Almost

by Anne Eliot

  “Seriously? Damn. Back out of here. I've got time.”

  “No. No.” My voice makes it to the surface, released from the dry leaves that were holding it hostage. “Please, no,” I whisper, as my gaze searches for the person connected to the shadow by the door.

  His voice cracks when he says, “Stop. Dude. Stop. This is going to blast you off the team in every way. I thought you had a scout coming next week. Just walk away.”

  “Look at her. She might be worth it. I'm about to explode. She's not even fighting me. She's so messed up.”

  “That is the doorbell.”

  “F—ingGodDamn!” He walks to the window and I can finally breathe in because he's away from me.

  I feel some motion returning to my limbs. I want to get my arms free. To run. I pull against the ties, but the exertion exhausts me. The other guy walks nearer.

  Mortified, because I'm naked, I close my eyes.

  “Dude. She's cut on this arm. What do you mean she isn't fighting you?”

  “Well—she wasn't complaining. Maybe I'll ask her to prom. Have a do-over. You know her?”

  “Yes—I do. And I recommend you stay the hell away from the girl you just tried to rape! You asshole.”

  A loud crack rings out as a sheet unfolds and floats above me. It hangs suspended in the air for what feels like forever, finally draping over my nakedness.

  “You're a brave one, for a ninety-pound newbie. Come on, calm down. Nothing happened.”

  “Piss off, you bastard.” The new guy paces around the bed.

  “Nothing happened…plus she won't remember. A guy I know gave me some stuff for her to drink. She won't even be able to place my face or yours. Shame to waste it all for nothing, though.”

  “Crap! What have you done?”

  Hands. Different hands. Shaking. Shaking exactly like mine are shaking.

  They pull on the tie holding the arm that hurts the most, but when it won't budge, he moves around the bed to pull at the other. “Crap! These things are not budging.”

  “We don't have time. Let's just get out of here.”

  “Hang on. Your'e going to be okay,” he whispers to me. One knot comes free and my hand drops onto the bed.

  I can't do anything but cry as he tugs on my other arm. I am not okay. Not. Okay. The new guy is getting upset. Shouting now. Not at me. Maybe for me. I don't know.

  “She's practically comatose—we can't just leave her here—not like this. You can bet your ass if she doesn't remember, I'm going to fill in the holes. You are going down! If you think I'm not going to tell, you're delusional.”

  “Whatever. It will be your word against mine. I didn't do anything. Maybe I can say you did all of this to her. Try to tell on me, and I'll crush your dumb, loser, freshman ass in every way.”

  “Do your worst, and I'll do mine. You drugged a girl and tried to rape her. Has that registered yet, or have you done this before you fucking-felon-freak-asshole?”

  “Does Coach Williams know you're this much of a squealing cry baby? Let's go. C'mon. Leave her already. I'm not getting caught in this room. She'll be fine. I lost my head. And maybe this was a bad idea. Either way, nothing happened, right? I don't know what I was thinking and I didn't go through with it. Just—come on.”

  “Help me untie her other arm first.”

  “If you don't leave with me now, the whole team will have to sit out the next three games. And state. Isn't that why you came in here—to warn me? One for the team?”

  “I'm not here for you.” He speaks to me then, his voice is low…scared…angry. “You're going to be okay. You're okay. Jess, I'm so sorry. I can't get his knot out. I don't know what to do.”

  I stare at his anguished, golden green eyes. “I didn't. He made me—”

  “Jess…I know. I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

  “Porter. If you don't walk out of here with me, then I'm going to pin this whole scene on you.”

  “Don't leave me here. Please. Don't leave me here alone,” I whisper.

  He lets go of my arm and steps back. “I'm sorry, but I—I—you're going to be fine. The police are outside. I'm so sorry…”

  Their footsteps fade. The door closes. And I'm alone.

  I command my free hand to move. After a very long time passes, I manage to pull my underwear back up. Then, I yank at the arm that's still tied to the bed. When it won't budge, I stare and stare at the seashells.

  I tell myself, over, and over, and over again that this is all a bad dream.

