Page 92 of From the Wreckage

Brielle

The campus feels different. Smaller. Meaner. Like the walls themselves know what happened here and whisper about it when I pass.

Everett’s hand squeezes mine as we walk across the quad toward the administration building so I can take a leave of absence. His presence is steady, grounding, but my pulse still stutters like it’s trying to escape my body. I keep my head down, praying to avoid anyone I know.

No such luck.

“Brielle!” The sharp, syrupy voice makes me freeze. Shit. It’s Meghan.

I turn, bracing myself. She’s leaning against a bench like she’s been waiting, phone in hand, lip gloss shining in the sun. And she’s not alone.

Joey stands next to her.

My stomach drops, bile burning my throat.

Meghan smirks, eyes flicking to Everett and back to me. “Well, well, well. Guess the rumors are true. Back with the old man, huh?”

I stiffen, shame flooding me. Until Everett growls low in his chest, stepping closer. His jaw flexes, his entire body radiating danger. Meghan falters but covers it with a laugh.

Joey doesn’t flinch. He smirks, too. “What, Bri? Too good to talk to your friends now?”

Friends. The word makes my skin crawl.

I lift my chin, my voice trembling but louder than I thought possible. “You’re not my friends. You never were.”

Meghan tilts her head, faux sympathy dripping from her words. “Oh, come on. Don’t be so dramatic. You went to the party willingly.”

Everett surges forward, but I grab his arm, my nails digging into his skin. His whole body vibrates with restrained fury.

My chest heaves. I can feel everyone around us watching. Listening. “I went to a party. I took a drink. That doesn’t mean I asked to be drugged. Or…” My voice falters, but I force it out. “Or raped.”

The smirk slides off Joey’s face. A ripple moves through the small crowd gathering around us, whispers rising like a tide.

“She said raped.”

“Did you hear that?”

“Is she talking about Joey?”

Phones lift, cameras pointed our way. A couple of students back away from Joey like he’s contagious. Meghan stiffens, her eyes darting everywhere but to mine.

I don’t look away. Not from her. Not from him.

Everett’s voice is lethal when he speaks, low and sharp. “You better walk away right now before I forget Bri asked me not to kill you.”

Joey sneers but steps back, muttering under his breath. Meghan tries to follow, but my voice stops her.

“You betrayed me,” I whisper, my throat raw. “You were never my friend.” My hand clenches at my side. “And I’ll never forgive you.”

She flinches like I slapped her, then spins on her heel.

Everett tucks me into his side, his arm iron around me. He murmurs against my temple, “I’m proud of you, angel. You made them hear the truth.”

My knees shake, but for the first time since that night, I don’t feel powerless.

And that feels a little like healing.