The Glass Secret (Chain of Secrets), page 21
Oh Lord, Storm! Stop, he’s trying to understand me.
“No, he’s trying to get in your pants.”
I ignored Storm’s unsolicited comment.
Jordan’s voice drew me back into our conversation. “Hey, no disrespect, but being a little freak behind closed doors is good if you catch my drift.”
“I’m going to kick your drift,” Storm yelled.
“No, not really.” I glowered at Jordan. Poor Jordan, if only he knew how much trouble Storm could have caused him, maybe he wouldn’t have behaved so badly. At the time, it didn’t seem fair that we had to have Storm’s watchful eyes peering over our shoulders.
“I just thought—you know, if you become my girl and all—well, I am a patient man. Nothing will ever happen until you’re ready. I know you’re not like Tracy. She’s a slut.”
“The only patient you will be is one in a hospital when I’m done with you,” Storm roared.
“Ouch. That’s not very nice,” I scolded Jordan.
“She’s the one who’s acting like a bitch. Do you know she’s spreading all kinds of lies about me,” he argued, nostrils flaring, and his eyes narrowed to small slits.
Storm fumed, “That’s because she wouldn’t—”
I interrupted him. I can’t hear you, Storm. So butt out!
“He’s lying. Tracy is hurting because of this creep.”
“Stop, I don’t care,” I yelped out loud, quickly covering my mouth. Too late the words spilled out.
“Wow. I thought you liked me and would be on my side.” Jordan pushed up to leave.
“No, it’s my—yes, I do like you. I don’t care what she says. I am sure she is lying as you say.” My voice quivered as I motioned for him to sit back down.
“Are you sure? You don’t sound convincing to me.”
I placed my hand over Jordan’s hand. “The truth will come out if she is lying. I promise,” I said, reassuring him.
“I’m no angel, Brie,” Jordan said, frowning.
“That’s an understatement,” Storm butted in for the umpteenth time.
“Who is?” I said pointedly, hoping Storm would get the hidden message. “Are there really such things as angels, anyway?”
“Compared to him I am a god!” Storm bellowed so loudly it caused my brain to shake.
A god...of what Storm? Earthworms? I laughed inwardly.
“No way. Angels are for losers. They’re a joke.” Jordan cracked up laughing, flapping his arms like wings.
I felt a little pang in my stomach, sickened by his lack of spiritualism.
“You won’t be laughing when one carries your ass to the dark side.”
“Well, I would like to believe they are real...but who knows, right?” I said, despite how much I liked Jordan and wanted him to like me, but I couldn’t deny my faith.
“That’s cool, believe in angels if you want to. I have bigger issues right now. All I know is—what Tracy is saying is bullshit!”
“It will all blow over I am sure. Most rumors do,” I said emphatically.
“I hope so—and if you have any pull with angels tell them that this bitch is lying her ass off!”
“About what Jordan?” I hesitantly asked.
“It doesn’t matter...just tell your angels to make this whore vanish.”
“He’s hiding something.”
Shut up Storm, he’s confiding in me.
“Whatever is going on with Tracy it’s going to be okay Jordan. I will talk to my angel for you.” I couldn’t believe I just blurted that out. I held my breath, fearing what Jordan would say.
“That’s kind of weird Brielle, but damn, I like your cuteness.”
“I really like you, too.” I lowered my eyelashes, blushing and swallowed hard. Jordan hugged me tenderly.
“What...I didn’t know you liked monsters.”
Quiet...honestly, Storm. He’s hurting.
I heard a heavy breath escape from Storm’s lungs, if that’s what they were. I couldn’t help but think that he had gills instead of lungs.
“Really? I didn’t think you liked me at all,” Jordan said pointedly, much to my surprise.
“Why would you say that?” I asked, peeling away from his embrace.
“Because I’ve asked you to go to the prom with me and you still haven’t answered—forget it—if you don’t want to go, Sugar—someone else might want to take your place.” He squared his face with mine. His eyes pulled tightly together and then he smiled teasingly.
