“What is that?” Dad collapsed into a chair, running his hand through his salty, chestnut hair. “Why… What is that?”
“A student received and promptly reported this picture to our theater teacher. It appears this photograph has been circulating around the school,” Principal Moore said, disgust coloring his face as he pocketed the offending cellphone. “As to its origin, I suggest you ask your son.”
I flinched, withering under the principal’s glare.
Mr. Rodriguez scowled as Ms. Acker murmured a denial, but it was the vice principal who spoke. “Phil, I believe there’s more to the story. In fact, we need to alert the police immediately.”
“The police?” Mr. Moore balked. “Over a stunt like—”
“A stunt?” Aunt June was on her feet, her chocolate eyes blazing. “You think my boys had anything to do with this?”
My heart warmed momentarily at the title she granted me, but I sunk lower in my chair to escape Mr. Moore’s glower. He’d never liked me much. “Well, ask them! They’re the ones in that filthy photo.”
“Fuck you!” Ben’s chair flew backward as he stood, his expression murderous. “We didn’t take that damn photo! And we didn’t take those!” He pointed to our book bags resting on the table in front of Vice-Principal Fields.
Principal Moore swelled in outrage as Ben shouted more profanities. Aunt June tried to quell Ben’s anger, but he refused to back down. I couldn’t follow the argument. I was too distracted watching my father open my backpack and peek inside. He looked green as he stumbled away, a shaky hand scrubbing his face.
To stop the screaming, I took Ben’s hand, squeezing his fingers. His bellows ceased. Crazy Ben had taken over, but one insistent tug from my hand brought my boyfriend back. Flushing, he retrieved his chair and sank into it with an emotional groan. His fingers crushed mine until I feared he’d break my hand. I didn’t let go.
“Silas.” My dad’s voice cut through the room, silencing the conversations abruptly. I tentatively met his tortured gaze. “Silas, do you know who took these pictures?”
I clenched my jaw, unwilling to say his name. If I did, I would have to explain my accusation. They would force me to reveal everything, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t.
“Son?”
Turning away, I squeezed my eyes shut, pressed my lips together, and bit my tongue until I tasted blood.
Pressure on my fingers pulled my gaze to Ben, and he furrowed his brow, staring at me expectantly.
Of course, he wanted me to divulge the truth. To him, it was the only course of action. But it hadn’t happened to him. He hadn’t faced the violation of being held against his will, greedy hands grabbing and touching. He didn’t know the helplessness or the humiliation of begging for mercy when he knew he’d receive none. How could he possibly understand my reluctance?
I couldn’t admit my shame to a room full of people I barely knew. I couldn’t even tell my dad. What would he think of me? His own son being sexually assaulted… How could he live with the shame of it?
“Silas,” Ben croaked my name, begging me.
Minutely, I shook my head, pleading with him to understand. But there was no acceptance in his expression.
Raw bitterness filtered through his gaze, and he released my hand coldly, glaring at the wall. His loathed rejection hurt worse than I could have imagined, but what was I to expect? I was always hurting him somehow. My silence was the last straw. It was a betrayal in and of itself.
Conversation buzzed around me as I waited for Ben to look at me, but he didn’t. He stared at the far wall, his hands clasped together as his jaw ticked erratically. With every minute that passed, I slowly died.
Was my pride worth this? Wasn’t Ben worth everything? Could I do this for him?
Unwillingly, spitefully, I wet my lips and swallowed the lump of sand clogging my throat. “Eric Boyt.”
My voice caught as Ben’s head snapped my way, eyes wide and mouth ajar.
Hating him in this moment, I held his awed stare with a bitter one of my own. “It was Eric Boyt.”
Everyone’s focus landed on me. The room fell into an eerie stillness.
Ben’s eyes watered, and he offered me his hand. I took it, even though I wanted to bash his beautiful face in. He was always the stronger one, and I couldn’t confront this alone. No matter how much I despised him, right now, I needed him more.
How was it possible to detest and cherish someone in equal measure?
Dad shifted his attention between me and the principal. “Who’s that? Who’s this Eric?”
