Page 43 of Bend Him, Break Him

“Good,” Coach Wilson said. “Now, just keep to yourself until we can handle this properly. I don’t want you to say something that’ll breach your contract.”

“My contract?” Colton quivered. “I’m at risk of losing my scholarship, my place on the team because of what someone else did?” Colton stood, panting heavily and furiously. “That’s fucking bullshit!”

“No, you’re not,” Coach Wilson corrected. “Only if it turned out you were involved in it knowingly, intentionally—”

“I would never!”

Coach Wilson reassured Colton that the team had his back, but the longer Colton sat there listening to the strategy plan on how to handle this situation, the more he realized it didn’t involve him.

He recalled the laughter in the locker room as Leon taunted him.

The players who jumped in, not to stop the fight but to get a few hits in themselves.

Colton dwelled on everything he’d worked on his entire life as far back as he could remember.

Six years old and playing little league with a dream of going pro.

Now, it had crumbled away, and he didn’t believe there was a goddamn thing he could do to change it.

Unable to attend practice and uninterested in going home, Colton wandered campus, sticking mostly to back parking lots, empty trails, areas not filled with students.

He had too much pent-up frustration, confusion, fear, paranoia, hatred, anger, and a thousand other feelings that bombarded him with every step.

Soon, Colton was running, sprinting away his energy while hoping to escape these overwhelming feelings that haunted his every thought.

“Colton!” someone shouted.

He ignored it.

“Colton!” they called again.

He ran faster.

If someone tried to ask him questions or offer him comfort, he’d break. If someone tried to mock him, to joke about his pain, he’d break them. So, he did the only thing he could—he ran, ignoring the voice.

“Colton, wait!” they called again. This time, their voice was hoarse, familiar in its gruffness.

He turned to find a red-faced Isaac chasing him.

“What’re you doing?”

“Looking for you,” Isaac wheezed. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you since I…”

The pause indicated that he wasn’t sure how much Colton knew.

“I’ve seen the video.”

“What happened is awful—”

“I know, which is why I need space.”

“I have a meeting with the dean.”

“I might, too.” Colton shrugged. “Forgot my phone.”

Not that he wanted to look at it.

“How are you handling this?”

“I’m not.” Colton ground his teeth.

“I’m here for you.”

“I need space from you, too.”

“Are you blaming me?”

“No. But we weren’t exactly careful. Yes, this happened in my room, but let’s be honest, it could’ve been anywhere. It could’ve been because I’ll do anything anywhere for you.”

“And that’s on me?”

“No. Don’t twist this to make me feel like shit. I already feel like shit,” Colton snapped. “It’s hard enough not to think you had something to do with this.”

“What?”

“Logically, I know this is Leon. There’s no one else who would want to do this. He’s the only person who wants to ruin me. Who has wanted to ruin me since he got here. But then there’s this tiny little paranoid thought in the back of my head that just keeps screaming that’s not true.”

Isaac listened intently, giving Colton his undivided attention, which made the words difficult for Colton to form, but he had to. There was so much pain eating away at him, so much fear and paranoia and doubt. Speaking it helped purge some of the poison seeped in his soul.

“You would want this.”

The look of hurt on Isaac’s face made Colton’s stomach twist in knots.

“I would never.”

“And I believe that. Mostly.” Colton sighed. “But I can’t stop my brain. Leon had motive but no way into my room.”

“He picked the lock.”

“At a party with close to thirty people? Leon just randomly learned to pick locks?”

“He could already know.”

“Because that’s totally a skill people just have on hand,” Colton spoke with venomous sarcasm.

“How he found a way into my room is a mystery. What, he hid a camera in there and then found his way back outside? Plus, he locked the door again so no one would notice. That’s a lot of steps, and he’s evil enough for it.

But then I think about how you had access to my room. Alone.”

Colton recalled the few minutes he’d left to take a piss, to freshen up, to breathe and reel back his overzealous excitement about the blowjob.

“I didn’t do this.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe you think I would!”

“I don’t believe you did it,” Colton snapped. “It’s just a weird, paranoid thought bouncing in my head with, like, a million other thoughts. And honestly, it’s not that outlandish. This all started because you hated me.”

“This all started because you hurt me.” Isaac jabbed an accusatory finger in the air.

“See, it’s that right there. The anger and the hurt and resentment you still have for me.

” Colton gestured between them. “You wanted to expel me. You wanted to hurt me. To use me. To break me. Don’t tell me I’m crazy for thinking maybe you were playing some long con to fuck me quite literally for the world to see.

My entire fucking life is falling apart.

Tens of thousands of people have watched me get fucked in the ass, either jerking off to it or having a good laugh at my expense.

I don’t have time to tiptoe around your feelings when mine are fucking exploding! ”

“I…” Isaac dropped his head.

“I just need space to think, to process, to breathe.” Colton fumed, hurt and frustrated and confused beyond measure.

“Take whatever time you need.” Isaac abandoned Colton, who wandered campus until he couldn’t take the looks anymore and went to his apartment.

Colton got back to his room to find his phone buzzing.

His mother was calling. He ignored it. Ignored the dozens of missed calls.

Ignored hundreds of notifications. Colton couldn’t speak; he couldn’t breathe.

He stared at his desk, the trophies, the framed photos, the medals hanging on the wall.

That little space in his room was where the camera had been hidden.

A spot meant to showcase his success, and it’d been used to record his most private moment.

All so it could be posted online and fuel Colton’s downfall.

His coaches said they had his back, but he didn’t believe it.

This was the first day of the fallout, and they’d benched him.

What would happen when pressure rose? When fans protested?

When anonymous fucks called in or sent hateful emails?

Colton understood how scandals in sports worked.

He was fucked in every sense of the word.

Colton’s phone vibrated in his hand.

“Aaaaahhhhh!” Colton screamed, hurling his phone into his trophies.

Watching one tip over soothed the rage and shame eating away at him, so he barreled forward and slammed into his treasure trove of successes.

Everything faded beneath the waves of fury as Colton ripped apart his bedroom, unleashing as much as he could.

It wasn’t enough. His anguish hit like a tidal wave.

His shame sent him spiraling to the undercurrents of his thoughts, his fears, his insecurities and doubts.

Colton was broken and alone and afraid.