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Honorable Disgrace

Page 21

by Stephanie N. Pitman


  I choked back a strangled sob. He thought I’d cheated on him. That I’d fooled around willingly with Brad. I knew he’d thought it, but to hear him say it was a dagger in the chest. He thought I’d given myself to Brad when I wouldn’t for him. I gasped.

  And now I was pregnant.

  “Should have known. So sorry, Angie. So sorry.” Cory was still rambling. Then he released me and walked to his Jeep and slammed his fist into the side of it. “The bastard. I’m gonna make him sorry he ever touched you.”

  His words were bittersweet. How many times had I fantasized him as my knight in shining armor, looming over a cowering Brad? But this was reality. I didn’t want Cory to ruin his future over me. “No,” I pleaded. “No. Leave Brad alone. The police are already involved.”

  “What?” His teeth gritted, he all but spit out, “I can barely think for the depraved thing he did to you and you’re defending him?”

  “I’m not defending him.” How could I get him to understand? “I don’t want you to wreck your life for me. Mine’s already ruined. It doesn’t mean yours needs to be.”

  “What do you mean yours is ruined? Because of what that degenerate did to you?” He crunched his hands into tight fists, the tendons in his neck standing out. His compelling grip on my shoulders forced me to look at him. “You are not ruined.”

  I tore my eyes away, only to return to his gaze. “Cory, I’m pregnant.”

  The color drained from his face and he backed away, shaking his head.

  “That’s what I thought,” I mumbled and stalked toward the clinic door. As I approached, I could tell the lights were off. So much for somewhere safe to call and wait for my mom to come, safe being a relative term considering the only thought I had right now was getting as far from Cory as I could.

  The tinted windows of the building turned it into a reflective surface, so I saw Cory’s approach. He wisely didn’t try to touch me, his eyes meeting mine in the reflection. “Is that why you fell, at school? ’Cause you’re … pregnant?” He seemed to have difficulty on the last word.

  I couldn’t blame him. I was still floundering. Slowly I nodded, careful to keep sight of him as I delivered my silent answer.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “So what are the police doing?” His muscles were shaking.

  I shrugged. “I heard they picked him up and questioned him. The investigation is ongoing, whatever that means.”

  He cast his eyes up at the sky, his look thunderous.

  “Cory, you really shouldn’t be involved with me.”

  “Stop. Have you ever stopped to think about what I want? My feelings haven’t changed for you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you really want a girlfriend knocked up by another guy?”

  He paused and scrunched his face. “You could … there’s abortion.”

  I gasped and turned to him. “No.”

  He hung his head. “Angie, you didn’t choose this. You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

  “But I couldn’t. I would never be able to live with that decision. No matter how hard it will be to be pregnant, it would be so much worse, if I did that.”

  “I meant it. What happened doesn’t change how I feel about you. I really care for you, Ang.” He closed the gap between us, his intent obvious as he leaned toward me. The hammering of my heart was audible as I wrestled with myself. I wanted him to kiss me, but I feared it, just as much as I yearned for it.

  I flinched slightly at the touch of his lips, but didn’t pull back, the soft lingering kiss reminiscent of our first kiss, what seemed like ages ago after that first football game. He groaned deep in his chest when my fingertips found the pulse in the hollow of his throat. The strength of his embrace caused me to grow rigid. My eyes flew open, and I shoved him, the similarity to Brad’s forceful hold frightening.

  I whimpered, “Stop, stop, no, please, no.”

  He let go of me, his expression staggered, his eyes filled with pain and doubt.

  Without thinking, I fled toward the Jeep, frantically climbing into the cab. My fingers shook as I pulled the door closed between us.

  He moved around to his side and opened the door, remaining on the asphalt. “Angie, hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” He spoke as though he were talking to a spooked horse, his words gradually permeating my fevered brain.

  I tucked my legs to my chest and looked uncomfortably at Cory, his head only slightly lower than mine from my perch. He climbed into his seat and extended his hand toward me. When I cringed, he hesitated, hand mid-air, before dropping it to his side with a horrified murmur. “What did he do to you?”

