Nets and Lies

by Katie Ashley

  “It’s going to be all right, Melanie. You are going to be all right. A doctor examined you—”

  My gasp interrupted her. Thank God I had been unconscious when they did it. I couldn’t imagine having to endure the exam.

  Mom chewed her lip. “In time,” she paused, “you’ll be as good as new.”

  I stared at her in disbelief. How could she possibly sit there and say that? The coach who had pushed me to excel on the court, the man I had spent endless hours with in a place where I was always loved, had taken my innocence—in every sense, both literally and figuratively.

  Without a word to Mom, I pressed the nurse’s button. “Yes?” a voice questioned.

  “I’m in pain,” I croaked.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  I could feel Mom’s concern bearing down on me. So I turned away from her.

  “Melanie…”

  “I don’t want to talk anymore. I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”

  Before Mom could argue any further, the nurse came through the door. A part of me clapped gleefully as she inserted the needle into my IV. Within seconds, I was floating away. From the room, all my problems, from Will, and from the nightmare that had become my life.

  ***

  When I woke again, it was dark. Dad sat beside my bed reading the newspaper. “Hey sleepy, you ready for some dinner?” he asked. He lifted the lid of the culinary delight provided by the hospital. I gagged as the smell hit my nose.

  “I’m not hungry,” I murmured.

  “Want me to go get you a hamburger or some chicken tenders?”

  I knew I didn’t want any of it, but I also knew if I sent him on a mission, it meant I could get another shot while he was gone. I’d be out of it by the time he returned. So I nodded. “Yeah, chicken tenders sound good.”

  He bent over and kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  I nodded. As soon as I heard the door click behind him, I pushed the button, summoning the liquid miracle for my problems.

  I woke up in a drug induced daze. I blinked several times, trying to clear my clouded eyes. I peered around the room, searching for my parents. Instead, a doctor I’d never seen before sat in the chair beside my bed. She smiled at me. “Good morning, Melanie.”

  I pulled myself into a sitting position and smoothed down my wild hair. “Morning.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Leighton,” she said, offering her hand.

  I warily eyed it. The Old Melanie screamed to be polite and shake it, but the New Melanie just wasn’t in the mood. “Hi,” I mumbled.

  Dr. Leighton took her hand back and sat down in the chair beside the bed. “Melanie, I’m a therapist, and I’m here to talk to you about why you were hospitalized.”

  “Do you honestly think I need you to talk to me about why I was hospitalized? I’m fully aware of what happened and how my life is over. But I remained silent. Dr. Leighton continued on, “I understand that something truly horrific has happened to you. I want you know you shouldn’t feel threatened or embarrassed to open up to me. I’m only here to help you.”

  I still refused to look at her. Instead, I stared down at the hospital bracelet circling my wrist. The last thing on earth I wanted to do was talk to a therapist. Acknowledging what had happened to me was bad enough, but the thoughts of spilling my guts of every sordid detail made my skin crawl.

  Dr. Leighton cleared her throat. “I know that right now, it seems too hard to talk about. But in time, you’ll see that bottling it inside isn’t going to help you.”

  Ugh, I just wanted her to leave me alone. So I jerked my head up and glared at her. “So you want to help me, huh? You understand what happened to me?” I shook my head. “You don’t know anything about what happened to me, and you certainly don’t understand!”

  Tears welled in my eyes, and I bit my lip to keep them inside. I refused to let her have my tears.

  Dr. Leighton leaned forward. “Melanie, I do understand what you’re feeling. When I was twelve years old, my step-father raped me. I loved him, and I trusted him. But he shattered all of that one day when I was home sick from school. I didn’t tell anyone. For years, I allowed it to eat away at me, until he tried to rape my little sister. That’s when I told everyone what happened. My stepfather is the reason I became a therapist, and he’s the reason I understand how you feel.”

