Saving Barrette

by Shey Stahl

  In downtown Olympia, there’s a police station. It’s in the middle of the city, tucked away next to restaurants and a falling economy. Inside it, I sit at a table next to a woman who calls herself a sexual assault advocate. It took me a year and a half, but I’m here, ready to take back the control. I won’t let them take anything else from me.

  The officer, a male one, hands me a box of tissues and asks me to tell him what happened. As if I remember, as if I want to remember.

  They ask questions and expect answers.

  What I remember? A hat. A tattoo. Swabs in my vagina and needles for shots. The feeling of everything inside me being silent, because my words meant nothing. I remember looking at a form and seeing the words Rape Victim in bold black letters and my control over everything I was going through was an illusion. My struggle was internal, an unseen battle I couldn’t put words on, until, until I walked into the doors of that police station.

  It didn’t matter that the cop asked me questions like, what I was wearing and if I had been drinking, if I was flirting and maybe led him on, to finally, did I ever verbally say no?

  I sigh and state the facts. The only one that matters as far as I was concerned. “My denial, my no, my fucking voice went unheard, and that’s all that matters.”

  He nods, takes notes, but it’s his demeanor that upsets me. I shouldn’t be made out to be the villain here. I did nothing wrong.

  I stare at the cop and think, why would he and how could he assume I’d asked to have my face smashed with a rock or raped in a forest? I shake and cry, and then eventually yell, “I may have been drunk, but that fucking report, the blood they took from me in the hospital had been tainted.”

  An official police report is filed that afternoon, and Asa’s dad helps me hire an attorney. He requests for a DNA sample from Roman. His attorney immediately responds back, why’d I wait so long to file the police report. Is it because the accused has an upcoming bowl game? Did I want revenge because he broke up with me in my dorm room two weeks ago ending our two-year relationship?

  I gasp and stare at my attorney who I barely know. “We’ve never dated. Ever.”

  He nods and gives me a look of understanding. “He’s probably panicking. From here, we’ll present our case to the judge and ask for an arrest warrant to be issued.”

  Are you laughing? I am, because that’s the defense Roman gives when asked to give a DNA sample.

  Because Roman refuses the test, denies any involvement, no arrest is made, and he’s cleared to play in the game Saturday afternoon.

  It could take weeks, if not longer. For now, he’s free to—all joking aside—roam about the country.

  It’s hours later, on Friday morning and I’m standing in the police station with Asa’s dad. I look up at the gray sky. With knots in my stomach and barely able to walk, I never thought I’d be strong enough to report it. But I do, and I did it because justice, even if it’s only internal, is the right thing to do.

  I reach in my pocket to the note Asa gave me before he left this morning.

  I can’t be there with you, but I’m with you, always. I go where you go. – Asa

  A rush of serenity hits me. If it hadn’t been for him, I’m not sure I would have done this and I have him to thank.

  FRIDAY EVENING, I make an appointment with my therapist. Asa is at his mandatory dinner with his team, and though I want to see him, it’s not an option tonight.

  So I go to my therapist. I haven’t talked much about Lexi, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been an important part of the last year and a half. She has been.

  It’s been a month since I’ve last seen her, so I start with the new developments with Roman. She encourages me and assures me it’s the right thing to do.

  Then I tell her about Asa. Out of everything I’ve told her, it’s my relationship with Asa she’s concerned about. He’s always a topic of conversation with us. I understand why, I do, but I also think without him, I wouldn’t have even gone to therapy in the first place.

  “Tell me about you and Asa,” she says, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger as if she’s bored. She’s not. I think she just plays with her hair when she’s concentrating.

  “Like what?” I shift in the chair, aware of the fact that this is a concern for her.

  “You’re sexually active with him now, right?”

  I laugh nervously. “Sexually active sounds so clinical.”

  “Okay.” Lexi quirks a half smile. “Are you two having sex?”

  I can’t stop the smile when I say, “We are.”

  “And?”

  “It’s good.”

