Nets and Lies

by Katie Ashley

  Somehow she, of all people, had seen through my lies. I’d been so convincing to everyone else, even the detectives.

  But not Jordan.

  With one expression, she saw through to my core and knew I had really been raped. Knowing that someone else knew the truth was emotionally crippling. I could only hope that because of Jordan’s reputation that no one would believe her, and they would continue believing my lies.

  When the bell rang, I silently rejoiced. I wanted nothing more than to get home and bury myself under the covers again. But when I got to my locker, Will was waiting on me. “Ready to go?”

  My brows furrowed. “Go where?”

  “To the Circle of course,” Will replied, giving me a funny look. The Circle was a spot in the athletic park below school where our gang of friends hung out. The gang was comprised of juniors and seniors, athletes and non-athletes. It didn’t matter if it was warm weather or cold. With tail gates lowered and hatch backs raised, we would lounge around listening to music and talking.

  But today when Will and I got there, it was different. An unspeakable tension hung around us, strangling our usual free flowing conversation. Plus, the very reason we were able to meet at this time of day was because Varsity basketball practice had been canceled—even the guys’. The coaches were spending an afternoon in meetings trying to sort out what was going to happen in Coach T’s absence.

  We shivered and huddled together in the winter cold. Finally, JT snorted exasperatedly. “Dude, this is bullshit!”

  Will raised his head. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, we’re all sitting here like somebody died over some rumor that bitch of a skank started!”

  “Stop talking shit, JT,” Lauren warned.

  “I’m not talking shit. I’m stating facts,” he argued.

  Lauren tossed her strawberry blond hair over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows. “Oh really? Well, it sure sounds like shit to me. We’re sitting here like somebody died because they did. Coach T’s reputation and possibly his career.”

  “Lauren!” Breanna Perkins snapped. She jerked her blonde head towards Will and me. At the mention of his dad, Will stiffened at my side. I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

  Lauren’s face turned the color of her hair. “I’m sorry guys,” she mumbled.

  JT patted her on the back before glancing around at the rest of us. “Look, she’s right in a way. I mean, we gotta man up here. Coach T is innocent. There ain’t no way in hell he would’ve raped Jordan or…” He refused to meet my gaze. “Or anyone else for that matter.”

  His words stung me. My parents hadn’t challenged the idea and now my friends weren’t either. Kids I’d known for years, even my best friend, jumped to Coach T’s defense without even a second thought. But in the end, I had done the same thing, hadn’t I?

  Breanna nodded. “JT’s right. Just because they’re accusing him doesn’t mean he’s going to jail. I mean, he’s bound to be found innocent once we all testify.”

  Once they all testified…once they all unified together against me—against any of the truth I still harbored deep within me. My chest ached at the thought. I fought the urge to stand up and scream, “It’s the truth dammit! He really raped me, and you can all go to Hell for not believing it!”

  But I didn’t.

  Instead, Kara Ridings stood up to drive another nail into my coffin of truth. “I’ve known Coach T since middle school travel ball, and he’s never looked at me or touched me in any way that wasn’t totally appropriate!”

  JT and Paul Jacobs grinned at each other. “Thank you, Kara. Save it for the detectives okay?” JT said.

  She laughed. “Well, I was just saying, you know, that he’s totally innocent.”

  “Seems like I remember a time when you and Jordan were BFFs,” Lauren mused.

  Kara rolled her eyes. “Please don’t remind me!” She kicked a loose pebble with her shoe before climbing back on JT’s truck bed. “Besides, that was before she was a sleazebag ho.”

  “She dated your brother, too, didn’t she?” Breanna asked.

  “Ugh, yes, on and off for like two years. Why, I don’t know. Carson is the biggest asshole I know!”

  Paul nodded his perfectly coiffed Afro while JT snorted. “Yeah, he is a pretty big asshole.”

  Through all the affirmations for his dad, Will remained silent. He stroked wide circles with his finger on my palm. I pulled my hand away and took his hand in mine. “It’ll be fine,” I murmured. I said it more for my own benefit than for his.

  He stared into my eyes for an eternity before he finally smiled. “Yeah, I hope so.”

  Paul stood up. “Well, I say we do something besides sitting around on our asses.”

  Kara and Breanna exchanged glances. “And just what did you have in mind?” Breanna asked.

  Paul shrugged. “I dunno. Something like a protest—you know, like in the 60’s.”

  “Like a Coach T rally?” Kara asked.

  JT nodded slowly before grinning. “Dude, that sounds like a hell of an idea!”

  Through the hair shrouding my face, I peeked over at Will. His face lightened up instantly at the idea of a supportive rally for his dad.

  “Okay, ace, where would we do it?” Lauren questioned.

  “Like here at the school?” Paul suggested.

  “Nah…” JT murmured.

  Everyone fell silent for a minute then Paul snapped his fingers. “We could do it in front of the jail!”

  I gasped. “The jail?”

  He nodded as a big grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I mean, he hasn’t gotten bonded out yet. And maybe he could hear us!”

  It took a moment for it to sink in with everyone, but then they began talking at once.

  “I bet we could get the news to come.”

