Nothing, though. I’m past the door and about to exit the gym in disappointment when an arm hooks around me from behind. I freeze, shocked, and a hand presses something over my mouth.
Duct tape, I think. I’m picked up and thrown over someone’s shoulder, my heart pounding frantically. I kick, which is all I can do since my arms are being held tight to my sides. As I twist my body, trying to get free, I see who has me, and my heart feels like it may stop.
Jack Pearson.
He struggles to get the locker room door open, using his foot so he can keep both arms holding me captive.
The harder I struggle against him, the harder it gets to breathe through my nose, which is my only option now. I’m getting light-headed, so I try to focus just on a few deep breaths.
Jack sets me on the ground in front of some lockers, caging me in with his forearms pressed to the lockers on either side of me. The swelling on his eye has gone down since last week, but it’s still a mean shade of purple.
“Chase isn’t here to protect you this time, is he?” He pushes his sweaty face just a couple inches from mine. “You ruined everything, you bitch. We lost our captain, I lost my friend. All because you think you’re too good to spread your fucking legs.”
My chest heaves in and out as I breathe, the difficulty almost as terrifying as whatever Jack’s about to do.
“You’re gonna make this right.” His tone is low, his lips so close to my face I turn to the side, trying to avoid him.
I don’t have breath to spare, but a muffled scream comes out as a hum in my chest as Jack grabs the waistband of my gray sweats and pulls them down.
Horror overwhelms me as the air hits my bare thighs. I’m still light-headed, and now I’m about to vomit too. If I do, and Jack leaves the tape on my mouth, I could choke.
Stay calm, Gin.
I think of my mom and what she’d tell me right now. Stay calm. Think. Don’t give in to the fear.
Jack’s working on getting his own pants down now, and I use the opportunity to shove him away from me. He doesn’t go very far, though. He’s so much bigger and stronger that he has his hands wrapped around my upper arms in a matter of seconds, and he slams me against the lockers, pain shooting through the back of my head as it strikes the metal.
“Fight if you want,” he sneers and winks. “I’ll just enjoy it more.”
I head-butt him, desperate to fight back, but I don’t hit him hard enough to hurt much. He wraps a hand around my hair and shoves my head down on the locker room’s wood bench, my cheek burning from the impact.
“It would have been easier at the cabin,” he says, shoving his pants down with his free hand.
Suddenly, I see a part of Jack Pearson I never wanted to see. I realize how close I am to being raped, and I stop thinking and just react. I grab at him with both hands, clawing and pinching.
He slams my head against the bench again, sending stars into my field of vision. I don’t let up, though. I grab his pathetic little dick and scratch with all my strength. I pull on his nuts and squeeze his balls so hard he cries out in pain.
“Fucking bitch!” He instinctively covers his parts with both hands, and I stand up, ripping the tape from my mouth.
I gulp in air as Jack lunges for me, and I kick and push at him to keep him from getting both arms around me. My terror seems to be giving me extra strength. Every time he gets closer, I back away and somehow manage to keep him from pinning me again.
“You. Owe. Me.” He gives me a murderous glare and then lunges, taking hold of both my wrists. I drive a knee up into his balls, twisting so hard and fast I feel a sharp pull in my back.
He folds over in pain, both hands on his crotch as he howls, and I make a run for it. Adrenaline pumps through me hard and fast, a voice inside telling me this may be the only chance I get to escape.
I move as fast as I can, holding my pants up just enough to get a hand on the door handle and open it. When I’m in the gym, I break into a run, pulling my pants all the way up as I go.
I can breathe again. I’m free. But I’m not safe yet. I have to get to people.
Going back in the direction I came, I decide Mr. Douglas is my best hope. I know he’s in the theater right now. I get to the other gym door, open it, and burst wild-eyed into the hallway.
Empty, except for Chase.
“Gin!” He drops his helmet in front of the water fountain he was drinking from and runs toward me. “Oh my God, are you okay?”
