I sighed, knowing in advance that he was going to ask that question. Honestly, it had surprised me that Brody took the news better than Colin did, simply because Brody had a temper on him.
"You remember when Colin fractured bones in his hand?" I asked.
My best friend smiled in response, and I knew that he remembered.
"That's what he did to himself the night that I told him," I said.
Brody burst into a fit of laughter, clutching at his sides as he yelped loudly, overcome with chortles. He turned red and tears streamed down his face as he laughed even harder. He grabbed onto the table, turning redder and laughing harder, only stopping when he needed to take another breath.
"Wow!" he exclaimed, still laughing. "And all you got out of me was a pile of broken dishes!"
He continued to laugh until I gave him a stern look. He took a few large gulps of air, wiping the tears away from his eyes and walking over to the sink to pour himself a glass of water.
When he'd finally calmed down, he looked at me with such a serious expression on his face, taking a gulp of water.
"I'll replace those dishes, I promise," he replied, then burst into another outrageous fit of laughter.
Thirty One.
The entire week came and went, and with each day that passed, I got progressively more nervous about Friday. I found myself avoiding my parents as much as possible, even if it meant that I'd be grounded or yelled at, just because I didn't want them to ask any questions before Friday came. I'd asked Hanna to pull me out of school early so that I could head over to the community center and mentally prepare myself for what I was about to do. Thankfully, she didn't ask any questions about the invitation I'd dropped off in her mailbox early on in the week.
Behind the stage, I paced back and forth, waiting for Colin to return with the cup of water I'd asked him for. I was beyond nervous, and I was sure that my family and friends had started arriving already. My hands were shaking and my knees were weak as I tried to talk myself out of my nerves.
There was a faint knock on the door, and when I opened it, Colin stood before me, looking almost as nervous as I felt.
"Here you go, baby," he said, handing me the cup of water and lacing his arm around my waist. He led me to a chair, forcing me to sit before he walked around behind me and started massaging my shoulders. I closed my eyes as his fingers worked through the kinks and knots on my shoulders and the back of my neck. "Just breathe. I know this is hard for you, but when you feel like you can't do this, just look out into the room. The people there, you love those people. Those are the people that love you, and who will still love you after today."
I nodded softly.
"Thank you," I whispered, my breath catching in my throat. I placed my hand over one of his on my shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "Come here. I want to see you." He was in front of me then, dropping to his knees before me so that we were on the same level, and our eyes aligned perfectly. He placed his hands on my thighs, his brilliant green eyes boring into my brown ones. "I want you, Michele, and Brody in the front. I need you three front and center."
He didn't ask why, he didn't ask me to explain myself. Instead, he leaned forward, one of his hands moving from my thigh to the nape of my neck, pulling me close and then meeting me halfway with a sweet, yearning kiss, full of hunger and need. I responded with equal enthusiasm, one of my hands splayed across his chest and the other finding a tuft of his hair to hold onto as I leaned my head back and he deepened the kiss. His tongue never asked entrance to my mouth; our mouths just moved together as one, neither of us parting our lips or teasing each other like we normally did, but we kissed--oh, we kissed, as though our souls were saying to each other, "There you are. I've been waiting for you for what seems like forever."
He pulled away only slightly, his facial expression an odd mixture of devotion and confusion, as though he were wondering whether he should let me go or if he needed another kiss just like that one, another kiss filled with a yearning that neither of us could ever hope to explain.
"I'd better go out there," Colin said finally, after nearly five minutes of silence. He took both of my hands in one of his as he stood up, pulling me to my feet simultaneously. "I love you, Nickayla Quinn. You can do this."
I nodded, and he led me to the spot where I had to stand while Elizabeth introduced me. He placed his hand at the nape of my neck once more, pulling me in as he planted a kiss on the top of my head.
He walked away, but it felt like it was a moment too soon. I wasn't ready for him to be gone, not yet. God, not yet. I still needed him.
