FictionPress.com - let the words flow| FictionPress.com - let the words flow |
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
Through
the Glass
An
Original Fiction by Twitt
Click click click. The sounds of pencils and pens tapping against wooden desktops echoed through the room, the only sound present besides the impatient ticking of the clock at the head of the classroom. Ashley Clough sighed as she finished the last few questions on the exam, her stomach offering a grumbling protest in her choice to skip breakfast that morning. Slight pink tinged her cheeks as her neighbor peer glared at her for the small noise, and she shrugged slightly in apology. She quickly ducked her head back to her own paper with a scowl, her brain screaming at her stomach to stay quiet for the last moment before the lunch bell rang.
And ring it did. Several students jumped at the noise, others groaned in frustration, and Ashley sighed once more in relief. She finally could force her belly to keep silent once she gave it what it wanted – lunch.
Once she handed in her test and snagged her backpack, she quickly made her way to the cafeteria to stand in line for her own portion of the daily slop. Her status as a senior that year gave her rights to the shortest ‘Senior Line,’ and she milked the privilege for all it was worth.
Ashley smiled and chuckled when she saw her best friend, Lily Koch, frantically waving her arms at the entrance to the Senior Line, short brown hair bobbing as she bounced to catch Ashley’s attention. Of course, Ashley was not surprised to see Lily there in the least, as meeting her in line for food was their lunch custom.
“Hey, Ash!” Lily squealed. She was a little perkier than usual today… “Guess what, guess what, guess what!”
Translation: I have big news, probably to do with some boy I like.
Ashley’s pocket Lily-translator was dead on. Before she could even ask what, Lily began to babble like she did when she got drunk.
“Ohmygodyouhavetohearthis,” she sputtered, shaking clutched fists excitedly in front of her chest as she spoke. “Okay.” A deep breath. Translation: This will be long. “You know that I like Dylan Buckingham, right?” Ashley had no time to answer before Lily plunged further into her tale. “Okay. I have this huge crush on him, right? So, one of his friends came up to me – James (you know James, right? The short one with the messy black hair?) – and told me that Dylan liked me. Of course, I only thought it was a prank, knowing boys and all and how they like to play with girls’ minds. I hate it when they do that. Anyway, James comes up to me and tells me that Dylan likes me, and I’m like, ‘No way!’ and he’s like ‘Yes, he is!’ and I’m like ‘Ohmygawd, stop bullshitting me,’ and he’s like, ‘No, I’m serious!’ I didn’t believe him one bit still since I think he’s the sneakiest one out of the bunch, so I don’t get my hopes up in case he’s lying to me. Okay. After math class, I go to my locker to change out my books and a note falls out of my locker. Guess what the note said!” Lily squealed again, drowning out any possible answer Ashley could offer. “It said… Wait, I have it! Here, I’ll let you read it.”
Lily handed Ashley a crumpled piece of pink notepaper which read in very neat handwriting, “hay lily i think your hot would you go out with me. love dylan.” Lily giggled and clapped her hands, bouncing up and down more as Ashley read the note. Ashley bit her lip.
“Um, Lily… you know that Dylan is one of the best English students in our class, right?”
Lily stopped bouncing and clapping, a pensive look replacing the goofy smile. “He is, huh.” The smile returned. “So that means I get to go out with a hot and smart guy! Eeee!”
“Lily.” Ashley shook her head. “This note contains little semblance of proper grammar. And this doesn’t even look like Dylan’s handwriting – it’s too neat.”
The smile disappeared again, this time replaced with a glare. “Gimme that,” she snapped as she snatched the note back from Ashley’s hand. She read back over it again, still scowling, and then clutched it to her chest as she firmly stated, “You’re just jealous because he likes me instead of you.”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “Would you give it up already? I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but I think that’s just a joke letter. What would you wager that whoever wrote the note is standing nearby watching your reaction and laughing at you?”