  I grimaced and bowed my head at his bleak tone. Unwilling and unable to answer, not fully knowing myself just how deep my wounds went, I let the silence envelop us. Staring numbly at the dash, the collective memory of our encounters and dates flashed before me, our relationship cruelly cut short before it had even really began.

  “Cory, I’m sorry. I can’t … we can’t … Can you take me home?”

  Moisture glistened unmistakably on his cheek in the glow of the streetlight. “Sure.” His voice broke, an edgy quality to it, like he was barely hanging on.

  When he climbed behind the wheel, I wiped at the single tear on his cheek with the pad of my thumb. “Cory,” I started, uncertainty, regret, and fear froze me, but I shook it off and plowed forward, anxious to get it over with, “It kills me to see your pain. But I’m messed up. And that’s not fair to you. I can’t even let you kiss me without freaking out. You … you should be with someone …” I faltered, images of Cali Johnson springing to mind, her and Cory embracing. Jealousy and pain stabbed to the center of my core. “… more like you. Someone whole. Like Cali Johnson.”

  “Cali Johnson?” The corner of his mouth quirked up.

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Of course not.” He tried to disguise his humor by coughing.

  “I saw you with her.” Suddenly furious, I jabbed a finger at him, but just as quickly my anger cooled. “And … that’s okay. You should move on.”

  “Move on? What … with Cali?” His perplexed expression might have been comical if I were in any state to appreciate it.

  “Cory, I’ll make this easy. I don’t want you.” Emphasizing each word, I hoped he couldn’t hear the lie.

  I expected him to tear out of there in his Jeep. I did not expect the fleeting pain in his eyes, quickly replaced by a stubborn look of determination, nor the manhandling as he gripped my shoulders firmly.

  “Angie, Cali’s just a friend. She’ll never be anything more. She was trying to cheer me up. I didn’t know what to do about losing you. And I don’t believe, even for a second, you don’t want me.” Without warning he pulled me to him, holding me tenderly but firmly. My initial reaction of panic was quelled by the gentle caress on my back and his whispered, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  His tender smile brought tears of relief, peace and serenity I surrendered to his embrace. He softly pressed a kiss to my temple. When he straightened, his smile was victorious, almost cocky. “I mean it. I want you, no matter what you decide. And I’m not giving you up without a fight.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The atmosphere in the school had been charged this past week. That was the only way to describe it. Everyone, teachers and students alike, was anxious for the long awaited playoffs. Normally the season would have ended a month ago, but we’d made it to the state finals. It was scheduled for tonight, Friday, at the Belt Arena, a huge indoor field protected from the chilling winter weather that had fallen by an enormous metal dome.

  And Cory was going to get to play in them.

  I’d consented to continue tutoring him after much begging and pleading on his part. So after giving strict conditions, I’d agreed. Only at school, never alone, and he had to stop trying to win me over. I needed time to heal. But he had a request as well.

 
“Come watch the playoffs. You’ll feel better if you get out.” He had pouted at me across the library table. We had just got news he was definitely going to be allowed to play. Turned out he really didn’t need a tutor. At first it had just been a ploy to get with me, not that he’d had to. And then after I’d ended things, he’d been unable to concentrate on anything and English hadn’t been the only class he’d been close to failing.

  “I don’t know, Cory. That’s a whole lot of … happy … to deal with.”

  “Why can’t you be happy?”

  “This isn’t about my happiness. It’s your playoffs.” We’d had this discussion before, about my happiness. I didn’t want to do it again. “Fine, Cory, I’ll come. As a friend.”

  But now with the prospect of going in front of me, I wondered why I’d agreed. I didn’t want to be surrounded by hundreds of screaming, cheerful spectators. At school I’d managed to keep up the appearance that I was fine, but every night I’d break down and cry myself to sleep, waking in a cold sweat, only to repeat the process. The endless morning sickness served as a constant reminder of my attack and subsequent pregnancy. I couldn’t just brush it under the rug and ignore it. It was always there. It was worse than the emotional rollercoaster I’d been on after the rape. My mom told me it was the pregnancy hormones. Like I needed another reminder.

