your Audi story isn’t true. There aren’t any records

Billy never reported it, he didn’t want to get her in trouble

You have an answer for everything

Apparently I need to

I know what Haggerty wants. I knew the minute I googled him. He’s not interested in Billy in any significant way. He wants to know about Marcus. The question isn’t why but why now? Why does it matter? Marcus and I broke up more than a year ago. Haggerty doesn’t know how old I was when we started having sex. Who cares?

For the record, I told the truth about Billy’s Audi; rather, I told Haggerty what I knew. Admittedly, I didn’t see it happen nor did I have many details. Lawrence called last December, a week before the holidays to make sure I was coming home. “Billy and Diana had a fight,” he said at one point. “Billy’s car is destroyed.”

“I told you Diana is nuts.” I felt vindicated. “Why isn’t she paying for it?”

“Eleanor just asked the same thing. I think she’s afraid to tell her father. Their financial situation isn’t great. That’s just speculation, though. Billy was vague about it.” He paused. “It was weird—the way your brother was protecting her. I didn’t think they were seeing each other anymore.”

“You should press charges. At least call the cops.”

“Billy doesn’t want to.”

The story I told Haggerty could’ve been true. I mean, why would Billy bust up his own car? I texted him, but he never replied. Nate claimed he had no idea. No one pressed charges. There were no witnesses. So, really, who’s to say the whole thing didn’t happen exactly the way I described it?

* * *

I dread going back to New York, even if is better for Billy. I hate when Lawrence and Eleanor drag me into the middle of their arguments. One of my worst memories is from when I was nine. It was Christmas morning, and everyone was in the celebration room, waiting for me. When I raced in, giddy and excited, Eleanor jumped up from the couch. “Cassandra!” she admonished me. “Put something on. You can’t come in here like that.”

I stopped dead in my tracks.

“Get dressed. Go. Now.”

What was she talking about? I was wearing a nightgown! Then I looked down. Through the sheer fabric, you could see outlines of my underwear and the tiny buds of my nipples.

“I said go!”

Standing there, I was no longer a girl. I was no longer a person. I was just a body, exposed and alone. I was paralyzed.

Lawrence took my hand. “Let’s go, kiddo. I’ll help you find your robe.” I don’t remember what he said, but I know I felt better. Later, I overheard him telling Eleanor she was too harsh.