Almost (42 page)

I pace into the front door alcove and look out at our lawn.

“Fine. I've been lying to you all summer,” I say.

“I knew it,” says Mom.

I turn. They're all waiting, arms crossed like a jury that's already found me guilty.

Well—I'm about to flip it. This is my trial, not theirs.

A whisper is all I can muster for my first accusation, “You've been lying to me too.”

Coach Williams shifts his feet. My dad looks away. Mom's blinking really fast.

I move closer and muster more courage, more decibels for my voice. “Dad…what have you assumed would be the
worst
? Between me an my boyfriend—what's the absolute
worst
that I could do?”

I can tell Dad's pissed but trying to keep it together. He humors me with an answer. “My worst, Jess, would be that your Corey is some sort of player who's taken advantage of you. I read the guy's over-the-top declarations of
texted-love
. And, frankly, I'm suspicious as hell. You say you've broken up with him; but his last two messages were sent less than an hour ago. And he's been apologizing for how much he hurt you since last night? Did that kid hurt you?”

My heart twists. And I can't speak. Think. Breathe.

Did Gray hurt me?
Did he ever really hurt me? Never. Not once. I think it's been the opposite.

I imagine Gray's gentle smile. The endless concern for me in his eyes. Even before I'd proposed the stupid contract. How he'd thought he was waking me up so I wouldn't miss the interview—even though he knew exactly who I was.

And yesterday, his hands were so gentle. And his lips. Soft and urgent, but so careful against mine in the Fairy Grotto. Then the pain in his eyes as I screamed in his face. Told him I hated him.

I hurt him. Not the other way around.

It's all I can do not to cry.

I solidify my expression into my default
bored
look and concentrate on breathing.

Dad shakes his head at me. He's annoyed because he thinks I'm not responding to him on purpose. And as usual. I want to tell him it's not that, I simply can't open my mouth right now or air will hit the back of my throat…and then we'll never get to finish this conversation.

Dad tosses a glance at Coach Williams. “Coach will confer that high school guys are scammers. You know what I mean. My worst,
Jess
, is that you've fallen for this silver-tongued devil. And you don't want us to know how far things have gone. If he hurt you then I'll—”

“Stop.
Dad.
I'm a senior. Not a middle-school kid.” I've got control of my tears now, and I realize I'm blushing. “This type of
parent-speech
is way too late for,” I pause and nail Dad with my best glare, “—
someone totally messed up like me.”

“Jess, don't you speak to your father like that. Answer our questions,” Mom yells.

I shake my head. “What's the question? Holy! Are you and Dad actually asking me if I've
slept
with this guy? We're going to talk about how many bases I've been to, in front of Kika and Coach Williams?” I bark out a laugh. “I suppose it's fitting that Coach knows the details of my summer make-out session. Because he knows all my other exploits, don't you Coach? Why not the new ones?”

“
Jessica
. You are out of line,” Dad says.

“Am I?” I turn to Mom whose face has opened up in shock, like she's registering what I've just said. I press on. “Let's just get one thing straight before we continue.
My boyfriend
treating me badly, or pressuring me, is the least of your worries.”

I hold Coach's gaze next. “
My boyfriend
never even tried to kiss me until last night. And I had to make the first move to get him to do it. Which didn't go so very well because all he wanted to do was
talk! Talk, talk, talk
!” I fling my arms up in the air. “The
talking
part, not the
kissing
part, is why he's now my ex-boyfriend.”

“What?” Dad's sputtering so badly now, I almost feel sorry for the guy.

I continue. “I fell asleep in the car on the way home; and I had my nightmare. But this time—it was not a foggy dream. It was minute by minute. I remember everything. Like it happened yesterday.” I cross my arms and look around the room. “And I know that you lied to me. All of you!”

“Oh, Jess. We didn't lie!” Mom gasps.

I have to work to keep my face straight because I want to crumble. Have the world's biggest tantrum and hate them all. But I don't do any of that.

I'm trying to fill up my emptiness with something—with
someone
new.

I want to be the girl who's done hiding her feelings and lying and being lied to.

When I speak again, my voice is calm and resigned. “I'm kind of hungry, but before we eat, let's all just take a moment to fill each other in on the truth for once, shall we? Who wants to start? Mom? Dad?”

Neither parent seems to be able to meet my gaze. “Coach? Kika? Or should I carry on?”

“I'll start.” Kika sniffles. “Jess isn't dating Corey Nash. She's dating a black haired, green eyed, tall guy. A guy named Gray Porter. Corey Nash is Gray's best friend and he's dating a girl called Michelle,” Kika chokes out.

Mom's put her hand on her heart and her eyes have gone wild with worry and disbelief. “Gray Porter? Gray Porter!!
That's
the guy on the text messages? Impossible. Tell me it's impossible.” She paces across the entryway toward me. I avoid her and her probing gaze by crossing to the opposite side.

“It's no wonder you've had such a huge relapse,” Dad adds.

“You knew my nightmares had returned?” I ask, incredulous.

Dad nods. “You'd said you wanted us to back off. We were trying to respect your privacy. Waiting until you came to us. A mistake, obviously.”

“You seemed so happy in all other aspects of the summer. We thought you were learning how to work through things on your own—” Mom starts.

Kika starts crying. “I thought I was the only one who knew. Why didn't you guys tell me you knew? I was so worried about Jess.”

“You kissed
Gray Porter
, yesterday?” Dad's ramping up again, his arms are flinging around like he's some sort of octopus. “That little punk! Gray Porter? Holy shit.” His eyes go wild and he looks at Coach. “I'll murder him.”