Lily fell silent and looked hurt. Ashley did feel a little guilty for being so harsh about the note, but she didn’t want Lily to be hurt by some mean prankster. Lily’s image was important to her; she would be crushed if word of something like this circulated the popular crowd.
“Lily, look. I just don’t want someone to hurt you with a mean prank like that. You understand, don’t you?”
Lower lip protruding slightly in a pouting gesture, Lily nodded her head slowly. “Yeah, yeah, don’t go raining on my parade.”
Translation: My life is over.
Ashley sighed again. “I’m sorry.”
The lip retracted. “For what?”
“That someone would be so mean like that, to make you think that the guy you have a huge crush on really likes you back when he might not. It isn’t right.”
Lily snorted.
“Look, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I—”
“I know. I’m just a little disappointed, is all, you know?”
Ashley nodded, and then hugged Lily.
“Best friends?”
“Yeah. Best friends.”
“I’m still invited to your wedding, right?”
Lily giggled. “Only if I can come to yours!”
The foul mood dissipated as the pair picked up lunch and chatted about the supposed love scandal between the honors chemistry teacher and the special education director.
Ashley Clough-Buckingham pointed to a cardboard box full of glass figurines as she teetered on a stool, trying to reach the top shelf of the bookcase they’d just bought for their new family room. Their home.
“Sure, Ash, just let me finish putting these cans in the pantry,” Dylan replied.
The honeymoon in Cancun the previous week had caused them to delay the unpacking process a few days after they got back, but now that they both had work to get to, the time crunch was on. Not that they minded – spending the time together was definitely a plus. Ashley had never imagined that she would marry her high school peer, Dylan, but clearly Cupid had other plans. After randomly running into him at a convenience store just after her college graduation, they’d had coffee together to catch up. Coffee again, and then a date, and another, and before they knew it, they’d been dating for a year. He asked her to marry him on a beautiful summer’s evening, and they married a few months later.
The wedding was small, but it consisted of the people that meant most to the pair. James, who had gone to the University of Chicago with Dylan, was the best man. As promised, Lily was there to be the Maid of Honor for Ashley. Ashley was so distracted by the wedding that she hadn’t noticed Lily’s unusually dark mood at the ceremony.
Dylan appeared out of the walk-in pantry, a silly grin slapped onto his well-chiseled features as he carried the heavy glassware box to a table next to his wife’s stool. Ashley shrieked and then giggled as he purposely bumped the stool’s base with his toe on the way by.
“Dylan!”
“I would’ve caught you,” he replied with a wink.
“But you would’ve dropped the box!” she tried to scold him, but the smile just wouldn’t stay out of her voice.
He simply shrugged in reply as he unwrapped the glassware figurines from their paper encasings before handing them, piece by piece, up to his wife.
“You know, you could do this for me,” Ashley grinned seductively down at her husband.
Dylan chuckled. “I could…”
“But…”
The doorbell rang, and their golden retriever, Betsy, scampered into the room barking. Dylan grinned wickedly back up at Ashley. “I have to answer the door.”
Ashley tried to sound offended, dropping her jaw in false hurt as Dylan went to answer the call. As she heard her husband open the front door, she cautiously stepped down from the stool and bent down to hush the dog with a scratch on the head. Dylan was speaking in low tones with a couple of males at the front door – their low voices muffled by the wall between the kitchen and the entry hall.
“Wh-what?”
Ashley’s ears perked up at the sudden horror in her husband’s voice. He was in the other room, but she could tell he was clearly upset. She moved towards the living room to listen to the conversation, shushing Betsy when she whined for more attention. She couldn’t quite hear what the visitors were saying, at least until Dylan called for her.
“Ashley!” Dylan said shakily. “C-Could you… could you come here?”
Ashley’s heart pounded heavily in her chest as her imagination ran wild. She slowly entered the room only to gasp when she caught sight of the ‘visitors.’
