Surviving Valencia

“Was it fate that you were in that bar that night with John Spade?”

“No. That was a terrible thing. Terrible bad luck.”

“How did he let you walk away from all this, knowing what you know? I don’t believe your story.”

“He told me he would kill me if I said anything. So for about a year I was afraid he’d kill me anyway, but then he went to prison and my life started to go on.”

“Did you know he was out of prison?”

“No. I didn’t think he was getting out for a long time still.”

“How could you have never told me this? If all this is true, and you aren’t responsible for what happened to them, and you really love me, why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I thought it would hurt you too much.”

“But if you really loved me, the truth would be important than protecting my feelings.”

“You’ve got it backwards,” he said, taking my hands in his. “You must know I am not responsible for what happened, or you would have gone to the police when you got that letter. Right?”

“You’ve got it backwards. I didn’t go to the police because I was afraid you were involved. I need to think. I need to take a walk.” I put on my sunglasses to hide my face and I left.

Chapter 54

My twenty-first birthday was actually fun. That’s the great thing about turning twenty-one: Boys know you’re going to get really drunk, so they pay attention to you. I am ashamed to admit I was still living in the dorms at that point. I went to Paul’s Club on State Street in downtown Madison with two other girls who were nineteen but had fake ID’s. Their names were Luna and Dannon, like the yogurt. Luna was just four feet ten inches tall and her left arm was kind of mangled. I didn’t ask why. Dannon was six foot three and would have been a supermodel if not for her tiny, rotten stubs of teeth. Again, I just didn’t ask. The three of us had all been in a yoga class together, and as a result, we were sort of friends.

We spent a long time getting ready. We wore wrap skirts that actually were shorts with a panel over the front, but looked like shorts in the back, and chunky heeled summer sandals. We each had tiny purses on long strings that fell all the way to our hips. Dannon liked girls, and wore a shirt that said so. Luna and Dannon were single too, and each of us was silently hoping for some kind of miracle.

We got to Paul’s Club (Dannon insisted on Paul’s Club, because she had a crush on a bartender there) and all three of us ordered screwdrivers. We sat down beneath the famous tree inside and tried to hold what looked like a normal conversation, waiting for some boys (or a girl) to sit by us. Luna tucked her left arm casually beneath her purse and the sweater she had brought along as a shield. Dannon wisely kept her mouth closed. I sat just so, innocently smooshing my breasts together to create a meager line of cleavage. We sipped our drinks and waited. It didn’t take long for some frat boys to notice Dannon.

“Hi there,” said one. “Mind if we join you?”

“We’d love it!” said Luna. All three of us knew what this meant: Free drinks.

The guy and his two friends squeezed in all around us. One between Luna and Dannon, one on either side of me.

“I’m Jake, this is Josh, and this is Jarid.”

“Nice to meet you,” we said, and introduced ourselves.

“What are you ladies drinking?” asked Josh.

“Screwdrivers,” we giggled. Three more drinks appeared before us.

“Your name is Dannon?” asked Jake. Dannon nodded.

“That’s a really, really unique name,” said Jarid.

“Are you named after someone?” asked Josh. He was sitting to my right, farthest away from her. “Mind if I switch with you?” he asked, standing up and giving me a little shove without looking at me. I took my drinks and scooted over. Now Luna and I were across from each other while the three boys focused their attention on Dannon, who couldn’t stop looking for her crush behind the bar and who had yet to open her mouth more than what was required to sip her drink.

Luna rolled her eyes at me. She held up her drink to toast me. “To free drinks,” she said, clinking my glass. Then she began picking maraschino cherries off their swizzle stick with her bad hand and topping the fingers on her good hand with them, black olive style.

“Are you a model?” Jake asked Dannon. She shook her head.

“You sure as hell could be!” said Jarid.

Dannon smiled weakly, keeping her lips pressed firmly together. Then she held up one finger. “Be right back,” she said, expertly hiding her teeth, and made her way to the ladies’ room.

The boys looked at Luna and me. There was a brief, awkward silence.