“I won't let you,” Coach shouts. “Gray had Jess's best interests at heart. And he does love her. I believe him.”

“He's seventeen. What does that kid know about love? Jess is not allowed to be in love with that kid. And you—YOU KNEW!” Dad moves before anyone understands what he's doing.

He shoves Coach Williams by the neck until he's pressed up against the wall. One of our family photos tips to the side and then slides down with a crash. “You knew who Jess was dating when I called you the other day? I'll murder that kid, but first I'll kill you right here!”

Dad slams Coach into the wall again, and Coach Williams pushes back. Hard.

Dad goes flying clear across the entryway, but starts back toward Coach like he really does mean to kill him!

“Daddy!” Kika screams, hysterical now.

“Stop. Stop. Stop!” I shout. “You're all acting crazy.”

Dad trips and falls with a thump at the foot of the staircase. He makes no move to get up just shakes his head and stares at me. “What the hell? Jess—did you really date Gray Porter all summer?”

“Dad. It's not what you think. I
paid
him to date me. I didn't know who he was on that level. He never told me. I met him at the interview. I offered to help him get the paid internship if he agreed to be my summer boyfriend. You and Mom wanted me to prove I was ‘better’ only I wasn't better at all. Gray needed the money. He didn't hurt me. He didn't hurt me once.”

My heart hurts as I walk to sit next to my dad. “He tried to be my friend. He even tried to give me back my money, long before he ever tried to kiss me. He's good. He's honorable. I'm the one who sucks. He tried to tell me everything. I wouldn't listen.”

“That kid promised to never approach you or speak to you again! What in the hell was he doing trying to tell you anything?” Dad's eyes are filling with tears. If he cries in front of me I'm going to lose it.

“Why would you make such an agreement with anyone?” Mom interjects, voice shaking.

I glance at her. “Why would you make Gray Porter promise not to speak to me? Why would you and Dad
hide
the details of what happened to me three years ago? You gave me no names. Why did you and Dad not let me be tested for drugs in my system? That guy put something in my drink and you knew it.”

“Jess…it was a complicated decision. We had so many reasons not to pursue prosecution. We wanted to protect you,” Mom says.

“Well I had reasons for what I did too. I want to go college. I thought if I could pull off what appeared to be a ‘normal summer’ including a boyfriend, then you guys would back off, stop the helicopter parenting, and let me go. I want some sort of life, messed up or not, I want to move
on
.”

Mom takes the now sobbing Kika into her arms on the staircase, while Dad struggles to his feet and helps me up. He shoots a pointed glare at Coach Williams.

Coach Williams glares back.

“It's my fault. This was all my idea,” Kika pipes in. “I made Jess a ‘how to be normal’ checklist before the interview. It was a joke. One of my suggestions was that she land a boyfriend. I never knew she'd use it. This is my fault. Don't you see?”

My heart clenches. “This is nobody's fault,” I say. “Isn't that what you all have been hammering into me for three years? This is nobody's fault. It's pretty clear we all did some stupid stuff, and we all lied. Or didn't tell—or whatever. But it's all about what happened three years ago and…I finally believe this is nobody's fault. Not even mine. I could blame you, Mom and Dad, and you too, Coach, for the whole summer. Three years ago, you should have told me everything. If you had, I'm certain I would never have asked Gray Porter to sign onto my scheme during that interview, that's for damn sure.”

Mom starts sobbing harder than Kika.

“We couldn't tell you. It was too terrible. And since you didn't remember anyway, we thought we were helping,” Dad says.

“I know, Dad. But if any of you are holding back other secrets about Gray, or that night, then I want to know. I deserve to know,” I insist. “It's important. Please.”

Mom pulls herself together. “Gray Porter offered himself as a witness to your attempted rape. He even confirmed you'd been drugged because the other kid told him. But your therapist and the police advised us not to prosecute.”

“Why?” My heart sinks and I'm flooded with a new wave of anger.

“Gray's offer made legal action possible, but you were so depressed. Our attorney said you wouldn't be a credible witness. You had no concrete memories of the event, and because you'd been drinking, we were told the other attorney would tear apart your reputation.”

Mom chokes up so badly she can't say more. Dad continues, “We didn't want to drag you through the courts —we didn't want you to have to face kids talking about it at school when you didn't remember the events yourself. We thought it best to leave it all alone. No one knew what you'd been through besides all of us, the bastard who started it all—and Gray. But he promised to keep your secret,” Dad says.

“And the guy who did it? He—never even got in trouble? How did you shut him up?” I ask Dad.

“Our attorneys worked it out. If he'd ever approached or spoken to you we were on standby to prosecute. After the team won state and the kid signed to a university, they moved out of state. No way was anyone in that family going to talk. Not with the kid's college hockey on the line.”

“I couldn't kick him off the team, but you can bet I tried,” Coach adds. “Your family would've had to fill out a school district
incident report
. A report that would have exposed the details of that night; but again, even the report might not have held any weight. It all happened
off
school property, and you didn't remember.” Coach sighs. “The kid denied everything, of course. His parents hired one of the best attorneys in Denver. The school superintendent told the principal that if I continued to make noise, I'd lose my job. I had my family to consider,” Coach mutters. “And Gray, well he—he went through a lot after that. He hated me after the file was closed. Hated everyone. Hated hockey.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” I imagine the puny version of Gray Porter in the oversized hockey gear confronting my parents and Coach because of me and that night.

I meet my sister's gaze and whisper, “You were so right the other day, Kika. I suck. I completely suck,” which only makes her start crying all over again.

“Gray—he got beat up—because of me?”

Coach nods.