Saving Barrette

by Shey Stahl

  I keep going because if I don’t, me, Waylon, Joey… our voices mean nothing. I keep going because they might have broken a piece of me, but my attackers, they don’t get to decide how I live my life regardless of the decision. I’m taking back my power. I’m rewriting my own story.

  There comes a day when you have to decide. Are you going to turn the page or close the book?

  I’m going to the next chapter.

  THE NIGHT AFTER the trial ends with the verdict shocks us all, Asa and I lay together in bed, in our home we’ve been sharing for the last six months. We try to make sense of what it means.

  “What happens now?” I ask him, my head on his chest as I listen to his breathing, my eyes on the mason jars lining our headboard. Each one displays a quote he’s put inside to remind me that I can and will get past this. My favorite one?

  Asa turns his head, his breathing light, his words whispered like a feather touching my skin. “We move forward.”

  In the last six months, I didn’t think we could ever get past this, especially with the rage and aggression Asa showed through the entire process. “How?”

  “I don’t know.” He sighs, his chest expanding with his breath. His hand moves to my cheek. I twist my head slightly and look up at him. “I love you.”

  “I don’t know how you do.” It hurts to say that, but it’s the truth. I’ve put him through hell. Asa would have been better off to let me go that night and went on with his life without me. I’m thankful he didn’t, but it will never stop those feelings.

  “I do,” he tells me, pressings his lips to my forehead. “I made a promise to you that night I would always be there for you and I’m keeping it. Always. I go where you go.”

  “I’m afraid,” I admit. It’s a natural reaction.

  “Don’t be. You’ve changed. We’ve changed. Be proud of that. Just because we had this one setback doesn’t mean we’ve lost the play clock. It just means we have to work harder for that first down, but we still have possession of the ball.”

  I lift my eyes to the glitter-glowing mason jar and smile. He’s right. We have control over our next play.

  I’d love to go as far to say that I’m healed. I’m all better and it’s like it never happened. Trauma doesn’t work like that. It’s a process. A sentence never served until it’s ready to release the hold on you. Where’s my field of roses and happy ever after? Unfortunately, it’s forever tied to the ones who took it from me.

  In the months following the trial, when I knew it was over, when I knew Roman and the others were finally behind bars, that’s when reality hit me. What we went through. What we’d overcome. I had Asa to thank for that. He saved me. Not because he needed to, but because he wanted to.

  It didn’t mean the road was easy for either of us. It came in waves, each one of us struggling to tread water at different times and leaning on one another to stay afloat.

  After practice one night, he finds me on our bed, lights off, the mason jars he’d made for me over the years now filled with twinkle lights to keep them bright. I stare at them. Every single one of them a reminder of what he gave me over the years.

  Hope.

  Encouragement.

  He begged me with quotes not to give up. Not tonight. Not ever.

  Asa closes our bedroom door behind him, a soft click followed by his footsteps. I look up, tears in my eyes. “Why’d you do it?”

  He gives me an apologetic look. “I know. I forgot to put the clothes in the washer again, but Terrell yelled at me for running the washing machine during ‘peak’ hours.” He flops down on the bed beside me, his hair still damp from his shower. “And then he gave me a lecture about wasting laundry soap.”

  Though I want to laugh, I don’t. I do smile and curl up next to him, my hand on his chest. “That’s not what I meant.”

  His eyebrows rise fractionally. “What then?” His hand runs up my back, his lips pressing to my forehead.

  “Why’d you stay with me through all this? I mean, I know you love me and all that, but I gave you nothing in return.” I twist in his arms and rest my chin on his chest. He lifts his head, peering down at me. His expression is one I’ve seen countless times over the years. Love. Compassion. Devotion. It’s all there. He holds my stare, waiting, the glow from the twinkle lights casting shadows on his face.

  He blinks, a soft smile pulling at his lips. He sits up and holds my face in his hands when he whispers, “Honey, love is supposed to be selfless, not selfish.”