  Her eyes narrow. “You know my feelings on this, right?”

  “Yes, I do. It can create an unhealthy attachment for us.” Too late. We’re there.

  “And are you two considering that?”

  Nervously, I run my fingers through my hair. “I haven’t talked to him about it.”

  Lexi nods and sets her notebook down on the table in front of her. Look at the set frown and the wrinkles on her forehead. Disappointment is written all over her face. “You need to have the conversation with him about it. Victims of sexual assault crimes will often form unhealthy relationships with alcohol, drugs, and sometimes sex because they use it as a coping mechanism. You might feel better when you’re having sex with him, am I right?”

  “Well, yeah. It feels good.”

  “And that’s great, Barrette, but it’s important to remember your boundaries and recognize what makes you uncomfortable.”

  I listen. I nod, but I’m not entirely sure she believes me.

  I’m not entirely sure I believe me or what to make of what she’s saying. I know I don’t want to end things with Asa, nor do I want any part of our relationship to change.

  JOEY PLACES HER hands on my shoulders, hunching to make eye contact with me. “You’re like, so short. I feel like I should kneel to be at your eye level.” I roll my eyes at her humor, then comes the “you’re cute, but” part. “You’ve been through a lot. Maybe we shouldn’t go.”

  I’ve been through a lot? Have I? Hasn’t she, too?

  I breathe in deeply and tie my hair back. I stare at myself in the mirror wearing everything I hate. Like makeup. Like gold and purple paint on my cheeks like those little glitter Ws all the cheerleaders wear on their faces. It looks like a pep rally threw up on me. “I’m going,” I tell Joey. “We’re going, and we’re gonna be normal people, regardless.” I had it in my head that today I was going to be normal. I wasn’t going to think about the police report I filed yesterday or the fact that they made me feel like shit about waiting for so long. I was going to be a nineteen-year-old girl for a night and experience college the way I was supposed to. Without cares. Without worries of not coping in crowds, or not wanting a beer, or worse, will he listen if I say no? Sure, I know I still need to be aware of my surroundings, but I can and will have a good time.

  Joey laughs, wiping gold-dusted glitter from her black jeans. “Regardless of what?”

  “Regardless of the fact that he will be playing, and I have to see his face.”

  Her expression changes. “I think I saw my attacker once in line at Starbucks.”

  My eyes widen. “What did you do?”

  She inhales, preparing herself, and then offers a soft smile. She tucks her makeup into her bag on her bed and then faces me. “I bought his coffee.”

  “What?” I gasp. “Why?”

  “I don’t know why. It was morbid of me, but something snapped when he looked at me and his face paled. He knew I knew who he was. He had tattoos and piercings, and I wouldn’t forget that. But I looked back at him, smiled, paid for his coffee. He told me ‘No, that’s okay. I got it.’ I smiled and said, ‘No. What a powerful word that holds so little meaning to most.’ And then I left, burst into tears and spent the next four days in therapy.” With tears in her eyes, she exhales, ridding her body of the anger, and grabs my face between her hands. “You look like a tiny cute plum.�
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  I laugh, rolling my eyes. She drops her hands from my face and pats my leg. “Now, let’s go cheer on these dogs.”

  “It’s pronounced, dawg.”

  “Gotcha.”

  I REALLY HAVE no idea what to expect at the football game. It’s been a whole year since I’ve been to a live game. We sit in the student section. It’s rambunctious and not at all what I should be around, but something happens while I’m suffocating between sweaty gold and purple bodies. It happens when I see Asa play the game of his life, despite the one person he’d like to kill being on the field with him. His confidence doesn’t waver, at least not on the outside. Here, with seventy thousand people watching him, he gives them what they come to see. A true leader.

  The calmness he has on the field is unheard of. He’s always like that too. Sometimes I think the world could crumble around him and he’d still be able to throw a football. He plays with more passion, more commitment than I’ve ever seen, but then again, I don’t know that much about football players. I know about one, the guy who saved my life in more ways than I can tell you.

