Chapter Ten #3
Razor nodded. “After I returned from San Diego, I had to deal with my mom’s illness and her ultimate passing.
After the funeral, I had strange nightmares.
Some were about her, but most of them were about Gary.
I saw a psychologist, told her a little about what happened.
She said I was holding over residual guilt for what happened with Gary, for not telling my mom about it. ”
“You never told her?” Ashton asked, surprised.
“She wasn’t in the best shape health-wise by then. She was glad I was home, and I didn’t want to make her last days any more painful by knowing what I did.”
“That’s understandable.”
“After her funeral, I decided it was best not to return to San Diego. Nightmares started, I got help, and the nightmares stopped. But I never had panic attacks until…”
“Until now,” Ashton finished.
“I think this whole experience has dredged up some painful memories, and it’s made it hard for me to deal with them. God, I nearly took that kid’s head off.”
She jumped up and looked out the window. Ashton stood behind her and laid a supportive hand on her shoulder. “You thought your friend was in trouble.”
Razor huffed. “Not the first time I misread the situation and took the wrong action.”
Ashton turned her around and looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean?”
Razor’s eyes locked onto hers. “I don’t want you to think any less of me.”
“Razor, I won’t think any less of you. I promise. Please, talk to me.”
There was a war waging in her eyes, and Ashton was relieved when Razor sat back in the chair.
She was curious about Razor’s story, knowing Nancy didn’t have the full scope.
Of course, she wanted to help. But more importantly, she wanted to understand.
As Razor wrung her hands, Ashton took the opposite seat and waited.
“I saw Gary Newman try to rape a player.”
The matter-of-fact tone surprised Ashton, but she stayed quiet.
“I came into the locker room and caught him. I pulled him off and threatened him with charges. He just laughed and told me not to stick my nose where it didn’t belong.”
“Who was the player?”
“A first year. Someone I’d noticed Gary hanging around when the school year started.”
So far, nothing differed from Nancy’s telling, but Ashton knew it was coming.
“I tried to convince her to press charges, but she was so scared. I’d gone to Nancy and asked her to present it to the athletic director.
I didn’t hear anything for weeks. When I asked her what the holdup was, she said that unless there’s evidence, or the victim came forward herself, there wasn’t much that could be done.
The girl was shaky on whether she wanted to press charges, but I thought I was close to convincing her to move forward with the accusation, so…
I filed the charges on her behalf, hoping it’d be the final push she needed to put her name on the record. ”
“But that’s not what happened?”
Razor shook her head. “The girl didn’t come forward.” She rubbed her eyes. “Gary got away with what he did. The team found out what I’d done and ostracized me. Malcolm benched me. Gary gloated over me. It was hell. But the worst part was the guilt I left San Diego with.”
“Why do you feel guilty?”
“If I hadn’t tried to pressure this girl into doing something she obviously was too scared to do, Gary would have eventually been punished.
Instead I got impatient, and I shut down any chance of anyone else coming forward.
After seeing what I went through, why would anyone want to put themselves through that torment? ”
Ashton saw the full picture now. Razor’s panic attack. The attack on Jamie. This one event, this one decision, to try to do good, was the catalyst for it all.
“I understand why you did what you did. Your intentions were noble,” Ashton assured her. “You understand that assault and abuse cases are hard to prove without hard evidence or witnesses, and you tried to help a friend. I can’t fault you for that.”
“Thank you,” Razor said on a deep sigh. “I appreciate that.”
Ashton gave a tight smile. “I know your character, Razor. You’ve always been one to look out for others before you look out for yourself. And while I understand your motives, I ask that you give me time to accept this latest discovery.”
“Why?” Razor asked, genuinely confused.
“As a psychologist, I’m nonobjective and offer support.
But as someone who is also your coach, teacher, and…
friend, I need time to process this new information.
I said I understand the reason behind your actions, and I do.
But knowing you took such a drastic action in the first place, it’s a lot to grasp. ”
Razor’s lips rolled into a thin line, and she nodded. “I can accept that.”
She stood and walked toward the door, sidestepping Ashton with a light shoulder brush. Ashton closed her eyes, expecting to feel the same tingling sensation she got whenever they touched. Instead, she felt sad and confused.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Razor turned and handed her a small pin with a heart on it.
“What’s this?”
Razor shrugged. “It’s a thank you for coming with us tonight. For helping me through my panic attack, and…I guess for this, now.” She gestured between them.
Ashton smiled and took the token for what it was. A symbol of trust. Razor trusted her. Ashton hoped she could do the same.