The Queen B* and the Homecoming King (21 page)

“But last week when I saw him all beat up, I actually felt sorry for him. And I was so angry at you because I thought you’d tried to make a move on him, and I ended up agreeing to help him move his stuff out of his frat house since they’d
kicked him out and he claimed he had those broken ribs and…”

She froze, her breath shaking as much as her hands. She bit her bottom lip. “I wasn’t trying to get back with him. I was just trying to be nice, to make up for the shitty stuff I thought you’d done. I helped him carry some boxes to his new apartment and tried to leave afterward, but he told me to stay. I told him I was done helping
him, and then he—” Her breath caught again, and the shame and misery that washed over her face made me pull her into another hug.

Morgan pushed me back. “No, Alexis, I need to say this. I need to get it off my chest. I need to tell someone what happened so it won’t keep eating me up inside like this.”

She cleared her throat, straightened her spine, and continued in a calm, matter-of-fact manner.
“He grabbed me, wrestled me to the bed until I was bent over the edge of the mattress with my face smashed against the sheets and one arm pinned behind my back. And then he fucked me.”

Her tears started flowing again, and I handed her new wads of tissue, unsure what I else I could do. Nothing I could say would take away the pain of that night for her. I’d been lucky because I’d had someone who’d
come to my rescue that night. Morgan hadn’t been that lucky.

She continued to blot her eyes. “I wish I could say it was just boring, but it was the most horrible thing I’d ever encountered. He didn’t ask. He just took, called me names like
slut
and
whore
the entire time. I’d never been more scared or humiliated. And when he finished, he threw my clothes at me and said I’d gotten what I wanted,
what I deserved.”

The ache around my heart gave way to the fury that ignited in my chest. “Why didn’t you report him to the campus police?”

“Because they wouldn’t believe me. After all, I’d willingly come over to his place and even slept with him a few weeks ago. They’d just say that because I’d done it with him before, that meant I wanted it, and since I turned eighteen last month, I was old
enough to consent.”

“But you didn’t want it that time, and you didn’t ask for it. You didn’t give him permission.” I pressed my finger under her chin and tilted her face up until our gazes met. “What he did was rape.”

“Damn it!” She swatted my hand away and jumped to her feet, her rigid posture reminding me of a hissing cat. “You think I don’t know that? But I also know that he wouldn’t be the
only one who’d call me a slut and a whore if I mentioned it to anyone else.”

“I didn’t.” I said the two words quietly, but forcefully, letting her know I’d never judge her that way.

The anger melted from her face, leaving behind an emotion I couldn’t identify. Guilt? Gratitude? Shock? She eased back on the opposite end of the couch, out of reach, and starting to shred the tear-soaked tissues
in her hands. “I’m so sorry, Alexis.”

“There’s nothing to apologize—”

“No, let me finish. I’m so messed up from everything I’m trying to figure out where to start. I mean, when I ran into him at the Purple Dog and saw him all battered and bruised from Brett, I felt sorry for him. But then he spun his own tale about how you’d been coming on to him and how you’d tried to sleep with him until Brett
came and beat the crap out of him…”

She stopped and curled her lips into her mouth, pressing them together in a thin line. “I guess I should’ve known better. I mean, you’re so proud of your V-card, I should’ve known you wouldn’t try to seduce him. But I was still so angry that you’d even made a move on him, I didn’t know what to think.”

“Again, I’m sorry,” I started, but she cut me off with
a shake of her head.

“No, let me finish. After he did what he did, I was even angrier at you because I felt like everything was your fault. And I held on to that because it was easier to blame you than to come to terms that I’d been raped. And once Richard finally told me what had happened to you, I was angry at myself. You see, if I’d just listened to your side of the story when I called you
that day, then I would’ve told him to fuck off instead of feeling sorry for him. If I’d known what he tried to do to you, I would’ve never gone to his place.”

She lifted her chin. “So, what I’m asking is, do you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Morgan. If anyone should be asking for forgiveness, it’s me.”

“Aren’t we a messed-up pair?” She nodded, shaking free a few more rogue tears.
“So can we go back to being best friends now?”

I held out my arms, uncertain exactly when my own tears had broken free during this conversation. “Absolutely.”

She flung her arms around me, and we hugged and cried for another few minutes until half a box’s worth of tissues littered the floor on my mom’s otherwise pristine home. When Morgan finally pulled away, she was still sniffing and blotting
the corners of her eyes, but the bright smile on her lips outshone everything else.

“We have so much catching up to do,” she said with a laugh.

“Let’s start with the new look.” I gestured to her hair and dress, hoping it would distract her from the gut-wrenching confession she’d just made to me. Now wasn’t the time to urge her to seek help and report Gavin. But I wasn’t about to let the subject
drop, either. I’d just wait until she was better prepared to handle the next step.

“You know me—always trying to reinvent myself. And after the whole thing with Gavin, I decided I needed to make some major changes in my life. The retro look is just the outside. Inside, I’ve decided to be a little more choosy about the next guy I sleep with. You know, maybe do it with emotion involved instead
of just the whole physical attraction thing.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a novel idea.”

“And speaking of emotion, what is going on with you and Brett?”

I filled her in on everything that had happened, from how Summer had set him up to how the truth had come out to our first official date. But as I got to the end of last week, I found myself mumbling about his injury.

“How’s he doing?” she asked
with genuine concern.

“Fine, I guess.” I shrugged. “I mean, he says he’s fine, but I know he isn’t, and I’m trying my best to get him out of his funk and open up to me, but…”

“Maybe he needs a little tough love from the Queen B*.” Morgan gave me a playful punch in the arm, but her comment landed on me like a grand piano in those old cartoons.

