Page 45 of Foul & Fake
Rocket Science
RILEY
With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I’m grateful Elias hasn’t asked me to go anywhere with his friends or family. I hate this holiday because I understand the true history behind it, and I don’t think bringing genocide and disease to a peaceful group of people is something to celebrate at all.
I’m also nearly done with my article, I just have a few things to wrap up first.
One of those things is Samira.
“Hey, can we talk?” I ask, locking our dorm room door. It won’t keep Elias out since he has a key, but at least it’ll give me warning if he comes over unannounced. “I need to tell you something.”
“That doesn’t sound good. Did that asshole get you pregnant?”
Panic flashes in her eyes for me, so I shake my head quickly. I’ve been extremely careful with my birth control ever since the condoms started breaking. “No, no. Nothing like that. It’s worse, actually.” Frowning, I sit down on my bed and face her. “I just need to know that no matter what I say, you keep it between us. Don’t say anything to anyone, don’t change the way you actaround them, nothing. I have a plan, it's just going to take a bit to get to.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, but she nods. “Yeah, okay. I promise.”
“The day I met him, I was in here having some… me time. He somehow got a copy of our key and let himself in with no warning, camera in hand. He only caught a couple of seconds on video but it was enough that he saw all of me.”
“Ew,” she interrupts. “Fucking weirdo.”
Mmhm.
“He used it to blackmail me into pretending to be his girlfriend so he could get out of hazing. I kind of forgot about it for a while, thinking things were going well and he wouldn’t use it, but then he got pissed I wouldn’t fuck him so he blackmailed me again.”
The look of horror on her face pretty much sums up how I should feel about all of this, but I still have mixed emotions. It makes no sense. “I have a plan to get him back, but I kind of need your permission first.”
“Get him back?” she whispers sharply. “You mean by getting him arrested? Because blackmailing someone for sex is fucking assault. God, I hate men.”
Maybe I should hate him, but I don’t. Maybe I should have him arrested, but I won’t. “I wrote an article about the hazing,” I admit. “Exposing all of it. The fucked up things they do, the tradition, the people that are hurt by it.”
“Oh.” It seems to click for her why I need her permission and she shifts slightly. “So my team could get fucked over here too,” she contemplates. “Did you use names?”
“Yep. Just the guys, not the girls, but it won’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.”
Her gaze drops to her nails for a moment. “I don’t think I have the right to tell you not to. I mean you were basically raped, you should be allowed to retaliate how ever you need to.”
My stomach squirms uncomfortably. “I don’t… that’s not what it was. It’s more complicated than that at least, but I don’t know. If I turn this article in, I can’t take it back.”
“Am I the only thing holding you back?”
Oh, how I wish I could say yes. “Not exactly.”
Suddenly, she’s gripping my hand tightly. “You do whatever you have to do, but do not make excuses for that man. Us making excuses for men is why the patriarchy still exists today. Half of them aren’t strong enough to face the consequences of their actions and women have taken it upon themselves to soften the blow. It’s got to stop someday.”
This would be a lot easier if I believed he’d actually do it. Yes, he’s a little crazy. Yes, he’s controlling. But he hasn’t actually made me do a single thing I didn’t want to do. Even the last time he threatened me, I was wet and trying to gaslight myself into believing I didn’t want it. “I… Sam, I think I like him.”
She groans, falling back on my bed to stare up at the ceiling. “That… sucks.” I’m surprised when she laughs softly. “Really, I’m sorry. Why do we always want what’s bad for us?”
She pats the bed for me to lay back too so I slump over and join her. “Good question. If we ever figure it out, we’ll have the patriarchy dismantled by lunch. This shit is so convoluted it makes me want to scream, though. We’re dating but we’re not dating, he’s blackmailing me but I don’t believe him, we have a break up date I’m questioning, and now I wrote an article that could get him and all his teammates suspended and it’s just sitting on my computer like a loaded gun. Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Suspended and the rest of the season cancelled. No postseason for them,” she singsongs. “Shit, actually I think ourseason might be fucked too because we’ve honestly went harder than them this year. Did you hear Lucy cut Vito’s hair?”
Smirking, I turn to look at her. “It was my idea, actually. So I’ll probably get fucked in this whole thing too, but I don’t know. I can’t beat him up so this seems like my only option.”
“You can absolutely beat him up. I’d help, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s into that shit.”
“He’s a lot stronger than he looks,” I admit. “Like… a lot stronger. Crazy strong. He’d probably just laugh if I hit him.”
