Nets and Lies(21)

The masks of horror were for me.

Numerous pairs of eyes burned through me, questioning, judging, mocking. At that moment, I would have done anything to escape—sold my soul if I had to. The slow burn on my face crept down my neck, and I began to wonder if it would spread out onto my arms as well.

There’s no way they know. Only you and Coach T know what happened, and there’s no way in Hell he’s told! As much as I tried to calm myself down, it didn’t help very much. My heart continued pounding. Just let me make it to my first period class. But when I hurried around the corner, I skidded to a stop. Dr. Micheltree and two men stood outside the classroom.

Suddenly, I forgot how to breathe. A voice in my head screamed, “In and out, in and out!” Picking up my feet seemed foreign, and if someone hadn’t bumped into me, I would have been forever cemented in that spot.

When they saw me, Dr. Micheltree started forward, parting the crowd like Moses with the Red Sea.

“Melanie, will you come with us please?”

Speaking was not even a possibility. Fear wound tightly around my vocal cords, restricting my air. I merely nodded. I followed her and the men back down the hallway.

The looks were even more intense now. I made the mistake of glancing up once, but after the expressions on people’s faces, I ducked my head back down again.

They don’t know. They don’t know. They don’t know! Once again I rationalized that only Coach T and I knew, and he would never, ever tell. He had sworn me to secrecy, hadn’t he? There were no cameras in the gym, and no one had been left at school that late besides us. No one could know!

As much as I tried believing that, I couldn’t possibly understand why I was being summoned to the office not two days after what had happened, nor why everyone looked at me like I was diseased or something.

I was thankful when Dr. Micheltree ushered me into the main office. It was virtually empty this time of the morning, so there was no one else to stare at me. The clicking of her heels echoed off the tile floors as we made our way down the long corridor to her office.

When we got inside, she motioned for me to have a seat. I eased down in the leather chair, never taking my eyes off of the two men in suits.

They must’ve noticed my apprehension because they smiled. The tallest one stepped forward and extended his hand. “Melanie, my name is Jay Pendley. And my partner is Lewis McKay.” He paused for me to shake both of their hands. “We’re investigators with the SVU of the Sheriff’s Department.”

My heart pounded in my ears. “SVU? Like the television show?”

Detective Pendley laughed. “Yes, I suppose so. We’re here to investigate a claim of sexual misconduct.”

“S-Sexual misconduct?” I repeated, lamely. Don’t let your voice crack, Mel. Then the familiar Miranda rights echoed in my head... Anything you say or do can be used against you in a court of law.

“Yes, by one of the coaches here at the school,” Detective McKay replied.

I glanced across the desk at Dr. Micheltree. She briefly met my gaze before averting her eyes to her desk calendar. Keep yourself together. Don’t blush, don’t stutter, don’t give them anything.

I played dumb as best I could. “Um, who are you supposed to be investigating?”

Detective McKay exchanged a glance with Detective Pendley. There was so much eye-shifting and strange looks it made my skin crawl. Finally, he spoke. “Mark Thompson.”

I jolted back in my seat like I had been stunned with a taser. Oh God, they know. How do they do possibly know?

At my reaction, Detective Pendley nodded. “I know it probably sounds unbelievable at the moment, but we do have some evidence to back it up.”

Evidence? What kind of evidence could they possibly have? Pictures, video, an eyewitness? “But what does this have to do with me?” Give them something good, Mel. Push the heat off you anyway you can. I gasped and brought my hand to my chest almost theatrically. “Did one of the other players accuse him of something?”

“No, it wasn’t one of the other players.” Detective Pendley hesitated. He looked over at Detective McKay who nodded. “It was Jordan Solano.”

I was stunned. It took a moment for me to even put a name with a face. Suddenly, a scene flashed before my eyes. It was of Jordan and Coach T at the ball game a few weeks ago. Plainly, I could see her flirting with him, but I also saw the look of amusement on his face. He certainly wasn’t reciprocating her advances. I couldn’t imagine why she would lie about such a thing.

I shook my head at the officers. In a voice that didn’t sound like my own, I blurted, “Coach T would never do something like that.”

“Melanie, we—”

For Will and for my fractured sanity, I continued coming to Coach T’s defense. “She’s lying. I know she is.”

“That’s a pretty hefty claim,” Officer McKay countered.

“But I know her. Jordan’s always in trouble. And when she’s not in trouble, she’s lying to get herself out of trouble. Don’t you know she’s a slut!”

“Melanie!” Dr. Micheltree admonished.

I couldn’t blame her shock. I acted like someone even I didn’t recognize. The Old Melanie would have never thought of calling someone a slut in front of the principal. I would have blushed and died a thousand deaths. But the Old Melanie was dead—staked through the heart on an old futon in Coach T’s office.