27. Brooke

In Minka"s dorm room, the atmosphere was a blend of excitement and anxiety as we prepared for the Titans" Christmas party. The room was cluttered with makeup, dresses, and accessories, a colorful chaos that usually would have sparked a sense of joy within me. Yet, underneath the festive preparations, a heavy cloud of apprehension weighed on my mind. The interview with Connor"s ex-wife had been playing on a loop in my thoughts, casting a shadow over what should have been a carefree evening. I wasn"t even sure I wanted to go anymore, fearing the whispers and judgmental glances that might follow me the moment I stepped into the party.

Minka seemed to sense my hesitation, pausing in her flurry of activity to give me a concerned look. "You okay?" she asked, her voice soft amidst the hum of excitement that filled the room.

I managed a nod, not trusting myself to speak without revealing the turmoil inside me. The truth was, the idea of facing the Titans and their guests, all of whom were likely privy to the scandal now enveloping Connor and me, was daunting. The thought of being the center of gossip, of being judged based on half-truths and sensational headlines, was enough to make me reconsider attending.

Despite my reservations, Minka gently insisted that we go. "It"ll be good for you to get out, Brooke," she said, offering a smile that was both encouraging and understanding. "And you"ll have me. We"ll face them together."

Her solidarity was a small comfort, a beacon of support in the sea of uncertainty that had become my life. And if anyone knew about facing a scandal head-on, it was Minka.

With a deep breath, I allowed myself to be swept up in the preparations once again, trying to focus on the normalcy of choosing dresses and applying makeup rather than the storm brewing beyond the walls of the dorm room.

As we finally stepped back to assess our reflections in the mirror, the transformation was undeniable. The outward semblance of normalcy, of two college students excited for a Christmas party, belied the complexity of emotions churning beneath the surface.

Minka caught my eye in the mirror and offered a reassuring nod. It was a silent pledge of solidarity, a reminder that I wasn"t alone in this.

Despite that, my anxiety was palpable—a thick, suffocating cloak that seemed to dampen the festive spirit. Minka paused her own preparations to address the turmoil she saw etched across my face.

"Brooke," she said, her voice cutting through my whirlwind of thoughts, "this scrutiny, this judgment you"re fearing, it"s going to be tough, but remember, you"re stronger than their whispers. You and Professor Bradley... only you two know the real story. Hold on to that. His ex sounds bitter and is probably trying to take advantage of your father's weakness."

Her words were a lifeline, but my concerns ran deeper, branching into areas of my life that felt like they were spiraling out of control. "It"s not just the rumors, Minka," I muttered. "My grades... there"s only a week of finals left. And now, with everything being brought into question, I"m worried." The fear of academic and personal fallout blended into a toxic mix of dread. "And what about my dad? If he"s pressured to—could he end up firing Bradley?" The possibility hung in the air, heavy and ominous. "Legally, I"m an adult, so it"s not like there are criminal charges at stake, but this mess... it"s overwhelming." The words spilled out in a rush, a verbal manifestation of the turmoil swirling within me.

Minka"s response was swift and sure, her hand finding mine in a gesture of solidarity. "Hey, listen to me. Your work ethic, your grades, they stand on their own. This... scandal, it won"t change your academic achievements. And your dad, well, he"s got his own decisions to make, but remember, this situation between you and Professor Bradley, it"s complex. As for him, he"s not without his own agency here. He knew the stakes, Brooke. And as for how he"s dealing with this, well, I'm sure he's resilient. This isn't the first time his ex went on TV about him. The problem is, for whatever reason, she dragged you into it. Right now, focus on what"s directly in front of you. Finals, taking care of yourself, dealing with one day at a time. Once finals are done, you have three weeks away from this mess."

I drew a shaky breath, Minka"s words a beacon of clarity in the fog of my anxieties. "I just wish I knew how he was handling this," I murmured, the worry for him a constant ache. "It"s all such a mess."

Minka squeezed my hand reassuringly. "Whatever comes, Brooke, you"re not alone. You"ve got people ready to stand with you, myself included. Don"t forget that." She took a step back, her eyes scanning me from head to toe before a smile spread across her face. "You look beautiful."

I couldn"t help but turn to the mirror to take in her handiwork.

