Page 65
Story: Guarded By the Goalie
“You’re a fucking pig,” I seethe. “I wasn’t a whore. I was a naive little kid that you took advantage of. You didn’t break me in–you fuckingrapedme.” Hot tears blur my vision. “Not just once, but every fucking time you lured me into your shitty, filthy, little bedroom, and in every fucking way you wanted.”
“Rape? Jesus Christ. You showed up to my house day after day with those little bikinis on, or one of those short little skirts, and you think that wasn’t an invitation?” He snorts. “You’re fucking crazy. No wonder you’re selling yourself online. What else are you worth?”
The slap shocks me as much as it does him. Almost as much as me saying the word rape after all this time.
“You fucking bitch!” He lunges for me, but I swim out of the way.
“What the hell is going on?” Jason is already halfway across the pool, Kendall behind him, her expression a mixture of fear and worry. “Did he touch you?”
“Nothing.” Will is already on his way out of the water, the skin on his face already turning red. “I thought maybe she wanted to hang out. Apparently not.”
Jason and Will start to argue, and I use the opportunity to get out of the water, leaving my phone and towel behind. Dripping water and leaving a trail of wet footprints, I enter the kitchen, stopping at the counter, when I break down.
“Hey.” Kendall follows me in, drapes a towel over my shoulders, and wraps her arms around my shivering body. “What the hell happened?”
“He…” I start, but that old fear forces me to swallow it back down.
“Whatever you say he did, I’ll believe you.” She pushes the wet bangs out of my eyes.
“You will?”
“Absolutely. And if you want to tell me about it, I’m here to listen.”
With the bandage finally ripped off this year’s old wound, I do what I should have a long time ago, let it all out.
Kendall stayed for hours,waiting while I showered and got my emotions under control. Once I was in my pajamas and under the covers, I told her what happened. Not just tonight, but all those years ago, that first time. It was scary as hell to admit it all, to brace myself for her judgment, but it also felt good. Like the heaviest weight, one built out of fear and shame, had finally been released.
“You know it’s not your fault,” she tells me, once it’s all out.
“My brain does, but my heart doesn’t,” I admit. “Taking that blame was the only way I could survive at the time. Pretending like it was a choice seemed easier.”
“That’s what fuckers like Will Holt do to the people they hurt. They commit the crime, and then put the blame on the victim.”
The story of my fucking life. Or it has been. I don’t want it to be any more.
There’s a tap on the door, then Jason’s voice, “Ken, Nad, you guys okay?”
Kendall looks at me and I nod.
“Yeah,” she says, rising to open the door. When he sees me, I see the line of concern across his forehead and a split in his lip.
“He hit you?” I ask, sitting up.
“Not as hard as I hit him.” He hands me my phone and I see his scuffed knuckles. “You left this downstairs.”
I take the phone from him and pull the blankets back up to my chest.
“Thank you, for the phone and having my back.” I look to Kendall. “Both of you.”
“Always, Nadia,” she says. “Don’t forget it.”
I’ve given her permission to tell my brother everything. I don’t mind him knowing, I’m just not sure I can face him. I did ask her not to tell my parents. Maybe one day, but not yet.
I exhale when they shut the door behind them. I turn off the light and reach for my phone. There’s a few messages, but one makes my heart skip a beat.
GoalieGod:Happy Thanksgiving, T. Hope you made it through the day fuck-up free. I know I barely did. My biggest fuck-up yet was leaving things the way I did the other day. I’m sorry. There’s no excuse. I only hope you’ll forgive me.
Nadia:Can we talk when we get back?
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