by Katie Ashley
“Hmm, I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not.”
“Coming from me, you really should.”
Nick leaned forward. “And just how do you see me, Jordan?”
“You’re all rough around the edges and hard core, but you’re much more than that. You’ve got such a tender side and a good heart. I mean, like the way you’re around Mrs. Santoriello.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Oh whatever. She’s a sweet old lady. Anyone would want to be nice and do things for her.”
I shook my head. “No, they wouldn’t, especially most guys.” Staring down at my hands, I added, “I’m not even sure I really would.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yeah, it is. You don’t know the real me, Nick. And trust me, if you did, you wouldn’t like her cause most days I don’t.”
Nick extinguished his cigarette on the pavement and then turned to stare into my eyes. “Jo-Jo, we’ve already established I was a homeless drug addict a year ago. You want more of my sad story to convince you that you’re a saint? My mom left home when I was eight because my dad used to beat the hell out of her. Then I guess the crazy bastard felt guilty because he started drinking more and more until he literally drank himself to death two years later. Then I pinged around to several different foster homes, two of which were pretty much the bowels of Hell.”
His voice choked off, and he shook his head. “I’ve done horrible things to get drugs and booze—things that make me shudder just thinking about. So trust me, I’m sure there isn’t anything you could say that would make me hate you.”
Tears filled my eyes. Before I could stop myself, I reached over and wrapped my arms around him. “I’m so sorry, Nick,” I murmured into his ear. “You shouldn’t have had to go through all that.”
When I pulled away, he forced a small smile to his lips. “I’m not after your pity—just your friendship.”
I knew he had just unburdened himself with something really heinous, and the only way to level the playing field would be for me to share my story. I started trembling all over at the thought of finally coming clean with him. Hearing about what had happened to Melanie made me want to tell the truth now more than ever. I didn’t want to be like her—to have lies drive me crazy until I broke in two. But I feared that Nick would hate me for messing up a man’s life.
I stared down at the pavement. “Nick?”
“Hmm?”
“I-I want to tell you my story.”
When I glanced up, he was staring intently at me. “Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“Okay,” he said, as he took one of my hands in his.
I drew in a deep breath and let it all out. First, I told him how my dad had walked out when I was five. Then I told him about Carson beating me and the abortion I had a fifteen. Finally, I admitted my affair with Coach T and how I’d lied about being raped to punish him.
After I finished with every sordid and disgusting detail, my chest felt like it might cave in.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. I fought the mortification that I’d actually admitted what I’d done. Rocking back and forth, I glanced at Nick to survey his reaction.
“Damn,” he murmured.
Oh God. He hated me. I’d told him the truth, and now he hated me just like everyone else. I sprang up from the ground. “Jordan, wait!” he cried. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back down beside him. When I dared myself to look at him, I found instead of the horror stricken look I imagined Nick’s expression was one of understanding. “Regardless of what you’re imagining in that head of yours, I don’t hate you.”
“You don’t.”
He shook his head. “I just needed a minute to process what all you told me.”
“And?”
“I won’t lie and say I’m not shocked because I am.” He pushed a strand of hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear. “It’s hard for me to fathom the Jordan standing before me would do something so awful and so hurtful.”
Tears stung my eyes. “I know,” I murmured.
“But that’s the old you, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then we can bury the Old Nick and Old Jordan.”
“I want too. I really do,” I cried.
“And you will.” He gave me an encouraging smile. “I am so grateful to you for opening up to me and owning your mistakes. That took a lot of courage.”
“I don’t feel courageous.”
“No, I’m sure you feel disgusted about what you did.”
I nodded.
“And that’s how I feel when I think about who I used to be.” He took my hand in his. “But I’m not that person anymore, Jordan, and neither are you. We were human, and we made mistakes.”
I snorted. “Yeah, well, I think the affair was a little more than a mistake!”
“Maybe it was, and maybe it wasn’t. I mean, it doesn’t really matter the logistics of how you fuck up your life. It’s what you do to change it.”
I cocked my head and soaked in his wisdom. Nick was only nineteen, but sometimes he talked like he was ninety.
He surveyed my expression before he continued. “Take Maya Angelou. She was even the madam of a whorehouse, but look at what she did with her life.”
“She was?”
“Yep, she sure as hell was.”
“Hmm,” I murmured.
“Sometimes the shit we go through does have a purpose. If we’re truly honest with ourselves, we can use that purpose to change our life for the better, not the worse.” He arched his eyebrows at me. “We’ve established the old you is dead. What’s a way you can change your life?”
“The affair? But how can I possibly take that back?”
He shook his head. “No, not the actual affair. I’m talking about the accusation you made against this coach.”
“Oh,” I murmured.
“You can take it back, you know.”
“I know. I’ve wanted to for so long. But…”
“You’re afraid of admitting you lied.”
“No, it’s not that,” I said, and then I told him about what had happened to Melanie. “I guess it’s I’m afraid of what will happen after I tell the truth.”