Storm was right Jordan was kind of a jerk, but crap, he had every right to be, he was hot, so hot!
“I told you he’s an——ass—hard nut, arrgh!” Storm growled, trying to control his tongue and temper. He was definitely going to lose this battle.
“I’m sorry. Yes, I would love to go with you,” I answered, my voice hinged, interrupted by the lump in my throat. I felt slightly embarrassed that I had delayed answering the first time he asked. “If the invitation is still open, that is—is it?” A tone of desperation railed in my vocal cords. And, of course Storm pointed this out.
“You sound so needy...I don’t like this side of you.”
Who asked you, I inwardly lashed back.
“Of course gorgeous, it’s a date,” Jordan’s voice caught my attention. Thank God, I didn’t miss a beat considering that Storm was doing his best to make me look like Sybil, the well-known girl who had seven personalities.
“Awesome. It’s a date then...We’re going to have so much fun. Crazy fun.” I coolly said trying to recover my dignity, all the while shaking inside like a leaf. I wanted to sound hip and cool.
“Crazy fun...” Storm mocked me, personating my voice.
Stop mocking me! Wait...how do you kill a mockingbird?
“Funny Brielle, but it would be crazy. He’s not for you Brielle, please just trust me.”
He’s not for you Brielle, please just trust me...I mocked Storm back. Can’t you say something other than that?
Storm needed to learn a lesson or two, or three—or ten—no, a hundred. I would make him pay for his rude behavior later. He had to learn his place in my head and it wasn’t dictating my every move. I had my own set of brain cells for that. The left side of my brain controls the right and my right side controls the left. I did not need Storm controlling either one. You would think that he would’ve realized that he couldn’t control me after all of these years.
-31-
The truth hurts!
Jordan walked me home from school later that same afternoon. Butterflies fluttered against my heart. I felt like doing a cartwheel, but didn’t dare. I blushed when Jordan told me silly jokes.
He was such a gentleman, and his jerk attitude disappeared once we left the school grounds. I supposed we all had a reputation to uphold. I was certain this was the case with Jordan, especially because he was the most popular guy in school. He really was a doll.
The entire walk home, Storm moaned and said the shittiest things about Jordan. He went as far as calling him, nothing but a slab of pig bacon, a sow; one that took advantage of young women sexually. That comment was more than I could take.
When I got home it was payback time. I was sure it felt like to Storm that I was plucking his wing feathers out one by one. Nasty bird! That would teach him to not mess with me. I raved on and on about Jordan, and how dreamy he was.
My parents were so excited to hear that I had been asked to the prom.
“Mom, can you believe Jordan Ramsey asked me out?
“Of course, sweetie.”
“Dad...what do you think? He’s the biggest jock in school.”
“As long as he treats you right and behaves himself, I am cool with it.” My dad sounded like a geek to me.
“Mom, can we start looking for my dress?”
“Yes, that would be fun. We can go this weekend.”
“Can Nuilley go with us?”
“Sure.” My mom flashed me a slight grin. She was preoccupied setting the table for dinner.
“Can I go too? I think you should buy a guinea sack style of dress that is so popular these days,” Storm said teasingly.
Shut up, I am going to buy a dress that’s form fitting. Something that shows every curve, I retorted back. Hey I might enjoy that you are now able to hear my thoughts. Now, I won’t look like a freak anymore to everyone that catches me talking to myself. There goes that strange girl—crazy girl—psycho nut case! And, you’re going to go insane when you hear my deepest, darkest secrets.
After unloading on Storm, I felt a little victorious. I pulled out my laptop and Googled prom dresses. I was in heaven as for Storm I am sure he went straight to—
“Hello mom.” She was peering over my shoulder. I turned to her. A concerned expression was written all over her face. “Is something wrong?” I asked.
“Are you talking to someone, Brielle?”
“No, just myself.” She flashed me a peculiar glance.
