The Taste of Her Words

by Candace Knoebel

  Dean looked to the ground as Dad offered me a sympathetic smile.

  “I don’t expect you to understand.” His voice cut through the heavy silence the moment we were alone.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “How can I when you haven’t told me a peep about what happened back then? All I have to go off are the town whispers and my father’s word that you’re a good man. But this? You knew, Dean. You knew who he was and what he was capable of, and at the first sign of trouble—”

  He looked at me, eyes rimmed in red. “At the first sign, I snapped,” he finished for me. “Go on. Say it. Just like I did back then, because I was jealous of Stan. Or was it because I was the least paid attention to? Or was it because I have an anger streak even the psychologists couldn’t repair? You name the rumor. I’ve heard them all.”

  Anger hit me like a strike from a whip. “Why are you getting defensive?”

  “Why are you so quick to think I’m who the town has painted me out to be?” he retaliated, the hurt in his voice heavy like weights around his chest.

  “I never said—”

  “You don’t have to say it, Andy. I can see it in your eyes. You’re looking at me like you’re scared. You don’t think that hurts? To realize you think I’d hurt you? That I’d ever hurt anyone just for fun?”

  His image began to blur in front of me. My chest felt like bricks had been pressed on it. “Tell me what happened, Dean.”

  “I can’t.”

  His wall was back up. He looked to the side at something that wasn’t there.

  My whole body began to shake. “How convenient. You ask me to trust you and let my reservations go despite what everyone else thinks, yet you can’t even open up and let me in?”

  “Why can’t you just trust me?” he asked, pleading as the air grew thick around us.

  “Why can’t you trust me enough to tell me?’ I threw back at him. Tears stung at the back of my tight throat. My heart was splintering, shattering like glass.

  He went quiet. In his silence, I knew I’d never breach his wall.

  “Fine. If you can’t tell me, I can’t do this, Dean. This… it nearly cost me my case.”

  “I never asked you to defend me.”

  I couldn’t believe him. “You’d never have to. I’d do it because I love you, Dean! And if you felt a smidgen of what you say you do, then you’d respect me enough to be honest the same way I’ve been.”

  His face turned in my direction, and the anguish and near detachment in his eyes pushed me backward. “Just like you were honest about how you haven’t been with Matt since college. How no one has read your words except for me. About how you feel nothing for him, yet it was his arms you found solace in when you ran away from me five years ago?”

  Ice filled my veins. “I haven’t let him read anything.”

  He looked as if I’d just hit him square in the heart. “But you don’t deny sleeping with him?”

  I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t see past my own truths barreling over me. “Dean, it isn’t what you think. I didn’t sleep with him. I just… I wanted to see if it could work. And it didn’t.”

  Paper hearts cannot withstand such pressure.

  Cracking, splitting, seeping fear from my soul.

  Cover the cracks until I’m a patchwork of your love.

  “But you still went to him, Andy. Him. You lied to me. You told me that relationship was over in college. Yet, years later, you found yourself curious enough to let him think he could get close to you again? How do I know you won’t get curious again in another five years?” The disgust in his voice was a sound I’d never forget. “You’re not ready to let go of what everyone else thinks and wants, Andy. You’re not ready to live your own life.”

  He paused, waiting for me to object, but the words wouldn’t form.

  He nodded, inhaling. “I have to go.”

  He was gone before I had a chance to say the word wait.

  I IGNORED THE KNOCK AT my door.

  “Andy,” Josh said from the other side. “You have to come out at some point. Dad can only keep Charlie occupied for so long.”

  It had been two days since I last saw Dean, and I hadn’t been able to stop crying. He’d tried calling a few times, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. There was too much that had happened. Most of that still didn’t make any sense.

  “Go away. I’m sleeping,” I said, my voice hoarse.

  It went quiet. I strained my ears, waiting to hear his footsteps carry him away, but I knew better.

  He didn’t give up easy.

