Now
“Is that Philadelphia’s famous new running back, Tate Durham?”
I paused without turning around; I’d been head-down focused on getting from the locker room and out to my car after a grueling afternoon of spring conditioning. I’d been pretty smug coming into the camp, figuring all the work I’d been doing over the winter would make my first official experience with the Philadelphia team a breeze. But these past two days had seriously kicked my ass, and I was anxious to get over to Gia’s apartment, where I could collapse and die in the peace and comfort of my girlfriend’s arms.
Girlfriend. It still gave me an incredible high to think that word, let alone to say it out loud. I couldn’t believe that when I said it now, it meant Gia. I couldn’t wait to get home to her.
But apparently, before that happened, I had to deal with someone else. I assumed the dude calling out my name was press, since we’d been alerted to the fact that there was media around today. I was surprised that anyone would be interested in me, though. I was pretty small potatoes, just the new player traded from New York.
And then it clicked, and I realized how familiar the voice was. With a smirk, I answered without turning around, keeping my tone bored and self-important.
“Talk to my agent. I don’t have time to answer questions.” I snuck a peek over my shoulder. “Especially smart-ass questions from upstart tight ends from Richmond. What the hell are you doing here, dude?”
Leo jogged over to meet me, a grin on his face. “Hey, I just figured maybe you’d need some emotional support on your first week in the trenches. And I happened to be in town.” He clapped me on the back. “How’s it going, buddy?”
I winced. “Easy, there. They’re killing me, man. I’m sore in places I didn’t know existed.” Narrowing my eyes, I added, “But that’s just between us. Officially, I’m doing fine and not even noticing any issues from the workouts.”
“Got it.” Leo planted his hands on his hips. “Your secret is safe with me . . . mostly because I was in the same boat last week. I figure I’ll just about recover before mini-camp begins.”
“Dude.” I sighed. “This is intense. But I just keep trying to remember that it’s going to pay off come the season. We’ll be in such amazing shape that we’ll be undefeatable, right?”
“You know it.” He paused and then added, “Assuming we live to see it.”
“We will. We’re going to slay on the field.” I shifted the duffel bag on my shoulder. “So seriously, what’re you doing up here? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s great actually.” His eyes were lit up, and I knew that kind of joy could only come from Quinn. “With Quinn and me, things are better than I imagined. I mean, nothing has changed on the outside, but how we’re talking . . . I have more hope now than I’ve had in a long time.”
“That’s really good news.” I meant it. If any two people belonged together, I had to believe it was Quinn and Leo.
“I’m up here for a couple of reasons, and one of them has to do with you. I’m talking with some local elementary and junior high schools about the non-profit we’ve established in Matt’s name. The Matt Lampert Foundation is official now, and we want to get to work right away.”
“Huh. You don’t let any grass grow, do you?” I rubbed the back of my neck. The last person I wanted to think about right now was Matt Lampert. I still hadn’t forgiven him for what he’d done to Gia and how broken he’d left her. I had a feeling, one that grew all the time, that I didn’t know the full story yet, either. There were times when Gia got quiet or when her face darkened, and I knew she was remembering something that was painful or unpleasant. I wished I could wash away all those memories.
“I’m visiting my parents, too, of course, but I caught an earlier flight than I’d planned, so I took a chance and came here first, thinking maybe we could grab a beer and catch up before I head over the bridge.”
I hesitated. It was a weekday, so Gia wouldn’t be getting home for another half-hour, but I liked being there ahead of her so that I could start dinner and see her face light up when she came in and saw me in the kitchen.
Still, I didn’t get to see Leo very often, and he had made the effort to come to the stadium. So I nodded. “Sure, I have a little time. Just let me text . . . someone.”
Leo quirked an eyebrow at me. “Someone? Is this the same someone who we talked about when you were in Richmond?”
I blew out a breath. “Might be. Not ready to spill yet, though.”
“Uh huh. Well, it so happens that one of the items on my agenda is seeing someone to talk about her involvement in the foundation. Would it be possible for us to do that this afternoon?”
I scowled, feeling my tension level rise. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. We’re not exactly, uh, public yet. We try to keep everything between us—just between us. Private.” That wasn’t necessarily my choice. I was ready and willing to tell the world that Gia Capri was my girl, that three or four nights a week, she fell asleep in my arms and woke up the same way. I didn’t have anything to hide. But Gia was understandably gun-shy, and I couldn’t blame her. I tried not to push her into anything that made her nervous.