“Ooh, okay.” She sighed with a hint of relief and asked, “Will you help me set the table for dinner?”
“Sure. No problem.” I got up and twirled to the cabinets to get the dishes.
“I am glad to see you so happy. I know things have been tough on you lately.” My mother smiled sincerely. I knew she was relieved to see that some of my despair had lifted since the passing of my grandmother.
At least my parents were reasonable. They seemed happy that I was getting involved with the most popular guy in school.
When Brett entered the room and heard the news about my prom date, of course, he teased me relentlessly during dinner. This was one time I didn’t let Brett annoy me, and I couldn’t deny that I loved all of the attention.
Later that evening when the ten o’clock news began I made my exit. My dad never missed the news; watching the news was not my idea of entertainment, so I stood up and kissed my mother goodnight.
“I am going to bed. Love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, Brie.” She kissed me on the cheek.
Dad glanced over his shoulder, making it obvious that he was looking for some love too. “Love you, darling. Glad you have a date for prom,” he called out.
“Thanks, Dad. If you want, you can meet him next time he walks me home.”
“I plan on it,” he mumbled under his breath.
I threw a soft accent pillow at him as if it were a football. “Catch, Dad.” He did. “Good one—you’ll have to play with Jordan sometime.”
“Your old man still has it,” he boasted.
“We’ll see when it’s a real football, Dad.”
“Cute, Brie.” Dad chuckled. So did I, giggling, as I padded out of the room.
“Love you too, Daddy,” I called out behind me.
I was making my way up the stairs when I heard my mother’s piercing shriek echoing around the corner. I raced back down the stairs and into the living room.
“What’s going on?” I asked, panting. My parents’ eyes were glued to the television screen.
“Brielle...leave the room,” Mom snapped harshly at me. Her eyes darted from the television to me, and then my father.
“What, why? Gosh, I’m almost eighteen...now,” I said, argumentatively. My voice trailed off, scanning the room.
“Mitchell, tell her to go,” My mother called out.
Sensory overload. Mom’s upset again. She had never raised her pitch with me to that degree, or at least, not since I was four years old when she discovered that I’d been talking to the voices. The television blared in the chaos of my parents trying to remove me from the room.
“Brielle, get up stairs, now,” my dad bellowed, frantically looking for the TV remote in the cushion beneath him. I spotted it on the floor under his chair, I leapt, snatching it up and hit the Tevo rewind button. We didn’t have DVR back then.
“Why? No.” I said, objecting defiantly with my eyes glued toward the television screen. The room fell silent. My parents were both paralyzed like two deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. It was too late for them to react.
“A local football star has just been arrested on three counts of date rape.” The female newscaster’s voice rang in my ears.
“We are not releasing the name of this young man but the three young girls that have come forward have been thoroughly questioned and the DA is claiming the case is solid. They are certain there are more girls involved. The young women have clearly identified him as the hero of Forrest Hill’s high school football team. So much for heroes these days, it’s just awful. Back to you, Chuck...”
“Thanks Lindsey,” said Chuck.
The news anchorman’s voice became a blur in my head. I felt immobilized and broke out into sobs. My mother immediately tried to chime in to smooth things over. Dad leaped out of his chair and manually shut off the television.
“Brielle, we don’t know if this boy is Jordan, but, if it is then thank God, these poor girls were brave enough to come forward. And, thank God, you—” When Dad glared at my mother, she swallowed her words. Her eyes drew in deeply. She seemed to age decades within those moments. Her sorrow for my pain absorbed into her face like a sponge. It was as if she had taken a bullet for me.
“Not now, Brandy!” Dad interjected loudly. “You are both acting like it’s the end of the world. We need to get more details tomorrow. Brielle, I don’t want this kid near you until we figure this out.”
A feeling of betrayal swooned over me...my own father didn’t show much concern to how I might be feeling. Why did he jump to conclusions and ban me from Jordan?