  Emotion floods through me, my eyes stinging with tears, my heart beating faster than before. His words sprinkle down on me like glittery confetti. “How’d I get so lucky to have found you in this life?”

  His eyes dip to my mouth, his damp hair falling in his face. He kisses me, once, twice, a smile plastered to his lips. “I like to think we found each other.”

  I fight the urge to cry. I don’t need to. Not anymore. This is our beginning.

  Asa is so much more than I’ve ever given him credit for. He’s rare. He keeps his word. He doesn’t care that he doesn’t receive the same devotion in return, he just does it. And I’m going to love him as fiercely and with the same passion he’s shown me through my worst.

  He pulls back and winks at me. “I’m starving.”

  “There’s a pizza in the freezer we can cook.” I wink. “Then we can watch movies naked since Terrell and Joey went out for dinner.”

  “I like the way you think.”

  THERE’S NOTHING MORE adorable than Asa when he’s confused. His brow pulls together and he strangely resembles a pouting toddler. I just want to pinch his cheeks.

  He stares at the cardboard box on the counter, and then the smoky oven. “Clearly 450 was not the right temperature. What were they thinking?”

  Laughing, I wave smoke from my view and rip the batteries from the smoke detector that won’t stop. “Or you left it in too long.”

  He frowns. “Well, then, that’s your fault. You distracted me when you took your shirt off.”

  “I did not.” I motion to his bare chest. “You started it.”

  We’re just about to start an argument, the playful kind that ends up in bed when the doorbell rings.

  Asa stares at me, the burnt pizza smoking between us. “Expecting anyone?”

  “No. Maybe Joey and Terrell forgot their keys?”

  Reaching for my shirt, he throws it at me and then grabs his own. “Maybe it’s the pizza delivery guy to rescue us.”

  “Not likely.” I chuckle, slipping my shirt over my head, watching him walk toward the door.

  He opens the door and leans against the wall casually. “Hey.” And then he opens the door wider and in walks Cadence. She’s been crying.

  We don’t talk like we used to back in high school, and I think we’ve grown into entirely different people. Regardless, she was there when I needed her during the trial.

  I step toward her. She glances at me, then Asa. “I’m sorry. I should have called first.”

  “It’s okay. We were just not eating pizza,” I tell her, only to have Asa roll his eyes. I wave her inside and gesture toward the couch. “Come in.”

  Asa clears his throat and then coughs from the smoke in the house. He opens a window, but it doesn’t help. “I’m gonna go get pizza.”

  “Pepperoni and pineapple,” I tell him, smiling as I sit next to Cadence on the couch.

  “Pineapple doesn’t belong on a pizza,” he tells me just before kissing my temple.

  I argue that it does, but he waves his hand in my face and tells me I’m crazy. When he leaves, I reach out and touch Cadence’s knee.

  “You guys are adorable together,” she says, and then bursts into tears.

  I hand her a box of tissues. “Are you okay?”

  She nods but continues to cry. “I just… I can’t believe I didn’t see it. The warning signs were there with Roman all along and I never saw it.”

  I hesitate to ask, “What do you mean?”

  “I ignored the
fact that he never gave a shit about what anyone else said. Even with me. I’d tell him I didn’t want to do something and he’d make me do it anyway. I had a fucking threesome with some girl I never met before because he forced me to. He’s just… awful and for so long I let it go because I loved him.” Taking the sleeve of her sweatshirt, she wipes her tears away. “After you were raped, he said some things that, looking back on it, should have been warning signs that he had something to do with it.”

  My throat tightens, my heart skipping a beat. That same panicked feeling I always get when the word rape is mentioned consumes me. I fidget and ask, even though I don’t want to know, “What do you mean?”

  For a minute, I don’t think she wants to tell me. “I asked him where he was that night because for an hour, his story didn’t add up. He wasn’t with Monika like he said he was and when I caught him in the lie, he blew it off. Then when I asked if he knew anything or saw you, he said he saw you with Tony and Greg by the water, but that was it. Before that, he said he never saw you the rest of the night.”