“Another student—”
“A problem student,” Mr. Rodriguez added, unrepentant at Principal Moore’s fiery expression. “Glare at me all you want, Phil, but we all know what that boy is. We’ve never caught him since no one comes forward, but—”
Mr. Fields stepped in, his young face looking years older as the displeased lines around his mouth and eyes deepened. “We can’t go accusing kids blindly.” He turned to me, sincerity bleeding from every pore. “Not that I don’t believe you, Silas, but you must understand.”
“This situation is delicate,” Mr. Moore finished with a pointed grimace at the bags of photos lying on the tabletop.
“If my son said this boy did it, then he did it!” My dad stood, readying himself to battle my principal, and my heart swelled at his willingness to believe and defend me. “My son doesn’t lie.”
“We are not insinuating that at all, Mr. Brigs,” Mr. Fields intervened, ever the voice of reason. “Silas, can you tell us why you believe Mr. Boyt is the offender?”
No! No, I couldn’t. Please, don’t make me.
“Silas?” Ben rubbed circles over the back of my hand, punctuating my name with a squeeze.
I released a shuddered breath, blinking through the tears blurring my vision. “I’m sorry, Dad.” I studied his anguished features as he lowered himself into his chair, as if in preparation. “I wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. I was scared and embarrassed, and I-I just wanted to forget.”
“Son?”
I dropped my eyes in shame, wishing I could melt into the floor and die. He looked at me like a man burning alive, and I was the one who set him alight.
“Boyt attacked me back in October. He assaulted me in the boy’s bathroom down by the gym.” The confession was barely above a whisper as I silently pleaded for forgiveness for something that wasn’t my fault. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”
Devastation crashed over his face, and his disappointment was too much to bear. I curled into a ball in my chair, thighs to my chest, and buried my face in my knees. In my own makeshift safe place, I shut down.
“When you say assaulted—”
“What the fuck do you think he means?” Ben answered the principal’s callous question for me. “Are you really going to make him spell it out for you?”
Someone, maybe Aunt June or Acker, was crying softly. The atmosphere thickened with revulsion and shock. Ben’s fingers ghosted over the back of my neck, but I flinched away, forcing him to release me. I didn’t want his loyal sympathy, his pride, or his comfort. They left a bitter aftertaste on my tongue.
“We can no longer postpone notifying the authorities,” Mr. Fields said, and I bit my lip until it split as Principal Moore agreed.
“Indeed, you’re correct. Ryan, please make the call.”
Hugging my knees to my chest, I pretended I wasn’t here. I was in the back of my truck, parked at the drive-in. As I gazed into the night sky, I counted the constellations. Maybe I’d paint them one day. Or maybe I’d simply stay here forever, where no one could find me. Where no one could hurt me.
“I need to call my lawyer.” Dad’s chair brushed against the carpet, and his coat swooshed as he rose to his feet.
“We have a number for a good criminal lawyer, in case yours only does civil cases.” Dad never responded verbally to Uncle Henry’s offer, so I was unsure of his reaction.
“Silas, sweetheart.” I remained in the dark haven
I’d created for myself, ignoring Aunt June as I pressed my forehead to my knees until my skull protested and a headache bloomed behind my eye. “Silas, did you go to the hospital? After, I mean.”
Jolting from my unfeeling stupor, I blanched in horror at the misunderstanding. “No, he never…” I met Aunt June’s teary eyes. “I got away. He didn’t… I got away.”
Equal parts relieved and disappointed, she turned to Uncle Henry as Mr. Rodriguez muttered under his breath.
“Would we have camera footage? Not inside the bathroom, of course, but the hallway?” He addressed the principal.
Mr. Moore shook his head. “We delete the footage at the end of each semester.”
Whatever hope had been alive in the adults died at his statement.
“So, it’s only his word?” Aunt June’s face fell, and I understood.
It was only my word against Eric’s, just like I had feared. Nothing would stick without proof. Because of my cowardice, we didn’t have the proof. I had run away that night instead of calling the cops and busting Eric for the rapist he was. And now, nothing I said would even matter.
