“Wait, I was a ‘last resort’ for you?” Cy interrupted.

“I was young and stupid,” Ophelia replied, sighing. “I’ve done many stupid things, as you know all too well. ”

Cy bit her lip and looked away, not responding.

“Well, I was wrong about the dance thing, of course,” Ophelia continued, to Emily. “Dunstan ended up going to the dance with Charise. Surprise, surprise, huh? Oh, and it turned out that when he didn’t show up that day, he was with Charise. Supposedly, he was having car problems. What a crock. I bet he brought her shopping or whatever the hell it was that he decided she’d like. But anyway, getting back on track, not long before the dance, he’d gotten his hair cut. Said he was trying to look more professional or something. And not long after that, Charise got her hair cut. And it was then that I started wondering if maybe something was up. I decided to get to the bottom of things. Man, was that a stupid thing for me to do. First, he started trying to change me into his idea of a ‘perfect woman.’ And then…”


“Long hair is just kind of young looking. You would look better with shorter hair,” Dunstan said again. “Want another cup of tea?”

“No,” Ophelia said sharply, “and don’t try to change the subject. I have long hair, and I look fine. And Charise looked fine before she got her hair cut.”

“Charise wisely chose to get her hair cut so that she would look more like an adult.”

“Probably to impress you,” Ophelia muttered. “I plan on keeping my hair long for as many years as possible.”

“You’d look better with shorter hair,” Dunstan said, for the hundredth or so time that day. “And maybe if you wore something that wasn’t black. You always look like you’re going to a funeral.”

“I happen to like how I look and dress,” Ophelia retorted. What did I ever see in this jerk? she thought. “Better to look like I’m at a funeral than to look like a damn Barbie.”

“You’d rather look like a sullen child than a respectable woman?”

“If being respectable means dressing in cute, flowery, preppy stuff, leave me out of it. I’d rather be ‘indecent,’ by your standards, if that’s the other choice.” Ophelia’s eyes narrowed. He brainwashed Charise, didn’t he? Or, maybe he wants to. And he’s trying to brainwash me, she thought. He wants to turn me into his idea of eye candy. He was never interested in me as a person, only what I could potentially be. Her rage finally came to a head, and she let loose with her fury.

“You are a sick, twisted man, aren’t you?” she yelled. “You’re trying to brainwash me and Charise so we’ll be perfect little trophy jailbait for you, dressed in cutesy pastels and with perfect hair and makeup. If you want someone who looks like a so-called respectable woman, then go find a ‘respectable’ woman, not a teenager! No, I know what it is. You like them young. You like the feeling of being in control and being able to get cute young things to do whatever gets you off. That might work for a lot of chicks. Hell, it might even work on Charise. But it sure as hell won’t work on me!”

Ophelia was standing by this time, shouting at Dunstan with all of the fury and indignation she possessed. “I can’t believe I actually liked you. And if I ever hear that you laid so much as one finger on Charise before she’s legal-- hell, make that ever-- I’ll have the cops on you so fast, it’ll make your head spin. Maybe I should tell Uncle Preston what you‘re up to!”

Dunstan rose and gripped Ophelia’s shoulders tightly. “You’ll do no such thing!” he snapped, shaking her roughly.

“I sure as hell will!” Ophelia retorted. “I’d rather see Charise with S than with you, ever! Besides, you’d probably just dump her for the next cute young thing you meet. In fact, after I leave here, I’m telling Uncle Preston what a slime ball you are. You’ll never step foot anywhere near my family ag--”

“That’s enough out of you!” he yelled, shoving Ophelia onto the floor.

______________________________________

Ophelia shivered and glanced around. She didn’t dare move until she was sure Dunstan was gone, at least for the time being. She took a slow, cautious breath. Her body ached, and she knew there were bruises forming. She quickly gathered her clothes and dressed hurriedly.

