The Writing Retreat(52)

I crossed my legs, leaning sideways against the seat back. “How do you mean?”

“Well.” Taylor shrugged. “All the channeling stuff. Was she making it up? Or did she really believe it?”

“It was real. I mean, to Daphne.”

“So she was delusional? Or do you believe in Lamia too?”

I laughed. “That’s a good question. In the book I play it straight: that Lamia is real, that she exists. That she’s not just some figment of Daphne’s imagination. And you know, Lamia is real in a sense. She was in the Greek myths, this woman who turned into a monster after Hera forced her to eat her own children.”

“That’s dark,” Taylor said.

“Yeah. One of the books I looked at theorized that Daphne must’ve read about Lamia and connected with her because they were both childless and ostracized. When Daphne channeled Lamia, she was actually tapping into an unconscious and unacceptable part of her own self.”

“That’s an interesting theory.” Taylor tilted her head.

“It is. But… I’m not sure if it’s the full story. Part of me’s satisfied with that explanation, and part of me’s not. I don’t know if I believe in female demons, necessarily. But you heard what happened to me in the woods. That thing—whatever it is—was there.”

“So you think there may have been something supernatural going on.”

“Maybe.” I felt a tinge of embarrassment admitting this.

“Fair enough.” Taylor nodded. “I was curious because I’ve heard that old-timey spiritualism was all just a way for women to gain power. Which is pretty fucked-up. That in order to have a voice they had to pretend to channel someone else’s.”

“I know.” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t imagine living back then.”

Taylor stared at the ground, brooding. “I’m not convinced all that much has changed.”

“No?”

“In some ways it has. I mean, when I was teaching in Austin it made me so relieved that my kids felt comfortable being gay or trans or whatever—and their parents were okay with it! Obviously, that’s not true everywhere. But it was awesome. And just so different from what I experienced.”

“What were you like in school?” I grinned. “You must’ve been cute.”

“I was awkward as hell.” She laughed. “I was also super Christian, if you can believe it.”

“Really.” I raised an eyebrow. “I was not expecting that.”

“Yep. All the way through high school. My main hang was with my church youth group. We’d go on these camping trips, and we’d sit around the fire and confess our sins. I always thought it was ridiculous that the boys would confess having ‘unclean thoughts,’ but the girls never did. I was already interested in girls but I just kept it all in and felt extremely guilty.”

“That sounds tough.” Mom had made my life difficult in a lot of ways, but one thing I could be grateful for was that she’d never shoved any religious rules down my throat.

“And here’s the rub.” Taylor wrapped her hands around her knees, a faraway look in her eyes. “When I was a senior, it came out that our youth pastor had been sleeping with a junior for at least a year. I remember we were all surprised because she wasn’t even that pretty. And then everyone got mad at her. Him, too, obviously. He and his wife moved to another state. The age of consent was seventeen, so he hadn’t done anything illegal. But this poor girl, Holly, she had to just deal with it. Everyone hated her guts, students and parents. She was the ugly whore who had somehow seduced him. And that was the thing that really shook me out of my religious fervor. I woke up and realized I’d been brainwashed. I was like: What the fuck are we doing? Why do we always have to take the blame?”

“That’s messed up.”

Taylor’s face was drawn. She looked different, older, without her ubiquitous smile. “The saddest part is that she died by suicide. It was a year later, her senior year. Her parents found her in her closet. Apparently the online bullying just never stopped.”

“Oh, no.” My chest squeezed. “That’s so sad.”

“I know.” Taylor cleared her throat. “Speaking of bullying, I actually came in here to tell you something. It’s about Wren.” She raised her eyes. “I heard her and Roza in the kitchen yesterday. Wren was talking about you.”

“What’d she say?”

Taylor sucked on the inside of her cheek. “That you were obsessed with her for years. That she thought about taking out a restraining order on you multiple times. Especially after…” She looked down. “Especially after you pushed her off the steps at that party.”

I exhaled, feeling suddenly dizzy and confused. So Wren had known my ugly intention on the steps this entire time? Or was she just saying it to Roza to make me look bad, not realizing it was kind of true?

“I know she’s lying.” Taylor shrugged. “But you might want to make sure Roza knows.”

Oh, Roza knew.

“Thanks for telling me,” I said. “I appreciate that. And it feels good to know you have my back.”

“No problem.” Taylor scrunched her nose. “I hate mean girls.”