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After the Game by Abbi Glines (8)

CHAPTER 8

BRADY

Riley looked like she was preparing to walk through a fire. She did not want to be out here with me, and she definitely didn’t want to be getting in my truck. I’d heard most of their conversation through the thin walls. Not that I was trying to, but Riley was talking loud, and she had been pissed.

The way she had talked made me believe her even more. That had been as convincing as it got. She had moved on and wanted to put this behind her. The fact that her mother said she needed a friend made my chest hurt. I’d never been without a friend. But Riley had lived the past two years without one.

I went to open her door for her, and she jerked around and glared at me. “I can open it.”

Okay, then. Apparently my mother was wrong. Opening car doors for females didn’t make them melt. At least not all of them. It pissed this one off.

She climbed inside and slammed the door before I even got to the driver’s side. Once I was inside she turned her head to look at me. “Let’s get this straight. I’m doing this to shut my mother up. You do not deserve this. I shouldn’t have to sit through it. But I am. If I don’t, my mom will nag me about it for weeks. I don’t have the time to listen to that. So get to the point. We can do it sitting right here. This shouldn’t be a long conversation.”

I thought about ignoring that and starting my truck, but I decided against it. Being seen driving around with Riley in my truck would lead to questions I didn’t want to answer. People seeing my truck in their driveway was easier to explain. I could say my mom sent me over with food for the family since they’re having a tough time with her grandmamma. That was believable.

Did that make me sound like a wuss? Yes, it did, but one thing at a time. I was here and that was something.

“I was still fourteen when all of this happened. Which made me young and stupid. I believed Rhett because he was my friend’s older brother, and the rest of the town was so outraged I figured they must be right. I didn’t question it. And . . . maybe I should have.”

She let out a short, hard laugh. “Maybe you should have.” She repeated my words and laughed again. “I seriously don’t have time for this,” she said as she reached for her door handle.

“Wait. Please. Just . . . give me a minute. I’m trying to say this right.”

Sighing, she dropped her hand from the handle. I had a small window of opportunity here. She was no longer interested in getting people to believe her. That much was obvious.

“Let me ask you something, Brady. Why are you having a change of heart? Because you saw Bryony? Because wouldn’t the girl you all assumed I was when I left town have slept with any guy from here to Arkansas to get knocked up?”

She was giving me an opening. I took it. “No. Because seeing you with her made me question everything. You’re a good mom. Bryony loves you. You’re taking care of your grandmother, homeschooling to get your diploma, and you could have given her up for adoption or even aborted her, but you didn’t. All those things say a lot about your character. They don’t say you’re a lying, careless manipulator.”

There. I’d said everything I was thinking.

She didn’t reply right away. I was preparing myself for some smart comment, but it didn’t come. Instead she stared out the window toward her house. I waited for her to either try and leave again or say something.

“I’ve told the story so many times I’m sick of telling it. No one believed me but my parents and the police. And then the Lawtons got in the officer’s ear, and he turned on me too. I was young and terrified of sex. Why would I lie about it? That’s what I never understood,” she said before turning to look back at me.

“You know the story, Brady. You heard it two years ago like everyone else. It hasn’t changed. But I have. I’m not naïve anymore. I grew up.”

I believed her. Every word. The pain in her eyes was clear even with nothing but the streetlight illuminating her face. The guilt inside me grew, and I wanted to hug her or apologize or do something, but she wouldn’t accept it.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said.

She gave me a small half smile that tilted up one corner of her mouth. “Yeah, well, you’re the only one.”

And she was right. I was the only one. The others would believe Rhett forever. It made me sick to think about how power and popularity could ruin others’ lives.

“If I could convince them, I would,” I told her honestly.

She laughed again and shook her head. “If anyone else said that, I wouldn’t believe them. But you’ve always been the hero. Continue on with your crown of sainthood and go about your life. I made it through hell and was rewarded with that little girl sleeping in there. She’s all I need.”

When she reached for the door this time, I didn’t ask her to stop. My question had been answered. My guilt wasn’t relieved, and I knew it never would be. Just like she would never forget the pain this town put her through.

“If you ever need a friend, I’m here,” I told her as she stepped out of the truck.

She didn’t laugh this time, but I could see a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Sure you are, Brady. But I’m not a charity case. I’m strong, and I don’t need anyone.”

As she walked back to the house, I watched until she was safely inside before I started my truck. Tonight I hadn’t made myself feel better, and I realized that was exactly why I had come here to begin with. I had wanted to ease my mind.

It had done the opposite.

I was more weighed down than before. Riley was a good person. Life had been unfair to her. This town had been unfair to her. She’d been raped by an older guy, then ridiculed when she needed support. I had been one of those who turned on her. I couldn’t change the past, but I was going to change the future.

Riley Young was going to be my friend. I wasn’t sure how I would make this happen, because she obviously didn’t like me. Hell, I doubted she had even an ounce of respect for me. But I would make it my mission to earn her friendship just like I had earned her hate. The girl we had all turned against hadn’t crumbled. She had found a strength inside herself and survived. I admired that. I wanted to believe I was that strong. But if I was faced with a real crisis in my life, would I be able to overcome it like she had? I didn’t want to doubt it, but I did.