Shhh... Gianna's Side (8 page)

I cried that night
, but it wasn’t because we were no longer tied to each other. The tears that fell down my face were from happiness. I was free. I could do anything I wanted and wouldn’t have to lie about it anymore. The years that went by slowly began eating away at me. Like with anything that’s new, the first few years were fun, but all good things must come to an end. And it became about survival…

It was nearly four days of partying before I made it back to my apartment where I slept for two straight days. I woke, dry heaving, looking around and trying to figure out where the fuck I was. I reached for my ringing phone, realizing that was what had woken me.

“Hey, Mom,” I moaned.

“My God, Gianna Skyler Edwards. Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick. Your father was going to call the police if I didn’t reach you today.”

I stumbled to the bathroom, squinting my eyes. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve been busy,” I mumbled, rubbing the sore spot on my head.
I had a bump, where the fuck did that come from? I walked to the kitchen and opened every cabinet in the house, looking for coffee.

“That is no excuse to not call your mother after she has left voicemail after voicemail.” I put the phone down on the counter and hit speaker, just allowing her to bitch and complain as I looked for Baileys to put in my coffee. By the time I was done with my first cup of  “coffee
,” she had finished yelling.

“Mom, I get
it, okay. I’m sorry.” I poured myself another cup trying to take the edge off.

“Ugh…honey, I know you do. I’m sorry for yelling at you. You have been through so much. My little girl is such a survivor.”
I rolled my eyes and downed my cup.

“Did you send out the letter?”

“No. Mom, I don- fuck- mom I got to go.” I hung up before she could get another word in.

I hadn’t even realized that I drank half a bottle of whiskey until someone knocked on my door.
I opened it to find a FedEx packet on the floor. I grabbed it and ripped it open as I closed the door behind me.

Gianna,

Since you seem to be too busy for you own mother
, I have taken it upon myself to write the letter for you. We cannot let this man go free. He has put all of us in shambles for what he did to you girls. There is no way he can be let go and possibly do what he did to you and Mack to some other poor, innocent girls. The letter is attached in the packet; all you have to do is sign it. There is also an envelope all ready to be mailed out. Just put it in your mailbox. I think you can handle that. I know you have been through so much, baby. I am so sorry this happened to you, you know if I could switch places with you, I would do it in a heartbeat. I have to live with knowing that I didn’t protect you. I didn’t do my job as a parent.

I love you, Gianna.

Mom

I found the attached letter.

I didn’t even read it.

I ripped it in half and threw it in the garbage.

I
woke to a splitting headache and a blinding light in my eyes. I opened one eye at a time, hoping it relieved the pressure that was building. It didn’t work and I immediately grabbed my temples and squeezed as hard as I could. It was then that I took in my surroundings, and found that I was lying in a bed that wasn’t mine, in between two men, one on each side. Both their backs were to me and the sheets hung low, which exposed their muscular forms.
Fuck me.
I silently prayed that we used a condom; I would have to get tested again. Third fucking time in the last six months. I quietly crawled toward the front edge of the bed and slipped one foot in front of the other on the hardwood floors. I tip toed around the room trying to find my clothes that seemed to be scattered everywhere. I didn’t find my bra or panties; I put my clothes on without them. Another pair lost in the land of one-night stands.

How the hell did I get
there? My head was pounding, my eyes burned, and my stomach was churning with nausea. What the hell did I take? I was becoming a human garbage disposal…at this rate I wouldn’t make it through the year. I found my clutch in the living room and made sure all my contents were inside. The condoms were gone so we must have used them. I grabbed my cell phone as I gently closed the front door behind me.

“Fuck!” It was dead.

I walked outside and looked around, the main road was a few hundred feet in front of me. I recognized where I was on the Vegas strip. It took about forty-five minutes for me to find the first breakfast diner. The pay phone was inside and I called a cab before I went into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror to inspect the damage. My hair was a mess and I pulled it up to an even messier bun. I rinsed my mouth with mouthwash that I kept in my purse and put my aviator sunglasses back on. It covered my bloodshot eyes and the disaster of my appearance didn’t seem so bad. I found the first vacant table and ordered some coffee. My fingers started to twitch and I placed them in my lap; that didn’t stop my knee from bouncing up and down, though.

