OOC: This is a joint venture betwen myself and Meriwether Family of BVA. This particular post is wonky-timed back to just before the Homecoming game.
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In the crisp fall air, Jem wanted to walk to their destination, taking a side trip along the ocean. They went along the beach, hand in hand. Hers was cold in his, even through his gloves. He paused.
"What are you doing?"
"Giving you my coat. You're shivering." He doffed his camel hair coat and wrapped it around Brianna's shoulders. She rubbed her cheek against the nap, prickly and soft at once. He put his arm around her and she warmed.
"Won't you be cold?"
He shook his head and smiled, tucking his chin under his scarf as she leaned into him, her head resting gently against his shoulder. A smile slowly turned up the corners of her mouth. "Well, as long as you're sure." She stepped around the debris littering the beach, the driftwood and tiny shells that sparkled.
"It's beautiful out here," he said. "Just little flotsam and jetsam, no industrial waste. It's nice."
"Better than the Isles?"
"Much," he said. He checked his watch and steered Brianna gently up the steps toward the heart of the city, where their appointment was waiting.
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The therapist's office was dark and warm, and smelled like hot apple crisp. It was a candle, burning on the receptionist's desk. Dr. Pryor looked a little like Byron Orpheus from the Venture Brothers, but he was wearing an oatmeal colored cardigan and his session office looked like a cross between a Harvard graduate lounge and a hippy rummage sale. Jem took back his coat and hung it neatly on a peg. They stood hand in hand like two children.
"Brianna I know," said Dr. Pryor, smiling, arranging his clipboard and pens. "You must be J. Elias Meriwether. I'm pleased you came."
Jem reached out and shook the doctor's hand. "Please call me Jem. J. Elias is my father." He looked over at Brianna, then at Dr. Pryor again. "I've authorized my analyst, Dr. Howe, to give you some of my case history. Signed the forms, did the thing. I'm going to try really hard to trust you as quickly as I can. I'm here today for Brianna. Thank you for inviting me to be here."
They sat, Jem and Brianna, on two plump victorian chairs, and Dr. Pryor sat opposite them.
The three of them spoke of innocuous things for a short time. Jem was deflective about himself at first. And then taking a cue from Brianna, who seemed to be under more and more anxiety as the minutes ticked by, he began to speak more freely in answer to the questions Dr. Pryor asked.
"Brianna said you gave her a book to read. What was it?"
"The Gift of Fear," said Jem, frowning.
"Why did you give her that book, Jem?"
Jem looked up. "Because it's a good book about how fear isn't necessarily bad. Brianna more than me, but we both have to deal with a lot of people who want things from us, or bad things for us. That book helped me understand where Brianna was coming from. Dr. Howe suggested it."
"I respect the good faith you've shown in coming here, Jem, but I need to know now, what you have on your mind. What do you want to say to Brianna?" The doctor's voice was calm and low, speaking to the two young people as if speaking to frightened animals who might suddenly bolt.
Jem trembled. When he was able to speak, his voice was modulated, but quiet. "Two things really bother me. The first is how angry I feel. Bri doesn't talk about it much, what happened to her. I get to see the effects on her, and I have to deal with it. She's so afraid sometimes, of just the simplest things. Sometimes she's scared of me, I can tell. But I keep getting angrier, the more I know her, about what happened to her. I want to kill the guy who did that to her. And I don't let her see how angry I am about it. Because she's scared all the time, and I don't want her to be scared of me."
There was a long pause. "And the second thing?"
Jem tried to give a charming smile but it slid across his face in a self-disgusted sneer. "I think Brianna is sexy. It gets hard sometimes not to just grab her and kiss her and touch her and make love to her. I know I could make it good for her, the sex. I know I could. But I get all these signals that she doesn't want that. It's not about the sex, exactly. She's scared of sex and scared of men and just scared. But it's hard for me, you know, because I have all these feelings for her that I want to act on physically, and we've only ever had the one, real, kiss. And I worry that she thinks that I don't think she's sexy. So it's a two part problem. I want more physical intimacy with her and she's not ready. And I worry that she thinks I don't think she's sexy, that I don't feel it at all, when really I feel it a lot. But I don't want her to feel like she has to put out just because I want her. I want her to be able to be with me because she wants to, not because she wants to make me happy, or feels obligated. I can't talk to any of my friends about this because they'd make wisecracks or call me pussywhipped or whatever, and this situation is tough enough already." He looked over at Brianna. "I don't feel that way. I don't give a shit about what anyone might say about us. But it would complicate things for me." He looked back at Dr. Pryor. "I guess we both just need a neutral place to be honest about these things and this might be it."
Brianna bit her lip and suddenly found her hands in her lap intensely interesting. When Dr Pryor had said it would be good for the two of them if Jem came in for a session or two with her, she had never expected these things from him. She hadn't known about the anger or the desire, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Like most things in relationships, they scared her.
"Brianna?" Dr Pryor's voice drew her gaze up from her hands. He waited for a moment before continuing. "Brianna, you seem to be rather deep in thought. Anything you would like to say?"