Brett needed some tough love. But if I gave it to
him, would he tell me to piss off? Would he break up with me? Even though I’d fought this whole dating thing in the beginning, I did care about him. A lot, actually. And I liked being his girlfriend. Would I be able to risk sacrificing our relationship to tell him what I thought he might need to hear?

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out, half hoping it was a message from Brett. Instead, I saw
Richard’s name on the screen.

Girlfriend, you just opened up a whole can of crazy into my life. Fro-yo at 5 p.m. No excuses
.

I showed his message to Morgan, who laughed. “Mind if I tag along?”

“Not at all.” I told her about the whole Kelsey thing, and by the end, she looked ready to engage in a cage match with the debate team captain.

“That fucking bitch! Oh, I hope her ass goes to jail, and
I’m not talking juvie, either.”

“She made her choices.” And all it would take was a few clicks of my mouse to expose them to the world.

“And that is why I love you, Alexis. You’re not afraid to call people out for being complete shits.”

But could I do it to my boyfriend?

Morgan picked up a magazine and thumbed through it. “What’s with all the wedding stuff?”

I squirmed in my seat. I hadn’t
told anyone about Mom and Pete, but I suppose I needed to start somewhere, especially since Mom’s issue of
Modern Bride
gave it away. “You got me. I’m already planning my wedding to Brett.”

Morgan knew my sarcasm too well, and she smacked me with the rolled-up magazine. “Seriously.”

“Okay, seriously, my mom’s getting married.”

“When?” Her eyes brightened in curiosity, which only doubled the
queasiness in my gut.

I must’ve been suffering sympathy morning sickness.

“December.”

“That’s awfully quick.” She opened up the magazine again and flipped a few more pages. “If I didn’t know your mom better, I’d say she was rushing to the altar before she started showing.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t trust myself to come up with a lie Morgan would swallow, and I didn’t want to ruin our freshly
healed friendship when the truth came out. At the same time, I was still having trouble accepting my mom was pregnant.

Morgan looked up from the magazine and studied me for a second before her jaw dropped. “You’re shittin’ me.”

I shook my head.

“Oh my God! Your mom is pregnant? Like, for real?”

I nodded.

“No way!” Morgan was taking the news about how I’d expected—shock, disbelief. And she
was my best friend. “Have you met the guy?”

“Yeah. He seems decent enough, but he lives in Kirkland. I’m just praying the kid doesn’t arrive until after graduation. I refuse to move.”

She folded her hands over her stomach. “I couldn’t imagine if my mom told me she was pregnant now. Not that she would ever go there. She had a combo tummy tuck and boob lift a few years ago, so I know there’s
no chance of her ruining her plastic surgeon’s artwork for another kid.”

“Pete’s a plastic surgeon.”

Her mouth fell open again. “Pete? And he lives in Kirkland? As in Dr. Peter Galetti?”

“I don’t know his last name.” That sounded wonderful.
Yeah, my mom’s knocked up and about to marry this guy, but I don’t even know his full name
.

“If he is who I think he is, he did my dad’s face-lift.”

“Which I still can’t believe he did.” Morgan’s parents both chased after the fountain of youth as though it would help them land bigger clients.

“If your mom invites my parents to the wedding, talk about awkward…”

One more reason to dread this wedding.

“Please, let’s talk about something else or get started on our homework or…”

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan. It will help kill the time until
we can get Richard’s juicy gossip.”

She ran out to her car to get her books while I pulled out my laptop and wondered if my life would ever get back to being normal again.

Chapter Eighteen

Richard ran into the frozen yogurt shop a few minutes after five with two bright spots of color in his cheeks. “Seriously, this has been the craziest day ever. I need two bowls of fro-yo to deal with it.”

He spent the next three minutes swirling a mound of mango yogurt in one bowl, chocolate truffle in the other, and topping each one with so much stuff I wondered if he’d
be able to fit into his outfit for the Homecoming dance.

When he brought them to the table, Morgan raised a brow. “Keep eating like that, and you’re going to be the size of Fata Tauaalo.”

“Size is what makes Fata such a great team center. Three hundred pounds of him between our quarterback and the other team’s defense. Anyway, I’m stress eating for all of us,” he replied with a mouthful of
mango yogurt. “Glad to see you two decided to kiss and make up.”

A teenage guy at a nearby table leaned in our direction with a lewd expression on his face.

I nudged Morgan and nodded toward him.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Sorry, there was no girl-on-girl action, sleaze ball.”

The guy’s face reddened, and he dumped what was left of his yogurt in the trash as he hustled out of the place.

Morgan laughed and banged her hand on the table. “Classic.”

“What happened?” I asked in an effort to turn the conversation back to the friend who needed to vent.

“What
didn’t
happen?” He shoveled a few more spoonfuls in before continuing. “First off, I get yanked out of first period by a police officer who wanted a deposition.”

“You know, you have the right to an attorney for those things,”
Morgan said.

“Like I had time to hire one. It was bad enough having to have my grandmother present since my parents were already at work in Seattle, and she was the closest thing to a guardian they could reach. Of course, she didn’t understand why I’d been targeted since she doesn’t know I’m gay. The officer wanted to know about my locker and the notes I’d received earlier. And then he asked
me if I wanted to press charges.” He finished the first bowl and stabbed his spoon into the second. “I didn’t know what to do. I mean, I wasn’t surprised it was Kelsey. I knew she had it out for me, especially after I made the team, but geez. If I pressed charges, it would be an open-and-shut case, and she’d be a convicted felon for the rest of her life.”

Which meant no Ivy League school for
her. No good job. Hell, she couldn’t even vote if she had a felony on her record. I could understand the weight behind his decision and why it would stress him out. It was one of the reasons why I’d made my incriminating post password protected. “So what did you do?”