  Her story, coupled with the sincerity in her eyes, was too much. Sobs overtook me. I cried and screamed and thrashed in the bed. All the things I wanted to do that night when Coach T was raping me, but I didn’t. All the things I’d done that night on my bathroom floor—the night of my breakdown.

  I don’t know how long it lasted. I came back to myself in Dr. Leighton’s arms. She was tenderly stroking my hair just like my mother did. “That’s good, Melanie. That’s a good start,” she whispered into my ear.

  Pulling away, I wiped my nose on the back of my hand. “You mean spazzing like that is actually good?”

  She laughed. “You weren’t spazzing. You were dealing with your emotions, and that is healthy. You’re starting the road to recovery.”

  “Sounds hard,” I replied.

  “I won’t sugar coat it for you. It is going to be difficult. It’s going to take time to build back your trust in people—men especially.”

  Will’s face flashed before my eyes. I wondered if I had the strength to fight for him—for us. Suddenly, I was exhausted. “I’m really tired right now. Can we do this some other time?”

  Dr. Leighton nodded. “I’ll be back to see you in the morning. Get some rest.”

  “Okay,” I replied.

  Once she left the room, I buzzed for another shot.

  ***

  I was watching I Love Lucy reruns when my door opened. I gasped in shock. My sister Natalie breezed through with a grin plastered on her face. “Hey, Melly!” Luke stood behind her, ducking his head.

  “What are you doing home from college?” I asked.

  “I drove in last night.”

  “Why?”

  She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Do I have to have a reason?”

  I snorted. “Well, considering you’re at a school two hours away, I would think you’d have a reason to come home on a Monday. I mean, don’t you have class tomorrow?”

  “Maybe,” she said softly.

  Luke still stood in the corner. “Where’s Mom and Dad?” I asked.

  Natalie didn’t answer. Instead, she glanced back at Luke. “Um, they had to take care of something.”

  I leaned forward in the bed. “Why are you guys acting so weird?”

  “We’re not,” Natalie argued. She bent over to dig something out of her purse. “I brought you some magazines. I thought you might be bored.” She held one of them up for me. “Look, it’s Channing Tatum.” She waggled her eyebrows at me. “Yum.”

  I sighed. “Stop pretending there’s nothing wrong. I want the truth dammit!”

  Before I could say anything else, Luke stepped over to my bed. I gasped. “What happened to you?”

  The right side of his face was completely mangled. Angry red scratches ran down his cheek that was turning yellow and purple, and one of his eyes was blood shot.

  Suddenly, I remembered what he’d said to me that day in the car—how he’d vowed if anyone said any shit about me, he’d punch his lights out. “No, Luke, please tell me you didn’t fight somebody.”

  “I’m sorry, Mel. I had too.”

  “But you promised me you wouldn’t!”

  His brown eyes darkened with anger. “You don’t know what they said.”

  “Let me guess. Mom and Dad are at the school trying to sort this mess out, aren’t they?”

  He nodded.

  “What’s going to happen to you?”

  When Luke didn’t answer me, Natalie cleared her throat. “He’s suspended for the week, and he can’t play in next week’s games.”

  I closed my eyes. Not being able to play basketball was t
he worst punishment anyone could have given Luke. He lived and breathed the game just like I did. But he’d risked everything to fight someone over my honor.

  Once again, it was all my fault.

  Suddenly, I was so exhausted it felt like a tremendous effort just to keep my head up. All I wanted was to sleep. I didn’t want to have to deal with anymore of my problems, and I couldn’t bear looking at Luke’s face. “Listen, it’s time for my medicine again. And it makes me sleepy, so I guess we’ll have to visit later.”

  Natalie appeared stung. “But I just drove in to see you!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t say anything. Instead, she grabbed her purse and dropped the magazines on my bed. “Come on Luke, we better go.”

  When he started to leave, I said, “Luke, I-I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Mel,” he replied. His shoulders drooped in defeat as the door closed, causing my heart to ache.

