Page 27 of Rookie Season
And then of course what happened when I came back to school this fall made that assumption even worse.
“Tell me about it,” Fisher seethes. “That guy works harder than anyone I know. Never takes a moment to have fun or let off steam or go on a date or even hook up with someone. It’s like he’s married to his damn hockey stick. And don’t get me wrong, you know I love my sport, but jeez, I have a life outside of it. And I think Downsby should, too.”
“He doesn’t…hook up?”
Fisher gives me the side eye. “That’swhat you took from my entire spiel?”
“He lives right across the hall from me,” I retort. “Good to know if I need to start wearing headphones at night.”
But even as I say this, I turn away to hide my blush. It’s not that I care who Noah does—or doesn’t—hook up with. It’s just that the way he looks at me confuses me. It’s like he tolerates me, at best, while my other two roommates seem to actually enjoy having me around. But then on the flipside of that, he’s the only one of the guys who looks at me in theway he does. In a way that makes my stomach flip every time those dark eyes rake over me.
In a way I haven’t felt since before…
“As far as I know, there’s no need for that. Noah’s been a monk for as long as I’ve lived with him, at least.” Fisher chuckles, the sound dirty. “But my and Penn’s side of the apartment, on the other hand…”
I snort and hold up a hand. “Pleasesay no more.”
He smiles at me before looking down and kicking at the sand in front of him. He’s quiet for a couple of paces before he starts, almost hesitantly, “And hey, while we’re on that topic…I’ve been trying to find the right opportunity to check in with you, but we haven’t really had any time alone until now.” He looks over at me, his usually playful green eyes etched with concern. “You holding up okay, kiddo?”
“I am, for the most part,” I tell him. Archibald Fisher is the only other person who really knows what happened that night. “Better than I was before I moved out here.”
Fisher’s mouth twists. “I’m still in some USG group chats and I—um, I heard what was being said about you when this semester started.” At his words, I close my eyes, and he quickly adds, “We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want.”
“No, we can.” I swallow. “We probablyshould.”
We stop walking and sit down on a clear patch of sand. Fisher twists his baseball cap backwards and turns to look at me. I look down at the sand, drawing patterns with my finger. “But first things first, those rumors aren’t why I left.”
Painful as it was, I could handle the whispers behind my back calling me a cheater and a slut. I could even handle all my friends turning against me, revoking my invite to live with them.
But what I couldn’t handle was Tyler Whelan being mydance partner again this semester. I couldn’t pretend everything was okay and let him smile at me…put his hands on me.
The thought alone makes me want to puke.
I breathe out slowly. “I just needed to get away from him.”
“Did you ever report what happened?” Fisher asks slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully.
“There was nothing to report.”
“Allegra.” Fisher looks me in the eye, dead serious. “That asshole assaulted you; what do you mean there was nothing to report?”
My mom was always candid with me about sex, and she has taught me about the importance of consent—and the importance of a man having full consent from you before anything happens.
I know as clearly as my own name that what was happening with Tyler when Fisher found us was not consensual.
But as terrifying as the whole situation was, nothingactuallyhappened, in terms of being report-worthy. Fisher burst into the room before Tyler did much to hurt me physically. And it’s not like he dragged me up there to that bedroom against my will to begin with.
And on top of that, it was me who kissed Tyler first.
Me who agreed to go upstairs with him, willingly taking his hand.
Me who apparently led him to think I wanted to have sex with him when we got upstairs, when all I wanted was to find a quiet place away from the party to talk to him, kiss him.
“Come on, Allegra, stop acting like you suddenly don’t want me to touch you.”
“Loosen up, already…you really think I buy you acting all frigid after a whole semester of you teasing me, dancing so close to me, moving in a way that you knew made me want you.”
“You did this to me.”