I better leave before he gets back, Ophelia thought fearfully. Before he does it again. She tiptoed over to the door and hurried through the house to the front door, struggling not to make any noise. She eased the door open and hurried out, shutting the door behind her.

I need to get away, she thought. Need to get away from this place. Can’t let him get to me again.

She ran down the sidewalk, desperate to put as much space between herself and Dunstan as possible. Ophelia ran until her muscles nearly screamed in agony. She slowed down finally, trying to catch her breath.

What do I do? she thought, trying to ignore her pain. Can’t go home. Can’t go see Charise. What do I do?

Just then, a car screeched to a halt nearby.

“Ophelia?” the driver called, hurriedly climbing out of the car. It was Cy.

Cyrus, now known as Cy, had been kicked out of the family when her parents discovered her desire to be female. Ophelia and Charise had appealed to Preston, who took the strange adolescent into the Marlow household. In exchange for room and board, Cy would aid in the housework, as well as the care of Charise and Ophelia’s grandmother.

“Ophelia!” Cy called again. Ophelia turned slowly, and Cy’s eyes widened.

“Oh God,” Cy whispered. “Here, get in the car.”

Ophelia silently obeyed. Cy shut the door, then climbed into the driver’s seat. She drove Ophelia to Preston’s house and led her to her room.

“Lia,” Cy whispered, when they were finally in the room, “what happened?” Ophelia shook her head, not meeting Cy’s eyes. “Lia, who did this to you?”

Slowly, Ophelia raised her head and met Cy’s worried look with as blank a stare as she could manage.

“Honey, we need to bring you to the police. They can catch whoever did this.”

“No!” Ophelia burst out fearfully. “They’ll think I made it up to make Charise mad, or that I led him on.”

“Why?” Cy asked gently. “There’ll be evidence to prove--” She halted mid-sentence, Ophelia’s words sinking in. “Oh God… Lia, did Dunstan do this to you?”

Ophelia began to sob.

“That b*stard,” Cy whispered. “Lia, what he did is illegal, and if you--”

“I can’t!” Ophelia gasped. “Charise will think it’s to keep her from getting Dunstan.”

“What if he already did this to her, honey?” Cy asked.

“He hasn’t. I can tell.”

“What if he does in the future?”

Ophelia shook her head. Where’s my strength? Where’s my fighting spirit? Where’s my damn pride? she thought. All wiped away. I’m nothing now. I deserved it, didn’t I? I was always around. I flirted with him…

“I can’t, Cy!” Ophelia cried out. “I don’t want them to know how f**ked up I am. The media attention and all… I don’t want people to know about this!”

“Ophelia Desdemona Foley, you are going to go tell the police,” Cy said firmly.

“And what if I don’t?” Ophelia asked tearfully. “What if I don’t want to deal with the reporters and the gossip and publicity and all?” She stared up at Cy. “Are you going to hurt me too? Are you going to do something bad to me if I don‘t tell the cops?”

Cy swallowed hard, trying unsuccessfully to control herself. She embraced Ophelia tightly, crying. “No, I’m not,” she whispered. “I just don’t like the idea of people hurting you. I want there to be justice.”

Ophelia gasped, a new fear coming into her mind. “Cy, what if there’s a baby?”

Cy closed her eyes and slowly listed the broad spectrum of options, ranging from telling the police and taking a pill to not telling the police and keeping the potential child, and everything in between.

Ophelia sighed, and after several minutes of thought, said quietly, “I think I’ll go to the doctor or drugstore. Whoever will provide what I need.”

“Want me to come with you?”

“Yeah, please. This is too scary to do alone.”

“Fine,” Cy replied. “Let me change my clothes, and we’ll be on our way.”

Cy pulled her hair back, wiped her makeup off, and put on more masculine-looking clothing. “If anyone asks, I’m your boyfriend. They’ll take me more seriously if I actually look like a guy,” she explained.

“You don’t have to do that,” Ophelia said softly.

“It’s the very least I can do, Lia,” Cy replied, leading Ophelia out by the hand. “After all, we have to take care of the people we love.”


“My God,” Emily whispered in horror, “that’s terrible. So, what happened next?”

“That’s pretty much it,” Ophelia replied. “I stopped spending time around Dunstan, became the weirdo you know me as, dated a few guys-- nothing serious, obviously, you get the idea.”

“Did you ever tell Charise?”

“No.”

“You really should. I mean, he might have done the same thing to her.”

Ophelia shrugged. “It’s unlikely,” she said with a sigh. “Besides, Charise would be the type to think it was made up to tick her off. It seems like to her, Dunstan can do no wrong.”


“Razorblade Romance again?” Ophelia asked, flopping onto the bed.

“It’s a good CD,” Cy replied.

“Eh, ever since AJ did that whole ‘play a song for her’ thing, the CD has always kind of bothered me, in a weird way.”

Cy shrugged and turned the music louder. Ophelia sighed and leaned her head on Cy’s shoulder. “You were right, by the way. I do feel better now that I’ve told Emily.”

“See?” Cy responded. “You really ought to tell Charise now.”

“Maybe,” Ophelia murmured. “But knowing her, she would probably hate me for it. That’s one thing about Charise-- she never has to worry about anyone hating her for anything that’s happened to her, by choice or by fate. Meanwhile, if I so much as look at some people the wrong way, they want to yell at me.”

“So, you’re saying you think no one cares about you as a person?”

Ophelia shrugged. “It’s like… Charise can be a totally heartless b***h to S. She can ignore him, cancel on him, and hurt him… and he still loves her. I’d like to think that I’m a better person than she is, and yet, if I can’t even have a successful relationship, I can’t help but wonder if maybe I’m somehow lacking somewhere.”

Cy stroked Ophelia’s hair. “You are a good person,” she responded. “It’s just that the average person ignores substance, in favor of whatever cute guy or girl run into. They can’t be bothered to see that you’re brilliant, funny, sweet, caring, uniquely beautiful, and a strong and independent woman. And someday, when they finally get some sense into their heads, they’ll be kicking themselves for ignoring you.”

Ophelia shrugged. “I guess,” she replied, “but there’s only one person I’m interested in now.”

“Mae?”

“Nah. She’s cool and all, but not my type.”

“AJ?”

“Too flirty. Not reliable enough.”

“Emily?”

“No. I see her as being like a sister to me.”

Cy smiled and said, “Remember how I helped you all those years ago? It’s not just because we were friends. It’s because I had a huge crush on you.” She blushed vividly. “’Had.’ Who am I kidding?” she added, mocking herself. “I still do. But you probably already knew that. I figured you just didn’t feel the same and--”


She was cut off from her self-derision when Ophelia leapt off the bed and kissed her.

“I didn’t know,” Ophelia finally said, “and I wish I had.”

Memories flooded into her head. Cy, going with her to school dances, listening to her complaints, bringing books and tea over when she was sick, wiping away tears when Ophelia was upset or hurt, and always being a constant encouragement, even when things were roughest. She had treated Ophelia more kindly than anyone else had. How could Ophelia have not realized?

“So, what now?” Cy asked.

Ophelia smiled shyly and said, “Want to give the whole relationship nonsense a try and see how long it takes before we're at each other's throats?”

“Of course.”


The crash of thunder woke Emily up from her sleep. Urgh, she thought groggily. Hate storms. Maybe Ophelia’s still up.

She padded down the hall and peeked into Ophelia’s room. The bed was empty, and it showed no signs of having been slept in yet that night.

“She’s probably hanging out with Cy,” Emily muttered. “Ophelia hates thunder and lightning even more than I do.”

She walked downstairs and over to the guest bedroom, which was just off the living room. The door was half-open, and the lights were off. Emily peered into the room. Fast asleep in the bed were Cy and Ophelia. Emily tilted her head, confused slightly, then shrugged.

I guess everything’s going to be fine, she thought, walking back to her room.