Cuts and Bruises

Chapter Thirteen

IM SORRY I HAVENT POSTED IN SO LONG BUT HERES ANOTHER CHAPTER DONT HATE ME

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"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Jane exhales as she watches me from the other side of the room. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I draw my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. "I didn't know it was serious."

Jane arches a genuinely curious eyebrow at me. "Really?"

"Seriously," I tell her. "I just... I don't know. I mean, I knew it was serious, but I never thought of it as sexual harassment or assault, you know?" I shrug. "I barely had time to even process what it was before it started getting blown out of proportion. I just feel bad for not saying something sooner, especially because he did it to another girl."

"Probably more than one," Jane agrees, and then looks at me intently. "I understand, though. It can be hard to differentiate assault and an accident. Besides, ultimately it's up to you whether to tell your story or not." After a moment, she asks hesitantly, "Are you okay?"

I nod slowly. "Yeah," I tell her. "It's just weird, you know, now that all the guys on the team know the truth."

"I'm surprised Andrew didn't throw a punch," Jane muses. 

"Me too," I agree with a small smile. Andrew was like my guard dog; he always took care of me and made sure nobody was messing with me. 

We fall into lapses of easy conversation much less intense than the previous topic for a few minutes before a knock comes from the door. I glance at Jane and see she lifted her finger to her nose— a silent gesture meaning she wouldn't be getting the door— and I roll my eyes.

I slide out of bed and cross the small room to reach for the door handle. When I open it up, I'm surprised when I come face to face— with our height difference, it was more like face to chest— with Vincent.

My brow furrows in confusion and I look at him with dazed eyes. "Vincent?"

"Hey," He says as his gaze floats briefly over my face, and then slides over my shoulder, where I'm sure he saw Jane sitting on the bed. When he looks back at me, he straightens and tells me, "I wanted to talk."

Not even seconds later, I hear a thud from behind me, and Jane appears beside me with a smile. "I was just about to head to the library," Jane grins at me. "I'll see you later."

I stare at her incredulously as she moves past me and Vincent in the doorway and down the hall. "Without a backpack?" I call after her.

I can only hear a laugh come from her as she disappears down the hall, leaving me alone with Vincent. I look up at him again and see a small smirk pulling up the corner of his lips.

"Come in, I guess," I mumble and retreat back into my room.

I climb onto my bed half because there was nowhere else to sit and half because I liked being on my lofted area to force distance between Vincent and I.

He enters the room slowly, his eyes scanning my half of the room as he walks. His gaze lands on my desk, where I had taped a bunch of photographs of me and Danny and my mom.

Vincent leans toward the photos to inspect them, and I grab a pillow to put in my lap nervously. When I think he's going to ask about the images, he looks back at me.

"I came by to see how you're doing," Vincent reveals straightforwardly.

I blink at him, dumbfounded that he cared at all, before replying slowly, "I'm doing good, thank you."