  Natalie breezed past me. When she got to the door, she turned around. There were tears in her eyes. “Melanie, I’m sorry about what happened. I wish I knew what to say, but I don’t.”

  “You don’t have to say anything, Nat. The fact you came to see me really means a lot.”

  She nodded. “You’re my little sister, and I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I whispered.

  She hesitated. “Just don’t let this defeat you, okay?”

  I stared at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you’re too strong of a person to let this ruin you. You’ve got too much ahead of you.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  She sighed. “I’ll be back to see you tomorrow, okay?”

  I nodded. The door closed behind her, and I covered my face with my hands. I just wanted out. With trembling hands, I reached over and buzzed for the nurse.

  “Yes?” asked the voice.

  “I need a shot.”

  “All right. Your nurse will be there in a minute.”

  I’ll be honest. Since the night I first met Nick, I thought about him way more than I should have. I started looking forward to work more and more because I knew he’d be there. And then when I started getting butterflies in my stomach whenever I was around him, I totally and completely freaked out. So much that it sent me googling ‘sex addiction’ and ‘codependency’. I mean, how screwed up was it that I was incapable of swearing off guys? It hadn’t even been a whole month since my affair with Coach T, and here I thinking about another guy.

  That’s when I decided Mom was right, and I needed therapy. I wanted to find out why I still couldn’t man up to tell the authorities I had lied or why depended on a man so much.

  Manny interrupted my thoughts by shoving a plate of linguini in front of me. “Hey! Wake up and get this to table ten.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled.

  As I turned to head over to my station, I almost collided with Nick. “Easy Jo-Jo, where’s the fire?” he asked, giving me his signature grin.

  “Just the usual Manny fire,” I replied.

  He chuckled before heading over to the undesignated “Senior Citizen Section”. He always made a point to come out of the kitchen to talk to the regulars. He was especially sweet to this one cute little old lady named Mrs. Santoriello who had sort of adopted him as a grandson.

  As I waited on the tables in my station, bits and pieces of their conversation floated bacl to me. I almost dropped some plates of lasagna when Mrs. Santoriello asked, “Don’t you have a girlfriend, Nicky?”

  I held my breath as I strained to hear his response. The customers waiting on their food gave me an odd look. “Oh, sorry,” I said, putting the plates down.

  “Nope, no girlfriend for me.”

  “And why not? A handsome young man like you should have a string of admirers.”

  I could almost feel Nick’s cheeks reddening.

  “Jordan,” Mrs. Santoriello called.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Can you tell me how it’s possible Nicky doesn’t have a girlfriend?”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing would come out. Nick ducked his head and jammed his hands in his pockets. Since I was never one for being speechless, I fought to find my voice. “I don’t know, Mrs. Santoriello.”

  She shook her head at my response. Just as I was about to turn to go refill glasses, she clapped her hands together. “I know! Nicky, you should date Jordan!”

  Now it was my turn to blush. Jeez, not only was I never speechless, but I most certainly never blushed—not until I’d met Nick. “Well, Jordan and I are good friends,” Nick replied.

  Mrs. Santoriello was undaunted. “But lots of relationships start out as friends. Take my late husband and me. We lived two houses down from each other our whole lives, and as children, we played together every afternoon. Then in high school, we were still good friends until this one Sadie Hawkins dance. I had no one to ask or go with, so I asked him.” She closed her eyes, reliving the happy memories. “We had our first kiss that night—right after we both admitted how we really felt about each other.”

  I glanced over at Nick. He was smiling at Mrs. Santoriello. When he caught me looking at him, he winked. It was my turn to duck my head.

  “That’s a very sweet story,” I murmured. Before she could say anything else, I hightailed it back over to my customers to see if they needed anything.