  A dream. A very bad dream.

  ...

  I wake up gasping for air inside the mini van. Silent screams fill my head.

  It's all I can do to keep them inside.

  For now. Hold on. Hold on.

  Nausea floods my body; but I keep very still, striving to get my bearings. The van is silent and my skin is covered in a light layer of ice cold sweat. Gray and Corey must be asleep. Streetlights flash through the window. The stop-start-stop motion of the van tells me we're off the highway.

  I remember. I remember.

  I realize we're in my neighborhood.

  Almost home.

  Almost raped.

  Almost. Almost.

  I unbuckle and scoot into one of the bucket seats. I need to be as far away from Gray Porter as I can possibly get. My head spins double-time. I grab the door handle and pull hard, but the safety locks hold it closed. “Michelle. Stop the van. I need to get out.”

  I hear Gray wake and shift in the seat behind me. “What's up, beautiful?”

  That stupid word triggers the panic. It hits me like a bomb.

  “Don't call me that. Never call me that,” I yell. “I said stop the car. I need to get out.”

  Michelle glances at me through the rear view mirror. “But, we're almost to your house—just hang on—”

  “STOP THE VAN. NOW. I NEED TO GET OUT. NOW! NOW!”

  Gray sits forward. “Jess. What's wrong? Jess!” He places his hand on my back just as Michelle swerves to park.

  I hit the button that opens the door. “DON'T TOUCH ME. DON'T TOUCH ME. EVER. EVER. Oh my God. OH MY GOD.”

  I fling myself out of the van. He's following me. I run a few feet down the sidewalk before the nausea wins out. I double over and vomit into the street.

  Gray, Michelle and Corey catch up. Gray's already squatted down next to me and is trying to pull me into his arms as another round of nausea takes over. I scream and kick and punch him away. “No. No. Don't touch me! Don't let him touch me. Michelle, please. Don't let him touch me. Please. Don't ever touch me again! I remember. I remember YOU!”

  Gray pulls his hands away.

  I vomit again. I can hear Corey's voice somewhere near. “What do you think's wrong with her? Too much candy?”

  “Tell them. Tell them,” I choke out.

  When Gray doesn't answer, Corey whispers, “Dude. Gray. What is going on? What is she talking about?”

  Michelle sits next to me on the curb and puts her arm gently around me. I put my hands over my eyes, trying to stop the crying and gather some strength from Michelle. She helps me to my feet. “Was it one of those dreams you say you have?”

  “Not a dream. A memory. I remembered.”

  I notch my chin up as high as I can and I make myself look at Gray.

  I want to watch his expressions while I say this. “Freshman year, I was at a party and a senior—a senior hockey player almost raped me. He took me upstairs after calling me beautiful. He forced a bunch of laced vodka down my throat. Then he tried to rape me. And Gray was there.”

  Gray takes a step back.

  “And you saw. And you knew,” I sob, crumbling again. “Why. Why didn't you tell me? Why have you known every single second of the worst night of my life, and I'm only finding out tonight. WHY? God. You knew for years.”

  I look wildly at Corey and Michelle. “Did you know too? Michelle, when I told you about it the other day, did you already know?”

  “No. I didn't. I swear,”
Michelle says, darting Gray a questioning glance and I sense with some relief that Michelle isn't lying.

  Corey's looking at me as though I'm two steps from a straight jacket. It's pretty obvious this is the first time he's heard of it as well.

  “Jess…” Gray's voice is shaking. “I promised your parents I wouldn't tell. And then, I was afraid that I was going to lose you. Please, let me explain. I did try.”

  The world under my feet falls away as his words register. “My parents? My parents knew about this—YOU? MY PARENTS KNOW YOU?!!”

  “Coach Williams also,” Gray answers.

  “No way,” Corey mutters.

  “Do all of you also know the name of the kid that did this to me?”

  Gray nods.

  “No wonder you didn't want to meet my parents. Were you trying to make me crazy? Was all of this some kind of sick joke?”