“Ashley Buckingham?” the first police officer wanted to know. Ashley nodded tentatively, glancing back and forth between her paled husband and the police. “Your husband is under arrest…”
Ashley had not seen her husband for nearly two weeks. She had spoken with him on the phone, but he sounded tinny and worn over the tapped line. Two weeks without her new husband. It took the jail that long to process her data, and even longer to finally get to visit him. Nobody told her how to get ready for her visitation appointments; she’d never been in a situation like this before, and neither had any of her friends. How was she supposed to know that the officers would turn visitors away if they showed up at the time of their appointment? The half-an-hour-early requirement was news to her – she’d only discovered this rule when a kindly fellow visitor informed her. She thanked the woman and made another appointment (which, of course, wouldn’t be for another five days). The delay only made her more frustrated than before, and angry… at the jail system, at herself for not knowing the rules ahead of time, at Dylan for…
No. It wasn’t Dylan’s fault, and he wasn’t the violent animal that everyone else made him out to be. For her own sanity, she had to cling to that belief. He was innocent… wasn’t he?
It just didn’t make sense! Why would Lily do something like this to her?
She remembered then – Lily had liked Dylan in high school. Ashley thought she was over him, but apparently she wasn’t. Or maybe Dylan had taken advantage of her, some time in the week before they got married. The whole wedding party spent a lot of time on decorations and rehearsals, so it was possible. But if it had happened, why hadn’t Lily said something sooner, before the wedding? The thought hurt her mind; she didn’t want to think about it.
Ashley left the jail miserable, ready to burst into tears, and feeling very betrayed and alone. She did cry once she reached her car, and she nearly called a close friend to come drive her home. She didn’t. Somehow, she managed to make the drive home without incident, and she broke down into sobs again the instant she stepped inside the empty house.
Their house. The one they were supposed to raise a family in.
Ashley calmed herself down as she furiously brushed at the tears. Betsy nuzzled against her leg, and she rubbed the furry expanse between the dog’s ears as a distraction. Dylan loved that dog so much. Just looking at the golden retriever made her eyes sting with hot tears.
Why? Why did Lily have to say such things about her Dylan? Dylan would never dream of taking advantage of a woman!
But then, why hadn’t Dylan placed his plea yet? Ashley sobbed into her hands. If he wasn’t guilty, then they could take it to trial, and the truth would come out there, right? That’s what the court and judge and jury were for – they were to bring out the truth.
Dylan’s lawyer had seen him in the jail and was acting as the go-between for the couple when Dylan couldn’t call. The phone company that held the monopoly over the collect calls from the jail definitely knew how to make money, and Ashley couldn’t always keep up with the bills for the phone calls alone.
The charges had been made – Dylan was charged with the rape of Lily Koch, meaning that if he was found guilty by trial, he could face up to twenty years in state prison and have to register with the state as a sex offender. Ashley wasn’t sure if she could live with him if he was found guilty, even after his prison sentence.
She just didn’t know what to think. Lily, her supposed best friend, had ripped apart her newly-found life nearly overnight with this charge – why didn’t she say something before the wedding if it was a problem?
And yet Dylan hadn’t plead not guilty yet. What was taking him so long to make up his mind? His lawyer had been tight-lipped about the whole situation as well. Ashley grew frustrated and only sobbed harder, this time hugging the dog closer to her for comfort as she spilled salty tears into the golden fur.
Five days passed by slowly, and she finally managed to get in to see her husband. She’d avoided wearing any sort of metal (including any in undergarments or shoes) as she had been advised. The guards were notoriously strict on the rule. She made it to the jail half an hour before her appointment, went through the ID check, and then the metal detector, before she sat down in the waiting room. The other visitors filed in, quietly taking seats as they waited. Some had children, some were with friends, and a few brought books with them.
The remaining fifteen minutes passed slowly, and at long last, one of the guards took a place in the front of the waiting room to get the visitors’ attention. In a booming voice, he instructed those who were visiting in prison blocks X, Y, and Z to go to the left, and those visiting A, B, C to the right. Ashley looked at her slip of carbon paper with her information and Dylan’s cell block on it, and then followed the clump of people to the left. Her mind was hazy as she trudged along the paved path, through the many fences and doors it took to get to her husband’s cell block.
