Ghost Time

went to 7-Eleven? Remember that time we went and I got so upset because they had that can at the counter for donations for abused animals? And it had that picture of that dog and the cat, and we were having so much fun, but that picture almost made me cry? It was a tape from the security camera, right above the counter. It’s black and white and grainy, and you can’t hear very well, but I remember the color, the live version, and I, I remember everything.
    That was an easy one, too. Most of the videos aren’t easy, not even close to the ones of us in my bed. And I know it’s not you, that you couldn’t have taken them, but the way they’re shot, the only person that close to me was you. Seriously, the only person who could have shot them was you. Because there’s a camera pointed in my face, at my neck, looking downward, pointed at my crotch, your crotch, and it shows everything. It makes me sick, watching the two of us, in my room, in my bed. It’s you and me, and I can’t even stand to watch us, you know?
    All I know is, I almost hope… I almost hope… I’m sorry, but I almost hope something happened to you. I’m sorry, but it’s true, because it’s like I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you if you just ran away like that. No, not if you left me here, alone. Because I shouldn’t have to deal with this alone—with school, my mom, your mom, the whole town, the whole world, every day. I keep my phone turned off all the time now, and I can barely stand to open my computer anymore, the messages people leave, the things people post about me, e-mail me. No one deserves that, but I definitely don’t.
    So I don’t know what people see or don’t see, except when they make comments in the halls. Do you know how paranoid it makes you, someone sending you a video of yourself that only one person could have taken, but knowing there’s no way? I tell them, too—I tell my mom, Knox, the lawyers, that it’s impossible. You couldn’t have shot that, because you would have had to have a camera in your hand to get that close. So I don’t understand, because it’s just not possible. But it’s there, online. Everyone at school has seen it—the whole world’s seen it. They try to take it down, Apple does, YouTube does, but every time it gets a hit, the image becomes clearer. Even that 7-Eleven surveillance video of us, that’ll be high-def by the end of the week.
    Every day, every single day, there’s a moment when I think I’m going to lose it. Why would you do this to me? But I have no idea what to believe, what’s true, if it even matters anymore. The real joke is that everyone knows who we are now. We’re big news, right? We’re celebrities, Cam. And then, sometimes I think about sending you a postcard that says: We’re famous. Wish you were here.
    I stopped there, looked at the words, and closed the book. I checked my calendar, wanting to date the page, and I don’t pay much attention to days of the week anymore. I mean, yesterday, tomorrow: same difference. So I put Hubble away, and I went to bed, sometime around four, I think, and then, next thing I know, Mom’s knocking on my door, and of course, I panicked.It just reminded me so much of Karen knocking, and I got up, right away. It wasn’t early, though, I’d just been up late, writing. Actually, it was almost noon, and I opened the door, and Mom said, Wash your face, and come to the living room, and then she turned around.
    I could tell it wasn’t Cam, so I put on my slippers, washed my face and brushed my teeth. Then, pulling a sweatshirt over my head, I walked to the living room, thinking we were going to have another talk about the book offers. So, no warning, whatsoever, I walked in, and then I froze. Because it wasn’t the lawyers again; it was worse: It was my dad. Sitting in our living room.
    I didn’t recognize him at first, because I was so unprepared to see him there, but he looked just the same, but a little older, a little richer. He was wearing a gray cashmere V-neck sweater, dark Levis, loafers, and a big new watch that probably cost more than my mom makes in a year now. He looked tan, too—probably took a two-week vacation with his new family in the Bahamas, and I thought, Take a good look around: because this is what you did to us. He stood up, smiling, and said, Hello, Thea. I’m so glad to see you, and I looked at him, then I looked at Mom, and then I said, Get out . Get out! Get out of our house! My