  “Ang, you’d better get going if you’re going to make it in time.” She stood in my doorway, her hand on the doorjamb, her face pale and pinched.

  “You sure about letting me go?” I was half hoping she’d say she’d changed her mind, but realized I was actually looking forward to getting out of the house.

  “Yes. I trust JJ and I have to let you … you need to start living again.” Her eyes flitted to my abdomen, and they glittered with moisture. “You can’t stay holed up in here forever.”

  I clutched my middle and sat on the edge of my bed. “Mom, what am I going to do?” I did have a plan, but every now and then my despair would surge up to overwhelm me. It was getting a bit less each day.

  Instantly, she was at my side, holding me. We had talked about the options, gone over them again and again. “I’ve told you what I would do. But this is your decision. You’ll have to live with it.”

  “JJ should be here soon. I’m going to wait for her outside.” I straightened up and adjusted my baggy clothing. I’d taken to dressing in oversized sweatshirts and loose track pants hoping if I dressed this way I could hide the evidence of my disgrace longer.

  She patted my back and swallowed. “Alright.”

  I came to a halt in the living room, the sight of my dad asleep in his recliner, his gentle snores making me smile, a warm glow in my chest. If there was one positive thing about my ordeal it was that I felt closer to my parents, their attentions and concern had increased exponentially—my dad had tried to make himself more available, getting off work early some nights, making sure we ate together as a family, though the subject of my rape and pregnancy was never broached. I wasn’t ever sure what to say, nor was he. So we avoided it.

  “You sure you’re going to be alright?”

  “Yes, Mom. I’ll be fine. If I get overwhelmed, I’ll come home early. JJ’s fine with that.”

  “Okay, be careful.” She moved over to me and was hugging me tightly, pecking me quickly on the cheek. “I love you, Angela.”

  “Yep, love you too, Mom.” I carefully leaned over to place a kiss on my sleeping dad’s cheek. He twitched when my lips touch his sandpapery cheek and muttered. I smiled. “See ya later.”

  It wasn’t JJ’s rust-bucket that turned the corner a few moments later, but her dad’s Chevy truck. “My dad was worried about the roads.”

  I climbed in, adjusted my seatbelt and leaned back. My insides twisted with ten percent excitement ninety percent anxiety. I had promised to go, but how would he know if I missed it? Maybe JJ and I could just go catch a movie somewhere where no one knew me. Where I wouldn’t be watched and whispered about.

  “It’s going to be great.” JJ, like always, read my body language and patted my knee, then switched up the radio, rocking to a Pitbull song. Her good vibes were contagious and I smiled, though not quite ready to join in. The song ended and a new one came on. I didn’t know the name of it, but the refrain sang of love.

  “Can we … turn the music off?”

  “Sure.” JJ flicked the dial and quiet descended on the cab. “So, have you decided what you’re going to do?”

  She didn’t have to specify, I knew what she meant. I had told her I’d tell her tonight. She hadn’t wasted any time. “I’m going to put the baby up for adoption.”

  “What? Why? No one would think badly of you if you aborted.”

  “Maybe not, but I would. This is a life. I didn’t choose for this to happen, but I can choose for some good to come from it. There are people who can’t have kids. Why not let them have this one?”

  “Well, you’re stronger than I am.”

  She drove and I stared out the window, neither of us speaking for a time. “So what’s going on with you and Cory?”

  “We’re friends. That’s all.” We’d already gone over this, too, so her question made me angry. “I’m baggage. He doesn’t need that.”

  “Well, he’s not buying it.”

  “He’ll see it once I’m as big as a whale.”

  “Aargh, you’re impossible.” She pressed a hand to her face and rubbed it, her breath expelling. “So, we’re here. We gonna get out?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged.

  “What, we’re just gonna sit here, wait for the game to get over?”

  “Sure, sounds good to me.”

  “Angie, seriously, if you weren’t my best friend, I’d beat you.”

