The facts, as I can figure them out, are:
(1) Lilah and Jeff had been going out for a year.
(2) Shortly after their anniversary, Jeff decided it was going to be their last anniversary, and broke up with her.
(2a) Or, I should say, attempted to break up with her.
(3) Lilah did not take it well.
(4) Lilah tried to get him back.
(5) This failed.
(6) So Lilah decided to forward all the naked photos Jeff had sent her to any friend she had in her phone.
(6a) Some of these photos had other people in them.
(7) In retaliation, Jeff sent out the nudes Lilah had sent him.
(7a) Some of these photos had other people in them.
(8) Some of the boyfriends and girlfriends of the other people mentioned in (6a) and (7a) were not happy about this, and retaliated with more nude photos.
(9) It did not take long for someone at their school to realize that the student body was suddenly awash in photos of student bodies.
(9a) The chain was traced back to Lilah.
(10) She was put on probation, and her phone was taken away.
(11) She was also forbidden from seeing Jeff, who was also put on probation and, I assumed, forbidden from seeing her.
(12) According to what Lilah has said to some friends, Jeff felt so bad about everything and was so impressed by how upset his breakup had made her that he took her back and they’re now together.
(12a) But considering what some of Lilah’s other friends had to say to her about Jeff today (asshole, user, jerk, so glad that’s over, etc.), there’s certainly a contingent that thinks they’re still broken up.
There’s no way for me to ask Lilah for clarification—it was unhelpful enough to skim through her memories of Jeff. I learned much more about him anatomically than I did about him emotionally.
All of the drama happened last week, so I made it through the day by remaining pretty silent; there were so many people talking to her and about her that she herself didn’t have to contribute much more than a nod or two every now and then.
I am grateful that I wasn’t stuck in her body the day they discovered all the photos. The blowback a week later is still strong enough to feel. Her father can’t look her in the eye (although I can’t say for sure that he looked her in the eye before the photos got out there). But even with his eyes pointed toward the floor or ten feet over her head, he can still lay down the law. Which is how I’m forced to process Rhiannon’s post with his breath somewhere in the vicinity of my neck.
Say something.
A— You can interrupt me any time.
The first time I see it, my heart skips seven beats, then lands on all seven beats in quick succession.
She is writing to me.
Talking to me.
Telling me something.
I read it again. And again.
I play the song. Lilah’s father is now at the refrigerator, across from me. He pauses for a moment when the song comes on, looking confused. But he’d rather ignore his curiosity than have to engage with his daughter.
Give me a siiiiiiiign, the singer pleads.
I read the post again. And again.
A— You can interrupt me any time.
I look at the comments and the first one is from Alexander.
I will be interrupting you in exactly three seconds.
Then a comment from her.
Thank you for the interruption. Though my statement is still open.
Lilah’s father notices something on my face, and comes to see what I’m looking at. I quickly click to Lilah’s home page. Unfortunately, the first comment there is from a girl calling her a shamless slut.
“Report her,” Lilah’s father says, reading over my shoulder. He even leans over and clicks on the box that brings up the Report Post link.
“No,” I say instinctively. “That’ll only make it worse.”
He keeps his eyes on the screen as he says, “Well, you should have thought about that before, no?” Then he reports her. Only it’s Lilah reporting her, since it’s Lilah who’s signed in.
The comment disappears.
I’m sure Lilah would say I hate you! now, or something to that effect. But I don’t see the point. And after what happened to Moses, I’m wary of opening my mouth when I shouldn’t.
The one thing I know is that I’m not going to be able to respond to Rhiannon tonight. Not from this computer.
I go to erase the history of what I’ve looked at. But Lilah’s dad sees me and stops me with a fierce “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I say. “Habit.”
“I think your half hour is done early tonight,” he replies, turning off the screen. “If you need the computer for your homework, let me know, and we can resume. Social time is over.”
“C’mon, Dad!” I protest…but only because he’ll be suspicious if I don’t.
“Go to your room,” he says. His words don’t have the force of a command. It sounds like he’s sick of having to say them. And it’s only been a week.
I manage to complete Lilah’s homework without the computer. And late at night, I sneak out of my room and erase the history so Lilah will never have any connection to Rhiannon. I have to do it quickly, before her father catches me. I tell myself that’s why I don’t respond to Rhiannon immediately. But the truth is that I still don’t know what to say.
Comment from M:
You experience separation from your own body. I am in a different body every day.
Comment from Someone:
It’s not unusual to feel alienated by your own body, to feel that you don’t know it at all.
Comment from M:
I’m telling you—it’s impossible for you to understand. I am not talking in metaphors here.
Comment from AnarchyUKGo: