talking about how I was doing. It would have been perfectly natural to never want to talk about it. I think a lot of people go through that.
And yeah, at first it had been hard. But it helped. And I think by just getting it out there, by not holding it in, it made me stronger.
Rimmel and I had talked a lot in the weeks following the car accident and Zach dying. I hadn’t been the one to tell her about being raped. Romeo told her. I was glad he had so I didn’t have to. Sure, talking about it now wasn’t as hard as it used to be, but having to tell someone you were raped… especially a friend who cared about you…
I hated watching the horror and then the pity that always flashed in their eyes. By the time Rim and I were able to talk, Zach was already dead and I was just out of the hospital.
She was a good friend.
A best friend.
She never judged me. She never tried to tell me whatever I was feeling in a particular moment was wrong. It was like she knew emotions, even some feelings were fleeting, and experiencing them was all part of the process of healing.
Having a girl to talk to about what happened… well, it was easier talking to her about it than Braeden or Drew. They were too hotheaded for that. They got too upset.
Rimmel never wanted to punch things when I got teary eyed about being forced into sex. She just held my hand and let me cry.
“I’m good,” I answered, leaning in a little. “Therapy really helps.” I reached out and laid my hand over hers. “Having good friends—family—really helps, too. I finally feel like I’m getting back to normal, you know?”
She squeezed my hand supportively. “Minus the exhaustion inspiring the OJ consumption?” she asked, a teasing note in her voice.
I tilted my head to the side. “I think all the mental turmoil I had to work through is finally catching up to me physically, if that makes sense?”
Rimmel nodded. “Totally. It’s hard to focus on everything at once. For you, dealing with the inner stuff was way more important than the physical stuff. So now that you’re stronger mentally, it’s easier to notice how you are physically.”
Of course she understood. She might not have been raped, but she’d been attacked by Zach. She’d been through a lot with her family, too. Rimmel knew what it was to try and heal.
“I think…” I began and paused. Just because I was able to talk about what was inside didn’t mean it was always easy. Rimmel sensed my hesitation and gave my hand another squeeze. “I know rape is a physical violation.” I paused again to pull my hand away and wrap them both around my coffee. “But I think the bigger violation is emotional. The scars he left inside are so much larger than anything he ever left on me physically.”
Just coming to terms with being used in the way I was, in being treated like something other than human was something I might always struggle with.
“I’m really proud of you,” Rimmel said.
I glanced up, surprised. That was the last response I expected.
She smiled, noting the shock on my face. “You’ve changed a lot since we first met back at the beginning of sophomore year.”
I grimaced, and she shook her head.
“There was nothing wrong with the way you were back then,” she clarified, then went on. “You were always nice to me, even when I tried to be invisible to you. You’ve always been fun and carefree in ways I never will be. I always admired that about you. But you’re so much more than that. Instead of being a victim, you became a fighter. Instead of letting the pain of what happened eat you up inside—something I’ve done—you let it out so you could heal. You’re so strong, Ivy. Strong for being the person you are, for facing everything you’ve faced. I wanted to tell you that you really inspire me. I might not have been through the same things you have, but even so, I’ve learned a lot about having grace from you.”
Tears welled up in the backs of my eyes, and I
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia