by Mariah Dietz
Olivia follows me to my bed, where I lie down, burying my head in the pillow Ian’s been using.
Rose lies beside me on her stomach, so we’re facing each other. “What happened?”
New tears form and spill over my lids before I can stop them. “I realized I’ve been changing, or trying to, and this stupid site reminded me of who I am. Who I really am.”
Olivia stares at me, listening to me.
“I mean, of course, I haven’t been sleeping with the team, but it wasn’t all lies. Those were my rules, and I’ve slept with plenty of guys, and I’m so embarrassed.” My eyes close. “And I hate that I’m embarrassed. I hate that I made these decisions, and I hate that I hate that.”
Olivia rests a hand on my back and rubs soothing circles across my skin.
I pull in a breath and try to steady my thoughts, wiping at the tears with my fingertips. “Anna told me she thought the rumors could hurt Ian’s dad and the election and might even impact Ian’s chances of being drafted.” I choke on a sob.
“That’s why you haven’t called him.”
I nod, my eyes still closed. “I keep hoping this will all blow over and it will just go away.”
Olivia curls around me and threads her arm under my neck, pulling me so I rest on her shoulder.
“I did this. I caused this.”
Olivia shifts, holding my face with both of her hands. “Rose Genevieve Cartwright, you listen to me.” Her eyes become glassy with tears. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You are fierce and beautiful and brilliant, and the fact you chose to have sex with other guys does not define you.”
I close my eyes and shudder.
“It does not define you,” Olivia says again. “And if someone doesn’t want to vote for Ian’s dad because Ian chose to date a girl who wasn’t a virgin, then fuck them.”
“I can’t destroy two dreams,” I tell her.
Olivia shakes her head. “You won’t. You can’t let Anna scare you into making this decision. You need to talk to Ian.”
“I can’t,” I tell her, my shoulders racking with another cry.
Olivia kisses the top of my head again. “He almost got on a plane home today,” she tells me. “He’s been really worried about you.”
Her words only cut me deeper. “I don’t know how to be a girlfriend,” I tell her. “I don’t know how to do any of this. It feels like a giant game of pretend.”
“No one knows,” she tells me. “No one knows what they’re doing.”
I want to tell her that she does. That like Raegan, she makes being a girlfriend look easy, and that Arlo seems to know exactly what to do, and my mom knew how to be the best mom ever, that I’m who seems to struggle at every path and label. Instead, I tell her all the details of the day, from Amita assuming the rumors were true, to smoking with Chantay, and our trip to the club. I expect judgment and a hint of disgust—she gives neither, only offering me the same brand of kindness and patience that she always has. And when I’m done, I cry myself to sleep, arms tangled with Olivia.
Ian
“Dude. Sit down,” Luis says from his bed.
“I should go.”
“You should go to bed, is what you should do.”
“She hasn’t called me or sent me a text since Tuesday night.”
Luis winces. “I know, man.” He does. I’ve told him at least twice. “Alexis freaked out when we were on the site, too. I think it’s that whole invasion of privacy thing, you know? Especially when it’s about sex and being accused of something you haven’t even done.”
“How do I fix this?”
“You can’t,” he says. “This isn’t a situation that a person can fix. It’s been done. It happened. All you can do is be there for her. And if she’s like Alexis, she’s probably going to be embarrassed and mad for a couple of weeks, and then she might make a list of people she thinks it is and pretend to be the next Sherlock Holmes. And learn from my mistake, and be sure to support that shit, too.”
“But why is she embarrassed to talk to me? I’m on her side. I don’t care about this shit.”
Luis shrugs. “I don’t know, man. Chicks think differently than us. When that was Hoyt, he was sharing it and didn’t care if people were throwing shade.” He shrugs. “Then again, there was very little shade being thrown. The reaction Rose has received has been like night and day. Hoyt was met with a red carpet, and Rose was met with pitchforks.”
I scrub my eyes with the heels of my hands.
“Olivia said she’s home. If you’re worried about it, why don’t you message her or Arlo and see if they know anything.”
“She’s probably pissed at me for leaving. I should have stayed.”
Luis sits up. “What would have happened if you’d stayed? Are you going to find everyone who posts something rude and punch them in the face? Would it change the rumors? Do you think Rose would feel better if you skipped out and we lost this game?”
I hit the mattress with my fist. Football has been my life and focus for so long, and right now, I’m struggling to care about the game or our undefeated title. “I’m so damn sick and tired of this fucking website.”
“I know. I hear you. They went too far, this time.” Luis reaches for his phone. “Listen, man. It’s nearly two in the morning. We’ve got practice in less than six hours. You need to get some sleep and clear your thoughts. We’ll get through this weekend, add another win to our record, and then we’ll sort this shit out.”
I wish I’d ignored him and Arlo and gotten on the fucking plane this afternoon. I knew something was wrong before I even left, and now, the regret burns deep in my chest.
I reach for my phone and verify I haven’t received anything from Rose before I message Olivia.
Me: Is she okay?
Olivia: She fell asleep about twenty minutes ago.
The dots along the bottom of my screen start and stop a dozen times before her next message comes through.