“It’s okay to be afraid, Jo-Jo. But you’ve got to look at it this way. Do you want to live the rest of your life wondering how things would have been different if you made it right?”
There was such truth in his words. I didn’t want to wake up someday ten years down the road and realize it all could have been better because of my choices. What was the old adage “the truth shall set you free?” Maybe it could.
“No, I don’t,” I whispered.
He reached over and squeezed my hand. “Then make it right.”
I smiled at him. “You really are amazing, did you know that?”
Nick raised his eyebrows and lit another cigarette. “You think so?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”
He grinned. “Then that makes two of us.”
Laughing, I nudged him playfully. “There you go being an egomaniac again.” When I looked up at him, he grew serious.
“All joking aside, Jordan, I really appreciate what you just said. I’ve never had a girl tell me I was amazing.”
“Let me guess, except in bed?”
A small smile crept on his lips. “Well, maybe.” He took a long drag on the cigarette. “But I mean it. Just like you feel trapped by who you were, that’s how I feel too. Girls usually never take the chance to see me like you have. And the ones that do wanna give me a chance aren’t the right kind of girls.”
I shook my head. “Yeah, well, in case you missed it, I’m not the right kinda girl.”
“You will be. It’s all about what you chose to do with your purpose, remember?”
Maybe he was right, and I really could turn over a new leaf. Of course, it seemed like the cards were already stacked against me. I had eighteen years of man-bashing, boozing, and narcissism engrained in me
by my mother. How would it be possible I could change all that?
“Even kids from good homes go bad, Jordan.”
My eyes widened. “Okay, you’re starting to freak me out the way you’re reading my mind.”
“You’re easy to read.”
“Nope, I’m just easy.”
Nick took my hand in his. “Stop doing that. I won’t let you run yourself down anymore, you got that?”
The intensity of his stare made me tremble. It unfortunately also made me tingle with longing. “Okay, I’ll try not to.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.”
I eyed my watch. “Wow, it’s already after one. We better hurry up and lock up.”
He nodded and put out his cigarette. “So do you have to work tomorrow night?”
My heartbeat raced in my chest. “Um, no. Do you?”
“Nope.” He ducked his head, and I could tell he was nervous about something. I bit my lip to keep from smiling. Mr. Ex-Junkie turned Wise Sage wanted to ask me out but couldn’t get up the courage. Finally, he lifted his head. “You wanna hang out with me tomorrow night?”
I smiled. “Yeah, that sounds good. What did you have in mind?”
“Well, we’ve got this really cool service going on at church—”
My mouth fell open. “You want to take me to church? On a Saturday night?”
He nodded. “I think you’d really like it.”
I fought the urge to laugh in his face. Church and I had never mixed. Even now at Saint Catherine’s I went through the motions when we had benediction. But something about Nick’s face made me want to give it a try. “Okay, I’ll go.”
A wide grin spread across his face, and I felt my heart flutter in my chest.
The night after talking with Dr. Leighton was the first night I fell asleep without a shot. But it wasn’t a restful sleep. I wish I could say it was because I was no longer tripping on pain medicine, but it was because I dreamed of nothing but Will.
I saw his face as clearly as if he were right in front of me. His dark eyes, his wavy brown hair, the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. And he was always smiling in the dream. We both were. It was so vivid I could feel his touch as we walked hand in hand. His smooth fingers gliding over mine, intertwining as he brought his lips to mine.
Just as we began kissing intently, I began to wake up. No, not now! I pinched my eyes shut, unwilling to release myself from the dream. It was still so real I could smell his cologne. “Will,” I moaned.
A sound in the room caused my eyes to snap open. They darted frantically around until I saw a shadowy figure in the chair beside me. I gasped.
“Will?”
He leaned forward. In the faint bedside light, I could see tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Is it really you? Am I still dreaming?” I asked, reaching out my hand. I didn’t believe it until my fingers touched his.
“No, it’s me,” he whispered.
I shook my head. “I’ve dreamed about you all night. I-I’ve missed you so much.”
He didn’t respond.
“I-I’m sorry, Will. I’m so, so sorry!” I cried.
At my apology, his head snapped up. He was at the bed in an instant, grabbing me into his arms. “Don’t you dare say that! You have nothing to be sorry for!”
For the first time since being in the hospital, I felt safe. I wrapped my arms around Will’s back and squeezed until I thought I couldn’t breathe. When he started to pull away, I grabbed him. “No! No, please don’t stop. Please, just hold me,” I begged.
He nodded. Slipping off his boots, he climbed into the bed beside me and gathered me into his arms.
And then I lost it. Sobs shook my body as my tears soaked through his shirt. “Shh, don’t cry, Mel. Please don’t cry,” he murmured in my ear.
“I thought I’d lost you,” I said, my voice muffled in his neck. He hadn’t shaved, and the stubble felt rough against my cheek.
“No, you’ll never lose me,” he replied.
I stared up into his face. “But why haven’t you been to see me?”
Will refused to meet my gaze. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me.”
“How could you think that? You’re everything to me!” I protested.