  I had just grabbed up a pitcher of sweet tea when I saw Detective Pendley standing in the doorway. I skidded to a stop. Just like I’d been avoiding Mom pressing me to go to the authorities, I’d also been avoiding any contact from the detectives or my lawyer. I just wanted everything to go away and forget that I had ever cried rape against Coach T. I was ridiculous to think I could just wish it all away. I’d created too much of a shit storm for that.

  I strolled as nonchalantly as I could up to Detective Pendley. “Oh, hey, how are you?”

  He forced a smile. “I’m doing better now that I’m finally able to see you.”

  Damn, I’d been busted. “I’m sorry. With changing schools and all, things have been pretty hectic.” Trying to change the subject, I asked, “Would you like a table or booth?”

  “Is there any specific reason why we’re no longer able to reach you on your cell or home phone?”

  “Well, we had the numbers changed because of the threats I’d been receiving.”

  Detective Pendley arched his eyebrows. “It would have been nice of you to share your new numbers.”

  I glanced away from his intense stare. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

  “I came by today to update you on the case.”

  “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you as well.” I tried desperately to fight the fear creeping over me.

  “Melanie Reeves has been hospitalized the past week after suffering a nervous breakdown.”

  My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh my God, what happened?”

  “She admitted to being raped by Mark Thompson.”

  The pitcher of tea slid from my hand and smashed onto the floor. Ignoring the mess and the looks of shock from the other customers, I said, “She finally came clean?”

  Detective Pendley nodded. “Her admission changes everything. It’s practically a slam dunk case now.”

  “Wow, that’s great,” I murmured.

  “I just thought you’d like to know.”

  I didn’t know what to say or do, so I bobbed my head. “Um, yeah, I’m glad you came by. I’ll have my mom call your office with our new numbers.”

  Smirking, Detective Pendley said, “I suppose with this news you won’t avoid me or McKay anymore?”

  “No,” I whispered. After he breezed through the doors, I exhaled noisily. Nick appeared with a mop and started cleaning up the tea. “Oh no, let me do that. It was all my fault.”

  “It’s okay, Jordan. I got it. Just get back to your customers.”

  Somehow I made it through the rest of my shift. It was like I was on auto-pilot w
hile taking orders and filling drinks. My mind couldn’t think of anything but Melanie and her breakdown.

  When I was almost done closing up, I went in search of Nick. I found him in his usual spot out on the steps.

  “Got a smoke?”

  He grinned as he dug into his pants pocket. He passed me one of his standard Marlboro Lights. “Hey moocher, last time I checked, you work just like I do.”

  “Nah, I’d much rather depend on the kindness of strangers for my smoking habit,” I replied, bringing the cigarette to my lips.

  As Nick leaned over and lit my cigarette, I couldn’t help but hold my breath. Something about having him that close just sent me tingling from head to toe. And of course, that induced a guilt trip.

  When he extinguished the lighter flame, he said, “Dude, anyone who can quote Tennessee Williams can bum smokes off me anytime.”

  I eased down on the concrete steps beside him. “You’ve read A Streetcar Named Desire?”

  “Hell yeah.” I guess my face must’ve registered some immense surprise because he snorted. “This may shock you Jordan, but I do have other talents besides being the best Italian cook in a fifty mile radius!”

  I laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know that, smartass. It’s just I didn’t take you for someone who was a big reader.”

  Nick cocked his head at me, and I winced. “Damn. I’m sorry. That so did not come out right.” Staring into his blue eyes, I couldn’t control the further word vomit when I said, “I mean, I’m only reading it because we have to in school.” I sighed. “Jeez, you always make me say the wrong things. I get so tongue-tied around you.” Oh Jesus. Did I actually just say that to him? I wished for the parking lot to open up and swallow me from the epic embarrassment.

  Flicking the ashes to the ground, Nick took another drag on his cigarette. “You don’t impress me as the type of girl who gets nervous around a guy.”

  “Trust me, I’m usually not,” I protested through a cloud of smoke.

  “Then why do I make you nervous?”

  My breath hitched in my chest. “Because I’ve never met a guy like you before.”