Page 39 of The Striker
“He let me go. Warned me to keep my mouth shut and then sent me on my way.” I grimace. “Not that I listened. As soon as I got back to my dorm, I told one of my friends. She convinced me to go to my campus administration. It happened on campusgrounds and we’re both students at PacNorth University. I didn’t want them to get away with it, but I also didn’t want to draw a bunch of unwanted attention.”
“Your father’s election?” she pries.
A single tear slips past my defenses, and I hastily swipe it away. “Yeah. I’m sure you can imagine what the media is like when they get wind of something like that during an election year. It’s never pretty.” Not for people like me. “Going to admin, it wasn’t ideal. I wanted them to get arrested. To go to jail. But I’m not stupid. I know the chances of that, so I figured, if they were kicked out of school, if they lost their positions on the soccer team, it’d be something.” At the time, I convinced myself it would be enough.
“And what came of it?”
With my eyes closed, I whisper a single word. “Nothing.”
She’s quiet until I open my eyes. “There was no punishment for any of the boys?”
Baring my teeth in a grimace, I shake my head. “Not even a slap on the wrist.”
She nods, scribbling something down on her notepad. “Have you told your parents?”
I shake my head. “No. Why would I? No one believed me,” I tell her. “When the guys were brought in, they said I made it up. They said I was drunk. That I threw myself at them. Not once did any of them deny what they did to me. But they made it sound like I wanted it. Like I was only mad after the fact because I regretted my own decision.”
I sniff. “Even my own friends turned their backs on me after that. So no, I never told my parents. I can’t take the idea of them finding out and not believing me, too.”
Dr. Walker jots something else down on her notepad before setting it aside.
“Was the assault your reason for attempting to take your own life?”
It’s not that easy to explain. The rape was bad. What Austin, Parker, and Gregory did to me, it seriously fucked me up. But everything afterward—realizing no one believed me. That nobody cared—it made everything so much worse.
There was no justice. No closure. My entire life was shoved over on its axis and theirs didn’t have so much as a bump in the road.
“That, plus everything that’s happened since.” It doesn’t help that I still go to school with those guys. That I have to see one or more of them almost every day.
“I imagine things began to feel hopeless at the time.”
Wiping my face, I nod. “Yeah. I guess so.”
“Do you still feel the same sense of hopelessness now?”
“I—” I cut myself off and consider her question. Life isn’t easy. It’s really fucking hard. I’m still dealing with the nightmares, the panic attacks, and what is probably a case of PTSD, but … I think about Gabriel. About joining the swim team. I think about the study session with Gabe’s roommates and about making a new friend. “No,” I tell her. “I don't feel hopeless like that.” Not anymore.
Our time ends shortly after that. She offers to extend the hour, but I’ve had enough for one day. She schedules my next appointment for a week from today ,and I leave her office, not feeling any better than when I first stepped inside.
When I walk to my car, I’m greeted by an unexpected surprise, though not an unwelcome one.
“What are you doing here?” Adriana stands beside my Jeep, a disposable coffee cup in each of her hands.
“Providing moral support in the form of caffeine.” She hands me one of the cups, and I bring it close to my chest. “It’s a hazelnut latte,” she tells me. “I don’t know what your regular order is.”
“This is perfect,” I tell her, taking a sip. Warmth seeps into me and I close my eyes, relishing the feeling as I exhale a deep breath.
I stopped by the restroom on my way out and splashed some water on my face, but I’m sure Adriana can tell I’ve been crying. Thankfully though, she doesn’t comment on it.
“We should do something fun this afternoon.” She climbs into the passenger seat of my SUV when I unlock it. Walking around, I settle myself inside and take another drink of my latte.
“Where’s your car?” I ask her.
“At home,” she says. “I took a rideshare, so we didn’t need to drive separately.”
Makes sense. We talked earlier about hanging out sometime today. Not that I expected her to show up outside of my appointment. But I’m not complaining. Already some of the ache in my chest is subsiding. Looks like Adriana is just what the doctor ordered today.
“Anything in particular you want to do today?” she asks as we make our way out onto the main road.