Tears spilled over his cheeks. “But I was afraid that every time you looked at me, you’d think of him and what he did to you.”
“No, you’re wrong. I don’t think that at all, Will. When you weren’t here…” I shuddered. “I didn’t want to live anymore.”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “Don’t say that, Mel. You have so much to live for besides me!” he argued. “Besides, if you took your life, then that bastard would have taken everything from me!”
Somehow I found the courage to ask the question I was dying to know. “Does he know what happened to me?” But what I really wanted to ask was if Coach T knew I’d told the truth.
Will understood what I meant. “Yes, he knows.”
I closed my eyes. “What did he say?”
“Mel…”
“Please, Will, I want to know.”
He drew in a ragged breath. “He called you a lying bitch. He told me you’d come on to him—that you’d told him you’d always loved him…”
My voice was barely a whisper. “What else?”
“No,” he countered. “It’s too awful.” When I continued staring intently at him, Will sighed. “He said you begged him to be your first—that you wanted to be with a real man, not me.”
Instead of Will’s voice, I heard Coach T’s ringing in my ear, “Will’s just a boy. You need a man to teach you about love.” My hand flew to my mouth. Then I raced from the bed. I made it to the toilet just in time to throw up. Over and over I heaved. It was like a bad deja vu moment of the last time Will and I had been together.
Just like before, he was at my side. But this time was different. This was a different Will—a broken and defeated one. After I rinsed my mouth, his haunted eyes met mine in the mirror. “Why, Mel? Why did you make me tell you that?” He shook his head. “I can’t be with you if I’m only going to cause you pain!”
I turned around to face him. “No, you had to tell me. There can’t be anymore secrets between us.”
His face paled. “There’s something I need to tell you. And after I say it, you may not want to be with me anymore.”
My heart shuddered to a stop in my chest. “W-What are you talking about?”
Will swayed back and forth in the doorway. His hesitation drove me to the brink of what sanity I had left. “Tell me!” I demanded.
“It happened before.”
“What happened?”
Will’s expression pained. “My dad and a young girl.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “When?”
“When I was in middle school.”
I gasped. “Did he get brought in on charges?”
“No, she never came forward.”
“Well, if she never came forward, how do you know?”
Will pinched his eyes shut. “Because I caught them.”
My hand involuntarily covered my mouth. “You did?”
“Yes,” he croaked. He whirled out of the bathroom. I followed close behind him. He sank down on the bed and put his head in his hands. I sat down beside him and draped my arm over his shoulders.
“Will, tell me what happened.”
“It was late after one of my games. Dad said he couldn’t come watch me because he had a special practice for the upcoming tournaments. Instead of riding the bus back with the team, I caught a ride home with Paul. My grandfather was dying of cancer, so my mom was out of town a lot. When I unlocked the front door, I heard these noises…And then I saw him.” He met my horrified gaze. “She was a senior and his star.”
“Like me,” I murmured.
Will nodded.
“Was he raping her?”
Will’s face reddened. “No, from what I saw, it was—uh, it was consensual. But even so, she screamed the moment she saw me. D
ad whirled around.” Will shook his head. “He told me to get the fuck out of there. So I did. I ran all the way to Paul’s house where I spent the night.”
“The next morning when he came to pick me up, he told me it was a mistake, and it wasn’t ever going to happen again. But then he said if I told, it would just be heartache for everyone and that he could lose his job and the girl would get into a lot of trouble.” Will smiled bitterly. “The son of a bitch even guilt-tripped me by saying it would break my mother’s heart when she was already so sad over my grandfather.”
I ran my hand over his back. “And you never told?”
He stared straight ahead. “No, I never said a word.” When he turned to look at me, tears welled in his eyes. “It’s my fault, Mel. If I had said something, he would’ve been put away, and he could never have done this to you.”
I shook my head. “It isn’t your fault. You were just a kid, and you didn’t want to hurt your father or your mother.”
Will’s fists tightened into balls, and he pounded his thighs over and over again. “It is all my fault! I mean, I knew all of this when Jordan accused him, but I thought she was lying. I figured they were together just like he’d been with that other girl. But you…not you. I could’ve done something.”
I put both my hands on each side of Will’s face and forced him to look at me. “Stop it. I won’t let you blame yourself.”
“Yeah, but I bet you’re sure as hell still taking all the blame over that bastard.”
My gaze dropped to the blanket. “I..I can’t help it.”
A growl came from low in Will’s throat. “When I found out what he had done…I wanted to kill him.” He choked on his sobs. “I still want to kill him. A long, slow death where he’s tortured for what he did to you.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
I sighed. “If you killed him, it wouldn’t take away what happened. It’s always going to be there. And if we’re going to stay together, you’re going to have to accept that.”
He stared into my eyes. “But how can I accept it? How can I ever be at peace with the fact my father—my flesh and blood—raped the only girl I’ve ever loved?”
“I don’t know how.” I shook my head sadly. “I don’t have all the answers yet. Maybe I never will. But I’m going to try.”
