"Dad, I told you yesterday that I wasn't interested in going. You weren't listening. I really don't feel like taking off for the weekend. Another time maybe, but not right now."

"Why are you trying to be so difficult? Getting away for a while is just what you need! It'll help you forget about things for a while, give you a chance to see what you're missing. Now get packed up and lets get going."

"Dad, I won't be going this weekend. I have other plans, including a basketball game tomorrow. You two go ahead and have a good time. I'll be just fine here by myself."

Jonathan was getting angrier by the minute at his daughter's refusal. "Are you planning on seeing that bitch Stacy again? I told you I didn't want you to ever see her again! That woman's no good. She'll ruin you, break your heart, then leave. I don't want you hurt. I'm sure as hell not going to leave you here alone right now. So get packed up. You're coming, like it or not."

Betty was also getting more than a little upset, but wanted to keep her cool. Let dad do the ranting and raving. He'd have to apologize for it later.

"No dad. I won't be going. I'm old enough to start making some of my own decisions. And no, my plans do not include going to see Stacy."

"I don't particularly care what plans you think you've made!" He was shouting now, having lost control. "You're living under my roof, eating my food, spending my money. You'll bloody well do what you're told! Or else!"

"Or else what? You'll spank me? Lock me in my room? Ground me for a month? Or maybe you'll do to me what you did to mother?"

Jonathan glared at her for a few seconds, looking like he was about to shout some more. Then he stepped back out of her room, slamming the door behind him.

A few minutes later she heard her dad and Patsy arguing. They kept their voices down for the most part, but she did hear a few shouted phrases. "You insensitive bastard" "Fucking bitch" "You never loved me!" After a while, the voices stopped, and she heard the front door slam.

Her door opened, revealing Jonathan standing in the doorway. He was staring at her. "I hope you're fucking well satisfied. Patsy's madder than hell at me now and it's all your fault. It'll be ages before she calms down enough to talk to me. You've ruined this weekend for all of us! And you can bloody well stay in this room until you're ready to apologize to both of us for the way you've acted!"

"I don't think I have anything to apologize for. I never lost my temper, I never swore, I never called anybody any nasty names, and I was perfectly civil to Patsy. The only thing I did was not knuckle under and do something I didn't want to."

"You listen to me. You've gotten Patsy upset. You've ruined our plans and made me look like a fool in my own house. And you don't think you've done anything wrong? You're grounded for a week. Longer if I don't get an apology. Starting right now."

He stepped out and slammed the door behind him again. Betty felt like crying, but wouldn't let the tears come yet. She needed to think. The last time she'd seen her father this angry was just before her mother left. Betty wondered if her mother had felt this same way. She needed to talk to someone right now, and the only person she thought would be available was Joyce.

Grabbing her purse, she headed out to the front door.

"Well, are you coming out here to apologize already?" Her father was standing in the kitchen, staring at her.

"No dad. I need someone to talk to so I'm going over to Joyce's for a while."

"I told you you were grounded. That means no going out! Especially to talk with that nosy witch next door! Now get back in your room until you're ready to apologize!"

Her dad was now standing in front of her, towering over her, shouting. She was more afraid of him now than ever before in her life. She was also angry. If she backed down now, he'd be running her life forever. Betty thought that this was what had driven her mother out of the house, his anger, and her need to live her own life.

"Dad, please. Calm down. I need to talk to somebody, and she's the only one around. I'll be back soon, when you've had a chance to cool off."

"I don't need to cool off. I see exactly what's happening! You're trying to do the exact same thing your mother did! I won't let you hurt me like that too! Now get back in your room!"

"No dad. I'm going next door to have a talk with Joyce."

The next thing Betty knew, she was lying on the floor with her father standing over her. She felt her cheek. It was hot, raw, and starting to sting. Her father had a very concerned and frightened look on his face.

"Oh my god Betty. Are you all right? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it, but you forced me. I'll never do anything like it again. Please, say something!"

Betty slid away from him, still on the floor, staring up into his eyes. Getting to her feet, she walked to her room, not taking her eyes off him until she closed the door. Once there, she looked in the mirror. You could see the imprint of his palm and four fingers across the left side of her face. Her lip was cut, and it looked like she'd have a black eye. She stood there and stared at herself for a few minutes, her mind blank, unable to think. A knock on the door brought her back to reality.

"Betty? Betty hon, are you all right? I'd like to talk to you. Please?"

"Don't you dare step foot in here! Go away! I don't ever want to see you again!"

"You don't mean that, hon. You have a nice sleep, and we'll talk about this in the morning. You'll feel a lot better. You'll see." His footsteps faded away down the hall.

Betty looked around her room, feeling very much alone and scared. This is what her father was like. Never before had she seen him hit anyone. Now he'd hit her, because she didn't do what he wanted. Joyce said that he'd hit mother too. This house felt very big and very empty now. Two weeks ago it was her home. Now it was her father's house. He'd said so himself. Not their house. His house. His food, his money. Possessions. Just like his girlfriend and his wife. And his daughter.

Betty stared at the wall for a while. She still loved her father, regardless of what he'd done. But could she ever be happy in this house again? Or could she even stand coming back here, knowing that her father might hit her again?

