Another New Life

by Sydney Aaliyah Michelle

  I opened my door. The empty room looked different. I heard the shower running. Darcy's unmade bed looked well slept in. My first thought was she got lucky last night.

  The shower cut off and a few minutes later; she entered the room, but it wasn't her. It was a guy. I couldn't see his face. He had one towel drying his hair and another wrapped around his waist.

  I cleared my throat. "Excuse me."

  "Oh, hey, I didn't know you were back." He removed the towel from his head. It wasn't some random guy.

  Scott stood in my dorm room half naked, smiling at me.

  "Miranda."

  He said my name and the coffee and bagel threatening to make another appearance.

  "Is that you? I saw a photo of you, actually, one hundred photos of you last night on Troy's phone."

  "What—" I tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out.

  "We missed you last night. Miranda and Troy back together again after all these years. Insane."

  Scott's creepy laugh made my skin itch. I rubbed my arm as he started walking toward me. He took a few steps, and then stopped.

  "Maybe I should put some pants on first." He laughed again as he grabbed his pants from the chair and went into the bathroom to get dressed. He left the door open. I couldn't escape without him seeing me.

  "Drove down from Dallas. I had to see my little brother's first start. The ending of the game sucked, but my little brother, he's going to be big time."

  I heard him speak, but didn't understand the words. I concentrated on not repeating the panic attacked from the night before. I needed to think.

  "There." He walked out of the bathroom pulling his shirt over his head. "That's a bit more appropriate. Thank you for the use of your room. That Darcy is quite the hospitable little girl."

  His voice hadn't changed. The way he said "little girl" bought back every sick memory of what he did to me, and I couldn't hear him speak another word.

  "You need to leave."

  He had the audacity to look confused. It enraged me even more.

  “Get out of my room!” I yelled.

  I didn't care if I woke the whole dorm up. The realization that this asshole slept with my roommate hit me in the stomach. He disgusted me.

  He walked toward me, and I backed up and hit my hip on my desk.

  I thought I stabbed myself. I looked down for a second and didn't realize he had continued toward me until he touched my arm.

  "You okay?"

  I whipped my hand away.

  "Don't touch me. Don't ever touch me again."

  He backed up a little, but not enough for my comfort.

  "What the fuck’s wrong with you?" he said.

  "You touched me when I was little. You did things to me. You told me how little girls are supposed to wrestle. You made me touch you. You messed me up. In my head"—I hit my head with the palm of my hand—"for so long. The idea of you makes me sick."

  My whole body shook as I willed him to leave. My heart raced, and I panicked because the fog threatened to take over my brain again, but I pushed it back and continued to tell him what he did to me.

  "You asked me if I knew how to tell if a guy liked me, and you made me touch you. I was ten years old, you sick fuck. How could you do that to a little girl? You're disgusting. Get out!"

  The smug look froze on Scott's stupid face. I wanted to go after him, but I couldn't imagine having to touch him. The thought made my skin crawl. I blocked out the entire world. My one and only goal was to make sure this sick asshole understood what he did to me and to get him out of my room.

  I was so angry, so focused on my goal, I didn't notice Troy and Darcy standing in the entryway until Troy said my name.

  "Miranda," Troy yelled.

  ***

  I wanted to run into his arm and bury my head in his neck, but Scott stood between us. I wanted him to come to me and hold me and protect me from what was happened, but he didn't. He stood inside the door. He took a step forward. His eyes widen in disbelief.

  "Miranda."

  I pleaded with him to help me. He wasn't getting the message. I thought if he came closer and looked into my eyes he would know I was telling the truth.

  "Dude, I don't know what's going on with your girl." Scott grabbed his jacket and his shoes. "She's fucking crazy."

  He walked to the door, kissed Darcy on the cheek, and left.

  "Oh, God." I felt sick from witnessing him touch someone I love.