"I'd like to welcome you to the Heart of a Warrior Support Group," Elizabeth said, her voice ringing loud and clear. "There are fifteen of us here, and we convene every week. Today, we've gathered in support of Nickayla Quinn. She's one of our youngest, but she's also one of our strongest. Just over the course of the past month, I've watched her grow and blossom more than any other person who's come through here. I'm incredibly proud of her, and I look forward to watching her strength and kindness grow even further, and I'm sure that you'll all agree with me that after today, it definitely will."
I inhaled deeply, holding the piece of paper rolled up in my hands as I stepped forward from behind the curtain and approached Elizabeth at the lectern. She took both of my hands and pulled me into a warm embrace before stepping away and descending the stairs at the end of the stage.
My eyes roamed around the small room, and I found everyone that I loved. Brody, Michele, and Colin sat in the front row, front and center, beaming up at me with wide smiles on their faces, showing nothing but support. The other fourteen people in my support group sat right behind them, and their friendly smiles greeted me from below. Nathan and Hanna sat in the center of the room, a few rows from the back, holding hands with Naomi. Nikky and Sarah were watching me intently, and I could see all the questions burning in my twin brother's eyes. Ben and Taylor sat with my mom, and at the end of their row was Kyle, staring at me with wide, sober eyes that I hadn't recalled seeing a single time since last year.
"My name is Nickayla Quinn," I said, reading from my piece of paper, looking up to meet the eyes of all the people that I'd invited. "I have a story to tell."
My voice shook and broke, and my hands were overcome with tremors. I blinked, and all the unshed tears fell slowly and all at once. My eyes blurred from the tears spilling over and I dropped the piece of paper as I blinked again.
My eyes found Colin's, and I gave a small, imperceptible shake of my head.
He patted Michie's knee and stood up, walking to the edge of the stage as confused murmurs emerged from all over the room. He stood at the edge of the stage and waved me over, and with one, two, three, four, five shaky steps, I met him there, kneeling in front of him, my hands splayed across my knees.
The stage was short, so on my knees, I was eye level with him as he stood. His hand reached behind my neck and he pulled my forehead to his.
"I don't know if I can do this, Colin," I whispered, a small sob escaping my lightly parted lips. "All these people--"
"All these people are here for you," he whispered back to me. "They're here to hear your story and to support you. They're here because they love you." I shook my head against his and he gave me a quick pop kiss. "Baby, you can do this. Just follow me as I walk away. When you get scared, look at me. You can do this, Nickayla."
I nodded, standing up and following his retreating figure with my eyes as he took his seat once more. I met his eyes, and he nodded to me, mouthing the words, "Go ahead."
I approached the lectern and closed my eyes as I breathed deeply. I regained my composure, organizing my scattered thoughts.
"My name is Nickayla Quinn, and I have a story to tell," I said, repeating what I'd said before. "According to the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network, forty-four percent of rape victims are under the age of eighteen. Every two minutes, another American is sexually assaulted. Ninety-seven percent of rapists will never spend a day
in jail." Before I read the next part of what was typed out onto my paper, I looked away from Colin and found Kyle, looking directly into his eyes unblinkingly. "Approximately two thirds of assaults are committed by someone known to the victim. Thirty-eight percent of rapists are a friend or acquaintance." I cleared my throat before continuing. "A year is 525,600 minutes," I said. "A year is 8,765.81 hours. A year is 365 days." I paused, looking at the faces of my friends and family. "To many of you, those are just irrelevant numbers, and maybe they were to me too, once upon a time." I sighed, turning my paper over and looking down at what I'd written. "But now, for me, 525,600 minutes represents so much more. Now, 525,600 minutes is the amount of minutes that have passed--give or take a few--from the night that my life changed forever. Now, for me, 525,600 minutes is the amount of minutes that have passed--give or take a few--from the night that my trust was betrayed. Now, for me, 525,600 minutes is the amount of minutes that have passed--give or take a few--from the night that I was raped."