  “We could start it at the school and drive in a caravan.”

  “And have posters and signs.”

  “I know my mom and dad would be in on it.”

  The voices blended around us like a hornet’s nest of activity. Will squeezed my hand. His deep brown eyes had the first flicker of light in them since his dad had been arrested. It didn’t matter how I felt that all my friends were organizing a protest in my rapist’s honor. No, those thoughts were the farthest things from my mind. As long as Will was okay, I was okay.

  ***

  By the next morning, word of the protest had grown to a frenzy. Once the booster club found out about it, they’d enacted the phone chain—the one usually only used in case of snow days or deaths in the family. It was truly something to behold. Every parent of a player had been called and sworn their allegiance to help in any way. Paul’s dad even called all the local news stations and the newspapers.

  Lauren organized a banner painting that afternoon after practice. Her mom and Breanna’s mom were raiding Home Depot for paint, brushes, and signs while we were at school. Several other parents offered to buy pizza and drinks for all the workers. It sounded like it was going to be a fun time—at least whatever fun was supposed to be now, after everything that had happened to me.

  That afternoon as I ran out of the locker room, my dad’s partner, Garrison Michaels, stood outside the door, briefcase in hand. When he saw me, he stepped forward. “Melanie, we need to talk,” he said sternly.

  Lauren and Kara glanced at me before they ran to meet Coach Simms at half court. “Um, okay.”

  As I looked around for somewhere private, Garrison motioned to Coach T’s office. “How about there?”

  My stomach churned at the thought of being closed into the scene of the crime. But I managed to bob my head and follow Garrison. The moment the door closed behind us, tiny beads of sweat popped out on my forehead. The room never seemed so small, and I had to fight to keep breathing.

  “Maybe you should sit down?” he suggested, motioning at the futon.

  I stared at it in horror before turning my back to it. I took my anger out on Garrison by shooting him a seething look. Not only was I pisse
d that he had shown up at school, but I also didn’t like his tone. “No, I’m fine. What is it?”

  “I’m sorry I had to interrupt your practice like this, but we’ve got to set up a time to take your deposition.”

  “Oh, that.”

  Garrison nodded. “I wanted to try to give you some time to process everything that had happened. Since I was already here speaking to Dr. Micheltree, I thought I would catch you.”

  “When do you need me to do it?”

  “As soon as possible. How about this evening after practice?”

  I shook my head. “Tonight’s really not a good time. You see I’m supposed to go help paint banners and signs for the protest we’re having.”

  Garrison’s expression darkened. “Yes, I heard about the protest.”

  “Can’t I do it another time?”

  He shook his head. “Melanie, there’s another reason why I’m here besides the deposition. Earlier today, the DA brought forward some evidence in the case against Mark Thompson.”

  I fought hard not to pass out. “What kind of evidence?”

  Garrison glanced down at his shoes. “Let’s just say it’s of a physical kind pertaining to Ms. Solano’s case.”

  “Oh, I see,” I replied, trying to hide my relief that they didn’t have anything connected to me.

  Clearing his throat, Garrison met my expectant gaze. “After hearing the evidence, your father and I feel it would be in your best interest not to attend the rally tomorrow.”

  “But why? You said the evidence belonged to Jordan’s case, not mine. Coach T didn’t do anything to me so why can’t I go?”

  “Melanie, when this evidence comes to light, it will prove without a shadow of a doubt that Mark Thompson was intimate with Jordan Solano—”

  I gasped. So Jordan had been telling the truth when she admitted the affair to me in the bathroom. She really had slept with Coach T.

  “Now whether it comes to pass that it was rape or consensual, we don’t know right now. Because of what all that means to Mark Thompson’s reputation, your father and I do not feel you should attend the protest.”

  “But I’m dating Coach T’s son. Doesn’t that already sully my reputation?”

  Garrison sighed. “I’m sorry. That’s our professional counsel.”

  “So does that mean I’m not supposed to go to the banner painting either?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  I threw up my hands. “I can’t believe this!”

  “Once again, I’m very sorry, Melanie. Perhaps it would have been better coming from your father.”

  “Whatever,” I grumbled.

  “Listen, I’ll come by your house later this evening to take your statement.”

  “Fine.” I brushed past him and ran out to the court. Coach Simms didn’t bother riding me about being late. There would be no suicides for me since I was excused. But I hated being an exception. I would have rather taken the punishment and run until I puked.

  Dread hovered over me at practice. I kept eyeing the scoreboard, waiting for Will to arrive for the boys’ practice. It was the worst scrimmage of my entire career. I continuously missed shots and couldn’t even connect with my teammates to see the ball down the court.

  Finally, Coach Simms blew the whistle. “Reeves, over here!”

  I pushed my sweat soaked bangs off of my forehead and trotted over to her. “Yeah, Coach?”

  She stared me down. “Melanie, I’ve been making an exception for you because of what happened—”

  I held up my hand to silence her. “You don’t have to say anything. I suck today, but I would rather you call me out than let me ride on what I was doing because of what’s going on.”

  Coach Simms pursed her lips and nodded. “All right then. Point taken. Here’s what I think. You’re done for the day. Go ahead and change. Make sure when you come back tomorrow that your head is outta your butt and on straight. Got it?”

