Hey Punk, Keep This a Secret

Epilogue

 "Do you remember that one night? It was back in high school. We were sitting on the couch at the Cartor's house together, and you saw me writing in my diary? And when you asked, I only told you that it was evidence of what happened to me," Devin asked.

"Yeah," I said. "That was the night I was raped by my ex boyfriend."

Devin hesitated for a moment. He played with his fingers, the way I always remembered him doing when he was nervous. After a little while, he finally said, "I think I'm ready to tell you what that meant."

"Fire away," I said. "I'm listening."

Even then, it took him a moment of preparing before he could begin. He moved his bag so that it sat in his lap, and he set his left hand on top of it almost protectively. Then, with his right, he began to caress the surgery scar on his upper lip. When he set his hand back onto his bag, he began.

"My brother," he said. "You remember Damien?"

"Yes," I said. "I hated his guts."

"Mhm, I remember," Devin said. "He was a bully. He probably deadnamed you, and called you a lot of slurs."

"Oh yeah," I said. "He definitely did."

"I can imagine," he said.

We sat there in silence for a minute while he nervously played with the zipper on his bag. I could tell he was still simmering on how he was going to go about telling me the truth. I made sure to tell him to take his time.

And then he finally said it. "Damien molested me."

My jaw would have fallen off if it wasn't attached. I didn't want to believe what I was hearing, but looking back on it, I shouldn't have been so surprised. Devin was always expressing those pains, even if he didn't talk about it. The nightmares he had, and the tears he shed, they said it all. And that's not even mentioning the way he flipped out on my ex in court. It was because he knew how I felt, I'm sure. It had to be.

"I remember spending so long thinking that it didn't count, because it's not like Damien could get me pregnant or anything. I was so scared to tell anybody, because I didn't want to take the attention away from you. And honestly, I thought that Taylor would send me back home. I just didn't think my situation was bad enough," he said.

Devin didn't leave room for me to comment. When he paused, I tried to butt in with an apology. He stopped me before anything could leave my mouth, almost like he was scared to hear what I had to say.

"No. Let me finish," he insisted.

"As you can imagine, I had to tell her eventually. I held out until her work started threatening to make her send me back home. At the very last minute, I explained everything. I explained all the ways my parents had abused both of us. Then I told her the reason I ran away: Damien had reached into my pants and groped me in an argument."

"I still remember the way I sobbed. Then the way that Taylor held me in her arms. I kept saying that it didn't count, because I was so convinced it wasn't bad enough to matter. That was when she told me that he had molested me. It was somehow relieving, yet so painful to hear.

"And then- as you know- Taylor became my mother."

I waited until he gave me the okay to say what I was meaning to: "I'm so sorry that I took the attention away from you, Devin." I felt so guilty. There was this part of me that was certain I could've done something. The more I simmered on that, the more I reminded myself of Danny Stewart.

He jumped up at the words. "Oh my god, don't apologize for that," he said. "You had no idea, I'm sure. If you did, you would have encouraged me to come out about it sooner, or maybe you would have told Taylor yourself."

I looked down at my lap. "I didn't know," I said, "but looking back on it now, it wasn't hard to tell that something was wrong. I feel like if I would have talked to you more, you would have told me sooner. It's just- I was so busy with my own problems that I never even thought about doing it."

"Oh, trust me, I wouldn't have told you no matter what you tried," Devin said. "Back then, you couldn't have even tortured it out of me." Both of us couldn't help but laugh awkwardly at the joke.

"I've always had a feeling something was wrong," I told him. "Well- there's nothing wrong with you, but there were signs- you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I get it," Devin said, "but that was the thing. Everybody knew that something was wrong. Figuring out what was wrong was the hard part."

"Clearly," I said, and we laughed again.

We went silent. Then, just when I thought he couldn't, Devin surprised me again. "Damien... he reached out to me the other day."

I put a hand over my mouth. "Oh my God," I gasped.

"It's not as bad as you think," Devin assured me. He opened his phone and showed me the conversation they had:

"Is this Devin Milan," Damien asked.

"Yes, but my name is Devin Cartor now," Devin had answered.

"This is probably a horrible time to reach out, but it's Damien." Upon reading that message, my heart sank on Devin's behalf.

Following that message was a long paragraph. "I feel really bad about all the shit that happened when we were kids. I've started doing serious therapy since I got out of jail (yes, I was in jail), and it's helped me realize all the things I fucked up, especially between the two of us. If you're not ready to forgive me yet, that's ok. I totally get it. I just felt like I should let you know that I'm sorry, and I'm trying to do better."

"Is this why you brought this up now," I asked.

"Kind of," Devin said. "I'm struggling to come up with a good response to all of this, and it's stressing me out."

I tried to think about how I would have answered if Brian had told me the same thing. I'm certain I would have freaked out, and probably blocked him on the spot. I was going to suggest exactly that, until it occurred to me that maybe Devin felt differently about his situation.

"Well," I said. "How do you feel? Are you ready to forgive him?"

Devin shook a little. "No," he said. "I still feel unsafe when I think about him. I need more time to heal from and work through these feelings."

"Then say that," I said. "He'll understand."

"Will he," Devin asked. I think- no, I know- he was hesitant to believe that Damien was saying that in full sincerity.

"He said he would," I answered. "And if he doesn't, he's a liar."

I guess that was all Devin needed to hear. WIthout another word, he responded to Damien with, "I'm happy that you're improving, but I don't think I've healed enough to forgive you yet. I need more time."

We sat in silence for full minutes, fingers crossed, waiting for Damien to answer. In that time, my mind began to race.

Devin may believe that he's being genuine, but I sure as hell don't. There were so many things wrong with that guy that even I could see. There was this heart-shaped emptiness that he wore on his chest- and his mouth- I don't want to think about his mouth. It resembled an open wound, bleeding profusely onto others without a care in the world. And now that I know he's a rapist too, it's even worse. He's not a person at all, as far as I'm concerned.

Finally, snapping me out of my exasperated thoughts, he said, "I get it. Thank you for being honest with me."

Devin's shoulders slumped back, and he sighed with immense relief. "Oh, thank god it's over," he said. Then, to lighten the mood, he added: "I lost the weight of a thousand bricks just now." Both of us got a kick out of that.

After that, we figured it was time to head home. The sun had set a while ago, and we had things to do the next day. Our homes were in opposite directions, but before we were too far apart, I called out to Devin one last time.

"Good job," I told him. "For asserting your boundaries."

"I'm proud of you."