  I sigh and hold her hand tighter. “Cadence, you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

  “But I do,” she cries. “I left you when I knew I shouldn’t have. I knew better than to leave you with them in your condition. And then I thought to myself after everything happened if I’d trust Roman, drunk, alone with you, or any of my friends and the answer was always no. That’s when I should have known and spoke up sooner. But… like everyone else he manipulated, I was scared of what he’d do if I came forward and said something.”

  I think about that night a lot more than I want to, even three years later. I wonder if Asa hadn’t found Roman’s hat if he would have ever slipped and caught himself in a lie he couldn’t talk his way out of. Or would the guilt have gotten to him and he confessed? What about Tony and Greg, would they have ever admitted if Roman hadn’t ratted them out? They were minors and their lives were over before they even began. I had no doubt in my mind Roman played a way bigger role in that night than he claims to.

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you this now, after everything you went through and bringing it up again, but I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I should have been a better friend. I’m sorry the judge was a prick.”

  I reach for her and wrap my arms around her. “I shouldn’t have shut you out like I did. I guess I just clung to Asa and I’m not even sure why.”

  Cadence smiles, her bloodshot eyes focusing on mine. “I’m glad you did. He’s a great guy and you deserve each other.”

  I hadn’t realized how long we’d been talking when Asa comes through the front door, Terrell and Joey following him.

  “Oh my God, I’m starving,” Joey notes, taking a deep breath with her face next to the pizza boxes.

  Asa laughs and holds the pizza box up higher. “Didn’t you go out to dinner?”

  Joey snorts. “Yes, but I went to dinner with Terrell. He made us share a meal because it was cheaper than two meals and he ate most of it.”

  Terrell tosses his keys on the counter. “It’s ridiculous that a steak dinner would cost forty-five dollars. I can make that at home for cheaper.”

  Beside me, Cadence stands with a cautious smile on her face, her cheeks still red from crying. “I’ll get going.”

  “No, stay.” I reach for her hand, refusing to let her leave. “Have some pizza with us.”

  “I shouldn’t. You guys have your own thing going.” Her eyes drift to Terrell and Joey. “I don’t want to impose.”

  “You’re not,” Asa says, winking at her as he sets the two boxes on the counter.

  “What’s that smell?” Terrell asks, squinting his eyes at Asa. “Did you burn something again?”

  “No,” he lies, smiling. He still can’t lie without smiling.

  Terrell lectures him on oven safety and fire statistics for removing the batteries on a fire alarm. All of which Asa blows off. “I’ll put the batteries back in.” Terrell gives him a look that screams “do it now.” So he does. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  Terrell snorts and looks at the receipt from the pizza Asa picked up. “No, what’s ridiculous is that you spent forty dollars on two pizzas when this one was ten dollars. If you wouldn’t have burned it, you would have saved yourself thirty.”

  “Oh my God, leave him alone.” Joey knocks her hand against Terrell’s burly chest. “It’s his money.”

  Ignoring Terrell’s speech on our money spending, which happens daily, Asa makes his way over to me, his arms around my shoulder. He watches me for a moment and then asks, “You okay?”

  I smile. “That depends.”

  “On?”

  “If you got me a pepperoni and pineapple pizza.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I know better.” He does. And then he watches me, waiting for my real answer.

  “Cadence is just struggling with the reality of it all,” I tell him, knowing any mention of Roman will only set him off. My eyes drift to Cadence, who’s now sitting with Terrell and Joey in the kitchen, a glass of wine in her hand. I hadn’t thought about our situation in terms of a new reality for anyone but myself. Asa, Joey, Terrell, Cadence, Remy, Roman’s parents, the football team, every single person involved in that trial or who had been there for us through it, they were all affected. Now here we were, months later, still trying to adjust and it’s not going to be easy.

  I’m a firm believer now that everyone in your life plays a role. Even the villains. They might be the one testing you, and in the same sense, using you. They might love you, but then turn around and teach you a lesson in heartache. The ones who are truly important, they bring out the best in you, keep you fighting and in turn, remind you that it’s worth it to keep them in your life.