  “No. God no! Jess, don't think that. You said you were going to hire another guy to be your boyfriend if I turned you down. I couldn't let you do that. If you'd gone public with that ridiculous checklist—I thought, because I knew about you that I could keep you safe from more gossip. And I wanted to make up for what happened to you.”

  “You wanted to make up for what happened? You jerk! You can never make that up.”

  Corey barks out a laugh and crosses his arms. “I knew something was up. You're not even her real boyfriend? She hired you? Man…this is freaking epic.”

  “Shut the hell up, Corey!” Gray shouts, walking nearer to me. “Jess, I thought I could help you. And, at first I wanted the job and the money. But then, you turned out to be so awesome. It was fun…and…I never knew we'd fall in love. But I did want very much to be your friend. I still do.”

  I wish I had some sort of immunity pill I could take against his cajoling, now evil sounding voice and perfect face.

  Damn his green eyes.

  Tremors from the dream begin to take over. I pull out the envelope that holds his check and throw it at his feet.

  “You thought you could help me?” I ask, slowly, not at all trying to hide the desperate tremors and tears in my voice. Let them all hear it. It's not like I can fall any lower than what they've already seen. “Oh, you helped me all right. I've been hearing your voice inside my nightmares all summer long. And screaming in my bed at night because of it! Don't you get it? I thought I was going crazy. Really crazy.”

  “I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me? Say something?”

  “Because it's none of your damn business! Or at least I thought it wasn't. But maybe it IS. You suck! And I don't love you. I take it all back. I don't even know you!”

  “Jess…if I'd known—”

  “What? You would have made up better lies?” I looked up at the darkened tree branches overhead and bite back a scream of anguish. I gather my thoughts and quaking body and draw strength from my absolute fury. “How could you have written that beautiful letter?” Tears are falling unchecked down my cheeks. “How could you have kissed me like that? When all the time you knew.” My voice cracks. “You knew that we could never be. All along you've been lying.”

  “I've never lied. I just couldn't figure out how to tell you the whole truth without losing you. Without hurting you. I could not bear either option.”

  “You had no right to do what you did! You had no right,” I scream, hardly recognizing my voice. A porch light near where we'd parked flips on. My heart crumples to the size of a marble. “God. You just lost me. And you hurt me. Beyond belief.”

  “I....” He lets out a long breath.

  “Let me help you get back to the van. We'll all go to your house and talk this out,” Michelle offers.

  “Jess, please, Michelle's right,” Corey starts in. “We—you guys can work through this.”

  “No. No. This is so over. This whole summer. The internship, all of it, OVER. Send my regrets to Mr. Foley. I won't be coming back to work. I won't need his letters of recommendation, either. Imagine what the dorm monitor would think of me? Screaming in the hallways every night is not a good plan for academic success.”

  I manage to laugh a little then—not wanting them to see any more of my complete devastation. I ratchet on what I hope looks like an uncaring sneer. “Michelle, Corey, you two should be equally pissed off at Gray, and at me. We've been playing you all summer, more than you know.”

  “What?” Corey frowns.

  “In case Gray decides to withhold information from you like he did from me, I think you should know that we added you two into our contract. You were an added value-pack. Like a friend-bundle. He probably owes you some money for your time. Make him pay you. You both did an awesome job.”

  I smile at all of them, and force my tone to scathing. “Oh, and before you write me off as a complete lunatic and buy into Gray Porter's broken heart act, you should know one more thing about your best friend.”

  I walk right up to Gray. This time my gaze into his eyes is unwavering. “Tell them. Tell them what you did at that party.”

  “Please. Don't do this. Not after what we said to each other tonight. Come on, Jess. You don't know the whole story.”

  “Oh, I think I do. And, if we're sticking to the truth, then you can correct me if I'm wrong,” I say. My voice, breaking.

  I step even closer so I can see his face under the street light before I continue, “Tell me it wasn't you in the nightmare I just had. Say that you weren't there,” I whisper, letting my gaze memorize every line of Gray's face. The dark curls on his forehead, his wide shoulders, the chin divot—and those terrible, lying lips.