The reflection staring back at me was dressed in a red velvet mini dress that contrasted sharply with the green high heels Minka had insisted I wear. My hair, usually a wavy mess, lay straight and smooth down my back, thanks to her efforts, and the makeup she helped apply enhanced my features without feeling overdone. Despite the external transformation, the tightness in my chest and the churn of my stomach reminded me I was far from being in a partying mood.

"Are you ready to go?" Minka asked, checking her phone. "We"re already late, and knowing Levi, he"s probably in a corner somewhere, waiting and cursing the fact that he has to show up in the first place."

I let out a small laugh, despite the nerves. "He seems extra cranky lately," I pointed out, trying to latch onto something normal amid the chaos.

Minka rolled her eyes but there was a softness to her expression. "Besides the fact that Sawyer Wolfe is starting in January, his younger sister Rika is going to be taking a couple of classes here. While he"s glad she"s away from their mother, he doesn"t like the fact that she"s going to be alone at college." She shrugged, the motion dismissive yet filled with understanding. "I told him she could join our group, but he"s just protective. Rika is eighteen, but she"s graduating high school early and taking four college courses. The girl is so smart."

"She has to be," Brooke said. "With Levi as her brother?"

"Ready?" Minka asked through a smile, her hands deftly adjusting the skirt of her own dress, a hint of anticipation in her voice.

I sucked in a breath, my eyes darting to the mirror once more, fixating on a portion of my hair that suddenly seemed all too important. "Actually, why don"t you go on ahead? I"m going to try to fix this part of my hair," I said, hoping my voice didn"t betray the emotions swirling inside me.

Minka"s eyes narrowed, not out of irritation, but concern. "If you don"t want to go, we can hang out here together," she offered, her voice earnest. "I promise. We don"t have to face anyone if you"re not ready."

Her offer warmed my heart. For a moment, I considered it, the allure of staying back, safe from prying eyes and whispered judgments, almost too tempting. But a part of me knew that avoidance wasn"t the solution, that hiding away would only lend power to the rumors and speculation.

"No, I"ll go," I said finally, a decision born more of stubborn resolve than any real desire to attend. "Just... would you mind letting me have a few minutes alone? I just... I need some space."

Minka nodded, understanding flashing in her gaze. "Of course. I"ll head over to the rink. Text me if you need anything, okay? When you"re ready, let me know and Levi and I will walk over to meet you so you don"t have to be alone."

Gratitude surged through me, compelling me to pull Minka into a tight hug. "Thank you," I whispered, clinging to the solidity of her presence for a moment longer than necessary.

With a final reassuring smile, Minka left, the door clicking shut behind her. Alone, the silence of the room enveloped me, a space to breathe, to gather the fragments of my courage scattered by the storm that was my life. In the quiet, I found a moment of clarity, a resolve to face the evening head-on, not for anyone else, but for myself.

I took a deep, steadying breath, my reflection in the mirror a testament to Minka"s efforts to bolster my confidence for the night ahead. The thought of facing everyone, the murmurs and speculative glances, set my heart racing. But the resolve in Minka"s voice, her unwavering support, sparked a determination within me. If Minka believed I could face this, then I had to believe it too.

Clenching my fists at my sides, I reminded myself that I had faced adversity before. This was just another hurdle, albeit a public and deeply personal one. Whatever happened at the party, I would face it head-on, armed knowing that I wasn"t alone in this.

My nerves buzzed with a mixture of fear and defiance as I gave myself one last look in the mirror. The woman staring back at me, the dress like a suit of armor, was ready for battle. It was a strange feeling, gearing up for a social event as if preparing for war. Yet, the stakes felt just as high. The weight of the scandal, the potential fallout from Connor"s ex-wife"s allegations, loomed large. But I reminded myself of Minka"s words, her offer to skip the event entirely for my sake, and it bolstered my courage. If she could stand by me with such fierce loyalty, I could muster the courage to step into the fray.

With a final glance around the room, I grabbed my phone. I doubted Bradley would reach out, but…just in case.

My hand hovered over the device, tempted to send a message to Minka, to take the easy way out and ask for their immediate company.

But no, this was something I had to start on my own.

Squaring my shoulders, I faced the door. Whatever the night held, whatever judgments or whispers I had to face, I was ready. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn"t just about surviving the party—it was about reclaiming my story, my truth, amidst the chaos.

Until a knock interrupted my thoughts.

No.

Not a knock.

Someone sounded like they wanted to pound the door in.