  Love is supposed to be selfless, not selfish.

  10 months later

  The Exuma Cays

  Bahamas

  “This much skin should be illegal.” I think there should be certain times in your life where you wear a bikini, and times when you shouldn’t. For me, it’s the shouldn’t. Always. It’s not that I have anything against them, it’s just for me personally, I don’t like to show that much skin anymore. It’s a fear, really, one I haven’t outgrown and at this point, I’m beginning to think I never will. But here I am, wearing a bikini and staring at myself in the full-length mirror, sweat beading on my forehead with the insane humidity suffocating me. “I don’t know about this.” I curl my hands around my waist, hiding myself. “It’s too much.”

  Joey sighs and gives me a look that says “You’re kidding.” When I don’t budge, she lays it on thick. “The trial’s over and scumbag is at least in jail still. Your boy won the Heisman Trophy this year… we’re celebrating.” She fans herself. “Holy shit, it’s fuckin’ hot here.”

  Joey’s right. We have a lot to celebrate. I just wasn’t so sure I wanted to do it half-dressed. “We can still celebrate fully clothed.”

  She puts her hand on her hip and twirls. “Girl, I’m a size fourteen… and I’m wearing a fucking bikini next to a girl who’s the size of my leg.” She stares at me with confidence. “And I’m going to rock it like I own it. Because I do, but you need to let go. You need to embrace the fact that you control your environment. They don’t.”

  I know exactly what she’s referring to. And even though I’ve gone to therapy and I’ve talked endlessly in support groups about my fears, they don’t just go away. I wish they did, but I know enough about trauma to understand it doesn’t work that way.

  But I can make an effort. I keep the bikini on and slip my dress over it. Joey does the same and reaches for her bag on the bed. I watch her, the confidence that exudes from her and I think about what it’s like to have that kind of self-worth. She doesn’t question anything, and then that gets me thinking about something that’s been bothering me for a while.

  Sex.

  Asa and I haven’t had much trouble in that department, but it’s… how do I say this right… vanilla sex? Maybe that’s
the right word. Given my history, he’s always very careful and gentle with me. Which, I appreciate, but there’s more to an intimate relationship, isn’t there? I shouldn’t be afraid to try new things.

  “Joey, can I ask you something personal?”

  She smiles. “Yeah, anything.”

  Fear pricks my skin, and suddenly it’s even hotter in this room than it was before. I have no idea how to word it, so I just blurt, “How do I give a blow job?” And then I quickly flop back on the bed and cover my face with my hands.

  Just as I suspected, Joey giggles. “Gurl, you haven’t given that poor guy a blow job yet?”

  I shake my head.

  Joey lays beside me and reaches for my hand to uncover my face. “Are you scared?”

  I twist my head to face her. “It’s the one thing I fear. I don’t know why, but I do. I even think about it and I want to throw up. Maybe it’s because of how vulnerable it leaves me. I have no idea.”

  “Honey, that’s normal. For a long time, I didn’t either. I still struggle with doggie style.”

  I giggle. Like a child.

  That gets her laughing too. And then I ask, “Why do you struggle with that position?”

  “Because that’s the position I was in. With a knife pressed to my neck and my head against a dirty toilet seat in a bar.”

  Pain hits my chest, hard. My breath expels in a gasp. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  Joey squeezes my hand. “Yes, you should have. If we’re going to be best friends, we talk about this. Everything and anything, okay?”

  I gather up the nerve to ask, “Do you do that position now?”

  She nods. “Yeah, but it wasn’t until Terrell that I was comfortable enough to do it. Now it doesn’t bother me anymore. We talked about my boundaries and he was nothing but gentle and sweet.”

  When you look at Terrell, you wouldn’t think there was a gentle bone in his body, but he’s a big teddy bear. I sit up, my lips trembling when I admit, “I don’t know why it bothers me because I don’t think it has anything to do with my attack. I think it’s a fear.”