Elijah is upset at first to find me snooping in his things, but I manage to talk him down. I told him I didn’t mean to go through his stuff, which was a lie. I didn’t mean toget caughtgoing through his stuff. My curiosity taunts me while I'm alone in his apartment. I look for his portfolio and find it under his bed. Later, I tell him that I was curious to see what else he had taken for the competition. That's also a lie. I want to see if he has any more photos of Nikki.
I'm pleased when I don’t find another picture of Nikki. But my heart catches when I find an old photo of myself, a close-up of my face from the last summer we saw each other. I don’t know how Elijah got it. I took it myself using my father’s camera.
I took it.
Distressed by my discovery, I make excuses and return to my apartment after Elijah finds me. I have to talk to my father. Elijah doesn't have the answers I need, but my father will. Alone in my bedroom with the door shut, my foot bounces as I wait for father to answer his phone.
I dive straight into the conversation. “What happened that summer? The last summer I saw Elijah Harlow.”
“Why do you want to know?" His tone is flat. "It’s in the past.”
I take a breath. “He’s here at Wakehurst."
“Have you seen him?” he asks. His voice sounds panicked, almost breathless. My father never loses his cool.
“Yes.”
“Olivia, I don’t want you near that boy," he continues. "He’s troubled. Stay away. In fact, I’ll drive there. I'll be there in the morning.”
“No, you don’t need to come here." I speak firmly.
"Olivia, I'll leave in the morning. Stay in your apartment." He pauses. "Has he seen you?"
I don't answer his question. "I need you to tell me the truth, Dad. Did I have anything to do with him being sent away?”
My father loses all composure as he shouts into the phone. “I told you he’s a sick boy.”
“No, he isn't. He was a sweet boy, and now he’s damaged because of something that happened to him. What did I have to do with it? Tell me, or I’ll ask him.”
“Olivia, don't." The pause is longer this time, but I wait patiently for dad to find the courage to speak. "He touched you in a way he shouldn’t have."
“He never touched me," I reply. "Not in a bad way. Not in a sexual way.”
“You were too young to know.” My father's voice chokes, and I hear how much the memories have also hurt him.
“I know what sex is," I almost shout. "He never touched me like that."
“We found pictures," he replies. Dad never wanted to have to tell me about the pictures, but today, I knew. And that’s why I had to leave Elijah’s apartment.
The memory slams into me giving my brain a jolt. Dad had gotten a new camera, a small digital in cherry red. I wanted it because I thought it was a cute color. I kept taking it without his permission. I experimented with the timer while I was bored and alone, and Elijah was off somewhere with his mother. I took pictures of myself that I thought he’d like, that I foolishly thought made me look sexy and older. I was going to print them and give them to him, but I never got the chance.
I sob.“I took those pictures of myself. He said I was too young, and I wanted to prove I wasn’t. Oh my god, he was sent away for that?”[6]
My father doesn’t answer.
“He wouldn’t touch me." My misery overshadows my shame. "He said I was too young.”
“Olivia, youweretoo young," replies dad, "and you have things confused."
He doesn’t have a chance to finish the thought. “Don’t come,” I tell him. "It won’t help."
“Olivia?"
“I’ll come home, and we’ll talk,” I tell him sternly. “I know who took those pictures, and it was me. You coming here won’t change that fact,” I sob. “Oh, I wish I had known.”
I didn’t go to class that day. I dug deeper into my memories, trying to figure out what exactly happened. His mother sold the vacation house the next year, and an older couple bought it. If this is true, it makes sense now why I didn’t see him again.
***