“I understand.” Leo nodded. “But this is me. I’m not exactly public. I’ve known you both for a long time, and I’m friends with each of you individually. Would it be so bad for us to just hang out a little? I wouldn’t say anything about what’s going on between you.”
I didn’t say it to him, but it was obvious to my way of thinking that if Leo were with Gia and me, it would be a tacit acknowledgement of the fact that she and I were together. On the one hand, I’d been open with Gia about my conversation with Leo earlier this year; she knew that he had some inkling that we were involved. But seeing him might be too much of a push toward admitting that we were together. No matter how much that might be good for me, I knew it could rattle her already shaky comfort zone.
“Let me text her and see what she says,” I answered at last. “But if you screw this up between us, Leo, I’m going to be pissed.”
He fastened me with a stare. “If you two are together, why are you hiding it? More specifically, why are you letting Gia hide it? That’s not a healthy way to kick off a relationship. Take it from one who knows. Is she still punishing herself for Matt?”
I flinched. “No. Of course not. Why would Gia need to punish herself? She didn’t do anything wrong.”
Leo was silent for a moment. “From my point of view and yours, probably not. But in Gia’s mind, his suicide was completely her fault. She thinks she let him down when she broke up with him right before he did it. She believes on some level that if she’d stuck with him longer, he’d still be alive. That she could’ve convinced him to get help.” He sighed. “It’s all bullshit, of course. Matt had every chance, every opportunity, to change over the years. He could’ve gone into rehab a thousand times, and he made the choice for destruction. For a while, I beat myself up for not being a good enough friend to save him. But the truth is that no one could save Matt as long as he was hell-bent on destroying himself.”
As Leo spoke, it struck me anew then that I really didn’t know much about what had gone down between Gia and Matt in the last weeks of his life. I’d known that the two of them had had a tumultuous, on-and-off again relationship throughout college, and Gia had alluded now and then to Matt’s treatment of her—never in good terms. But I didn’t ask for details, and she didn’t supply them. I’d thought that not talking about him was better, that I was helping Gia put him behind her. But maybe I’d been fooling myself.
And maybe Leo had a point. I took out my phone and swiped the screen. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises, but I’ll check with Gia.”
Reading nuances and tone over text was impossible, so I was still uneasy as Leo and I sat at the bar a couple of blocks from Gia’s apartment, waiting for her. She’d answered my text right away, agreeing to meet Leo and me here, but I hadn’t been able to tell if she was pissed at me for even asking or if she was okay with seeing him.
“Hey, look who’s here.” Leo slid off the bar stool and held open his arms. “Long time, no see, sweetheart.” He scrutinized her up and down in a way that didn’t bother me at all, because I knew that his only interest in my girl was brotherly concern. “You look pretty damn good, Gia. Better than back at Christmas.”
Gia stepped easily into Leo’s hug, and I caught sight of her face, eyes squeezed closed, as she embraced him. “Same goes, dude. What did you do, hit the gym twenty-four/seven in the off-season? You bulked up a lot.”
He laughed. “Thanks. I think. Here, we saved you a seat between us.” He pointed to the empty stool next to me.
I didn’t move for a minute. I wasn’t sure how Gia planned to greet me: would she give me a quick nod of acknowledgement, as though we were simply friendly acquaintances? Or would she be comfortable enough to be open about us?
As she always did, my girl surprised the hell out of me. She stepped into the small space between my stool and hers, insinuating herself between my knees, and twined her arms around my neck before boosting herself up to be eye-level with me.
“Hey, baby.” She pressed a fast, intense, open-mouthed kiss on my lips. “How was it today? Are you hurting?”
Relief and outright elation ran through me, but I did my best to play it cool. “It was brutal, babe. I’m definitely going to need a hot bath and a massage.” Gia had demonstrated a real flair for full-body massage lately, and I’d been the happy beneficiary.
“Poor thing.” She settled onto her seat and smiled at Leo. “What’re we drinking? Did you boys think to order me a beer?”
“Coming right up. Corona?” Leo signaled for the bartender.
“You know it.” She waited until the beer was on the coaster in front of her, with the lime wedged into the neck, before she turned back to Leo. “So this is a surprise. What’re you doing in town?”
The two of them launched into a discussion of Leo’s family, of their mutual friends and of the foundation. I sat back in silence, content to watch Gia relax and enjoy herself with our old friend. She seemed open and amenable to his enthusiastic description of the Matt Lampert Foundation; I scrutinized her closely to make sure talking about the non-profit named for her late ex didn’t freak her out, but so far, she seemed okay.