  It’s not all easy watching the game. Not only am I so short I could pass for a child—which means I can’t see shit—Asa takes a couple of rough hits that leave me a little on edge.

  I slouch uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair when he’s slow to get up. Watching him get injured is never easy. It always sends a jolt to my heart and sickness in my belly. I can guess why, but it seems every play he’s left wide-open by Codey. Codey is Roman’s roommate. He’ll defend that guy no matter what because Codey worships him. Unfortunately for Codey, he’d be a nobody on campus had he not been roomed with Roman—the campus manwhore—freshman year. “I hope he’s okay.”

  “He’s fine,” Joey replies, leaning forward. “He’s tough and look”—she points to the fifty-yard line—“T-Bone helped him up.”

  “Aw, cute.” I grin and waggle my eyebrows. “So when’s your next date?”

  “He asked me to go to Baton Rouge for spring break.”

  “Really?” The excitement I have for her date is crazy. “Are you going?”

  Joey rolls her eyes. “I’m a broke college student who can barely afford lunch most days—which let’s face it—probably isn’t a bad idea for me, but I don’t think I can go.”

  “Why not?” I watch her face, the pink flushed cheeks from the cold and her pretty dark eyes. “I mean if you can’t, that’s one thing, and I get it, but is there something else?”

  “Does Asa know him very well? “

  “I think so. They’ve been roommates for two years and last spring break they went to Mexico together. Between football and classes, they spend a lot of time together. I’d like to think he knows him.”

  “And what does he say about him?” she asks, her eyes on the field. “Is he a good guy? I’ve heard he’s kind of a player.”

  “Oh, well, yeah. He’s been around, but he’s always been very nice to me. Asa’s never said a bad thing about him.”

  She snorts. “Has Asa ever said anything mean to anyone before?”

  “Uh, yeah. Ask him his thoughts on Roman these days.”

  Joey laughs, her eyes darting to mine, then the field. “True.”

  Speaking of Roman, he sits on the bench most of the game, and when he does play, he’s wide-open and Asa throws anywhere but him. I can’t say I blame him. If I had the ball, I’d probably nail him in the dick with it.

  I think, right then, what if it’s really him. I think back to every conversation I’ve had with him, shifting through hundreds of different memories, but I can’t pinpoint any one that screams, yes, it was him. I still don’t know, but I have my suspicions. Especially after the way he acted in my room that night.

  The game is a blowout with the Huskies winning 41-14. Asa dominates the game in both passing yards and running the ball himself for two touchdowns. With their spot in the Fiesta Bowl secured, there’s a whirl of students rushing the field. I’m not comfortable enough to go down there, and Joey tells me she’d rather jab her eyeballs out than rush the field like a lunatic. So we wait. I wait.

  As selfish as it sounds, I want Asa’s attention to myself. When I talk to him now, congratulate him, thank him for what he’s done for me, I want it to be just us where he isn’t being pulled in every direction.

  He knows I’m here. He looks over at me, smiling. I wink, but I’m sure he won’t see me this far away.

  It’s another hour of press and autographs before I see him again. He’s showered now and smells so good, a herd of press surrounding him. He’s struggling to get away from them when I catch his heated gaze on mine. I stand with my back pressed into the concrete wall and smile.

  Watching him from a distance brings back all the memories of yesterday at the police station. The filing, the questions, all of it. For the most part, I’ve pushed the thoughts aside and I’m able to look past it, but they’re still there, still on the surface, waiting to come forward. The moment his blond hair comes into view, I’m no longer uneasy. Quite the opposite, actually. I’m relieved that through all that, through eighteen months of me being undecided and living day by day, of me needing days where I couldn’t handle myself let alone my thoughts, Asa remained the one consistent part of my life. Because of him, I’ve pushed forward and made the next step to healing.

  In many ways, there are unhealthy aspects to our relationship. Parts we’re probably going to have to discuss sooner rather than later, but for now, I have Asa. My messy-haired boy who always puts his girl first.

