Classes start tomorrow. All around me, both inside and outside the building, there seems to be nonstop laughing and talking, music playing, and doors opening and closing. Life, in other words. Everybody is looking forward to starting the semester. I hear people talking about parties as they walk past my room, things they’re looking forward to.
While I hide out in here, wondering if I’ll ever be able to actually enjoy this.
I mean, I haven’t even slept a solid night since I got here. I can’t escape the nightmares. I keep expecting to open my eyes and find James standing over me, demanding I humiliate myself for him again.
I wish I knew what to do. This will always hang over my head unless I find a way to get closure. The problem is, I have no idea what that looks like. They can’t get away with this. I can’t let them get away with it. No punishment would be too severe after everything they’ve put me through.
What do I do, then? Go to the police? And who would believe me? Not even my own mother believed me. The one person who was supposed to protect me and love me. How could I possibly convince a stranger? Plus, I’m sure they’ve already thought about that. James probably has a plan for just such a situation.
Nobody would believe me. Not against somebody like James. Somebody with money, a career, and a reputation. And what would end up happening? Word would get out somehow because it always does.Has-been gymnast accuses powerful lawyer of sexual assault—like that’s not exactly the kind of story that makes headlines. Every aspect of my personal life would end up being torn to pieces. My only shot at living a somewhat normal life would be to change my name and move to the other side of the world.
I guess that’s out. I’m going to have to find a way to live with it. I’ll have to, or else I’ll have no hope of a future. Not if I stay stuck in what they did to me. I need to find a way to move on.
Obviously, that time is not now since the clicking of the lock on my dorm room door makes me jump a mile, heart in my throat, and ready to defend myself from an attack.
“Piper?” She’s the last person I would ever expect to see, even if it’s strangely fitting that she would show up. Yet another example of a disappointment in my life. This is becoming a greatest hits playlist of all the most fucked-up aspects of my existence.
She manages a shy little smile. “Yeah, hi.”
“What are you doing here?” Even the fact that she’s carrying a mesh bag full of clothes over one shoulder and wheeling a suitcase with the other hand doesn’t clue me in right away. I’m too busy being surprised by the sight of her.
“We are… roommates.” She drops her bag of clothes on the other unmade bed. “This is my room, too.”
I launch myself out of my chair so fast that she backs into the bed and ends up flopping down on it. “Did they put you up to this?” I demand, leaning down until I’m in her face. “Are you here to spy on me? Is that part of their plan? I knew it. I knew there was something more to all of this!”
She only stares at me with wide eyes, leaning back a little. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who do you mean? Why would anybody be planning against you?”
“Oh, give me a fucking break. Don’t act like you don’t know.”
“But I don’t, I swear. This is my room, room 312. It’s the room I was assigned, along with you. I don’t know what you mean by a plan.” She hesitates, biting her lip. “But if you want to talk about it, I don’t have any place else to be. What’s going on?”
I don’t know what to think about this. I back away, never taking my eyes off her. I don’t trust her, for one thing. And I don’t know if I can believe her.
“Leni, you can trust me. I know I made mistakes. And I know I’m probably the last person you think you can trust now. All I can say is I’m sorry, and I wish I had never done it. I really miss you, and I’m so sorry I hurt you. If you need a friend right now, I’m here. I want to listen if you want to talk.”
It just so happens that the one thing I need more than just about anything in the world is somebody to listen. Still… “I don’t know. You really hurt me. That’s not the kind of thing I can just forget.”
“I understand. And I’m so, so sorry. I hate myself for hurting you. And I know trust isn’t something you can just magically get back. I’ve done a lot of thinking about this, especially since those couple of days we were together at the gym. All I wanted was to be able to talk to you the way we used to. It’s like you were so close, but you may as well have been a million miles away. And that hurt so much. That, more than anything, reminded me of what I lost because I made the wrong choice. I will do anything I can to make it up to you. I just want us to start again. I’m willing to earn your trust back if that’s what it takes.”
She doesn’t know it, but she’s saying exactly the kind of thing I need to hear right now. All of a sudden, my legs are too weak to hold me up, so I plop down beside her on the bed. “I don’t know if I should tell you or not.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable talking about, but I’m here for you. So whenever you feel comfortable, just let me know. The least I can do is listen. And I’ll tell you something else,” she adds in a softer voice. “I noticed when we were at the gym together that you didn’t look very good. I’m not trying to insult you, I swear. You looked kind of pale and extra tired, run down. I was already worried about you, but I knew you wouldn’t want to hear me talk about it. Nobody wants to be told they’re not looking good, but especially not when it’s somebody who hurt them.”
“I have really missed having you to talk to,” I admit in a whisper. “I have really needed you the past few weeks.”
“Leni, please tell me. What’s happening?”
I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but I have to. I’ll die if I don’t get it out. It will eat a hole through me just like if I swallowed acid. This isn’t the kind of thing I can carry around for the rest of my life. “You have to promise this stays between us. At least until I figure out what I want to do about it. Swear it.”
“I swear. I won’t say a word to anybody.”
I’ll test her a little bit first. Just to see how she reacts. “You know, now that I think about it, you didn’t go back to the house after Mom’s wedding. It was just Deborah.”
“Yeah.” Her teeth sink into her lip. “They were being weird. They all had way too much to drink, and nobody wants to be the sober person around a bunch of drunks. But I don’t know, Deborah kept talking about you, too. And she kept saying things like how she was going to take both of them on that night. I didn’t want to be any part of it. Really, I haven’t talked to her since that night. I don’t know why I ever… forget it.” Her cheeks are red now, and her lips pursed tight.
I believe her because that’s exactly what Deborah would say—she probably did screw them both that night, come to think of it. “Did either of the guys ever tell you why they hate me like they do?”
“Honestly, they never really got into specifics. But they did say that you were kind of obsessed with them.”