The waitress stood above me waiting for my order
. “You guys wouldn’t happen to have any alcohol would you?”

She looked
at me with shock and disgust and I couldn’t really blame her.

“Darlin, you look like you need some food. Let me get you some tomato soup, I just made a new batch.”

“I’m fine,” I responded and she cocked her head to the side, giving me a stern look. It reminded me of my mother.

“Whatever. Soup
is fine.”

She nodded and made her way back to the kitchen.

I grabbed my stomach in pain and I knew I was minutes away from starting to get sick and dizzy. I quickly looked in my purse to find anything to take the edge off. I found a white pill that appeared to be a pain pill. My phone was dead so I couldn’t research it.

“Fuck it.” I took it down with nothing but the saliva in my mouth.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my anxiety and nerves. I needed to do something to take my mind off the withdrawal as I looked around at the other tables. There was a newspaper and I reached for it, bringing it back over to me. I avoided newspapers like the plague, but I turned each page wanting to find the comics section.

Right there on the seventh page
was the headline news that I tried to avoid seeing at all costs.

Parole hearing for
James Nichols, who was sentenced to ten years in prison, causing uproar in Rhode Island.

I started to bite the fingernail on
my thumb and soon, both my legs were bouncing up and down. The anxiety rapidly took over my body, I needed to stop reading, but I couldn’t help myself.

The story heard around the world. In March
2005, the town of Shayla Harbor was turned upside down with the shocking revelations of two high school students, McKenzie Perry and Gianna Edwards from Monte Academy. Mr. Nichols was transferred from Mitchell high school in Maine to take the position for the head of the English department at Monte Academy. The twenty-seven-year-old teacher was convicted of raping two of his female students.

The trial began on June 9,
2006. Outside the courtroom, Nichol’s attorney Michael Wayne described his client, who has no criminal background, as “innocent.” The trial lasted three months and the evidence against Nichols was extremely incriminating. The courtroom, families and press eagerly awaited the sentencing and celebrated when terms of Nichols’ verdict was announced. He was sentenced to ten years in prison.

After seven years of good behavior, James Nichols is up for his second parole hearing.
He was denied the first time, two years ago. He still pleads his innocence and it is causing the small community in Rhode Island to come together to keep him in prison. There has been an outpouring of letters and support on this behalf. No statements have been made at this time from the victims. More details as the story unfolds.

I stared at
mine and Mack’s names. You would think I would have gotten use to reading about us in the paper, but it never got old. My mother started to collect every article that was written on the trial, it was all over my house, and there was no way of ever getting away from it.

“Here you go, darlin
,” the waitress said, bringing my attention back to the present. “Such a shame that’s happening.”

“Huh?”

She nodded to the newspaper. “That man deserves to rot in prison for what he did to those girls. Just goes to show you that justice isn’t always served.” I chuckled and nodded.

I
drank half of my coffee as I started to feel the effects of whatever I took. My eyes were glued to Mr. Nichols’ photo in the paper and the memories slowly took over my thoughts.

“Hey, I’m taking off
, I need to meet my dad,” Mack said as we walked into the parking lot of our school.

“Oh okay, call me later
,” I responded, trying to remember where I parked my car. I clicked the keyless entry and followed the sound. I found it in the back of the parking lot and that was when I realized I left the back door ajar.

“Damn it
!” I yelled.

I couldn’t call my dad
, he would just give me a lecture about being responsible and paying attention to my surroundings. It was the last thing I wanted to hear after a long day of school and cheerleading practice.

“Ugh.”

I got in the car, knowing that it wouldn’t turn on when I placed the key in the ignition. I banged on the steering wheel with my hands, frustrated at the situation I found myself in. I wanted to cry because I would have to call Triple A and my dad would find out either way. I could practically hear his lecture about how I never did anything right and how Mack was always better. I rolled my eyes at the thought. I popped the trunk open and walked around to grab the jumper cables.

“Problem?”

I jumped and banged my head on the top of the trunk. “Ow!” I whimpered and my eyes instantly watered.

