Page 54 of Saving Barrette

I’m still not sure what she meant by that, or if I ever will, but my point being, I’m at that stage. The fighting. The unable to accept this as the end. I refuse to.

“I think—”

My dad knows where my headspace is at. Crazy. And he shakes his head. “Asa, you’re not going alone. It’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive, and you just collapsed in the driveway not more than an hour ago. I’m going.”

I can’t argue with him. At this point, I’ll be lucky to get on the main road, let alone down I-5 without wrecking. “What did Les say?”

Dad grabs his coat from beside the couch and leans in to kiss Carlin. “He said Barrette needs to file a police report. A hat at the scene isn’t evidence because there’s no way to say that he was there at the time. We don’t know that. It’s a possibility, but you don’t know.”

“It was him. I know it,” I seethe.

“But you don’t have proof, Asa. The first step is her reporting it. She then needs to decide to press charges. They’ll request a DNA test from him. If he refuses, it’ll go before a judge to ask for a warrant. If the judge feels like there’s enough evidence, then they’ll issue a warrant.”

Like it or not, this wasn’t going to happen as quickly as I want because I know Roman isn’t going to willingly take a DNA test. “Then what?”

“Then it’ll be assigned to a detective and the process will start with collecting evidence, interviewing suspects, and then they’ll decide what charges will be filed.”

Adrenaline and anger pulses inside me. I want justice, and I want it right now.

“HOW DO Itell her?” I’ve never once asked my dad for advice. Ever. We’ve always been complete opposites. But now, on the edge of everything I don’t understand, I ask him.

My dad peers over at me, but then looks back at the road, his grip on the steering wheel of his truck tighter than normal. “I wouldn’t just blurt it out,” he says, his voice low and hushed. “You need to sit her down and maybe tell her about the hat and ask her what she remembers from the night.”

I look at him, and then the road. The windshield wipers are working overtime, desperately trying to clear the blanket of snow pummeling down on the roads. It looks like something out of aStar Warsmovie when they’re traveling at light speed.

My phone lights up with a message, the shocking brightness burning my eyes. I squint, trying to make out who it is. It’s Barrette.

My heart drops to my stomach as I slide my finger over the screen to read it. It’s a picture of her eating a giant turkey leg that’s bigger than her face and the words,It’s not tofu!Underneath it.

Holding the phone up, I stare at her smile, and it’s one I haven’t seen in years. My chest aches at the sight, and then I think, what the fuck am I doing? Do I need to tell her? Can’t I just pretend I don’t know and tip the police off? Maybe…. No, I stop myself. I can’t do that because if she ever found out that I knew and didn’t tell her, it’d be worse than ruining a smile.

I had no expectations on what to expect telling Barrette. I didn’t. I had fears, but no idea what she’d think, or feel, or how she’d react.

With the snow, it takes my dad and I three hours to get to Bellingham. In that time, I text Joey and test the waters. I tell her I’m coming to see Barrette and I need to talk to her. She calls me lovesick and laughs. And then, then I hit her with it.

Me: I think I know who raped her.

Joey: Asa, if you’re not completely sure, don’t tell her.

It’s then, ten minutes from Joey’s house, that the panic truly sets in. My words, my accusation could possibly send her back over the edge. Am I wrong? Do I think it’s Roman?

Yes, I do. Without a doubt, I feel that shit in my fucking bones down to my soul. He either did it, or he had a vital part in it. But the fact remains, I did not have proof aside from a goddamn hat. In the world of evidence, it’s nothing.

My hands shake and I stare at my phone. I question my sanity and my need for this to be true. It’s accurate to say, in a lot of ways, I want my theory to be correct. I want it to be Roman because finally it would, or could, mean closure for both of us. I want a face to the monster.

I look at my dad and drop my phone in my lap. “Joey thinks I shouldn’t say anything.”

He frowns. “You have to. She needs to file a police report right away, Asa. It’s imperative she does this now, regardless if you think it’s him or not.”

“But…” I choke on my words, swallowing back emotion.Suck it up, ya fucking pussy.I clear my throat and square my shoulders. “What if it’s not him?”

“Do you really believe that?”

“No.”

“Then you tell her because if she finds out you know something, and you don’t tell her, your friendship will never be the same.” Kind of like ignoring her for four years because you’re afraid of telling her you love her. You’re afraid of her waiting for you and missing out on life.

When we pull up to the house, my dad looks over at me. We sit for several minutes without talking. Darkness has taken over. The glow reflecting off the snow is orange and glistening.

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