Page 63 of Tell Me Everything
Alex tapped his finger against the window, the only sign of his anxiety. “I don't need to. I guess I need to stop trying to figure out what to say and just talk.”
“You sure you're ready to talk?”
Because I wasn't. I was touched by the fact that he wanted me to know. But was it supposed to go like this? It felt like Alex was forcing himself to open up, and I wasn't convinced that this was the best thing for him to do. He rubbed his palms over his face.
“I don't think I'll ever be ready. Lena, I can't do this anymore.”
“Do what?”
“Keep that part of me away from you. You're one of the people I care about most, and not being honest with you feels too heavy.”
So this was the moment of truth. I sat back on his bed.
“That person we ran into hurt you, didn't he?”
“He destroyed me.”
Faced with my worried look, Alex smiled. It wasn’t genuine, though. He was just trying to reassure me, as always. I had to pull myself together and be strong. He needed it.
“I'm fine now, don't worry.”
He was lying through his teeth. The pretence was over, he couldn't fool me anymore. Either Alex turned his pain into uncontrollable anger, or he drowned it with alcohol and drugs.
“I don't think you're doing as well as you want me to believe. You wouldn't have your temper not attraction to drugs if you were.”
I expected him to retort and tell me how broken I was.
Instead, he nodded. “You're right, but I'm working on it. I know it may not seem like it, but I've been to therapy for years. I've also been in talking groups. I'm really trying. I guess I just… struggle to get there.” Alex sat down on the bed and hugged a pillow. In this moment, he didn't look like an adult, but like a terrified, lost child. The child I'd once known. I'd never seen him so shaken before.
It hit me then that I knew almost nothing about him when he wasn't with me. Alex rarely talked about himself, and when he did, he only shared small anecdotes. Yet his life was just as complicated as mine was, if not more so. His hands trembled slightly. I moved towards him, but Alex moved his hands away to stay out of my reach. Without hesitation, I grabbed his wrists. Alex tried to pull away, so I tightened my grip. He looked up at me, and I held his gaze. I couldn't let him sink into his distress.And if I couldn't keep him out of it, I'd go down with him.
“You're safe. It's just me.”
“I don't know where to start.”
“You don't have to tell me anything. You know that, right?”
Alex nodded, his eyes focused on our entwined hands. “I just hope your image of me doesn't change.”
“If it changes, it will only make you more human to me.”
He took a deep breath. For the first time, Alex was unable to hold my gaze. My thumbs traced little circles on his palms, trying to comfort him.
“When I was a kid, I was in a swimming club. I didn't particularly like it at first, but as I was good at sports, my parents enrolled me in several clubs, including swimming, tennis, and soccer. Because I was smaller than others my age, they often teased me. I was also one of the best on the team, and the coach's favourite, so most of my clubmates didn't like me that much. I thought it was because I trained and did my best that our coach appreciated me so much, but I was wrong.”
My blood ran cold, my heart pounding in my temples. This couldn't be true.Please, let me be wrong.
Alex smiled sadly. “You get it, don't you?”
I swallowed.
“He abused you.”
“One day, after winning a competition, I was cornered by some of the team members. They started hitting and kicking me. I was alone and unable to defend myself. The coach heard that something was going on and intervened. He gave me first aid before taking me to the doctor. For several days, I was unable to leave the house because of injuries, but he came to see me every day to make sure I recovered quickly. My mom was so grateful to him. After all, he didn'thaveto look after me so much. At first, nobody understood what was really going on. When I went back to the club, things had changed. None of the other kids dared sayanything mean to me anymore. They were trying to be nice. The coach’s behaviour changed too. He spent more time training me personally to become better for our competitions. He gave me chocolate when my training went well. Vincent had become my best friend. One day, I don't know exactly what happened, but I found his behaviour too kind and clingy. I was uncomfortable, but I didn’t understand why. It went on for a while. A smile here, a hand on the shoulder there. It was as if he expected the same of me.”
Nausea made my head spin. How anyone could touch a defenceless child was beyond me.
“You were the victim of a sexual predator. Did he...”