  “That’s it. I’m coming in.” I heard the door handle jiggling. A second later, Josh was in my room.

  “My door was locked,” I said, glaring at him from my growing pile of used tissues.

  He held up a bent bobby pin. “I wouldn’t have had half the dirt on people in town if it wasn’t for my excellent lock-picking skills.”

  “You’re sick.” I rolled over, covering my face with my blanket.

  “If I’m sick, you’re pathetic.”

  I sat up and threw a pillow at him. He ducked and it hit the wall, a small smirk on his face.

  “Please, go away.”

  “Make me,” he taunted.

  I groaned, covering my face again.

  There was a moment of silence, and then I heard his feet shuffling until the bed dipped near my feet. “You have him all wrong, Andy.” His voice was quieter, softer.

  My heart constricted in pain. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He put his hand on my leg. “Well, I do and majority rules.”

  “You’re one person.”

  “Two if you count my split personality.”

  I lifted the covers and grimaced at him.

  “Listen, do you want the truth about that night or not?”

  I was upright again.

  His grin told me he knew he had me. “I figured you would.”

  “He didn’t want to tell me.”

  “With good reason,” Josh said. “The only reason I know is because I stole the file from Dad’s office and read up on the case. I had to know why Dean did what he did since he refused to talk about it. You remember a girl named Lucy Mannigsfield?”

  “The town drunk’s daughter?”

  Josh nodded. “Everyone said she slept around.”

  “And?”

  He took in a deep breath. “She was raped, Andy.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “She was raped by Stan.”

  I couldn’t find my words as everything circled into place. The look in Dean’s eye. His reason for not speaking up. Stan Liberman was the quarterback on the football team, son to the mayor. His family was highly active within the community, which was why Dean was never looked at the same again after that night happened.

  In one fell swoop, he went from being one of Stan’s closest friends, to putting him into the hospital.

  “Dean left the after-party early that night. He was heading to his car when he heard her scream for help,” Josh recounted, ghosts swimming in his eyes. “Stan was already raping her by the time Dean found them.” His eyebrows furrowed as he looked down. “He said it was… awful. Stan had her face mashed against his backseat. Her dress was over her head and blood was everywhere.” He looked over at me, and I felt my heart drop. “She was a virgin, Andy.”

  I gasped, heat pushing at the back of my throat.

  “Dean reacted. He pulled Stan off and helped her up. Stan was too drunk to think straight. He started reaching for her, trying to pull her back down, so Dean told her to run. Stan punched Dean, and then chased the girl through the parking lot. When Dean came to, he found Lucy struggling beneath Stan between two cars. He was hitting her. Nothing Dean did to pull him off stopped him, so Dean lost it on him.

  “When she was finally able to get Dean off Stan, she begged him not to say a word to anyone about it. Who would believe a girl like Lucy that a guy like Stan, whose father ran the town, raped her? No one. He was a golden b
oy. Dean knew that, so he kept his promise. He didn’t say a word. Not even to his dad.

  “And if it hadn’t been for Lucy going to Dad when she found out Dean was going to be put in juvenile detention, he wouldn’t have the future he has today. He was that loyal. She told Dad everything, and he swore to keep her name out of the press. That’s why the case went private. That’s why no one in town knows what happened.”

  I couldn’t think straight as tears rushed over my cheeks. All Dean ever wanted was to be the knight in shining armor, but his armor was tarnished with the stains of others.

  Chivalrous, I thought with a sickening swell.

  “I pushed him to tell me what happened,” I said through the tightening in my throat. “I told him I couldn’t be with him if he didn’t. Told him I couldn’t trust him. What have I done?”

  Josh fidgeted, chewing on his lip, and I knew something was wrong.

  “What is it?” I asked, stomach feeling like it was being sloshed back and forth.

  When he looked at me, I felt the world stop spinning. “Matt told Dean you slept with him. He said he read your journal and that you went to him after you left five years ago. Is it true?”