Ben cleared his throat, his golden skin deathly pale. “It’s not just his word. I was there. I saw it. It’s how we met.” Aunt June and Ben had a silent conversation ending with Ben’s eyes watering as he hung his head in shame. “I’m sorry, Aunt June.”
I had no idea what they’d communicated, but Aunt June wiped at the thick tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, Benjamin.”
Her disappointment was obvious, and Ben flinched.
Somewhere, I mustered enough energy to care and jumped to his defense. “It’s not his fault. I begged him not to tell. I made him promise… Aunt June, he saved me.”
“Silence is never the answer.” She didn’t mean it as a rebuke, but I cringed just the same, curling my shoulders in chagrin.
Things moved quickly after that. They separated Ben and me, sending Ben to the vice principal’s office as they directed me to Mr. Moore’s. According to Ben, the police would interview us separately to ensure we didn’t collaborate our stories or feed off each other.
Given his run-ins with the law on more than one occasion, I took his word for it.
Dad was on his phone in the lobby, flushed and flustered as he spoke to his lawyer. I was eighteen, a legal adult, so his presence wasn’t compulsory. But I didn’t want to face the officer alone. I hoped he could forgive enough to sit with me in the office. It was childish, but I needed my dad.
“Dad,” I interrupted his phone call, feeling two inches tall.
“Hold on, Carl.” He lowered his phone. “Yes, Silas?”
Unable to meet his eyes, I stared at his chin as I stammered out my request. “I was wondering, like, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I thought maybe you could sit with me. Like in the room when the cop comes. It’s okay if you don’t wanna, but I thought, if you didn’t mind…”
“Carl, I need to call you back.” He hung up his phone and tucked it into his pocket. “Of course I’ll be there with you, if that’s what you want.”
I shrugged, staring at my dirty sneakers. “It’s not gonna be a nice story to hear.”
Dad’s finger under my chin lifted my eyes to his, and the lines of despair around his eyes and mouth deepened. “You’re a legal adult, so it’s your call, but if you want me to be there, then I’m there.”
Nodding, I smoothed out a wrinkle in Dad’s dress shirt. “I don’t really wanna be alone.”
“Okay.” He patted my shoulder as his eyebrows furrowed, threatening to merge into one thick line. “I wish you had told me sooner, Silas. I… I’m sorry you didn’t feel safe enough to talk to me about this.”
“Dad, no. It’s not—”
“I should’ve been there for you, should’ve protected you. You’re my son, Silas, and I failed you.” To my horror, his dark eyes glistened as he pressed his lips together, his voice choking on emotion.
I couldn’t remember the last time I saw my dad cry.
Grabbing his arms, I shook my head in denial. “This isn’t your fault. You’re the best dad in the whole world. I just didn’t want to disappoint you. I didn’t want you to be ashamed of me or mad at me.”
For the millionth time this cursed day, tears trailed over my cheeks, and Dad hauled me against his chest, his embrace tight. “Oh, my boy, I’m not mad at you. I’m not ashamed or disappointed. I’m so proud of you, Silas.” The dam barricading my emotions burst, and I wept into his shirt. I clung to his broad shoulders and let him cradle me, rocking us back and forth. “My son. My strong boy.”
He pecked my head, my temple, and I melted into a blubbering mess. “I don’t really feel that strong, right now.”
“We never do, even when we’re at our strongest.” He cupped my face, his thick thumbs wiping at my tears. “You just keep your chin up, and you tell them everything that happened.”
I nodded as his support bolstered my pathetic courage. “I will.”
“I mean it, Son.” His sudden severity jarred me from my misery, and I swallowed my next bout of weeping. “You tell them everything, every detail, because we’re going after that boy, and I’m not stopping until we get that son of a bitch.”
My dad wasn’t one to curse, but his intensity comforted me. “Just don’t do anything illegal.” It seemed an odd piece of advice to give my father, and I cracked a watery smile when he shrugged.
“Some things are worth getting jail time over. Nobody hurts my boys.” His smirk reminded me eerily of myself, and I coughed out a laugh as he drew me into another fierce hug. “You know I love you, right?”
Sniffling, I almost missed the vulnerable question. I tightened my arms around his waist as I nodded. “Of course I do, Dad. I love you, too.”
Dad accompanied me to the principal’s office, and a detective joined us soon after.
Detective Arthur Rogers asked if he could record our conversation. I agreed, hoping it meant I only had to repeat this story once. I grasped Dad’s hand like a wuss and told the cop everything.
Rehashing every detail, I explained what happened the night in October when Boyt had cornered me in the bathroom while he was high. I told him about Boyt jumping me backstage and blackmailing me into sucking him off. As I handed over the pictures found in my locker, I shared my suspicion about Unknown and the text messages sent to me the past few months.
He confiscated my phone and my bookbag.
Per Dad’s request, I spared no detail, including the threats to Ben and the fight in the gym corridor in December. Hopefully, I wasn’t currently incriminating my boyfriend, but Detective Rogers never gave anything away. He listened, straight-faced, asking for clarification at times, the epitome of a professional.
I couldn’t say the same about my dad. He was pissed. Granted, he never said a word unless addressed by the detective, but the ice in his eyes frightened me. It was a good thing Dad didn’t know who Boyt was, or else I would fear for the bastard’s life. Regardless, he never left my side.
By the time I finished, it was like a plug had been pulled inside me, and everything that made me Silas had slowly spiraled down into the gutter. The numbness was a welcome relief, and I dried my tears and straightened my shoulders, wrapping the unfeeling blanket around me like a shroud.
The detective asked more questions and gave instructions I tried to remember but immediately forgot.
After half a lifetime, we were told we could go.
Prepared to take me home, Dad blustered when I refused. I couldn’t go back there, not right now. Most of those pictures had been taken from my backyard or from the driveway. Returning there was unthinkable.
He fought me but eventually surrendered, allowing me to climb into the back of Aunt June’s SUV. We abandoned Mabel in the school parking lot as Uncle Henry drove Ben’s car, my dad following behind in his own vehicle.
Meanwhile, Ben and I shared the backseat, sitting on opposite sides of the car. Our hands linked in the middle, the only parts of our
bodies to touch.
Mere inches separated us, but we might as well have been miles apart. A tentative truce connected us, content with our twined fingers. I both loved and hated the distance. As I stared out the window, watching the trees and snowbanks blur together, I gripped Ben’s hand tighter, terrified of what would happen when I had to let go.
Twenty-Eight
When we arrived at Ben’s house, Dad and Uncle Henry busied themselves with phone calls to lawyers. I didn’t want to hear another word about the whole situation, so I wordlessly took Ben’s hand and dragged him down the stairs to his bedroom.
Aunt June offered to cook us food if we were hungry. I remained silent as Ben shook his head. I didn’t think either of us were eating anytime soon.
At the base of the stairs, I dropped Ben’s hand and took refuge in his room. I heaved a mental sigh of relief at the lack of windows—no windows was now an essential necessity for every bedroom.
Without asking permission, I unbuckled my jeans and dropped them to the floor. After kicking them off my socked feet, I crawled into Ben’s bed. I snuggled under the Irish Spring blankets, burying myself beneath the thick material, and hid there. Part of me wanted Ben to join me in my makeshift blanket fort, but a piece of me secretly wished he would leave me alone.
He seemed just as unsure, and after I lay alone for several long minutes, the blankets shifted as the mattress depressed behind me.
“Do you… Um, I mean… Is it okay…” He stumbled over his words, his tone filled with heart-crushing insecurity. “Do you mind if I join you?”
I shook my head as I burrowed ever deeper into his chlorine-scented sheets. His warmth quickly permeated the space behind me as he lay down at my back. He left enough space between us to ensure we didn’t actually touch. Our lack of contact stung.
I didn’t want him, yet I was bereft without him. I was a contradictory mess. Neither of us knew what we wanted or needed.
At long last, he scooted closer, still not touching but closing the distance somewhat. His breath tickled the back of my neck as the mattress absorbed his body heat and used it to thaw my frozen limbs.
Every Hidden Truth (Far From Ruined Book 2) Page 29