  Troy's green eyes turned dark as he stared. It showed on his face. He walked over to me, but it was too late. I could see it in his eyes. He didn't believe me.

  My stomach cramped, and I hugged myself until it dissipated. I hugged myself because Troy wouldn't. I sat down on the edge of my bed trying to calm down.

  "Why would you say something like that?"

  "Because it's true," I whispered.

  "It can't be. We were always together. I don't remember... That's disgusting."

  I appreciated his brain trying to come up with some clue, some evidence to what I proclaimed, but there wasn't any. It was my word against Scott’s.

  I sat in silence staring at the floor.

  "Take it back."

  "I can't."

  "But he's my brother."

  The pain in his voice caused another cramp to squeeze my stomach and grip my insides. It moved into my chest, and I rocked back and forth trying to make it go away.

  "Troy, I'm sorry." I reached out and grabbed his hand, but he jerked it away.

  "You're lying." He stood closer. Now I preferred he back off. He stood over me and yelled, "Miranda, take it back."

  I looked up at him, and the rage evident on his face scared me. His eyes watered, but the tears wouldn't fall.

  "Troy," Darcy called from the door, "back off."

  She walked over and stood between us, pushing him back.

  "Get out."

  He looked at me, and I watched him back out of my room. By the look in his eyes, he wanted so badly for me to tell him it wasn't true, that I made it up, but I couldn't. I had released the truth to the universe, and now that it was out there, I would have to deal with the consequences. It was unfair, but Troy would have to deal with it too.

  When he reached the door, he looked back and locked eyes with me one more time, pleading with me to take it back. I stood up. I thought maybe if I grabbed him and held on for dear life he would come to believe me. I started toward the door, but the look on his face stopped me in my tracks. He walked through the door and slammed it shut. I grabbed my chest. It felt like he slammed the door on my heart.

  He couldn't wait to get as far away from me as he could.

  Darcy sat on my bed. I sat down next to her, and we both stared at the messy sheets on her bed.

  "When did he do those things to you?" she asked.

  "It started when I was eight. Happened three or four times until I was ten and we moved away."

  "How could you date Troy, knowing what his brother did to you?" Great question. Did I really think he wouldn't find out?

  "I don't know. One had nothing to do with the other. Troy said he hadn't seen his brother in years. I tried to tell him once, but I was scared it would make things worse." I looked over at her bed and back at her. "This is so much worse. Are you okay?"

  "Well, last night I had sex with a man who molested my best friend as a child," she said, and giggled with tears in her eyes. "That's pretty fucked up."

  "Darcy." I laid my head on her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

  "It's not your fault."

  Darcy slid back to the wall, and I did the same.

  "Thank you."

  "For what?" Darcy asked.

  "For believing me."

  "Well, if those are the types of story you make up to get attention, well, no offense, I'd be asking for a new roommate next semester."

  "Troy doesn't believe me. What am I going to do?"

  "You mean after you help me burn those sheets?"

  "After that."
/>   "Give him some time to cool off and then go talk to him." She stood up. "He loves you; you guys will figure it out."

  After cleaning up Darcy's indiscretion, I logged a couple of hours on the piano to get my mind clear. Let's face it, I was stalling, but eventually I headed over to Troy's house.

  I held out hope he would forgive me, but at the least, I needed him to believe me. Hell, I'd be happy if he listened to me.

  If I could explain, then he might understand what happened, and why I didn't tell him. We might not be together again, but at least there would be no more secrets between us.

  The idea gave me some peace. I've been holding on to this for eight years.

  When I turned onto Troy's street, the sound of an ambulance siren made me jump. Someone else was having a bad day, too.

  They came to a screeching halt in front of Troy's house. I took off running.

  The paramedics stood at the door ringing the doorbell when I arrived. Ryan answered and ushered them in.

  "He's in here."

  Who was in here? Who were they talking about?

  "9-1-1 said there was some kind of altercation?"

  "Yeah, the kid's face is pretty bad."

  Someone messed up Troy's face?

  "The paramedics went straight to the body laying on the kitchen floor and I let out a sign of relief. Troy stood in the hallway to his bedroom, icing his hand. Besides his purple, bruised eye and red knuckles, Troy looked fine.

  Scott lay on the floor passed out. I couldn't see his face, but the blood pooling on the floor underneath his head made me cringe.

  "How long has he been out?" the paramedic asked.

  "He's been in and out for the last five minutes," Ryan said.

  I surveyed the room and noticed the overturned kitchen table. The chairs pushed against the walls. A few dishes had been broken, and the couch had been moved.

  I stood in the living room watching the scene. Imagining what it must have been like a few minutes ago.

  Troy noticed me walk in but didn't speak. He caught my gaze and looked down. Shame contorted his face into someone I barely recognized.

  Scott made a sick, gurgling noise that turned my stomach. I sat on the edge of the couch. Troy sat down on the opposite end. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. I wanted to crawl across the couch and hold him. I wanted to rub his neck and run my hands through his curly hair and whisper everything was going to be all right.

  I stayed on my end of the couch.

  Scott spoke, and we both turned in his direction. He tried to sit up, but the paramedics held him down. He continued to thrash around, so they gave him a sedative. Two of the paramedics finished assessing his injuries. The third came over and spoke with Troy.

  "You did this to him."

  "Yes."

  "How many times did you hit him?"

  "I don't know," Troy answered. "I don't remember."

  "You know this guy?"

  "He's my half-brother."

  The paramedic looked around at each of us for confirmation, but we all stared at the floor.

  "You definitely busted his nose. He's going to need some plastic surgery. He has a few cracked ribs."

  "Okay."

  "You want me to take a look at your hand, make sure it's okay?"

  "It's fine," Troy whispered.

  "I wouldn't be surprised if you broke a finger or two with the force you must have hit him with."

  "It's fine," Troy said louder.

  "What started the fight?"

  Troy looked at me and said, "Nothing."

  "Troy, I get it. Brothers fight, but this is serious. You're going to have to give me more information or I'm going to have to contact the police."

  Troy remained silent.

  We watched the guy as he walked outside. I turned back and found Troy's gaze had settled on me. He didn't look away. I interpreted his look as a sign.

  "Babe, what happened?"

  "We are not doing this," Troy said. He stood up and returned to the hallway. His tone caused my muscles to tense. I couldn't believe my sweet Troy. The one who was so nice, so gentle, so kind and caring to me. Now he hated me.

  The only consolation was maybe the fight meant he believed me. If Troy believed me, there was a chance we could get back to what we had.

  I didn't fully realize how what happened to me back then would affect the rest of my life. I dismissed it as no big deal. I never blamed myself for it happening. I blamed Scott. He should have known better.

  How I dealt with it later on, I took full responsibility for that. I told Troy about my not-so-innocent past. He accepted it. How was this any different?

  Hey, look at me being positive. Darcy would be so proud, but my head dropped into my hands anyway because this was different.

  ***

  I heard the front door open and leaped up when I saw the police enter.

  "You can't arrest him," I said blocking the officer from Troy. "It was my fault. Arrest me."

  The officer basically walked through me. I wasn't much of a barrier. He was twice my size in height and about three times my size in width.

  The officer looked back at the paramedic and down at me.

  "Young lady, please have a seat." The officer turned to Troy. "You want to tell me what happened?"

  "Nothing happened. I got in a fight. The other guy lost."

  The robotic response further clued me in. He wasn't ready to deal with this, any of it.

  The officers looked at me and then back at Troy. He turned Troy around and walked him down the hall. I didn't notice the other office until he commanded me to sit down when I tried to follow Troy.

  The paramedics hoisted Scott up on a gurney, ready to transport him to the ambulance. The sedative didn't knock him out; it only calmed him down. As they rolled him through the living room, his eyes locked on mine and in a cracked voice, he said, "You loved it, you fucking bitch."

  Hearing him admit it shocked the hell out of me. By the look on Ryan's face, he heard it too.

  "Son of a bitch," he said under his breath.

  Ten minutes later, Troy and Officer Jimmy came out of his bedroom. Troy walked in front. The officer guided him with a hand on his shoulder.

  Troy wouldn't look at me; the officer addressed Ryan.

  "I'm going to take Troy in, process, and arraign him before putting him into lockup. If you get there before six with bail money, he won't have to spend the night in jail."

  "How much?" I asked.

  "I'm booking him for a first-degree misdemeanor assault. It's going to be about a thousand dollars."

  Troy leaned over and whispered something in Ryan’s ear. He hugged Troy and the officer walked him out. He didn't even look at me when he passed.

  I tried not to take it personally.

  I followed Ryan as he headed to his room.

  "Ry, what did he say?" Ryan turned to face me. "Before he left."

  "He told me not to let you come."

  I leaned against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut.

  "You slept with Scott?" My head snapped up.

  "No.” I pinched the skin on my wrist and turned away. “He molested me when I was a kid."

  "And Troy never knew?"

  I shook my head. "What happened, how did they start fighting?"

  "I don't know. I was in my room. I heard Troy yelling 'You sick bastard.' I ran out and Troy had the guy down and was wailing on his face."

  "Oh my God."

  "I saw the guys face. It was like ground meat. It took Todd and me both to pull Troy off. When he calmed down, I called the ambulance.” Ryan stepped towards me. “You should have told him."

  "I didn't know how to tell him."

  "You should have figured it out, before the two of you got so close." I heard what he said, but my mind interpreted it another way. Because of what Scott did to me, Troy and I shouldn't be together. The thought never crossed my mind.

  "You're right," I said.

  "You didn't think it would co
me out eventually?"

  "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" I buried my head in my hands. "Ry, you know him better then anyone, how bad is this?"

  "Oh, it's fucked."

  Yeah, I've heard that one before, too.

  I gave Ryan my debit card to help with Troy's bail; he and Todd left to go get him. I stayed at the house and cleaned up as much as I could. I approached the pool of blood and held my breath. I didn't want to clean up my vomit along with it.

  Around 8:00 p.m., I received a text from Ryan. He was taking Troy to the hospital to get his hand looked at. I said a little prayer. If this ruined his career, I would never forgive myself.

  They arrived back at the house around 10:00 p.m. Troy's black eye had developed into a bumpy dark bruise, and he wore a removable cast on his right hand. He went into the kitchen and grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer. I thought he would ask me to leave, but he didn't.

  "I'm gonna take a shower," Troy said as he headed toward his room.

  I turned to Ryan.

  "Is his hand okay?" I asked Ryan when Troy closed his door.

  "Small fracture right here." Ryan pointed to his middle finger. "Has to wear that thing for the next six weeks. He should be fine."

  "What about the bowl game?" I asked, knowing the answer. The game was four weeks away.

  I heard the shower stop, and I gave Troy a few more minutes before walking back to his door. I knocked.

  "Come in."

  Troy pulled a t-shirt over his head as I walked in. I caught a glimpse of his abs. I went from concern to lust in two seconds.

  What was wrong with me?

  Troy sat on his bed, his back against the headboard. I sat on my knees at the foot.

  "You okay?" He seemed confused by the question. "Your hand, I mean."

  "Yeah, small fracture. It'll heal in no time."

  "And your eye?"

  "I can still see your"—he cleared his throat—"I can still see."

  "I'm really sorry I didn't tell you," I said.

  "You really should have told me," he said.

  I didn’t think he meant for that to sound as harsh as it did. It hurt, but then he asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "Because I was scared you would look at me differently. I thought if you knew what he did to me, you would think I was disgusting and wouldn't want to be with me." Again, with the tears. "I didn't want to lose you over something that happened so long ago."