  I broke away from his gaze, not able to look him in the eyes. “I didn’t sleep with him. I just… I had to see if there was anything there.”

  “Why, Andy?”

  “I was drunk. I didn’t realize what I was doing. I’d just returned from here… from Mom’s bullshit and all her friend’s telling me I needed to make it work.” I paused, sucking in a deep breath. “And I’d kissed Dean. I knew it was wrong. I knew I shouldn’t have looked at him the way I did, and I wanted to be normal.”

  These were words I’d never spoken out loud. Words too hard to utter.

  “I wanted to be what everyone expected of me, so I gave Matt one last chance. I did invite him over to see if there was anything there romantically, but then I told him to leave. It didn’t feel right. I didn’t love him. When he—”

  I stopped, because I couldn’t find the strength to finish what needed to be said. I believed if I refused to say it out loud, then I could pretend it never happened.

  “Andy…” Josh said, lightly squeezing my ankle.

  I found his eyes. “I didn’t say anything, because I knew it was my fault.”

  Josh stiffened. “What?”

  “It was my fault, Josh. I shouldn’t have invited him over. I knew how he was. He never takes no for an answer. He never—”

  Shadows carved hollows into Josh’s eyes. “Please, Andy, tell me you’re not saying he raped you.”

  I was trying to find air, but breathing had suddenly become foreign. “Not quite.”

  “Did you say no?”

  I didn’t say anything as my heart skipped and jumped and made no sense at all. My eyes squeezed shut as the memories of that night pushed behind them, wanting to be heard. I’d buried what happened beneath my shame. I’d let him kiss me while I tried to feel something, anything, for him, but it hadn’t been there. When I put my hand on his chest and told him to stop, he’d kept trying and trying until I somehow found myself with my face smashed down in my mattress, the burning trail of my silent tears imprinted on my memories.

  If it hadn’t been for Charlie waking up and crying at my door that night, I wouldn’t have walked away able to say Matt had never raped me. Charlie had saved me. Thank God he’d never know it.

  “Charlie woke up,” I admitted, trying to speak through the lump wedged in my throat. “It was enough to pull Matt from whatever blind rage he was in. Enough to keep him from doing something that would have changed us.”

  “I’m going to fucking kill him,” Josh said as he shot up from the bed.

  I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “You can’t,” I said in a heightened whisper. “It was nearly five years ago. It can’t be proved.”

  “He pushed Dean, Andy. He said a lot of awful stuff about you… Dean snapped. He shouldn’t have, but all he could think about was what happened before and—”

  “You don’t have to say it,” I said, trying to swallow the bile in my throat. “Dean can’t know.” It came out as a plea. “No one can. You have to promise.”

  A war waged on his face, but he finally relented. “I promise. But you have to at least tell Dad.”

  I wrung my hands together, tears stinging my eyes. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

  He sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat. “You can’t let him run your life, Andy. You have to do everything you can so he can’t continue to do this stuff to you and Charlie anymore.”

  I reached for another tissue and blew my nose. “He won’t stop, Josh. He purposefully pushed Dean to get himself beat up so he could have leverage over me. You don’t think he could do something even crazier?”

  Josh didn’t say anything. He knew I was right.

  “I can’t drag Dean any further into this. I… I love him too much. I won’t be the cause of ruining his future.”

  Josh let me go. Switched the lamp on. I winced from the light, knowing I must have looked like shit.

  “Fuck that, Andy. You’re stronger than that. Stronger than some fuckbag of a man. You’re not going to take this shit. None of us will let you. This whole pity party you’re throwing for yourself, I won’t be a part of it.” He stood up, hands on his hip. “Now, get your ass up off this bed, get into that bathroom, and clean your damn face. When you’re done, we’re going into Dad’s office and you’re going to tell him about… about what happened, and anything else you’re covering up for Matt.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but he wasn’t done.