  I chuckled and held up my hands like a boxer and jabbed. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Whatever. Let’s go, funny girl. I don’t want to miss out on those tight butts.”

  Smiling again, I swung my door open and breathed in the clean night air and looked up at the sky. It felt good to smile. Brilliant stars dotted the darkening canvas, reminding me of carefree summer nights sleeping out on the trampoline, giggling with JJ about guys. Guys like Cory. My smile fell. I shook my head at the prickle in my eyes, and jogged to catch up with JJ.

  We paid for our tickets, the long lobby full with people, concession windows open along the length of it, lines forming for pre-game goodies. We funneled into a tunnel, shuffling along like cattle, and emerged into a brightly lit stadium, the air in the mini-dome charged. I could almost feel the energy. The noise of the crowd was swallowed by the wide-open space of the huge dome.

  JJ was a few steps in front of me, about to go up the stairs of the bleachers when the worry and fear swelled. The stands were full, swarming with many familiar faces, some turning to look at me. I was rooted to the spot.

  “JJ!” I shouted, but she didn’t hear me through the cacophony of the crowd. Mounting the steps she finally turned, motioning for me to follow.

  I shook my head and backed away. At a safe distance where I couldn’t actually see the judgmental looks I was sure to get if anyone noticed me, I waited for JJ to join me.

  She nudged me with her elbow and grinned. “I like this spot better anyway. Better view of the eye candy.”

  “You’re horrible,” I said. I leaned into her as she wrapped her arm around my shoulders. Resting my head on her shoulder, my eyes were drawn to the tall, strong, athletic form of Cory, the number 35 emblazoned in white on his purple jersey. Against the bright green of the fake turf covering the field, the several dozen, solidly built football players were dwarfed.

  “You know, you should see the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention, like a lost puppy with his big wide eyes. But if you continue to push him away, you will lose him.”

  I pursed my lips and stepped away. That was sort of what my counselor had said. She said I didn’t have to give up the idea of Cory and me. I didn’t quite believe her, but I held tight t
o the thought. Maybe when this whole thing was over, maybe Cory might be there, he might still want me.

  Never taking my eyes off Cory, I followed him as he trotted off the field and slugged down his water. A trio of cheerleaders came up to him, each one giving him a hug in turn. I ground my teeth. He was mine, the pain in my chest screamed. My brain reminded me otherwise.

  The buzzer sounded a few times as a warning the game was about to get under way, and I jumped, the rush of my blood drowning out the roar of the crowd. A wave of purple rippled around me, through the stands, people roared as the game commenced. Cory slammed into the other team’s running back, smashing him to the ground, the ball bouncing across the field. He dove to retrieve it, and my chest swelled with pride.

  I swiveled to take my seat, my eyes passing over the throng, an icy chill settling into my stomach as I met the dark eyed gaze of the last person I ever wanted to see again. Brad smiled coolly down at me, his arm around a petite blonde as they settled into their seats, a few sections over, several rows up. What is he doing here?

  “Angie, you okay? You look like …” She trailed off as she followed my gaze and caught sight of Brad’s leering stare.

  My whole body shook. A fine covering of goose bumps decorated my exposed skin, my breath wheezing in and out of my chest. JJ guided me to my seat, speaking in a hushed tone, but all I saw was the rail right in front of me.

  “Angie, come on, let’s go.” JJ was steering me away from our seats, drawing away from the railing, from the game and from Cory.

  “Wha … no, no. I can’t keep hiding, right?” My mom was right, my counselor was right. And I wanted to see Cory play.

  She walked with me to the edge of the rail, my eyes going to the ground directly below us. I pressed myself to the bars, the cold metal solid and unrelenting. A clamor of cheering and yelling erupted. My heart lurched into my throat as I watched Cory pelt down the field, half the opposing team on his tail. He was several yards ahead on the far side of the field, his arms out to receive the ball. It soared through the air and he leaped impressively into the air, catching the ball squarely in his chest, landing smoothly, shifting into a fast loping run. The ball securely folded into his chest, he was only yards from a touchdown when a single Bulldog broke from the pack, hot on his heels.

 

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