It was insistent, aggressive, each knock echoing like a warning through the otherwise silent dorm room. My heart leaped, a mixture of hope and apprehension swirling within me. Part of me dared to believe it could be Connor. With that sliver of hope propelling me forward, I hurried to the door and flung it open.

Except…it wasn't Connor at all.

Stephen Hanson stood there, a storm of emotions playing across his features, his hand encased in a cast—a stark reminder of the altercation with Connor. There was no mistaking the fury in his eyes, an intensity that seemed to consume him wholly. Without waiting for an invitation, he barreled past me into the room, a force of nature driven by a need for answers, for confrontation.

I shut the door behind him. The last thing I needed was even more attention, and I doubted Stephen was going to have tact. Not when he was this upset.

"Is it true?" he demanded, his voice raw with anger and something else, something akin to betrayal. "Is everything Sarah Bradley said on TV true?" His question hung in the air between us, a gauntlet thrown, challenging the very foundation of what he believed, of what we had once shared.

I was taken aback, not just by his sudden appearance but by the vehemence of his query. The room seemed to shrink around us, the walls closing in as I faced the accusation in his eyes. This was not how I had envisioned my evening beginning, on the defensive, confronted by a past that refused to remain quietly in the background. Stephen"s presence, his demand for the truth, felt like an intrusion, a violation of the fragile peace I had been trying to cultivate amidst the chaos.

For a moment, I was at a loss, words failing me as I tried to reconcile the Stephen I knew with the one standing before me, anger etched into every line of his face. It was clear he had come seeking answers, driven by the sensational claims that had been broadcast for the world to see. But how could I explain the complexity of my relationship with Connor, the depth of feelings and circumstances that defied simple explanations? How could I make him understand that the truth was far removed from the scandalous headlines? In that instant, I realized the enormity of the rift that had opened up between us, a chasm widened by misunderstandings and the merciless scrutiny of the public eye.

"It"s not any of your business," I said, trying to maintain a veneer of calm despite the storm brewing before me. The words barely left my lips before Stephen"s reaction shattered any pretense of control.

His fist connected with the wall, a sudden, violent action that made me jump. "Anything to do with you is my business," he shouted, his voice a raw echo in the confined space. "Or have you forgotten that?"

My heart skipped a beat, fear threading through the shock. For the first time, I found myself unsure of Stephen, of how he might react next. I had never seen him this... unhinged.

"You need to calm down—" I began, only for him to cut me off.

"Calm down?" His voice rose as he advanced, closing the distance between us with a few determined steps. "Calm down? Look at me, Brooke. Look at my fucking hand. I"m out for two months. Do you really think the Stars are going to be able to make the playoffs? I"m having my best season, and now it"s ruined because Connor fucking Bradley broke my finger."

"How is that my fault?" I demanded, my own anger flaring in response to his accusations. "You showed up at his house?—"

"Because your father asked me to," he interjected, his expression a mix of frustration and something akin to betrayal. "I thought I was helping you."

"You weren"t," I retorted, my voice firm despite the tremor of fear that lingered beneath the surface. "I chose to be there."

"Yeah, I remember you being in his shirt," he said with a sneer, his words like a slap. "Now I know why. Fucking dirty whore. You"re the reason my finger"s broken!"

"I"m sorry about your finger," I replied, trying to keep my cool. "But it"s not fair to blame me for this."

Stephen"s fist slammed into the wall again, making me flinch. He was seething, his face red and contorted with rage. "You think you can just spread your legs for that old fuck, Bradley, and get away with it?"

He stepped closer, invading my personal space. I could feel his hot breath on my face as he spat out his venomous words. "If you"re so willing to be his little whore, I"m going to take you and use you and hurt you the way you hurt me."

Before I could react, he grabbed me, his fingers digging into my arms. I tried to push him away, but he was too strong. He pawed at me, his hands rough and forceful. I could feel the fabric of my dress tearing as he tugged at it.

I fought back with all my might, but it was no use. Stephen was too powerful, fueled by his anger and resentment. I could feel myself being overpowered, my body being pushed against the wall, Stephen ripping at my dress.

Tears sprung into my eyes. I managed to scratch his cheek, drawing blood, but Stephen grabbed my fingers. "Maybe I'll break one of yours," he said in a low voice. "Just so you can see how it feels. But only after I break you."