  I nodded. “Yes, Coach.”

  She smiled and then turned her back to me, giving her attention to the team—the ones who weren’t total failures. I sprinted off the court into the locker room. I didn’t change. Instead, I grabbed up my stuff and went outside to wait on Will.

  I pushed through the double doors to find him and some of the guys sitting on a truck tailgate in the parking lot. The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up. He hopped down and jogged over to me.

  “Hey beautiful,” he said, planting a quick kiss on my lips.

  “Hi,” I said, my voice choked into a whisper.

  He raised his eyebrows. “What’s wrong? Is practice already over?”

  I glanced past him to the guys talking and joking at the truck. “Um, no, it’s not.” I bit my lip. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Will led me around the side of the gym where we were alone. “What’s wrong?”

  “Garrison met me as I was coming out of the locker room.”

  “Oh?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Will.”

  He reached out for me, his hands rubbing my arms. “It’s all right, Mel. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

  “He says that I can’t go to the protest tomorrow afternoon.”

  Will snatched his hands off me. “What? Why would he say something like that?”

  I ducked my head. I didn’t know how I was going to tell him about the evidence with Jordan. Stammering, I said, “H-He said t-there was some new evidence, and that because of all that I couldn’t go.”

  “What kind of evidence?” Will demanded.

  “Physical evidence tying Jordan and your dad together.”

  Will made a choking noise. “Are you serious?”

  I nodded. “He wouldn’t tell me exactly what it was, but he promised it would prove they had been…together.”

  For a moment, Will stood frozen like a statue. He didn’t even blink. Tentatively, I reached out and took his hands in mine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to have to tell you.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’d rather hear it from you than someone else.” His eyes were a mixture of sadness and anger. “I just can’t believe that there’s some alleged evidence, and he was really with her. He swore to Mom and me he hadn’t been with her.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I murmured, squeezing his hands.

  Will’s dark eyes flashed for a moment, and his emotions turned over like flicking a switch. “Well, you’re not going to listen to Garrison, right?”

  Who was he kidding? In our entire relationship, I’d never stood up to an authority figure. It was probably one of the reasons I refused to stand up to Coach T about what he’d done. Finally I found my voice. “What do you mean?”

  He leaned closer to me. “I mean, you’re still coming to the rally, right?”

  I stared pleadingly into his face. I didn’t like how his emotions were yo-yoing out of control, but more than anything, I didn’t like the hostility he directed at me. “Will, I just told you what Garrison said—”

  “Yeah, and it’s bullshit!” he snapped.

  “No, it isn’t,” I countered softly.

  Will raked his hand through his hair before he turned back to me. “Fuck whatever evidence they have. There’s no way in hell my dad would rape anybody. Okay, so he might have screwed Jordan, and because of that, he had to lie to my mom and me about it. But no matter what, I know he didn’t rape her.”

  There’s no way in hell my dad would rape anybody. Those words stung me, and I fought to find my breath. When I didn’t respond, Will grabbed me by the shoulders. “You’re my girlfriend, Mel. I need you to support me and my dad.”

  “I want to be there, but I have to do what my dad and Garrison says.”

  “Look, I want you there at the rally with me tomorrow.” His voice had a hardened edge to it, one like I’d never heard before, and it caused me to flinch.

  “I’ve told you I can’t. Why can’t you understand?”

  He shook his head. “D
on’t you see? If you’re not there, everyone is going to think something is up. If they hear about the evidence and then not see you there, they’re going to think all the rape rumors are true.”

  “No, they won’t.”

  “Yes, they will.” Even though he glared at me, I could see the tears shimmering in eyes. “Don’t you want to be with me? Don’t you want to support me?”

  I fought the urge to shake him. I wanted to scream, “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you even know what I’m putting myself through for you and for us? Not to mention lying about your precious rapist of a father!”

  Instead, I answered meekly, “Of course I do.”

  “Then come to the protest,” he demanded.

  “Maybe I can talk to my dad...”

  “Fine.” He started past me, but I grabbed his arm.

  “Will, please.”

  “I can’t talk about this anymore, Melanie.” He sighed. “And frankly, I can’t be with someone who doesn’t love me enough to stand up to her lawyer.”

  No, no, no! It wasn’t possible he was giving me an ultimatum. Not after everything. And with his final words, he turned his back and stalked off toward the gym. I, on the other hand, remained rooted where I stood. My chest heaved, and I didn’t bother fighting the sobs. They rolled through my chest with such force I had to brace myself against the building for support. But it became too much, and I slowly slid down the wall onto the cold concrete.

  ***

  To say I was in a foul mood after practice would be a mild understatement. I refused to talk to anyone at dinner. Because of the way I’d reacted earlier, Garrison and Dad decided it would be better to wait until Friday to do my deposition. It was a good thing because I bolted from the table before anyone was finished. After escaping to my room, I changed into my pajamas and then pulled the covers over my head, trying to drown out the world. Everything was falling apart, and I didn’t have the strength to pick up the pieces.

  I was almost asleep when Mom rapped on my door. “What?” I demanded.