Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(67)

I can see my parents are struggling, especially Dad, who’s not so good at talking about emotional things. His eyes are red and he doesn’t say much.

“I wish you had told us,” Mom says.

She doesn’t understand how complicated my feelings were right after. “It wasn’t that easy,” I say quietly. “There were a lot of reasons. I knew you’d be upset and worried about me. And I was afraid people would blame me for Brendan’s death.”

“Bullshit.”

My gaze snaps to Dad’s face, his jaw tight and his eyes blazing.

“He knew he did a terrible thing,” Dad continues. “You are not responsible for that.”

I nod, my throat aching. “I also felt like I’d be letting you down. But then I let you down anyway, failing those courses.”

“Oh my God.” More tears stream down Mom’s face. “Skylar.” She closes her eyes briefly and her mouth tightens. “I’m so sorry. Come here.” She stands and moves toward me with her arms outstretched.

Without thinking, I move too and I’m in her tight embrace. Her body is trembling and her arms squeeze me.

“I know you’ve sacrificed a lot for me to go to a good school.” I try to keep my voice steady. “I wanted to do well and make you proud. And I plan to be a damn good teacher. But if you don’t want to help me with that, I understand.”

“Skylar. Honey.” She strokes my hair. “How could you even think that? Of course we’ll support you in whatever you want to do. Right now the most important thing is that you’re okay. I’m so sorry you didn’t feel you could come to us when you needed to.”

My throat thickens and now I really can’t talk.

“I’m glad you told somebody and got help. I’m proud of you, honey. What a strong, amazing woman you are.”

This time her words are sincere and my heart squeezes. I manage to choke out, “Thanks, Mom.”

—

As I drive back to Ridgedale later that afternoon, I’m lighter, my muscles looser. I don’t know how my parents feel about my decision to become a teacher. Maybe they’re disappointed. But I’ve been honest with them—and with myself—and that’s a relief. And I know they care about me.

Maybe this means I really do need to tell Ella about what happened. Because there’s an even bigger wall between us now and being honest with her is probably the only thing that’s ever going to knock it down. That wasn’t part of the plan I drew up last night, but now I think it should be. Maybe she still won’t want to be friends with me, but I’ll be okay. I’m going to make new friends and move on. Like I have from the other crap.

When I get home, I see a light under Ella’s bedroom door. She’s home. I should do this now, while my resolve is firm. I set my suitcase on my bed, wipe damp palms over my jeans, and cross to her room to knock on the door.

“Come in.”

She must think it’s Brooklyn or Natalie. I open the door and step inside. “Hi.”

She looks up from her computer. “Oh. Skylar. Hey.” She gives me a funny look.

“Can we talk? Actually, forget I asked that. I’m not asking, I’m telling you, I need to talk to you about what happened. There are some things you need to hear.”

“Funny. There are some things you need to hear too.”

I frown. “Like what?”

“Like…this.” She turns her laptop toward me. “It’s about your boyfriend.”

I blink but don’t move. “Jacob? What about him?”

“The things you learn with a Google search. I can’t believe you didn’t Google him when you started going out.”

I guess some people do that. Jacob and I are Facebook friends, and I did look back through his timeline and check out his photos from when we first met, just out of curiosity. But I didn’t feel a need to Google him. I know where he’s from, where he played hockey before, what his family’s like.

“Why are you Googling him?” I squint at Ella.

“Honestly? I have no idea. But I found out some interesting stuff. And I think you need to know about it.”

I take a step closer. A sense of dread fills me, dark and cold.

“Your boyfriend was involved in a gang rape back in Saskatoon. Wherever that is.” She shrugs.

Those words make ice water run through my veins. I freeze and stare at her. “What?”

“Read the news article. There are a bunch of them. It was big news up in Canada.”

My insides snarl into painful knots. My skin goes cold and clammy. This can’t be true.

I manage to walk over to Ella’s desk. I bend slightly to read the screen. It takes me a few tries to absorb the words I’m reading.

It’s true.

My stomach heaves and saliva pools in my mouth. My head swims. Jeez, I’m about to vomit. I can’t do that. I swallow. And swallow again. Try to clear my vision. I straighten and look at Ella. “Why are you doing this?”

Her eyes widen. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. It’s not like I made this up. I just happened to find it. And I thought you should know.”

“So glad you care.” I mean it in a sarcastic way, but my voice is flat. “You’ve had a funny way of showing it.”