Olivia: She cares for you so much, but she’s worried about how this might impact you and your dad.
Me: I don’t give a shit what other people think.
Olivia: I know. You guys will need to talk, but she’s embarrassed. She might need a couple of days. I’m going to stay home with her all weekend.
Another heavy sigh. I led this war to her doorstep and left when the battle arrived. Guilt floods my chest. How do I apologize for abandoning her now, when she needs me most?
Me: I’m sorry I’m not there. I’m going to look at flights. See how early I can get there tomorrow.
Olivia: I don’t think that’s a good idea. I know you want to be here for her and help, but Rose would be so upset with herself if you missed the game on her behalf.
Olivia: It’s sweet, and a grand gesture like that makes me know you care about her, but you have to focus on the game and I’ll focus on Rose and on Sunday, you can come and slay her dragons.
I sit up and throw on my sweatshirt before reaching for my bag.
“Man, tell me you’re not doing this,” Luis says. “The team needs you.”
“I won’t be able to play unless I go and make sure she’s okay.”
Luis groans. “Coach Danielson is going to be so pissed. What am I supposed to tell him? That you forgot your goddamn tampons back in Washington?”
I shove my feet into my tennis shoes. “We both know if our roles were reversed, you’d be leaving to be with Alexis.”
“Yeah, and I also know you’d be telling me I was a moron and chaining me to the bed and telling me about the vow I made to this team.”
“Well, now it’s my turn to be a moron.”
Luis expels a deep breath and shakes his head. “At least be a moron who uses his brain. Look up flights and get something booked. You don’t want to spend the damn night in the airport.” He punches his pillow and lies down on his side, facing the wall. “Next time, just send flowers. If Rose tells the other girlfriends you flew home just to give her a hug, we’re all going to be paying the price.”<
br />
“You’re so full of shit.”
He chuckles quietly. “I’ve got to pretend I’m still a tough badass, it helps when I’m out on the field.”
Rose
I wake up and roll to reach for my phone. It’s past nine. Olivia must have turned off my alarm, and I’m grateful. I don’t know that I would have been brave or smart enough to have chosen to stay home again. Pride is such a fickle bitch.
The doorbell rings and then rings again, and again, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that it’s Anna.
Olivia doesn’t move. She sleeps through her alarm most days, so this doesn’t surprise me. I flip off the covers and quietly close the door behind me before quickly checking for Juliet and opening the front door.
“You’re so lucky I didn’t come over last night!” She barges past me, dropping her heavy purse on our dining room table before turning her intensely angry stare on me. “What in the hell, Rose? You just decided to go AWOL?”
“I didn’t go…” Okay, so I did. I totally did. “I messed up,” I tell her. “I know. I was just spiraling. I had my first panic attack since the summer after mom passed away, and I was just … losing it.”
“Why didn’t you call me? I would have come. I would have helped talk you down.”
“Because I didn’t want to be talked down,” I tell her. “I think I had to kind of crash. I’m struggling to know who exactly I am. Am I this fun, crazy, borderline rebellious girl, or am I an adult with a business plan and projections and budgets who attends potlucks with her boyfriend?” I lift my shoulders. “And yesterday, I felt like maybe I was never going to be able to be the successful, intelligent version of me that I keep working toward, and I thought maybe I’d been lying to myself. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be anything more than some privileged brat who only knows how to have a good time.”
“I hate to tell you this, but those feelings of inadequacy and doubt, they follow you into adulthood.” She steps closer to me. “You’ve always been so good at blocking out the garbage and the negativity, never caring what others thought. I was worried these rumors might hit you, but you were so confident. So calm. I should have known better. I’ve seen how people will chew someone up and spit them out over less.”
I shake my head and move into our small kitchen and start the coffee pot. I’m not ready for another cry session and I don’t want to discuss why this felt different—why it feels different. Plus, I’m feeling the effects of yesterday, my feet and head both aching. “That’s not reassuring.”
“People are assholes,” she says.
A laugh slips through my lips.
“But for every asshole, there are several genuine, kind, gracious people. Unfortunately, those assholes are just sometimes difficult to see past.”
“I don’t want to mess things up for Ian or his dad.”
Anna nods. “I know, and I shouldn’t have told you about that. It wasn’t fair of me to leave that burden on your shoulders, especially when it was over something you didn’t do.” She plants her elbow on the bar and drops her chin into her hand. “You didn’t actually sleep with four-hundred guys, did you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“I mean, I’m not judging, I’m just curious if that’s possible?”
I smirk. “I’m sure it is, but no. Not even close. I don’t have an exact headcount, but I didn’t have sex for the first time until the end of freshman year at Brighton, and between all of my classes and yoga certification and teaching, it’s not like I’ve had much free time. I slept with a few more guys last year before meeting Ian when Olivia and Arlo were in the early romance stages and were blissfully unaware and shooting all the aphrodisiacs around with their googly eyes. But then I met Ian, and I basically lost interest in all guys except for him.”
“You know, if you had slept with four-hundred guys, it would still be okay. You still wouldn’t deserve to be treated like you have, and you wouldn’t owe anyone an explanation. Except for me, of course, because we did that disgusting blood bond back when you turned thirteen and were clearly possessed.”