He reaches for me, but he stops his hands in midair. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Tears flood my eyes as I look at him. Now, I’m safe. I just want him to hold on to me right now, whether it hurts or not.
“I—” I’m interrupted by the opening of the door I just walked out of.
Jack’s expression is dark, and his hair and clothes are a mess. He looks from me to Chase, then abruptly turns back and closes the door.
Chase cups my cheek gently. “Tell me you’re okay.”
I nod, tears clouding my vision.
“I have to go get him, Gin. Before he has a chance to…shower.” He cringes, his own eyes glassy with tears. “Go find Mr. Douglas. Call the police. Do that for me, okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
He presses a tender kiss to my forehead, then runs through the door after Jack. I make it the last hundred yards back to the theater, not seeing or hearing anything around me until I find Mr. Douglas.
“Gin.” He looks at me, his brow furrowed in concern. “What happened?”
I swallow hard and find my voice. “Call the police.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chase
Gin sets a pillow on my lap and then gingerly lowers her head onto it, curling up and closing her eyes.
“I’ve still got a headache,” she murmurs. “Even with all the medicine they gave me at the hospital.”
“Just relax,” I say, carefully brushing the hair away from her face.
One side of her face is swollen and purple with bruises. Every time I look at her, my stomach turns in disgust. I’m not just angry at Jack this time. Giving him a black eye isn’t going to help.
I want to kill him. I feel an even deeper rage toward him than I do my father. Jack didn’t just beat Gin. He tried to rape her. If she hadn’t somehow fought him off, she would have been sexually assaulted in the locker room I’d been standing in just a few minutes before.
It’s been a hell of an evening. Gin’s mom took her to the hospital, and the tests, treatments, and police interviews took a couple hours. I sat in the waiting room with Lauren, Raj, and Michelle, where Lauren gave me a death stare the entire time. Our principal, Mr. Schilling, and our assistant principal, Mrs. Metz, stayed outside Gin’s room the whole time to be there for her and her mom.
Things are going to change now. I got that from the look on Mrs. Metz’s face when she asked me to go to a conference room for a few minutes as we waited for Gin to be released. Mrs. Metz’s eyes swam with judgment and determination as she asked me about the Sweet Sixteen.
I told her everything. As far as I’m concerned, all bets are off. There’s no such thing as brotherhood or loyalty between Jack and me anymore, or any of the other guys who’ve been part of those parties.
I’ll own the consequences for what I’ve done. In a way, it’s a relief. I’ve been condemning myself over it, but I know I can’t even begin to move on until I feel the full weight of what’s sure to come.
Maybe I’ll get kicked off the team. Hell, our entire football program could be suspended. But so be it. I can’t think long-term right now. Who gives a shit about protecting my college prospects after what happened today?
My phone blew up with texts all evening; some messages were people mining for information, but others were people saying Jack had taken things too far.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Gin.
“I’m okay,” she says softly.
She’s been the one comforting her mom and me, instead of the othe
r way around. I knew Gin was strong, but tonight, I’m finding I didn’t know just how strong.
When Mr. Schilling told her she’s excused from school for the rest of the week to heal, and the next week if needed, she shook her head.
“I’ll take tomorrow off,” she said. “That’ll be enough.”
Mr. Schilling cleared his throat and tried again. “I think at least the whole week, though, don’t you?” He looked at Gin’s mom. “Seeing you like this could be disturbing for other students.”
“It should disturb them,” Gin said. “Sexual assault isn’t just words on a pamphlet, you know.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” her mom said. “But you weren’t raped, right? Not at all? Because if you were—”
“No. I clawed the shit out of his dick and balls, so they should be out of commission for a while.”
Mr. Schilling looked horrified; Mrs. Metz couldn’t hold back a smile. I’d never been prouder of another person in my life.
Jack is a lot bigger than Gin, and he’s a hell of a lot stronger. But somehow, she found a way.
