Page 108 of The Perfect Love

Heals Something

Trevor

This is going todrive me insane.

I swear, I’mthiscloseto hiring a private investigator to figure who the fuck it was who… raped Chelsea.

The word makes me want to vomit, but if Chelsea has learned to stomach it, I will too.

I reread the texts from my buddy BK—Blake Klein—one of the few on the team I trusted, mostly because he was like me. Down to earth. Cares about his family. And he had the same girlfriend all through college. They met at freshman orientation and fell for each other. There were a couple of other guys on the team who were similar, and they were the ones I gravitated toward. Sure, I was friendly with most of the guys because that’s how youmake a team work. Being fuckheads to each other only destroys the team morale and ability to trust each other and play well together. I let shit slide—playing girls or talking about them in the locker room—when maybe I shouldn’t have for the supposed wellbeing of the team.

Look where it got me. Most of them stopped speaking to me after my accident. Like I never existed. Poof. Ghosted. Not that I cared—about most of them at least. The only one that actually hurt was my roommate freshman and sophomore year—until I left—DJ. I thought we were good friends, but he was the first to fuck off out of my life after my accident. But maybe these texts from Klein explain why.

BK: I’ve been poking around the team, trying to find out any dirt I can, but I’ve come up empty. I’ve even discreetly mentioned it to a few of the gossipy ball bunnies, but no one has heard anything.

BK: I guess it could’ve been a senior from last year and it get swept under the rug or pushed to the side. Which would be extremely fucked, but D1 sports have done worse in the past. Aside from asking Coach, I don’t have any ideas. I won’t do that, though. It might push things too far.

BK: Unless you want me to.

Me: No. If it was swept under the rug, he’d have to have known, which makes me sick to think about. A grown man protecting a rapist. Fuck that. I appreciate you looking into this for me, though. There’s every chance the police never looked into it. You should see the statistics on how frequently cases like this are blown off by police departments.

BK: That’s some serious fuckery. If someone had done that to Sasha… nah. I can’t even think about it.

Me: Believe me, I understand. Again, I appreciate you checking it out.

BK: No prob. I’ll keep my ears open in case I hear anything.

Me: Thanks. So… how’s the team this year?

I’ve purposely stayed away from any info about it. Not that there are any games yet, but I don’t keep up on social media with any of the guys on the team. If we don’t text, I don’t know about it.

BK: Shitshow. So many newbies who need to be broken in. Oh, and get this shit. Guess who tried out for your spot on the team?

Me: Who?

BK: None other than your former roommate.

Me: DJ? Seriously? Did he get it?

BK: LMAO no. Coach offered him a second-string center field position. Dude couldn’t play well on the team if he tried. He declined the offer, then bitched about it for a month. I don’t even know why he still hangs out with all of us. I thought it was because of you, but he’s held on like a stage 4 clinger.

Me: Wow. And really? You’re going to hate on clingers? Isn’t that how you got your girl?

BK: Shots fired. Damn. And we’re both clingy, thank you. Maybe a little co-dependent, but whatever. We’re happy. I’m actually starting to think about proposing.

Me: That’s awesome, man. Wish you the best.

BK: Back at you. Let me know if you’re around Cuse and we can get together.

Me: Sounds good. Later.

BK: Later.

With a sigh, I flick my phone screen off and stare up at Chelsea’s building. I wish I could solve this for her. Fix it. Iknow I can’t retroactively protect her, but I want to. My mind wanders, and I wonder what could’ve been if Chels and I had met at freshman orientation like BK and his girl. Maybe neither of us would’ve ended up here. Maybe neither of us would have gone through hell over the last year.

I snap myself out of that useless train of thought.

I wish I could’ve been with her longer, protected her from everything she went through, but I’m grateful to have her now. She’s stolen my heart in a way I never could’ve expected, and it’s forcing me to face some of the trauma and hurt I’ve buried deep inside for years, but if that’s the price of falling for a goddess of a woman like her, I’ll pay it over and over again.

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