  Terrell walks up to Asa and throws him over his shoulder. I know Asa is nearly two hundred pounds so that couldn’t have been easy, but Terrell does this with little effort.

  He carries him over to me. “This boy needs to talk to you. He’s been talking about you all day, and frankly, I’m tired of it.”

  “T-Bone, put me down,” Asa orders, his breath expelling in a gasp.

  Terrell sets him on his feet, runs his hand over Asa’s head like he’s some kind of caring mother, pats his back and then his head again.

  Asa rolls his eyes, his posture stiffening. “That’s not true.”

  “I’d argue that, but I have a lady to impress,” Terrell pats Asa’s head again and then steps toward Joey, who hasn’t left my side all night. “Lady.” He holds out his elbow for her like she’s supposed to take it.

  Rolling her eyes, she sighs and tucks her arm inside of his. “You’re so weird, but strangely adorable. If you can call a six-foot-five man-child adorable.”

  “Oh, you can. I’m very adorable. Just wait. I’m like a real-life teddy bear.”

  We both laugh as Terrell walks with Joey, both of them smiling. I sigh. “He’s not going to break her heart, is he?”

  Asa laughs. “No. He’s a good guy.”

  “Good. Because I’d have to kick his ass if he wasn’t.”

  He raises an eyebrow at me. “Is that so? Don’t you think you’re a little small to go around making promises like that?”

  I stand on my tippy-toes. “Small but mighty.”

  “That you are,” Asa says, winking at me and tugging at the front of my hoodie. “Good game, huh?”

  “I forgot how exhilarating it was to see you play in person. Those were some hard hits, but you played so well.”

  He smiles, and then his expression shifts, morphs into something else as he glances over my shoulder. And then his eyes dart in the other direction. A group of students approach—all girls—and push their chests out as they come face-to-face with Asa. “Asa! Can you sign our shirts?”

  I see they’re all wearing hoodies with his name on them. Cute.

  He surprises me and leans into me, his left arm wrapping around me. “Yeah, sure.” The whole time he keeps that one arm around me. I’d like to think it’s his silent gesture to them, to anyone, he’s taken. They all talk about the game with him, offer their support and congratulations. He smiles politely, thanks them, and then asks me to follow him.

&nbs
p; We’re down the hall in the other direction near the bathrooms. He takes me down another hallway to a dark area of the stadium where there are no crowds.

  “Thank you for coming,” he says with a grin, knowing this is the first game I’ve been to in a long time. “I didn’t think you’d be ready to come here after everything.”

  “It was nice seeing you play again,” I admit, because it was. I motion around the stadium. “I forgot how much I missed this. But I needed to experience this. For nearly two years, I’ve foregone everything I loved because I couldn’t handle it, but something happened when I left that police station with your dad.” Asa’s brow furrows in concentration, hanging on my every word. “I saw it for what it was. A start in the right direction for me.”

  We stare at one another, lost in the moment. I fidget, wishing I knew what he was thinking. He surprises me when he grins.

  “Kiss me.” He’s not wasting any time, and I think maybe we should slow down, but to hell with that. Live for today, right? Then he adds, “I really need you to kiss me because you want to.”

  I do, and his lips are cool against the heat of my mouth, no doubt because I’ve been thinking of this kiss for hours. It’s not a tentative kiss, but it’s also not gentle by any means. It’s exactly the way Asa is. Full of passion.

  He sighs into my mouth, pulling back, and then takes my hand before he winks. But then, as with anything in life, the night changes. What I thought I had a handle on, takes a turn.

  Asa sees him first, and tension rolls from him in waves, his posture stiff and unpredictable. I twist in his arms, but he shields me, a protective stance as he backs me up against the wall behind me.

  Do you notice the way my heart plummets and my breathing goes from heavy to stopping altogether? What about the way Asa’s eyes turn cold and violent? It’s all an indication of the one person I never care to see again, regardless of what the police report leads to.

  He walks toward us, not a care in the world, smiles at me but turns his cool gaze to Asa. “Next time I’m open, share.”