She looked at Jem and then back at her therapist. This was a safe zone. She trusted both these people, more than most anyone else. She began quietly at first. "Before Jem and I had started dating, I had heard stories. About him and girls. And it made me really think twice about dating him when he asked. It made me filter everything he said to me at first. You know... just to make sure he didn't want more than I could give."
"But not now?"
She shook her head and smiled slightly over at Jem. "He's been good to his word of letting me set the pace. Like he said, we've really only had one real kiss. And I was the one that kissed him. But I..." She found herself tugging on the edge of her skirt nervously, trying to find the right words to express herself. "I wonder sometimes if he can protect me. I know it's stupid and silly. What do I need protecting from, right? I'm Brianna Landers, popular, pretty, rich teenage cheerleader with superpowers."
She let out a derisive laugh before the small fake smile faded as the edges of her eyes grew moist. "But the fact of the matter is he's right. I am scared. A lot of the time. I act strong and confident, but you know I'm not. You both do. And I... I miss having a white knight to hide behind." Bri winced and returned her gaze to her lap. She had never wanted to compare Jem to Stephen. Jem was better than Stephen in just about every way. Jem treated her like a princess, not an accessory or a conquest. But she always knew that no one would mess with her while she was on Stephen's arm. She just didn't feel that way with Jem.
"Maybe it's just because it's never come up." She looked at Jem, trying to offer him any consolation she could.
"Maybe. But Brianna, I would do anything for you, protect you from anything. You want me to cut off a dragon's head, I'll do it. But the things I want to protect you from have already happened." Jem looked down at his hands and then looked off, into space. The words came out robotically.
"That boy raped you."
His hands gripped the wooden arms of his chair so tightly they cracked in their sockets.
Brianna gave a single sustained sob, a note of anguish. He avoided her, looking anywhere but the invisible point of light in the darkness all around him. The shapes of the letters in the spines of the books in the bookshelves. That was what he could see.
"I can't fix that. I can't save you from that. Brianna, nobody can protect you from what happened to you. Nobody can save you from that. Nobody. Nobody but you." He looked at her then, face a clenched fist of pain. "I feel like I'm meant to be here right now. To watch out for you. To give you some sort of...sanctuary. But I'm not here to save you. Christ, I wish I could!" His breath chuffed out of his nose. "I'm here to help you save yourself."
Brianna moaned softly, eyes filling with tears. Her mouth felt numb, tasted salty. Feeling sharp, and frantic, she formed a fist and beat it on her chest, trying to make the words come. "..I'm," she shook her head back and forth violently. "... tired. I'm just so tired." She tried to catch her breath and felt it rush in and out too quickly to be controlled. Her breathing changed to sobs, and she covered her face, wiping at the tears that continued to fall. Jem reached out his arms to her, but she dismissed him with a gesture. He handed her his handkerchief, and she took it, wringing it slowly between her fists. She kept trying to make words, but nothing would come. Jem kept looking at her, then looking away, biting at the inside of his own mouth.
"It's all right, Jem," said Dr. Pryor, gently. "You can let go. It won't hurt her to see you cry."
Jem wept. By some trick of the light, they filled his eyes to dark pools of ichor, but spilled out onto his cheeks clean.
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They walked back to St. Joseph's School, along the beach once more.
"I have to cheer tonight. It's a game night." Her voice was dull and lethargic.
"You could call in sick. Nobody would blame you."
She winced up at him, face pale and drawn. "Yes they would. Time to put it all back on again. The happy face. The popular girl. The mask." She reached out for his hand and their fingers touched, twining together.
"I know how hard it is for you, Bri. I wish everyone knew. I wish they could appreciate how strong you are." He paused and bent down to his shoes, untying them, and then his socks.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm going to enjoy the beach with my feet. Who knows when I'll have opportunity again?" He rolled up his trousers to the knee and held out a hand to her. "Join me?"
"You're a nut," she said, but she slipped off her shoes, a small smile spreading across her face. They walked to the water's edge, where the rising tide had covered over the shells and stones from the afternoon. The sand was soft under their feet, and pleasantly cool, warmed by the autumn sun.
Jem looked off into the ocean, and then, slowly walked them into the water. Brianna laughed and squealed as the cold water struck her on her shins, and then her thighs.
"We're getting wet," she said. "Why are we out here?"
"So I can do something for you." He brought up water solemnly between his cupped hands, like a priest at an offering, and let it pour gently over her head, the icy trickle like a shock, making the incohate misery of their joint therapy session recede, crystalizing the moment in the past. Her eyes opened and her body tingled, fresh and alive, the water running down her neck becoming warm, the warmth of his body close to hers in the cold water suddenly real and tangible, present.
"Be clean," he whispered. Or did he whisper, did he say anything at all? But she felt grace in the warmth of his touch. They walked out of the water together, arm in arm, wet to the thighs. And for her part, she walked with lighter footsteps. She had found sanctuary.
Sanctuary
Moderator: Student Council