Don’t my feelings rate? I thought. If Jordan is guilty of these crimes my life is over...my prom is ruined.
I had my eye on Jordan for over a year. It was all planned out. Well, at least, what I had hoped for the future was planned out in my mind. Jordan and I would go to prom, and then college, and maybe, we would live together for a few years before getting married. He would play for The Giants, and I would write mystery novels. Instantly, my life had fallen into the crapper!
“No mom, this can’t be true,” I cried, hysterically. God, I was such a drama queen at seventeen—wait, almost eighteen.
My womanly intuition knew the truth about Jordan. I could see this in his eyes, something dark. Storm tried to warn me as he had done many times before. He was always looking out for me; I just would not listen.
How could I have misjudged Jordan? I vowed that a man would never dupe me again if things turned out badly this time. A painstaking chill crawled over my entire body. Yet, I was not ready to come to terms with the inevitable truth. Wasn’t he innocent until proven guilty? Isn’t that justice? I would stand by my man, until I couldn’t.
I needed to be alone, and my parents both seemed to respect that decision. What could they say? I was sure they were as shocked as I was; this news left us all speechless, even Storm.
A shockwave bubbled over in the pit of my stomach as I raced up the stairs and to the bathroom. Before I could make it to the toilet, I doubled over. My knees hit hard against the tile as I hurled my dinner across the floor.
Why was my life so complicated? What an e’ffing mess—two fold. I fisted my hands through my long blond hair, pulling it by the roots, hitting my head against the back of the door. This only made matters worse. The repulsive news, coupled with the hammering of my head, penetrated through our entire house.
My mother soon came to my rescue. She knelt down and lulled me closely, despite my vomit-infested garments. She held me tight as I cried in her arms. I never loved her as much as I did in that moment. She was my real angel. That night she bathed me, tucked me in and prayed over my listless body. My heart was broken. I cried myself to sleep.
-32-
Standing by!
The next morning my cell phone was inundated with voice messages, one after the other, from Nuilley. Her calls confirmed that Jordan had been arrested. Her stepfather was a city police officer, so I knew her story was not just gossip but more like gospel.
Tracy and a few other girls were claiming that he attacked them and forced them to have sex. It was hard to comprehend all the facts that were being thrown around, so I chose not to call Nuilley back. Jordan was definitely not the type of guy that had to go to extremes to get sex. I knew for a fact that most girls gave him exactly what he wanted. With that being the case, why would he need to rape the willing? Rumors had it that he liked the thrill, the perverse act of inflicting pain onto women, to berate them into submission, and if they didn’t surrender to his abuse, he raped them. At the time, I couldn’t imagine such lies.
Doubtful still, I chose to blame Storm for ruining my prom—my life. After all, we always hurt the ones that are closest to us. I believed that Storm had certainly lent a hand to the police.
I had no doubt that on some metaphysical level he persuaded the girls to come forward too. I went as far as accusing him of framing Jordan. God, I was such an asshole at times!
I needed to talk to someone. The first person that flashed into my mind was Amanda. Although I hadn’t talked to her in years, I needed to talk to someone that would give me unbiased advice; she would understand.
I found her at the modeling agency that represented her and left a message for her to call me. Immediately, an unknown number flashed on the screen of my cell. I hit the answer button.
“Hello?”
“Hi Brielle, it’s me, Amanda.”
“Oh my God! I am so glad that you called me back. I didn’t think you would remember me. It’s been, gosh, almost four years. I lost your number, so I couldn’t call you. Sorry. Now, that I’m older, well, you know, I figured out how to reach you.” I rambled on without taking a breath. “I really need to see you...to talk to you. I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”
“You sound upset...slow down.” I could hear her smiling through the phone. “First, how have you been?”
“Fine. No, not fine. I have to see you. This guy, he asked me to the prom, and now he’s been arrested.”
“Oh dear...this is terrible news,” she said, exhaling. “Brielle, I can’t believe you are old enough to go to prom. Wow, time sure has flown by.”