“I’d like to help you, Leo. I’m just not sure what I can do.”
Leo leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar. “It’s education, mostly, and you have a crucial part of the story. You knew Matt better than anyone else did. You can speak to his state of mind, and the fact that by the time he was in college, there wasn’t anything we could do to help him. But maybe if someone had advocated for him earlier, back in high school or even before, he could still be alive.”
Gia turned her beer bottle in a small circle. “Did Tate tell you we saw Mrs. Lampert last month? We were back at home, at a grocery store, and we ran into her. Leo, she didn’t even recognize me. She knew I was one of Matt’s friends, I think, but she couldn’t remember my name or even that Matt and I had been together.”
Leo shook his head. “That’s typical. She knew me, but only because Matt and I hung out from the time we were kids, and my mom made sure to connect with her. Otherwise, she and Mr. Lampert were happy to pretend everything was fine with Matt. His grandfather didn’t really get worried until our senior year, after Matt had been kicked off the team and was probably on his way to getting booted out of school, too. By then, it was way too late.”
“Well, what would I have to do?” Gia glanced at me, and I read the uncertainty in her eyes. Reaching over, I squeezed her hand and smiled. I still wasn’t convinced this was the best idea for her, but neither was I going to be the one to stand in her way.
“First things first. Could you write something about Matt and what happened there? I’d like to include it in our foundation materials, and I know you’d be the best one to do that—it’s your gift.”
Gia nodded slowly. “I guess I could do that.”
“And then later, say maybe this fall or next winter, if you’d feel comfortable, I’d like to set up some dates for us to talk to local schools. I’m starting up here, in the Delaware Valley, because that’s the easiest place to kick this off. People still remember Matt, and so they’re more open to talking about how to prevent a repeat of what happened to him.” Leo hesitated. “That is, if you think you’d be up for that. I don’t want to force you into something that would be too painful.”
“I’d like to think about it.” Gia took a swig of her beer. “I wish I could say I’m strong enough to handle it now, but I don’t know if I am. I’ll definitely do the write-up, though. How soon do you need it?”
“Can we say by the middle of next month? I’m going to be pretty tied up with mini-camp for a while. I have a little down time between the end of that and the start of pre-season training, so I’ll try to get everything done then.”
“I can do that.” Gia blew out a long breath. “Have you heard from Quinn?” It was an abrupt change of subject, and I was fully aware that this was Gia’s way of closing down any more talk about Matt. Leo understood, too, and he tactfully rolled with it.
“Yeah, we’re texting pretty much non-stop now.” He grinned. “I think . . . well, let’s just say I’m optimistic. And Quinn—she’s good. She’s healing. I wasn’t happy when she decided to go to California, but now I can say I think it was the best thing—for both of us.” He chuckled a little as he finished his beer. “Of course, it’s easy to say it now that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but when she left, I was kind of a mess.”
“I remember.” I lifted my own bottle. “I recall several drunken nights of despair this past winter.” I winked at Gia. “Just to be clear, it wasn’t me who was drinking.”
“I get it.” She shifted a little, facing Leo. “Listen, can I ask you a favor? Would you please not say anything to Quinn about, uh, Tate and me?”
The unexpected sting was sharp, and although I didn’t think I’d made any noise, somehow Gia must have sensed I was hurt. She hurried to explain.
“It’s not that I don’t want her to know. But she’ll be upset that I didn’t say anything to her. I’ve just . . .” Her voice trailed off. “It’s been nice, having this be just ours. Us. I feel like so much of the last four years were everyone worrying about me and judging the decisions I made. What’s between Tate and me is . . . special. Private. And once everyone else gets to weigh in, it gets complicated.”
Leo studied both of us for a few moments. “I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to, G. I don’t keep secrets from Quinn, but this isn’t really my secret, is it? So as long as it’s not going to come back to bite me in the ass and make her mad at me, this is your story to tell.” He jerked his chin toward me. “You sure you know what you’re getting into with this big lug? He seems all mild-mannered and shit, but then you get him on the field, and he’s a monster. I had to play against him once last year. It was no picnic.”
Gia leaned back against me, and I circled her waist with one arm. “He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met, and the only thing that worries me is that he’s crazy for getting involved with me. Everyone knows I’m a bad bet.” She said it so matter-of-factly, as though she’d come to accept this truth about herself. I frowned.