No, she decided. She wasn't going to let anybody beat her, not even her father. Staying here tonight was now out of the question. Maybe after a day or two to think things through, she might come back. Probably not. Packing up as many essentials as she could in her overnight bag, she tried to prepare herself for the confrontation with her father.

The tight knot of fear in her stomach almost made her ill. Her legs were feeling weak, her knees trembling slightly, and her hands were shaking. The adrenalin rush was wearing off. It was finally sinking in that dad had *hit* her. She had to get out now, before her resolve, or her body, failed.

Grabbing her purse and her bag, she tried for the front door. Jonathan headed her off from the kitchen again.

Past

In the fall things started getting better. Two new teachers showed up in the school, along with a new counselor, and several new boys were in her classes. A couple of them even seemed nice. She joined the women's basketball team, not so much because she loved basketball, but because she wanted to keep fit. It was fun being with the team though, especially when she became the starter at left guard. Sure beat cheerleading.

She and Mr. Valdez were getting along fine now. As long as she wasn't in his class, she didn't mind speaking with him. Besides, he seemed to be a pretty nice guy now.

She found a new boyfriend, Dave. He was quiet and a bit shy, but he genuinely liked her for herself, not just for her good looks. When she got past his shyness, she realized that he was also pretty smart. He worked out regularly and was on the track team as a middle-distance runner, but didn't have that jock mentality. She liked him.

They dated frequently, and every once in a while they'd go all the way. He was decent. Not great, but better than the others. At least he took time to see to her needs, not just his own. He was also romantic, taking her to quiet restaurants, surprising her with flowers and other small gifts, and showing an interest in her activities.

Most of her friends would kill to have a nice guy like this. She liked him, but there was no spark, no sizzle, no deep-down joy in his presence. Sometimes she felt a little cheap, like she was taking advantage of him. This wasn't the person to make her happy for the rest of her life. But for here and now, he was good enough to make her sometimes forget the emptiness that seemed to have permanently settled inside her.

Robert and Jordan still took her out on the occasional double date. Dave didn't like it, he was jealous, but she told him that this was strictly a friendship thing. She and Robert got along quite well together and had formed a close bond. They did finally go to another proper show, this time seeing Showboat. It was, in Jordan's words, 'A Grand Performance, worthy of acclaim in any age'.

To get some real cash of her own, she got a part time job. She was a 'P/T Assistant Stenographer' working in a law office. It was basically a glorified coffee-girl job, and she knew she got it on her looks, but the pay was decent. Her primary duty was to make and serve coffee to all her bosses and their clients. In her words, 'eye-candy.' They did expect her to learn to do filing, record entry, do some typing, open the mail, and help with the general scutwork of the office. It was usually interesting, sometimes fun, and the other girls in the office treated her as a person. She enjoyed both the job and the money.

Jonathan arranged a special treat for the three of them, Patsy, Betty and himself. It was both for Christmas and for Betty's 16th birthday. They went to Aspen, Colorado for a ski holiday, spending ten days there, from December 23 to Jan 2. It was fabulous. There were all kinds of things to do, and no end of cute studs to flirt with. Her skiing was so-so, but none of the guys gave two hoots about that anyway.

It was after they got back and sorted out all the holiday mail that she found a Christmas card addressed to her from Stacy.

It was very simple.

"Dearest Elizabeth

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

I've been thinking of you

KIndest regards, Anastasia"

Inside the card was an invitation for "Dinner at Annabella's" Stacy had written in "Please come. If you don't, I'll understand, and won't bother you again."

The invitation was for 7:00 pm. Yesterday.

She wasn't going to cry. She would *NOT* cry. They never had a relationship. Stacy never really wanted her. It had all been her overactive imagination. Even if there had been something, she was over it by now. The only date they'd ever gone on together was a setup. She'd had other relationships since then, and now she had a boyfriend.

It was only late that night, as she lay in bed, that her eyes betrayed her by leaking again.

She could still feel the faint ghost of that kiss on her cheek.

Present

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I don't know. Away from here for now. I don't want to get hit again."

"Betty, please, that was an accident. You were being so obstinate I lost my temper. It'll never happen again, believe me. So you just go back to your room, have a good nights sleep, and we'll pretend that tonight never happened. Okay?"

Her temper flared now, deep and hot. "Is that what you told mother too? How many times did you hit her before she finally left for good? My limit is once. Period. So unless you're planning on hitting me again, move out of the way."

"Betty, please. I never hit your mother. Whoever told you that was lying. I loved her too much for that. She left me to go live with that slut girlfriend of hers. I wouldn't let her do such disgusting things while she was living here, so she moved out. She obviously never loved me or you, because she's never called once in the last five years. I love you Betty. I don't want to lose you too."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you hit me. I'm probably going to end up moving in with my 'slut girlfriend' too, because I don't have anywhere else to go. I love you, but I can't live here with you, afraid all the time, wondering if you'll hit me again. It just hurts too much. Now please, let me go."

"Okay, I'll let you go for now. When you change your mind and you're ready to come back, I'll expect an apology. You're treating me very poorly, and you know it."

Jonathan stepped aside, and let Betty get out the front door. She turned to say goodbye, but when she saw the look of pain in his eyes, couldn't say anything. She closed the door and walked over to Joyce's house.

The door opened after the first knock. It seems Joyce had been expecting her. By the shocked look that appeared on her face, though, she wasn't expecting what she saw.