The inside of the building was bleak – a stark concrete wall lined with light grey-painted doors opening to visiting rooms. Ashley watched as others near her deposited their slips in the metal container near the main door, glass above it revealing several guards behind it. She followed suit, and her paper was returned after a few moments. She went to the indicated waiting room – number 5 – and shut the door behind her. She sat down in the plastic chair in front of a large glass panel, a telephone to her right. The glare from the lights made it difficult to see when Dylan was finally let into the room on the other side of the glass. They both picked up the phones on their side of the glass.
“Hey, honey,” Dylan said, his voice sounding choked and metallic over the line. Through the glass, she could barely make out the watery look in his dark-rimmed eyes. He wasn’t sleeping well.
“Dylan,” she whispered, reaching out to touch the glass in front of her. Dylan mirrored on the other side, a tear sliding down his cheek. She felt the sudden desire to feel his skin against hers, to feel the warmth of his touch again, and the fact that she couldn’t have that sickened her to the point where she thought she’d have to revisit her lunch. Swallowing hard, she asked, “Dylan, what happened?”
Dylan sighed, trying to keep his tears in check. She hadn’t seen him cry like this before.
“Honey, I… I have to tell you. I—I don’t care what they hear over the line.” He sniffed before continuing, “I did sleep with Lily.”
The words hit Ashley like a heavy-handed blow to her gut. A few tears squeezed from her eyes as she closed them.
“I… I was drunk, and she—she knew it. You know how I am when I get drunk, so easily convinced to do anything. Well, she had this ‘crazy’ idea to let me practice my wedding night moves on her to make sure I had them down.” Dylan’s voice cracked. “I’m so, so, so sorry…”
A rapid change took place in Ashley at that admission. She couldn’t quite describe the feeling later – it was like a sudden peace overtook her spirit, and she no longer felt anger towards her husband. It was as if the admission of what he had done and her overwhelming desire to just be with him overpowered any feelings of anger she would feel at the news.
“You didn’t rape her.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“No.” Dylan shook his head enthusiastically. “But my lawyer said that they’d use any… evidence from that night against me, and it might be enough with a sympathetic jury to convict me. The prosecution is offering me a deal if I plead guilty that could cut my sentence from anywhere around two to six years. That’s instead of twenty.” He paused. “But… I guess it wouldn’t matter since I’m sure you… well, now that you know about –”
“Dylan Roger Buckingham,” Ashley interrupted him. “I love you. I know what you did was wrong, and I’m not please with you one single bit about that… but you have to understand that I love you and I’m willing to forgive you.”
Dylan’s eyes grew wide with shock; he had not expected her response.
“Honey, I love you, and I want to be with you.” Ashley broke down into sobs as she continued. “I can’t imagine not spending the rest of my life without you.”
Dylan closed his eyes and began sobbing as well. They just sat there, minutes ticking away, just listening to each other pour out their love to each other through cleansing tears. Finally, Ashley managed to get a hold of herself, and Dylan cut back on his sobs as well. The rest of the time with him flew by in a haze, Ashley recalled later. They had cleared up a few details about the move, bills, the dog, and even spoke briefly on bail.
When the guard came to take Dylan back to his cell, Ashley pressed her palm up against the glass. Dylan smiled grimly as he spread his fingers and mirrored the gesture on his side of the panel. And for a moment – one that would stick with Ashley for a long time – she believed that she felt his warmth through the inch-thick glass. That one moment, that instant was enough for her to pull through. She felt another layer of peace settle over her as she left the jail, with one triumphant thought on her mind: no matter what happened from then on out, she and Dylan were closer than ever, the marriage no longer in danger.
Lily had failed.
Any comments, constructive criticisms, or suggestions are welcome. Thanks for reading!