“Hey, don’t you believe it. You’re a catch, Gia Capri, and any guy would be damned lucky to have you.” Leo shot me a faux-glower. “If he gets out of line, you let me know. I’ll beat his ass for you.”
I rolled my eyes as Gia giggled. “As if you could, dude. As if you could.”
Leo glanced at his phone. “Well, kids, it’s been real, but I need to go. My mom is texting that if I’m not home in time for dinner, she’s giving my portion to Danny. No way I’m letting that happen.” He stood up and pulled Gia into another bear hug. “Keep in touch, sweetheart. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Leo.” Gia looked up at him wistfully, and I wondered what was going on inside her head, at the same time that I beat down jealousy over her saying those words to Leo before she’d said them to me.
“Durham, keep it real and behave. See you on the field, I guess, if not before.” He gave me a quick bro hug.
“You know it, Taylor. Tell your mom and Danny I said hey.”
“Will do. Later.”
Gia and I sat at the bar without speaking for several seconds. I was the one who broke the silence.
“I was surprised you came to meet us. Leo backed me into a corner, or I never would’ve suggested it to you.”
“I know.” Gia smiled at me, but I could see the strain on her face. “If it were anyone else but Leo, I wouldn’t have been comfortable with it, but I trust him. Leo’s always been good to me. He and I have been through shitty times. He’s like the brother I never had.” She stared down at the edge of the bar, where her fingers were curled. “There were more nights than I can count back in college when I’d be down visiting, and Matt got out of control. I knew if I called Leo, he’d be there for us. And then after Matt . . . after he was gone, Leo looked out for me.” She heaved out a long breath. “Last year, when Quinn and Nate got married, I got the chance to return the favor. Leo was utterly destroyed. He got through the ceremony—we all did, just barely—but then the next day, I had to go back to Quinn’s house at the shore, because I’d left my phone there by mistake. Leo drove me, and the two of them—Leo and Quinn—got into a shouting match. It was horrible. My heart was breaking for both of them.”
“They’ve had a rough time, but it sounds like things are getting better.” I groaned a little as I stood up from the stool. “God almighty, I’m stiff. Are you ready to go home?”
“Sure.” She slid to the floor, and I reached for her hand, needing that connection now more than I had before. “Let’s go home.”
For the next few days after we’d seen Leo, I noticed a slight change in Gia. It wasn’t anything obvious; she was just a little quieter, a little slower to react to me. She was a bit preoccupied. When I asked her about it, she brushed it off, telling me that she was worn out from some busy days at work and getting through midterms at school.
On Friday, she texted me in the middle of the afternoon, asking if we could plan to stay in that night. We’d gotten into the habit of going out for dinner on Fridays, but I definitely didn’t mind skipping it; after a long week of intense work outs and conditioning, lying on Gia’s bed with her in my arms sounded like heaven.
I picked up food from our favorite Thai takeout before I climbed the stairs to her front door. I’d been thinking more and more lately that it would be nice for us to find a place here in the city that was convenient to both the stadium and to the studio where Gia worked. There was no denying the space issues and the downright shabbiness of her current building. I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with her, though—and maybe it was a little too soon.
We’d been doing well, though, I thought. Aside from her recent quietness, Gia was more open now than before, more likely to laugh or to tease me. And our physical relationship continued to be off-the-charts hot; although we hadn’t had sex yet, we’d done everything but. I knew she needed time to be sure before we took that step, and I was positive that was going to happen soon.
Meanwhile, I’d waited a long time for this woman. What was another couple of weeks or so?
“Honey, I’m home,” I quipped as I unlocked the door and dragged myself inside. “And I come bearing food.”
“Mmmmm. Smells good.” Gia met me just beyond the doorway and greeted me with a quick kiss as she took the bags. “I’ll set us up at the table.”
“The table? Really?” I knew my voice reflected my disappointment. Gia had introduced me to the pleasures of eating in bed, and on a night like this, when I was exhausted to the point of falling over, it was especially appealing.
“Okay, okay, you spoiled guy.” She shook her head. “Grab that extra blanket, though. I don’t want to sleep smelling like soy sauce again.”
A few minutes later, we were settled on the bed, as I devoured an entire order of dumplings. That was the other side effect of being back in formal training; I was even hungrier than I normally was.
Even so, it didn’t take me long to notice that Gia wasn’t really eating. She was poking at her lo mein, but very few noodles were making it to her mouth.
