Page 42 of Someone Like You

So I told him.

Everything.

12

ISAAC

“When I was a freshman in high school, there was a junior named Ethan. He was super popular, on the football team, golden boy, everyone loved him, blah, blah, blah. I was just a dorky loner with no friends, and one day, Ethan started talking to me. He would go out of his way to say hi after gym class when we were in the locker room, and at first, I liked having his attention and didn’t really think anything of it at the time. Honestly, I just thought it was weird a junior was in a freshman gym class, but apparently he’d skipped gym his freshman year because of an injury or something.

“Anyway, no one had ever really tried getting to know me before and I looked forward to those few minutes at the end of gym when I knew Ethan would come see me. I blame my naive eagerness to finally have a friend on my home life. I was adopted by my aunt and uncle when I was two after my parents died in a car accident, but they never wanted me. It wasn’t until I was older that it really started to sink in just how much they neglected me emotionally. I started to resent them, but mostly I just felt like there was something inherently wrong with me. Like I was completely unlovable in some fundamental way, and it wasreallymyfault they couldn’t stand me. I kind of thought it was because I like boys, but I never told them that and I don’t think they ever really knew. Pretty sure they still don’t, but I haven’t spoken to them since I left for college.”

I shrugged, as if the memory of having guardians that weren’t meant to be parents was no big deal.

“So when Ethan started talking to me, being nice and complimenting me—I really,reallyliked it. He made me feel special when no one else in the world ever had. But there was something wrong with him. It was just a gut instinct, but it was strong. While Ididlike his attention, something about him made me really uncomfortable at the same time. And it wasn’t very long until I learned why.”

I took a deep breath and kept staring at my hands as I tied and untied the flimsy cords of my pants. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Brody.

“One day he invited me over to his house. I thought, ‘Hey, why not, no one ever wants to spend time with me outside of school.’ When I got there, Ethan said he wanted to show me something in his room. It never occurred to me that he might hurt me.”

I sighed and shook my head. I didn’t blame myself anymore, but remembering how gullible I was back then was still hard. There had been countless moments when I wished I could somehow visit my past self and warn him.

“We got to his room and it was like a switch had been flipped, like he was showing me therealEthan. He used his much larger size to keep me in the room and told me how pretty I was. Like a girl.” I scoffed at the memory. “He told me he could see how much I wanted him. By that point his…aggression had really started to make me uncomfortable, even a little scared, so I told him that wasn’t true, that I didn’t want him, and when he grabbed my arm I asked him to let me go. I asked himto leave me alone, but he didn’t listen. Up until that point in my life, I didn’t think I would ever be treated that way. People usually stopped when you told them to stop. I mean, I was never coddled, but I’d also never had anyone ignore me outright like that. I was so, so sure that just because I had asked Ethan to stop that hewould. I wasso sure.”

My voice cracked, and I saw Brody start to move in my peripheral, but I put my hand up to ward him off. “I need to…just let me finish, and then…if you still want to…ugh.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “Just let me finish.”

I sucked in a ragged, stilted breath, and kept going. “Ethan didn’t listen to mynosand mystops. He forced himself on me, and…when it was over he told me it was my word against his and that my word didn’t mean shit. I mean, he was right about that. At least that’s what I thought at the time. So I didn’t tell anyone.

“I was too scared to say anything. I was too ashamed and I felt like I’d brought it on myself by being so dumb. I stopped eating and my aunt and uncle got pissed off after a week of me refusing any food, but they ultimately didn’t do anything about it. I never told them why I wasn’t eating. I never told anyone.

“Then I started having these episodes. Something would trigger me and I would just…go crazy.”

I tapped a finger against my temple. “With trauma, the mind wants to forget, but the body forces you to remember. It’s like a warning system has been embedded in you on a cellular level so that when a situation or a person is reminiscent of the traumatic event, it’s like a blaring alarm telling you that there’s danger and you need to get out of there. Or fight it.

“My aunt and uncle didn’t know what to do with me, and by the time I turned eighteen, they washed their hands of me. A school counselor suggested I try seeing a therapist. I was against it at first, but when I started college I decided to try it out, see if it did anything. I hated those first few sessions, but my therapistwas really patient and kind and never judged me a single time, so I eventually opened up to her about what happened. Her and Jordan are the only ones I’ve ever told, and… ”

A humorless laugh bubbled out of me and I shook my head. “The only good part is that Ethan never even looked at me for the rest of the year.”

It was too quiet and too hot down in this basement. My hands were shaking, resting on my thighs, the ties of my pants abandoned beside them. I stared at the tendons popping up through my skin near the knuckles, at the tiny cracks in my skin, the little barely-there blond hairs. I stared hard, as if I could see the very cells in my body that had been imprinted with the pain of the past, and said, “So…so when I saw, um, Sam? I think that’s what Jordan said his name was…well, he looked exactly like Ethan. And I just shut down.”

I couldn’t look at Brody. I didn’t want to see the horrified expression I knew I’d find on his face. I didn’t want to see the pity or the disgust. I wanted to run out of that basement and never come back. I deeply regretted saying anything, but once I’d started, it had been impossible to staunch the flow of words that desperately needed to get out.

“Isaac,” said Brody. His voice was torn and ragged, like he’d swallowed glass. “Sweetheart. Can I come over there?”

My vision blurred, and then tears were spilling down my face. And oh, god, there was nothing I wanted more than to lose myself in Brody’s arms, but if I looked at him, I knew, Iknewwhat I’d find in those pretty gray eyes that saw everything.

“Baby, I need to hold you right now.Please.”

He sounded utterly devastated, and more tears followed the rest. I swiped at them, trying to draw in air, gasping sharply as great, wrenching sobs tore out of me.

I fucking needed him.

“Brody,” I sobbed, and he was on me in an instant. He pulled me into his arms, and I locked myself around him, hiding my wet face in his neck, my body heaving with the force of my tears. He grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and dragged it over us, one hand stroking firmly up and down my back while the other massaged the nape of my neck.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here. You were so brave for sharing that with me, did you know that? You have so much courage, Isaac. So much. I’m so fucking sorry you had to go through that. I’m so sorry he hurt you, baby. You never deserved that. And it’s not your fault. None of that is your fault. You are so fuckingstrongfor surviving something like that, for getting where you are today. For not letting anything—not eventhat—get in the way of your dreams. You are so damn strong. Do you know how much I admire you? Do you know how much I care about you? So fucking beautiful,” he murmured. He never stopped touching me, was rocking us gently as he let me cry into his neck. “You are perfect, Isaac. I’m lucky to have you in my life. I’m lucky to have you with me now. You’re so good.” I felt him kissing my hair, and my breathing began to even out, the tears slowing, my mind calming with every word he spoke. “You’re okay. You’ll always be safe with me. Always.”

We stayed like that for a long time. I never wanted to move from the protection of his arms. His words. His acceptance. But I really needed a tissue, and I was pretty sure I’d snotted on his shirt. Maybethatwould be his breaking point, since it seemed my past wasn’t.

Slowly, reluctantly, I raised my head from the crook of his neck. His eyes were as kind as ever, though there was a sadness in those gray depths that hadn’t been there before.

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