“Oh shit!” I recognized the voice immediately and turned around to face him. “I’m sorry. Are you all right?” he sympathized.

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my hand back and forth on my head. 

“No you aren’t
, you’re crying,” he addressed and stepped forward a few inches away from my face. His finger swept away a tear.

“I’m fine. I think it was just the initial shock
,” I clarified, trying to hide the color that crept on my face from embarrassment. I hated crying in front of people. 

He smirked
. “Let me make sure you’re all right.” He placed his hand on top of mine and lowered my head. “You’ll have a nasty bump for a few days, but you’ll live. I’m sorry I scared you. I heard the alarm of a car and came over to make sure everything was okay,” he explained as he rubbed the bump in a comforting and soothing way.

My stomach did that
flip-flop thing that it did when I was in his presence, and I stepped back to avoid the inappropriate thoughts.

I cunningly smiled
. “Now you need to make it up to me. You’ll have to jump me.” He laughed and shook his head. “Come on, I know you know how to jump a girl.” He shook his head again but I could tell he was enjoying our banter.

“Let me go pull my car around. Can you stay out of trouble till I get back?” I nodded and smiled.

As soon as I couldn’t see him anymore, I went into my gym bag and changed out of my sweaty tank top and sprayed body spray all over me. I closed the door as I heard his truck approach. He stepped out of his truck and I watched his eyes take in my appearance of a sports bra and cheer shorts.

I
shrugged. “It’s hot.”

He
groaned and gestured with his head to the front of my car. “Make yourself useful and pop the hood please.” I giggled and did as I was told.

He folded the cuffs of his sleeves to avoid getting them dirty and
I watched as he effortlessly brought the life back in my car. It didn’t take him long to jump start my battery.

“Here
,” I said as I poured my water bottle out on his hands and he rubbed them together, cleaning off the oil. I handed him a towel next.

“You’re all set, Miss Edwards.”

“Thanks. Why are you working so late?” I asked, throwing the empty water bottle in the passenger side of my car.

“I was grading test
s and coming up with material for next week.”

I leaned my back on my car
. “Oh. Are you always this much of a planner? Sometimes it’s nice to live on the edge, you know? Not plan anything and just let things happen.”

His eyes changed to a hint of curiousness in them,
“Is that how you live your life?” he interrogated.

“Not really, just when the mood strikes. I’m actually quite a planner. Mack and I know exactly what we are going to do with our lives. It’s all set out
,” I simply responded.

“Sometimes things don’t work out the way you assume they will.”

“Not with me and Mack, we’re like sisters and have had these plans since we were kids.”

He nodded in understanding
. “I can see that.”

I could feel the butterflies in my stomach
. “You’ve been watching me?”

He
cleared his throat and cocked his head to the side. “I observe all my students.”

“Is that all I am? J
ust a student?” I rasped in a sexy voice.

His eyes narrowed
like he was contemplating what to say. “Go home, G.”

I stepped closer
. “Is that what you want?”

He stepped back
. “It’s irrelevant what I want. Go home.” He turned to leave.

“Mr. Nichols…”
He paused and looked at me. “Thanks for jumping me, I hope it was as fulfilling for you as it was for me,” I teased.

He chuckled and shook his head
, placing his hands in his pockets. “Good night, Miss Edwards.”

I want
ed to remember those times, the happy ones, the ones where no one was around and it was just us.

But I
couldn’t…I mostly recalled the ones of hatred.

“We call Gianna Skyler Edwards to the stand.”

I placed my hand on the Bible. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

I nodded.

“Please answer yes or no to the question,” I heard the judge announce.

“Yes.”

The bailiff took the Bible and walked away. The District Attorney approached me and nodded at me, calming me down.

“Is your name Gianna Skyler Edwards?”

“Yes.”

“Were you born on October 17,
1987?”

“Yes.”

“Do you live at 155 Creswalt Drive?”

“Yes.”

“Where were you the night of March 7, 2005?”

I looked
straight across the room at the double doors. I never once looked at McKenzie or Mr. Nichols. I couldn’t look at either of them. I had to stay strong.

“I was with
McKenzie at the football game.”