“Hey, honey pot.” I used the name that never failed to make her snicker and was rewarded with the ghost of a smile. “What’s going on? You’ve been a little off all week, and now you’re basically stirring that lo mein, not eating it. Talk to me, babe. Tell me what’s happening in that pretty head.”
She laid down her chop sticks across the plate and moved the container of food to the table next to the bed. I could tell she was trying to work herself up to say something, and my own chest tightened in dread.
“The thing is, Tate . . . I want us to have sex.”
I coughed, nearly choking on my bite of rice. “You what now?”
Her face flushed pink. “I know I said we should take things slow, and I wasn’t ready, and that was true. But I do want . . . that. And I know you do.” She ventured a glance at me through her eyelashes.
“Gia. Babe.” I reached over the food containers and dragged her closer to me, pulling her onto my lap. “I do want to make love to you. That’s definitely on my ‘yes, please’ list. But I’m fine with waiting until you’re a hundred percent sure and ready. I’m not trying to pressure you, and if I have been without knowing it, I’m sorry. I’ve waited a long time for you, and I’ll wait forever if you ask me to do it. You and me—we’re the real thing. And the real thing is always worth the wait.”
Tears filled her eyes. “See, now I really want to be with you even more. I want to be as close to you as I possibly can be.” She took a deep breath. “But there are some things you should know first. I need to tell you about me. And about Matt.”
I smoothed the hair back from her face. “Gia, what happened with you and Matt is in the past. It doesn’t have anything to do with us.”
“But it does,” she argued. “Because it’s part of me, and I want you to know what you’re getting into before we have sex. So will you let me tell you?”
I wanted to say no. I wanted to lay her down here and silence her with kisses until she forgot any man who wasn’t me. But I could see the storm brewing in her eyes, and I knew I couldn’t stop her from doing what she felt she had to do.
“Okay.” I settled her more firmly against my chest. “But it’s not going to make any difference in how I feel about you.”
She offered me a tremulous smile. “I hope so. I’m trusting you right now more than I have anyone else, so I hope I don’t regret it.” She crossed her legs and leaned into me as she began to speak.
“I gave away my virginity when I was sixteen. I’d been dating the guy for a little while, and I liked him, but I knew I didn’t love him—I just wanted it over with. We broke up a month later, but we stayed friends. After that, I had two more boyfriends in high school, and I slept with them both. But it really didn’t mean anything with them, either. And it wasn’t particularly . . . exciting. I didn’t get much out of it, but I figured that was a typical teenage experience.
“I messed around with a couple of guys the first month of college, but nothing serious. I remember talking to Zelda, who had a serious policy of hooking up whenever she wanted, with whoever she wanted. She told me that she had sex like a man: no strings, no expectations. When I went down to Carolina that first time, I already knew that was what I wanted. My sisters all talked about how they met the men they ended up marrying during the first year of college, and I didn’t want to be them. As a matter of fact, I was hell-bent on being the opposite of them.”
I rubbed her back but didn’t interrupt.
“Quinn had warned me about Matt before I got there, and I already knew he was an asshole. I didn’t plan to get involved. I was having fun at the bar, just messing around and dancing, and then I met you.” Gia closed her eyes. “Maybe I’m looking back at it through the eyes of what I know now, but it felt like . . . there was something between us. You seemed like a nice guy, and I had this sort of electric reaction to you—the kind that made me want to run away as fast as I could.”
I snorted. “Um . . . I’m sorry? Or you’re welcome? Not sure what to do with that.” It did give me a jolt of surprise that Gia remembered that night the same way I did. She’d never before given me any indication that it had meant anything to her.
“It wasn’t your fault. If I’d responded to you that night, we both would’ve ended up hurt. I wasn’t in a good place then.” She paused. “As opposed to now, clearly, when I’m the picture of mental health.”
“You’re amazing. Stop beating yourself up.” I kissed the top of her head, and she swiveled her neck to look up at me.
“Buddy, you don’t have to try so hard. As long as it’s up to me, you’re getting lucky tonight. If you still want me.”
I couldn’t think of a scenario when I wouldn’t want her, but arguing the point would waste precious time, so I kept my mouth shut and let her continue.
“You might have scared me shitless, but Matt—he seemed like a good bet for some no-strings sexy times. When he propositioned me on the dance floor, I didn’t hesitate. I let him come back to the hotel with me, and—” She broke off. “Matt wasn’t like any guy I’d ever slept with. I found out with him that night that I liked what he gave me. He was rough, he didn’t seem to care much about whether or not I was having a good time, but it turned out that I liked that. I wondered later on if it was because I figured that was what I deserved.”