Laughter rolls through me. “Possessed,” I repeat the word. “It was a tiny cut.”
“I had to get a tetanus shot.”
“Not my fault you didn’t get your booster shot.”
Anna scowls.
My smile wears off too quickly, and my thoughts navigate back toward Ian. “I need you to give me the hard facts. If I continue dating Ian, is it going to jeopardize his future or his dad’s election?”
Anna drums her fingers on the counter and pulls in a breath. “Dad filed a court injunction yesterday to remove the site. I’m betting it will be gone before lunch, but we know how things can linger. Someone might bring the rumors up at some point, but I don’t believe it will ruin either of their chances. It just might be one of those ugly things that continue to pop up for you, unfortunately.”
“So dad knows?”
Anna nods. “He was livid—at them, not you. I went over there yesterday, and he was calling in every favor from every contact he knew.”
“I bet he was embarrassed to have to admit I’m his other daughter.”
Anna shakes her head. “Not even a little. I’m pretty certain he was ready to knock someone out, yesterday, including the entire football team and the staff at Brighton and every asshole on social media that had shared your picture. You can probably find a hit list on his desk of everyone he plans to call in favors against.”
My confidence is rattled by her words. Since Anna has moved back, I’ve been seeing her more, but for the past three years and change, I’ve essentially taken care of myself. “You’re not blowing smoke up my ass about Ian, are you? You swear I won’t jeopardize his future?”
“I hate that saying.”
I roll my eyes. “Anna, focus.”
“I’m not lying to you. This is going to be yesterday’s news soon enough. I should have had my team learn more and reached out to Dad for his help before I said a word to you, and for that, I am truly sorry.”
The coffee pot does its final strange gurgle and shake and then beeps its glorious sound. I turn from it to Anna. “I could kiss you.”
She smiles, but it’s sad and forced. “I’m sorry I added to your stress levels. Kurt says I’ve forgotten how to people, and I’m a little worried he might be right. I’m so used to dealing with crises and talking with others in the same field that I forget that what I say might change in ten minutes or an hour.”
“Do you want some coffee?”
She nods, and I quickly fix us both a cup. “Ian called me yesterday.” She wraps her hands around the mug I place in front of her. “He seems like a really good guy, and I think he really likes you—the genuine type of like.”
I stir my coffee.
“This is where you smile again,” she tells me.
“I freaked out,” I tell her. “I ignored him, didn’t call or text him back and then went and got high, borderline drunk, and nearly kissed a stranger.”
Anna closes her eyes and is no doubt counting in her head. “That’s okay,” she says, though her tone reveals she’d prefer to yell at me right now. “None of those things are illegal.” Her eyes are still closed.
“But I’m pretty sure they violate every relationship rule.” I dig my fingers into my hair. “I know it was stupid and reckless, especially when I have all of this stupid attention on me already…”
Anna nods. “It was really stupid. And reckless, but shockingly normal. Maybe you can read one of your psychology journals and tell me why one day, so I can better prepare for when my future clients go off the rails. Trust me, you’re not the first.”
“That’s the first time being called normal actually feels good.”
Anna snickers.
“How do I even begin to explain any of this to Ian?” I ask, genuinely terrified that he won’t understand or forgive me.
Anna frowns. “The same way you’re telling me. You have to be honest and explain you wer
e freaking out, but you may want to mention you were freaking out because you like him so much. That would probably help.”
I groan as I rest my forehead against the counter. “I suck at being a girlfriend.”
“You made a mistake. I hate to sound cliché, but it happens. And now you learn from it, grow, and move on.”
We stay in the kitchen and finish our coffee, and rather than discuss the stupid pictures or my stupid mistakes, we talk about the owl sanctuary and how she’d like me to sign up with her on a project to help the burrowing owls, a project I have no doubt our mom would have loved.
When Anna leaves, I finally bite the bullet and turn my phone on. My chest constricts as alert after alert begins popping up—messages from my dad, Anna, Raegan, Chloe, Olivia, Ian, and more. I start with Ian’s and read through the multiple texts he sent that range from asking me how I’m doing to more urgent messages asking me if I’m okay, which provide a timeline for when Olivia started to get concerned. The messages end shortly after eleven when I’d arrived home last night. Clearly, Olivia cleaned up more than one of my messes yesterday.
Me: I’m really sorry. I know I messed up. If you have time to talk today, please let me know. I’d really like to talk to you. I’m staying home with Olivia and can chat anytime.
I know from both Arlo and Ian that when they travel, they’re often busy doing things as a team, preparing for the upcoming games as well as team-building exercises, but worry has wormed its way past my thoughts and straight into my heart.
“What should we do today?” Olivia asks as she combs through her wet hair. “We have a couple of movies left. We could go get some really good brunch and hibernate all afternoon, or we could get out and go to Pike’s Place Market and walk around a little.”
Neither option seems appealing, which creates a thought as bitter as yesterday’s when I began spiraling. I don’t want to hide in the apartment for the rest of the year and constantly be afraid of what others are saying about me. And I don’t want to shut everyone out like I proficiently did after my mom passed away.