I stepped from behind the lectern, walking back and forth across the small stage, trying to ignore the whispers of my loved ones.
"He was someone that I knew," I said. "He was someone that I trusted. He was someone that I loved. He was my best friend." I looked out across the room and found my mother's face, buried in my father's shirt as she cried. My brothers' faces were a mixture of anger and disgust, and everyone else just looked flat out confused. "525,600 minutes is the amount of minutes I've spent blaming myself for what happened. It's the amount of minutes I've spent trying to figure out what I'd done so incredibly wrong that I could possibly deserve a betrayal so intense, a pain so brutal. It's the amount of minutes I've spent crying at the drop of a dime, unable to tell anyone what hurt me, and thinking that the pain was too unbearable to live with." My own tears were falling then, and I shakily waved Colin over, knowing that I needed him to help me continue. Wordlessly, he stood up, climbing the stairs in seemingly a single bound, and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
"I was scared of what people would think," I said. "I loved Kyle." I watched his head snap up at the mention of his name, and I watched my brothers turn to face him, the expressions on their faces lethal. "I loved him, and I was afraid that that love was part of the reason no one would believe me. I never actually told him no, and I was afraid that that meant I'd given him permission to do what he did to me."
I wiped my tears away furiously.
"It took me 525,600 minutes to figure out that it's the people that supposedly love you that can hurt you the worst." I looked directly at Kyle, then. "It took me 525,600 minutes to figure out that the absence of a 'no' does not equate to the presence of a 'yes'." I smiled at Colin dearly. "It took me 525,600 minutes to break free of that pain. It took me 525,600 minutes, and one boy who loves me more than anyone ever could, to help me let go. It took me 525,600 minutes, and two best friends who've supported me no matter what, to help me move on. It took me 525,600 minutes and three adoring siblings who never asked why but cared for me through my depression to want to open up. It took me 525,600 minutes to get here. I hope to God that I never have to come back."
I paused, taking Colin's hand as he escorted me away from the lectern and I smiled at everyone who had been there for me. Within seconds, the entire room--small as it was--erupted in applause, shouts of support, and even a few sobs. These people loved me, and these people would forgive me for keeping such a huge secret from them. I hadn't believed before that it was possible, but they were proving it to me right at that moment.
I found my mother, kneeling in front of her and taking her shaking hands away from my dad's. I wrapped her in a hug as she cried, unsure of what else I should do.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Mommy," I said.
She shook her head and pulled away from me, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
"No, I'm sorry, mija," she said. "You're so strong and so brave, Nickayla. I'm so proud of you."
I hugged her again tightly, standing up and giving my daddy a kiss on the head. When I pulled away, I could see that everyone was making their way out of the double doors and into the landing area, but I just wanted to see Colin.
I found him quickly, and when I did, he wrapped an arm around my waist as he led me out to where everyone else was heading. All that I wanted was to go home and take a hot shower, then take a long nap. I was mentally and physically exhausted from worrying so much.
He held the door open for me, and the minute we were outside, I was ambushed by a bunch of my loved ones. It was a massive blur of hugs and 'I'm sorry' and 'I'm so proud of you' and 'you're so brave's. I lost track of the people that I'd hugged and talked to and thanked for being there for me that day. I was just glad to have it all out of my system and off my chest.
I was waving goodbye, ready for my parents to take me home--I'd decided that I needed to talk to them about what happened more than I needed to be with Colin immediately afterward--when I heard a loud commotion taking place. I hadn't been around violence much in my life, but there was no mistaking the sound of flesh hitting flesh over and over again, mixed with the sounds of people yelling.
I wrenched myself through the crowded mess of people, trying to make my way toward the problem rather than away from it. I needed to see what was going on, and furthermore, I needed to stop it before things escalated too far too soon.
"Move!" I yelled, trying to make my way toward what I'd realized were my brothers' angry figures. "Move! Get out of the way!"
