Page 69 of Rookie Season
And as much as I don’t want to utter a word of what I’m about to say aloud, I know it’s the right thing to do.
“This is the first time I’ve been physical, in any way, with someone in months,” I start hesitantly, my eyes searching his face for a reaction as I speak.
He bites his lip. “Me too,” he admits. “I haven’t been with anyone in a while, actually—I’ve been focused on hockey. In college, whenever I was with anyone, there were no feelings involved. Not like… It was never like this. I have feelings for you. I care for you, Ally.”
My brain is roaring, swirling like the ocean with crashing waves of conflicting feelings: Jealousy, at the thought of Noah even touching another girl, even without feelings involved. Elation, at him feeling about me exactly how I feel about him. And terror, in case any of what I’m about to say changes his mind about those feelings.
“I…I…something happened to me,” I say in a rush. “At a party last semester at USG.”
His face slackens, and I feel that disgusting shame course through me as Noah stares at me, wordless, for a few moments that seem to stretch into an eternity, before he screws his eyes shut and takes a deep breath.
“What happened?” He asks evenly, his voice cracking over the words like it’s taking everything in his power to stay composed.
“I was at a party off campus with a guy—my dance partner at the time, actually.” I ball my fists, digging my fingernails into my palms. “He told me he’d broken up with his girlfriend. That he’d done it because he liked me. He was into me. And I…I liked him a lot. So I believed him. We went upstairs and started kissing—” I force my voice to stay steady “—and then he wouldn’t stop. The party was at Fisher's house. He heard me pleading with the guy to stop, came in and pulled him off me.” The words taste bitter in my mouth. “He got there at the right time. Nothing too bad happened, thanks to him. It’s kind of how I know Fisher, how we became friends. He was there for me when I needed someone to turn to. He's the only person who knows what happened that night.” I look at Noah. “Until now.”
“What the hell,” Noah says, more to himself than to me it seems. His expression is livid. “Did you call the cops? Get the guy arrested?”
I hang my head.
“For what?” I ask softly, biting the inside of my cheek as I add, “It was partially my fault.”
“Stop.” Noah’s word is quiet, yet forceful. Commanding. He puts his fingers under my chin and tilts my head so I’m looking at him. “Let’s get one thing straight, right here, right now, Ally. This wasnotyour fault. In any way.”
“I swear I thought he just wanted to get away from the noise of the party so we could kiss and talk in private, but the fact is, I willingly went upstairs with him. Willingly kissed him.”
“But he didn’t stop when you asked him to,” Noah says, his voice barely a knife’s edge above a whisper.
“No.”
Noah swallows, the motion appearing painful for him. “And if Fisher hadn’t intervened when he did, do you thinkthis guy would have forced himself on you?” he spits out, like he can barely stand to entertain the possibility.
Flashes of icy eyes resurge in my mind. Of hot hands fumbling at the button on my jeans, of disgusting things being hissed in my ear as I cried and tried to push him off me.
Bile collects in my throat as I look down at my wrists, remembering the rings of purple bruises that dotted them in the days after.
“Yes, I think he would have,” I admit—the first time I’ve spoken this aloud, admitted it to myself or to anyone else.
Noah’s eyes flash, but his voice is so kind I want to cry. “Then you need to hear me when I say that this was, and is, in no way your fault. In the least. Period.”
I nod slowly, letting his words wash over me. Sink into my skin and my soul.
“Thank you, Noah.” My whole body relaxes as what I already knew as head knowledge also becomes heart knowledge. “I…think I needed to hear that.”
“Wait…is this why you stopped dancing?” He asks suddenly, horror crossing his features.
I nod. “I tried to keep it going. I really did. Carried on practicing all summer. But then, this semester, the rumors started, saying I was a slut and two-faced. Turns out he never broke up with his girlfriend, but he had been planning to cheat on her—with me. He told his girlfriend that Ishamelessly threw myself at him that night and tried to drunkenly seduce him. Then she told everyone that story, my friends included. I’d lost all credibility, so I didn’t argue. Didn’t bother trying to tell the truth. It was his word against mine, and they all clearly already believed the narrative they’d heard.”
A sob catches in my throat. “And I tried to be okay withthat, with being outcast from all of my friends and social groups, labeled a bitch and a whore. I could live with that, because even though it was hard,Iknew the truth about what happened that night. But then he transferred into another one of my dance classes a few weeks later and requested to be my partner again, and the teacher agreed to pair us together…and I couldn’t bear the look in his eyes, like he was holding something over me. I couldn’t stand to have him touch me, even in a professional dance setting. So I ran. Dropped out and got as far away from it all as I could. Which might have been impulsive, but I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“What he did to you is despicable,” Noah seethes quietly. “Reprehensible. And you are not to blame for any of it.”
And with that, he puts his arms around me and oh-so-gently pulls me towards him. I slump into his chest, suddenly exhausted and eager to just be held by him. My tears stain his shirt, but he keeps me close, nuzzling his nose into the top of my hair as he whispers, “I promise I’ll never do anything to hurt you.” He pauses. “No, Iswearit. You’re safe with me, always.”
“I believe you,” I reply, my hands tightening around him.
Noah pulls away from our embrace and reaches out to stroke my face in the most tender, intimate motion I’ve ever experienced. And then, he peels back the covers of my bed and tucks me in, kissing me on the forehead as he does so.
“Don’t go,” I find myself whispering.