When I caught Jack earlier, I got in some good hits. He got me back once in the jaw, but I broke his fucking nose.
“I never imagined I’d be here,” Gin says from my lap, her words slightly slurred from the medications she’s on.
“I’m gonna break Jack’s nose again after it heals,” I mutter.
“No, I don’t mean that… I’m fine, Chase, really. Relieved. And tired. I mean…I never thought you’d be here…on my couch, with my head on your lap.”
I smile down at her. “Yeah, me either.”
“Do you know?” she murmurs, looking at me expectantly.
“Do I know what, Ginger?”
“That I’ve had a crush on you forever. Since before junior high?”
She wouldn’t tell me this if she weren’t so loopy from the hospital drugs. But there’s something about seeing her this way, so vulnerable, that makes me feel like now it’s me who has a crush on her.
“I know now,” I say, lightly running my fingers over her hair. “And it’s a mutual crush, just so you know.”
“But not before,” she says so softly I almost can’t hear her. “Before…you didn’t even know I existed.”
“I was an asshole,” I admit. “But I see you now, Gin. Trust me. I see you even when I’m not looking at you.”
A smile curls up the corners of her lips as she closes her eyes.
“I’ll tell you a secret in return,” I say.
I’m pretty sure she’s nearly asleep, so I keep stroking her hair, thinking about the way to say this. But it’s one of those things there’s no easy way to describe.
“My dad beats my mom,” I finally say. “I’ve never told anyone that. It’s the dirty secret in our house. He hits her when he’s drunk, when he’s pissed off…when it’s Tuesday. He doesn’t need a fucking reason. And when I saw what Jack did to you, I thought about my mom. About how I wish she was as strong as you, to go to the police.”
Gin’s still and silent, so I don’t think she heard me. But then she shifts a little, finding my hand and weaving her fingers into mine.
And we stay like that as she falls asleep. I drift off myself, and when I wake up close to midnight, I carefully slide out from beneath her head, cover her up, and brush a soft kiss over her lips before letting myself out a side door, locking it behind me.
I never thought I’d be disgusted to be seen in a Roper football jersey, but today, I am. It’s Friday—game day.
I tried to quit the team yesterday when I dumped my jerseys on Coach Carter’s desk at lunch. He told me he didn’t accept and would send a freshman over to my house to return them that night. That meant nothing to me and I wasn’t planning to play, but Gin convinced me to.
She told me that my walking onto the field every Friday night for the rest of the season is like her walking back into school Wednesday morning with her face bruised and swollen. It was proof that we won’t be brought down by all this—that we’re stronger than that.
So here I am, dressing for a game against Mercer, hoping Jack can see from my glare across the visitors’ locker room that I’d rather kick his ass than the other team’s tonight.
I can’t fucking believe he’s playing tonight. That’s the reason I tried to quit the team. He was arrested for battery and sexual assault, but his parents bailed him out and he’s still allowed to come to school and be on the team until his case is settled. Only in Roper.
Innocent until proven guilty, Coach Carter said. Bullshit. I saw Gin’s face after what happened, and I saw Jack’s. That fucker is guilty, and he deserves to be in jail.
The school district is working with the police department, and they hired a security guard for Gin while she’s at school. Her mom hired another one for when she’s not at school.
I can’t believe it’s come to this. Gin’s endured so much, all because of my brilliant fucking idea to give her that rose.
She keeps telling me it’s not my fault, that change is painful for some people. Girls have been coming up to her at school and telling her they’re sorry for not supporting her before and that they do now.
It’s something.
“Get your heads out of your asses, boys!” Coach Carter yells. “It’s game time. We have to leave all the drama and baggage in this locker room. Out on that field, we’re one. We’re a team.”
I narrow my eyes at him, because rape isn’t “drama.”
Now that I’m seeing things through Gin’s eyes, I get it. The things we’d say and do to excuse our shit behavior. The glossing over it by our coach, parents, and even teachers. That whole “I don’t want to know” attitude.