I found the center of the commotion, watching as Kyle was attacked with punches and kicks. I expected him to be fighting back, but instead, he just lay there, taking every blow that my brothers, and by then, Brody as well, dished out to him. He was taking every hit like a champion, but it only took me watching for a couple minutes for me to figure out that I didn't want to see Kyle get hurt.
He'd hurt me, but I wasn't beyond repair. If I didn't stop them, they'd damn near kill him, and what exactly would that do? How would that fix the damage that was already done? All that it would do was get them in trouble and hurt Kyle, and as much as he'd hurt me, I didn't want that by any means.
"Stop it!" I screamed, grabbing for Nikkolas's shirt as he aimed a kick to Kyle's ribs. "Enough! STOP!" I turned around, frantic, searching for someone to help me pull them off of them. I found Colin in the massive crowd of people, and I could see in his eyes the same thing that I was feeling. This was wrong. "Colin! HELP ME! PLEASE!"
He shoved his way through the group of people and pulled Nikkolas off Kyle single-handedly. I knew, however, that he would be unsuccessful in getting Nathan and Brody to stop. Kyle was still being beaten, still taking every punch, and there was no way that the two of us were going to break the entire thing up by ourselves.
My dad was beside us then, grabbing Nathan by the back of his shirt and pushing him up against the wall, holding him back. Colin had Nikkolas successfully detained, and all that was left was Brody. I tried to grab him by his shirt, but he simply shrugged me off and kept on swinging. I tried in vain to grab him again, before realizing that the only way to stop him was to hit him myself. Although my hand was still in pain from punching Kyle last weekend, I reared it back and punched the side of Brody's face with all the strength that I could possibly muster in my tiny body.
"Stop hitting him, you fucking Neanderthal!" I yelled, grabbing Brody and pushing him away. One of the security guards had made their way to us and had Brody detained--although he stared at me in pure bewilderment--as I crouched down beside Kyle. I glared at my brothers angrily. "I didn't invite him here so that you could kill him!"
I extended my hands, intending to help Kyle up, but he refused my hand and struggled to his feet himself.
"I'm fine," he said, wincing.
I nodded, taking his elbow and leading him to an empty hallway. As much as I'd spent the better part of the past year hating him, I needed to make sure that he was okay. At one point in time, he was my best friend, and I'd cared about him deeply. That didn'
t just go away overnight.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I would have had security escort you out if I knew that they'd react that way."
Kyle chuckled darkly, rubbing his jaw with his thumb and forefinger.
"You knew they'd react that way," he replied sadly. "It's not like I didn't deserve it."
I nodded, and I was going to walk away, but he took my hand and pulled me back toward him. I was afraid that he'd hurt me again, but I didn't see anything but sadness and remorse in his eyes when I looked into them.
"I honestly didn't know that I'd hurt you so badly," Kyle said, honestly, his voice laced with some emotion that I was unfamiliar with, especially from him. "I guess...maybe I've been drinking so much lately, I just blocked out all the terrible things I've done. I remembered that night a Hell of a lot differently than you did and if I'd known...I must have said and done some terrible things to you, Nickayla."
Tears filled my eyes as I nodded, unable to speak.
"You gave me bruises on Saturday," I said, pushing the sleeves of my shirt up so that he could see the yellowing bruises that were fading from our last interaction with each other. "You really need to stop drinking Kyle. I'm not going to lie to you...no matter what you do, we can never be friends again. But if you go to rehab and stop drinking, maybe I could at least stop being afraid of you."
Kyle seemed to ponder that for a moment before nodding slowly. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall behind him.
"Nickayla, are you going to press charges against me for what I did?" he asked.
I shook my head no.
I was sure that my parents would disagree with me on that, but I was more than set in my decision. I didn't want to ruin Kyle's life. I'd decided a long time ago that I wasn't going to press charges against him, and no one was going to make me change my mind.
"No, I'm not," I said. "I know you've got some football scholarships lined up, and I know you're planning on going out of town for college. It's not my intention to ruin your life, Kyle."
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