Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
My own brain raced with sympathy for Sterling; he woke up into a different world, having part of his body taken away by people who were threatened by his identity and affection. And it burned with hatred towards those who had caused him pain. The first question to pop from my lips was, “What happened to the boys who did it?” I hoped those sick fuckers fried.
“They were initially taken into police custody, but because of their clean records, age, and the best lawyers their parents’ money could buy, they ended up being released. Their punishment was left up to the school’s discretion.”
“What?” I shouted, unable to control my emotions or the volume of my voice. Several other diners turned to stare, but I didn’t care.
Sterling nodded. “They ended up being expelled from North Point, which upset a lot of people, seeing as they made up nearly the entire basketball team. My parents got letters and voicemails from students and staff alike, begging them to try to reason with the school to let the boys back in, or blaming them and me for ruining the program’s chances for the season.”
“Are you fucking serious?” I snapped. “Those boys blinded you and broke your bones, and all people cared about was the school’s sports teams? Where’s the compassion? Where’s the outrage? They should have to pay for what they did to you!”
“Their parents did,” Sterling shrugged. “My folks filed a civil lawsuit against each of the boys’ families, and against the school for a lack of security and protection. All in all, they won a sum of five million dollars, which they put into a trust for me. If there’s a silver lining to this, it’s that I don’t have to worry about money for my lifetime.”
“Sterling…” I didn’t know how to finish my sentence; how to express my whirring emotions. Words were my livelihood, but they completely evaded me.
“Okay guys,” Marco said as he once again approached our table, this time carrying our dinners. “I’ve got…” he stopped speaking when he saw the tears that now flowed freely down my cheeks, and the way I was clutching onto Sterling’s hands. “Um, should I come back?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay.” I didn’t let loose of Sterling as our waiter placed our plates in front of us.
Marco nervously looked between us and offered a quick, “Let me know if you need anything,” before scurrying away.
I glanced over my plate, although my appetite was gone after the story I heard. My stomach was queasy and my soul was distraught. I didn’t know the right condolences to offer, or the right questions to ask, so I sat in silence and misery.
“I didn’t care about the money at first though,” Sterling added, filling the quiet space around us. “Actually, I threw a fit about it; I was so scared and mad, and looking for somewhere to project my emotions, so I accused my parents of only caring about the cash. I said they’d just pay someone to deal with me and never come around me again. I was such an asshole to them.”
“Oh, sweetheart, no,” I argued, finally finding my voice. “You were traumatized and terrified. Everyone reacts to those things in their own ways. I’m sure your parents understood.”
Sterling smiled sweetly. “They did. They loved me through all of my lashing out and crazy behavior. They got me into counseling for my mental health, and occupational therapy for things I never thought I’d have to relearn, like getting myself dressed and feeding myself. They never left my side. They got me a private tutor and encouraged me to finish school to get my diploma. When I got older and more independent, they helped me get in touch with the guide dog association, and even helped me buy my own home.”
“My mom visited every day at first to help me with laundry, cooking, and cleaning until I learned the layout of my new place. It’s because of her patience and help that I’m able to do everything I can on my own. I owe them everything.”
I didn’t want to let his hand go; I never wanted to let him go, but I was a blubbering mess and had snot running down my mustache, which was unpleasant in so many ways. So, I let loose for just a moment to dry my nose with a napkin before scooping his hand up again.
I squeezed his fingers and told him, “You are a beautiful soul.” I was in awe of his strength and bravery. He’d overcome unimaginable adversity, and carried himself with gratitude and maturity. “I’m amazed by you.”
Sterling brought his hand up from under the table to dab at the wetness that showed beneath the rim of his sunglasses. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Thank you for sharing your story with me. I know it wasn’t easy, and I appreciate it. It makes me feel closer to you.”