Dear Ava by Ilsa Madden-Mills
24
After retrieving my things from Arlington Dorm, I move into a closet-sized apartment Lou threw together for me over the diner. There’s a small bed, a tiny desk, and a bathroom that only has enough room for me to stand sideways, but it’s mine and rent-free.
In late October, I dye my hair blonde. Though the color isn’t quite the same, more bleached out than honey-colored, I start to look like me, even if my eyes are sad. On Halloween, I dress up as a nun and work the morning and lunch shift at Lou’s. He gives me side-eye and calls me Darth Vader but laughs. Tyler is Captain America, and after my shift, I take him trick-or-treating in Piper’s neighborhood. Even though I’m in Sugarwood, I don’t allow my thoughts to dwell on Knox or Camden. I have new goals, a new focus. I promised I’d let him go for both of us, and I’m trying. God, I’m trying so hard.
I take my GED and pass with high scores. My application to Vandy is rushed through and approved and lo and behold, by December a full scholarship is awarded to me, a special compensation for students with high SAT scores who live in the inner city. Mr. Grayson had to have pulled some heavy freaking strings.
I wave the letter I printed off from my email in Lou’s office. “I got it, Lou! It’s mine! January! I’ll be a freshman!”
He beams and sweeps me up in a full twirl while Rosemary tsks from behind the counter, where she’s thrown down an order for me to take out.
He even waggles his eyebrows at Sister Margaret, who’s been loitering in the foyer on her phone.
“Our Ava did it!” he tells her, and dang if he doesn’t give her a hug too. She’s stiff as a board and bats at him lightly.
“Balls. Lou is hugging Sister Margaret,” Tyler declares as he draws at a table.
A couple weeks after Thanksgiving, Piper tells me the Dragons didn’t win a state championship, but they came in second, and considering how awful their last season was and the fact that they lost one of their best players in Liam this year, she says the entire school is thrilled.
At the end of December, nearly four months after I left Camden, word comes from the DA that Liam accepted a plea deal instead of going to trial. His “trophies” were confiscated at his house, along with videos of the party no one had seen, specifically of him videoing me and murmuring he was going to get lucky. They also found a stash of cocaine and Rohypnol, a common date rape drug. His fingerprints were on the bottle, not Dane’s.
Piper told me she heard through the gossip mill that Liam did indeed say it was Dane, that he planned everything and helped him—just like Knox said he would. I lay awake at night and hope Dane’s doing okay, hope he’s recovering. I picture Knox by his side every step of the way, going to therapy with him, right there supporting him at school.
In addition to Dane’s recollection and testimony, Camilla came forward and told the police that Liam sexually assaulted her at his house freshman year. She couldn’t remember all the details, possibly drugged. Then a girl from another school stepped up. The Tennessean, the biggest paper in the state, ran a whole story detailing what happened to me and his arrest. Instead of risking the possibility of more years locked up, his lawyers encouraged him to take the guilty plea for my assault. He did and was sentenced to fifteen to twenty years, which my victim advocate said was rather steep considering he was a minor when the crime occurred. It’s not enough—never—but he’s gone for now, and that settles me.
By the time January rolls around, it’s truly a new year, and my beginning.
