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“Now I’ll watch it even less. I’ll send a complaint to ESPN.”
I knew they were trying to make me feel better in that weird way they excelled in, but it just made me feel worse. Two emotionally unavailable football players on my track record. You think I would’ve learned my lesson after the first one. I sniffled again and my mom brought out another tissue box.
“What happened?” she asked gently. Or as gentle as my mom could be.
They asked me that same question when Thomas and I broke up and I refused to answer. I didn’t want to embarrass him. And it was embarrassing by itself. The football player that I dated for years turned out to be cheating on me and I had my blinders on the whole time? For years? How could I explain that to my parents?
Suddenly though, I didn’t care about the humiliation. I wanted to tell someone and not hold on to all of the pain.
“Thomas cheated on me,” I blurted out.
My parents stiffened and glanced at each other. I could see the confusion on their faces. They really had no idea. None at all.
“He—he what?” my dad repeated.
“Cheated?” My mom gave me a long look. “Thomas Sullender?”
“He cheated on me for years.” I blew my nose in another tissue. “It was a running joke at KYU. Everybody knew, I didn’t, and he was a horrible boyfriend and he’s a horrible person and he was harassing me for months until Adam punched him in the face.”
“What?” my mom demanded. She looked over at my dad. “Carl, did you know about this?”
“If you don’t know about it, how am I supposed to know about it?”
Slowly, I explained everything from the beginning. The bleacher bunny photo, the viral videos about Thomas’s body count, all the jokes on the university’s message boards, and then…this semester. My contract with Adam. The agreement I made to keep the linebacker out of trouble.
Everything spilled out.
My dad gaped at me. “I don’t think I can ever ride a Ferris wheel again.”
“Carl, be sensitive,” my mom muttered and rubbed her temples. “And Adam said he loved you.”
“He said he loved me but—but—” My words were fixed together and I was unable to unglue them, to break them apart. “He said he couldn’t do relationships and he—he didn’t deserve me—”
My dad shook his head. “At least he’s honest.”
“Carl,” my mom snapped. “Can you go grab the cookie dough?”
“Hm? Oh, you want to be alone.” He stood up and pushed in his glasses. “Sorry, I’ll go get the cookie dough. I’ll be back in five…whatever the appropriate time is for this.”
I blew my nose in another tissue and my dad walked down the stairs. My mom took her time, picking up the trash, closing the door, and finally sitting next to me on the bed. She brushed back a lock of my hair.
“Piper…” she said softly. “We don’t mean to be bad at this.”
“You’re not bad at this,” I hurried to say, my voice thick.
“You are so kind. You were such an easy child. People used to tell me all the craziness would come later, and I did not believe them. That’s on me. Testimonial evidence should never be ignored in an experiment.” She grabbed a few pillows and fluffed them behind our backs. “Your dad and I are…not used to this.”
I swallowed. “It’s okay.”
“Um…” My mom cleared her throat. “You love this boy? Adam?”
Brushing back another tear, I nodded. “I do.”
“Okay. You love this boy,” my mom said as if she was establishing a fact for one of her research papers.
“Why does this have to be so hard?” I blubbered, reaching for another pillow to hold.
“That’s the thing, Piper. It doesn’t have to be.”