  I press on, “Tell me that I didn't beg you to stay with me in that room. That you didn't cover me with a white sheet like I was some sort of corpse. I was alone, afraid, naked, and tied to a bed! And you left me there after I begged you to stay. If you can say that person wasn't YOU—then—we can continue this conversation.” I gasp, working to control my voice and the next wave of tears welling up inside my whole body.

  I never waver from Gray's gaze, wishing with all my heart he will deny what I've accused. But know the truth. I know these green-gold eyes and every stupid gold fleck inside each one. I've seen them in my nightmares for so long.

  Dr. Brodie said I'd know when my memories were real. And I know.

  I choke back a sob.

  A tornado of emotion crosses his face. “It's what happened. That was me. And I'm sorry.”

  Michelle gasps.

  Gray seems to be shaking as hard as I am. He holds his hands out like he wants me to take them. “Jess…please. We've got so much—”

  I put my hands over my ears. “Stop. Just stop! Don't you see? I've hated you for three years! Every single time I've had that nightmare, you've been in there. In my head! I've hated you all along, and for years. And now, after this summer?”

  My legs almost buckle as the enormity of my whole summer with him becomes clear. “Oh my God. That letter. You totally knew I'd hate you. How could you possibly think I wouldn't?”

  “I had hope.” He drops his hands and looks away.

  I turn my back on all of them so they won't see how badly I'm crying now.

  And I run.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Gray

  Nobody moves until she's disappeared.

  “Shit. Porter. What the hell? Should we follow her?” Corey asks.

  I'm just able to get control of my breathing. I don't want to bawl like a baby in front of them. “No.”

  “Is all that true?” Michelle whispers.

  “And then some. She has every right to hate me forever. I totally suck…I was a selfish bastard.” I shrug, crossing my arms, trying to absorb some of the pain thudding through my whole body.

  “You never told us anything,” Michelle says, sounding half pissed, half overwhelmed.

  “Like I said, I'd made a promise not to talk about it. I keep promises. The entire thing was so messed up.”

  “Obviously,” says Corey.

  I shoot him a glare. “And if
you ever tell anyone what you know about Jess's past, or the contract. Or any of this entire summer, I'll personally shred every ounce of your stinking ass—”

  “I won't. Jesus. I won't, you freak. Chill.” Corey balls his hands into fists. “I should be royally pissed that my own best friend had me so out of the loop. I feel like I'm looking at a stranger right now. You took her money even though…wait a minute! Gray…holy shit.” Corey lowers his voice. “Jess Jordan is why you quit the hockey team? Why you got your ass kicked freshman year?”

  I look away. “It wasn't directly her fault. But yes.”

  Corey continues, “You're the best ice hockey player in the state. But you have no team and no scholarship money. And it's all because of that whacked-out girl? And you still set up a deal where she'd be your girlfriend for the whole summer?” Corey whistles. “Like I said, I think I have no idea who you are. Dude, you're insane.”

  “Corey. He's not. He's in love. Didn't you hear him?” Michelle puts her arm around me. “I'm so sorry. I can't believe Jess would strike a deal like that in the first place.”

  “She was desperate.” I push her arm away. Annoyed they both seem to want to blame Jess for a situation that is my fault. I have to make them understand. “Her parents weren't going to let her go to college unless she could prove that she'd finally become ‘better’ or ‘normal’ or whatever lame prerequisite they came up with for her. I found out about her plan and signed on. How could I not. Knowing what I knew, I felt obligated to try to help her. She didn't remember me. I thought it would be okay…until I wanted more. This is my fault.”

  “It's pretty clear she's not even close to normal,” Corey breathes.

  “Don't ever say that. She's perfect. You got to know her pretty well. Aside from her being tired all the time, she's the most amazing person I've ever met. And you guys liked her too. So what if she has bad dreams? Everyone has something. Doesn't mean they can't still be awesome.” I feel completely empty and worry Jess must feel the same. Worse. I put my hands on my face, and groan. “I let her down in so many ways at that party. And tonight I just let her down again. Crap. Do you think there's any chance of me ever getting her back?”