My blood was on the edge of boiling. Not for the first time, it occurred to me that if Matt Lampert wasn’t already dead, I’d be very tempted to kill him. I realized my hands had fisted, and I made a conscious effort to relax my fingers. Getting angry at a dead man wasn’t going to help Gia now.
“I thought it was a one-night stand. A hook-up. But then . . . Matt started texting me when I was back at school, and when he heard that Quinn was coming back down, he asked if I’d come with her. We sort of fell into a pattern, where I’d ride with Quinn, spend a night or two with Matt and then go back to New Jersey. At first, I thought it was the perfect arrangement. After a while, though, he’d get mad and call to scream at me if he heard I’d gone out with another guy. He was the one telling me we were casual, but when I acted like we were, he was also the one getting crazy jealous.
“I should’ve ended it then and pulled back. I should’ve stopped going down to Carolina, and I should have stopped taking his texts and calls. But the thing was . . . I was already hooked. As much as I pretended that I was cool with keeping things unstructured between us, deep inside, I really believed that at some point, Matt would admit that he loved me. We’d have our happy ending. I saw how he acted, but I thought I could save him.
“That’s how it went for . . . years. All during college. At the end of sophomore year, the coach gave him an ultimatum: he could live with his grandparents over the summer and attend summer school at Birch, on his best behavior, or he was off the team. Matt told me this was our chance to really be together. He’d live at his grandparents’ house in theory, but he’d really be at the apartment I shared with Quinn and Zelda. Quinn spent that summer down south with Leo, so it was just Zelda and me. And Matt.”
“Ah.” I ran a finger down her arm. “And how did that work out?”
Gia hmphed. “How do you think? It was a train wreck. We’d get along for a few days, and then Matt would get trashed . . . sometimes he’d sleep with a random girl and I’d catch them, and then we’d spend days screaming at each other until we wore ourselves out and then we’d have make-up sex, and the whole cycle would begin again. Matt alienated everyone. He picked a big fight with a couple of Birch football players at a bar, and it was ugly. Zelda spent most of the summer being furious with me and hating Matt. She sat me down after he’d gone back to Carolina and told me that I was involved in a relationship of mutual destruction. I remember that, because I’d never considered that maybe I was also bad for Matt. I heard her, and I did try to distance myself from him, but it never seemed to take. He’d call me, crying, and beg me to take him back, and of course, I did, because every time I believed it would be different.”
Gia lapsed into silence, staring across the room as though she could see back through the years. I wished I could ease her pain, even a little.
“By the second half of our senior year, Matt was in a seriously bad way. He’d been kicked off the team, and Leo told me that he didn’t think he was going to classes anymore, either. I lived in constant dread of the next bad thing that was going to happen, even though I didn’t know exactly what that was going to be.”
She paused again, and I had a feeling everything else had been just a warm-up to whatever was coming next.
“One weekend, Matt got mad because he’d mixed up the dates I was supposed to go down there to visit him. He was pissed at me for abandoning him, even though he’d known all along when I was scheduled to arrive. That night, I saw pictures posted on social media . . . Matt, with a bunch of girls. One was giving him a blow job. Another he had bent over a table, and I knew that was one of his favorite . . . well. Anyway, I flipped out. I can’t explain why, because I’d never believed that Matt had been faithful to me, but seeing it right there, and knowing that even if it was taken down immediately, the rest of the world would see it, too—that was different. It was humiliating.
“So I did something . . . impulsive. I went out to a party on fraternity row, and I specifically searched out some of the guys on the football team. I told them that I was Matt Lampert’s girlfriend, that I was looking to get back at him and that I was down for anything. I told them that I wanted mindless sex, and that I didn’t care how that happened, or with whom.”
I began to feel sick. Gia was speaking in a monotone now, and she’d gone stiff in my arms. Her hands were cold underneath mine.
“I didn’t have clear memories the next day of what happened. I’d taken something I shouldn’t have, and I’d drunk a lot, and when I woke up the next morning, I was alone in a room, with my clothes at the end of the bed. I called Zelda to come get me, but I didn’t tell her what had happened.”
“Gia.” I breathed out her name. “Oh, my God. Did you ever tell anyone? Were those guys—were they prosecuted?”
“For what?” She shrugged. “I’d given my consent. Hell, I’d served myself up on a silver platter. I couldn’t be upset with them for doing what I’d begged them to do.” Gia cleared her throat. “But it’s what happened next that changed everything.”