  “No. I don’t want to hear another word. This guy is just that, Andy. A guy. Nothing more and nothing less. He doesn’t own you, and you aren’t going to let yourself be owned. I’ve sat back too many years trying to live up to your potential to watch you fall off that pedestal. Who will I have to hate and blame for all my failures if you give up?”

  This warranted a smidgen of a smile from me.

  He smirked, though there was a sadness to it. “There she is,” he said, brushing his knuckles over my chin.

  “He isn’t going to stop,” I said, searching my little brother’s eyes for strength.

  His face turned serious. “Good. We’re all counting on it.”

  THE NEXT DAY, I FOUND myself wandering up the gravel path to Dean’s house. What I needed to do was clear, and it was something I’d dreaded from the moment I woke.

  I had to let him go.

  I spotted him across the yard, playing a game of basketball with who I thought must be one of his younger nephews. Sweat glistened off his back as he tried to dribble around the small boy. I could tell he wasn’t trying hard. The boy couldn’t be much older than Charlie, but he was able to smack the ball from Dean’s hands, then turned and jumped for a shot. The ball circled the rim, and then tipped into its center.

  “Yes,” the boy shouted as Dean dragged a hand down his face, feigning defeat.

  All I could think about was turning and leaving. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let him go. I didn’t want to. He was everything I ever wanted in life. And why should I have to let him go?

  Because he deserves happiness, and that can’t be found while Matt’s in the picture.

  I started to turn back, ready to run again, as the boy danced in victory around Dean, but then he stopped when he noticed me.

  Dean must have noticed as well, because he turned to look in the same direction as the boy, the smile he wore vanishing.

  “Hey,” I said, giving a timid wave. Heat invaded every inch of my skin.

  “Who are you?” the boy asked, holding the ball against his hip. He had the Thurston eye shape, and the same vivid eye color.

  “She’s a friend of mine,” Dean said as he reached for a towel to wipe off. “Why don’t you go get yourself some water and a snack? I’ll be inside in a bit.”

  The boy gave me an odd look, but then rushed toward the house, leaving us alone under
the oak trees swaying in the wind. I never thought I could feel as awkward and distant from Dean as I did in that moment. It was like all we’d built had vanished in a plume of smoke. Faded out just as quickly as it came.

  “Are you and Charlie okay?” he asked, his eyes barely grazing mine.

  Of course he’d ask if we’re okay. Always putting everyone else first. He’s my knight. My Lancelot.

  I brushed my finger under my nose and shifted in my stance. “I umm… wanted to ask you the same thing,” I said, wishing I could just hug him and forget everything that happened. Instead, I pulled my arm against my side, cupping my elbow because I had to stand strong.

  For both of us.

  He looked to his parents’ house, and then back to me, and I was hit with a gut-wrenching need to go back to the moment he decided to get a candy apple and tell myself to follow him. If I’d been there, things would have been different.

  “I’m as good as I can be. About to finish packing and head out.”

  Panic flapped its wings against my heart. “You’re leaving already? Before the firework show?”

  He exhaled, his gaze faltering toward the ground. “There’s no reason for me to stay.”

  My throat ran dry. I couldn’t explain how those words affected me. How my heart shriveled in defeat. It was over before it even had a chance to begin. I thought I was prepared to let him go. Somewhere deep inside me, I knew this fork in the road would come, but there was nothing in his words. No hope. No pleading.

  His eyes were already lost to me.

  I cleared my throat as I looked down, and then refocused my gaze on him, trying to keep it together. “I wanted to apologize for everything,” I continued, watching as the light he held for me faded. “For not trusting you. For pushing you—”

  “You don’t have to explain, Andy,” he said in a closed-off tone. He was avoiding my eyes, his body language like a steel wall between us. He didn’t want to talk. To fix this. “I get it. I’m a mess, and you can’t afford to have that in your life. Just… I’ll always be here for you, okay? If you ever need me… you know where to find me.”