All of it—bullshit.
When it’s time, I put my helmet on and lead the team onto the field. It’s not for them, I remind myself. Not for my worthless father. Not for myself. I’m here for Gin. If she can get through what she did, I can sure as hell do this.
We have a rocky start, to say the least. Everything just feels off tonight. I’m not paying attention to pre-snap reads. I’m sluggish and unfocused. It’s all I can do not to drop the fucking ball, plow into Jack, and smash my fist into his already-smashed-up nose.
Gin told the cops it was her who broke his nose so I wouldn’t get in trouble. Jack didn’t say different. And everyone in school thinks she’s a badass.
Mercer scores on us in the first quarter. No matter how loud Coach yells in my face, I just can’t make myself care. The whole “win at any cost” attitude is what got us where we are, and I’m done with all that.
But then they score again in the second quarter. Some of my throws are good, some are off, but none of them is enough. We’re down 14-0 at the half.
Our side of the stands is deathly quiet as we jog past to the locker room. I sink onto a bench and bury my face in my hands.
“What in the actual fuck is going on?” Coach Carter kicks over a folding chair, and it clatters loudly over the tile floor. “It’s like watching a fucking powder-puff team!”
“I can’t catch bad throws,” Jack says, throwing his arms in the air.
I scowl at him. “You can’t seem to catch good ones either.”
“Chase, you’ve got no reason to be making bad throws tonight,” Coach says. “This is Mercer. Fucking Mercer. They’re probably having a circle jerk in their locker room right now over this score.”
I sigh heavily, the desire to win ingrained deep inside me, like it or not.
“My ribs are sore as shit,” I say. “And my shoulder. The line doesn’t seem to give a shit about protecting me tonight.”
Coach turns to the offensive line players. “If any player in this room wouldn’t lay down on the field and let a motherfucking semi run over you to protect Chase, get out of here right now. I won’t tolerate you letting personal bullshit get in the way of this team.”
No one moves.
“Sorry, Chase,” Sam Stockwell says. “I left you open in the second quarter, but
it wasn’t on purpose.”
“Get. Your. Shit. Together,” Coach says. “All of you.”
We come out strong in the third quarter, scoring right away. I’m imagining Gin is watching from the stands, cheering for me. We tie the game at fourteen at the start of the fourth quarter, but Mercer kicks a field goal and takes a 17-14 lead.
Time seems to stop near the end of the game. My shoulder is so sore that I overthrow a pass and Jack dives for it, but it bounces off his hands and gets intercepted.
And then as the clock counts down to zero, I have to watch from the bench as the other team snaps one play and the quarterback takes a knee. My heart is in my throat as the scoreboard timer hits zero.
Zero.
It’s over.
We lost.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gin
It takes almost three weeks for my face to heal. And when I look in the mirror that first morning after every bruise has healed, I see a different girl looking back at me.
I’ve been hurt and scared before, but never like I was that day in the locker room. I survived, though, and I was braced to survive the aftermath too. I figured there would be more harassment after, because I’d be perceived as screwing with the Roper status quo yet again.
Not this time, though. There were stares and whispers the day after, but the anger that had been directed at me pretty much disappeared. People saw my beaten face, heard what Jack had tried to do to me, and decided enough was enough.
Girls have come up to me since and thanked me for what I’ve done. Even guys look at me with something new. I don’t know if it’s respect or just neutrality, but it’s better than before.
There’s a girl with wiser eyes looking back at me now. She’s a few pounds thinner, because her jaws ached so badly it was hard to eat solid foods for a while.
Still, I sipped my protein shakes in the cafeteria every day, my head held high and my security guard conspicuously nearby at another table. The day I returned to school, Chase was waiting at my lunch table. He’s sat beside me every day since, Lauren glaring at him most of the time.
Sweet Sixteen Page 14
