Chapter 9
T he worn aluminum of the bleachers heats beneath me as I watch the Friday night high school football game.
Delilah is bunched up next to me under an old blanket and we're sharing a hot apple cider. Gaggles of girls flit around hordes of boys in a torrent of teenage hormones. It’s like watching a nature documentary.
Raucous cheering reaches a fever pitch as the home team scores a touchdown. Heckling raises the hairs on the back of my neck, and I home in on a group of teens teasing a mortified girl. My chest tightens as she gathers up her things and jogs down the bleacher steps towards the exit.
Memories assault me as the poor girl flee the stands, and I'm transported back to high school.
Lilah and I had always been bullied because of our home life.
Being “those Tate girls” automatically cemented us at the bottom of the social food chain.
Living in a run-down trailer with alcoholic parents will do that to a kid.
We never had new clothes or nice shoes, forced to shared school supplies.
We were lucky to get a ninety second shower after gym class because it was our only guaranteed opportunity to bathe.
At lunch we’d sit in the back of the cafeteria and share whatever we scrounged up from home—or what Olivia and Connor “brought too much of.”
I think I could’ve skated through high school if it weren’t for the hell I went through my sophomore year. A visceral pain lances through me at the thought. As much as I’ve tried to forget the pain I suffered, I never will. Some cuts are too deep to ever fully heal.
Instead, I’ve spent a decade pretending to be unaffected but became increasingly difficult to stay in Swiftwater as the years passed.
I was twenty-one when I filled a duffle bag of all my worldly possessions, kissed Delilah, and hitched a ride down the Rockies to Denver.
I stayed at a women’s shelter until I could afford to rent a tiny room in an old house-turned-apartments with communal living space and one small, shared bathroom.
I always had to keep my door locked so no one stole my shit, but it was my space, and no one there knew my reputation.
It was freeing to be just another nameless face in a big metropolitan city.
I hacked it with part-time jobs and bounced checks, but being broke and lonely caught up with me and Delilah convinced me to come home. I’m done running from my ghosts.
Another touchdown and the subsequent cheers wrench me back to the present. I blink several times to clear the fog of memories from my eyes. I lean into Lilah and give her hand a squeeze. She kisses my cheek and rests her head on my shoulder. Moments like this are why I'm glad I moved back home.
At half time, Lilah and I go arm in arm to the concessions stand to order another hot cider. We aren’t in the dead of winter yet, but October evenings in the mountains aren’t exactly comfortable. I’m freezing.
Lilah stops to order our drink, and I head for the restroom. As I round the corner, I stop dead in my tracks at the sight before me.
Reid is here. I don’t know why that surprises me considering he was high school football.
Beside him is a woman Reid’s age looking at him with disgust. By her body language and the expression on Reid’s face, she isn’t saying anything nice.
I can’t hear her, but whatever she says makes Reid jerk back.
She flips her hair in his face and walks away.
I’m rooted to the spot, so when he looks up from his feet, his eyes land right on me.
Before he can run away, I’m walking toward him. I immediately smell the alcohol on him. Growing up with parents like mine gave me an uncanny ability to smell even the faintest hints of booze. His appearance doesn’t give away his inebriation—he's not disheveled at all.
He's wearing his stripper uniform of Wranglers, with a ball cap obscuring his face.
“Someone from your fan club? Because you’re so likeable.” I’m trying to be funny, but it’s crystal clear I’ve made a grave error.
He attacks like a cornered animal. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Tate. We ain’t at work so why don’t you get the fuck out of my face.”
I'm stunned by his vitriol and open my mouth to apologize when he continues. “You think it’s easy for me to be out in public, looking like this ?” he says, wildly gesturing at his face.
Embarrassment heats my body from the scene we're undoubtedly causing. I’m not even sure he notices, he must be halfway to drunk if he’s not already knocking on its door. I thought the week had gone well, but it looks like we aren’t going to become besties tonight.
“Why don’t you go find whoever’s dick you were about to suck.”
I rear back like he slapped me. My eyes are so wide the cold wind makes them water. I suspected he'd heard the rumors about me from how he treated me at the banquet. But now knowing without a doubt that he heard, and believed them, crushes me.
I have to take control of the situation. We're drawing a crowd, the eyes on me like ants crawling under my skin.
I move in closer to him and lower my voice for only him to hear.
“What did you just say to me?” Before he can respond, I clarify.
“We may not be at the office right now, but you’re my direct superior and that was sexual harassment.
How dare you say that to me?” I poke him in the chest to punctuate each word, “You. Do. Not. Know. Me.”
He finally notices the pulsing energy of our audience. If anyone is more aware of unwanted attention than me, it’s Reid.
His nostrils flare and he ducks his head to speak closer to me. “I shouldn’t have said that, but can we be done here?” He motions his head towards the exit.
As he turns to bolt, I grab onto the front of his jacket and hold him in place.
I look at him, straight in his eyes, the pain swirling in them surely mirrors my own.
I make a show of deliberately scanning every inch of his face, taking in every minute detail, making him squirm in my grasp.
His burly chest rises and falls beneath my fist, his agitation growing.
Quietly, but clearly, I say, “You have no right to treat another human being the way you treat me. Just because you’re hurt doesn’t mean you can hurt other people.
I’m not blind, just like you aren’t deaf.
I think we both know bits and pieces about what happened to each other.
But I can assure you, you have no idea how wrong you are. ”
Reality must be slowly permeating his alcohol-soaked brain because remorse softens his face. The spectacle we’ve made spurs him to end this interaction as quickly as possible. He tries to backtrack, “Isabelle…”
I cut him off. “No.” There's no questioning my tone. I pointedly look from his eyes to his scarred cheek, back to his eyes.
“We all have scars. Some of us wear them on the inside.”
As tears sting my eyes and emotion chokes my throat, I push off his chest and disappear into the ladies restroom. I lock myself in a stall and will the tears not to fall.
Fuck him. Fuck these people. Fuck this town. Fuck my life! I was bitch-slapped with irrefutable proof that I'll never be able to move on from my reputation. My life was ruined because one pathetic excuse for a human took something from me that I'll never get back.
Familiar pointless questions roar in my ears.
Why did I fall for his charade at prom? Why did I go to the party with him?
Why did I let him lock me in the bedroom?
Why did I let him touch me? Why didn’t I tell an adult what happened?
Why did I go along with the rumors? Why did I nail myself in the coffin my body was forced into when he touched me?
“Izzy?” Delilah’s sweet voice cuts through my self-hatred.
I flush the unused toilet and exit the stall. I plaster on a happy face and say, “Sorry, there was a line, I didn’t mean to take so long.”
“It’s ok,” Lilah replies. Her knowing eyes take full inventory of my face and body language, but she says nothing.
She simply places a steaming cup of cider in one of my hands, takes me by the other, and leads me back to the bleachers.
She is my reason. I'll be strong for her because I promised we’d get through this life together.
I don’t bother looking around for Reid. He incinerated the line of civility between us. But I'm better than him, and I'll prove it to him every day. I refuse to show him how he hurt me or got under my skin.
This job is going to change Lilah’s and my life, and I won’t let him take that from me. Determination seeps into my bones. I snuggle up to my sister beneath the blanket and we settle in to watch the rest of the football game.