Chapter 8: I Just Want You To Know Who I Am Part 1
The morning of the trial came too soon for Adam's liking.
He sat in one of the booths at Mickey's Dining Car with Charlie and Gordon, who were trying to get him to eat anything. Charlie noted how thin Adam looked and tried convincing him to get something carb-heavy; in the past week, he knew he'd lost weight, and his scare in the bathroom didn't help matters, either. Charlie had thrown away the razor and hidden all the pill bottles and refused to leave his side that night, even sleeping in the same bed as Adam to help keep the nightmares at bay and make him feel safe. Even Julie had stayed the night, camping out on the floor with Connie and Guy while Fulton took up Charlie's bed; they were all determined to make sure Adam didn't do anything else. And even though Adam had insisted to Charlie that he didn't want to die and wasn't planning on doing that again, Charlie had been scared enough the next day that he called Bombay and asked their former coach to take Adam to the doctor to be sure that he truly was all right; the doctors cleared him within a couple of hours, determining him non-suicidal, but insisted that he not stay in the dorms at Edan Hall until he began seeing a therapist and got on an antidepressant, as well as some medication for anxiety.
Looking at the plate of waffles in front of him, Adam felt as though he'd throw up, his stomach in knots at the thought of needing to eat anything at all. It didn't matter to him that his doctor from the hospital, Gordon, Orion, Charlie, and Scooter were serving as his witnesses; he still needed to see Riley's face in the courtroom that day, and he didn't want to imagine Riley smirking and laughing while he had to testify on the witness stand. Not to mention, all the Ducks and Orion looked at him as if they expected him to shatter at any moment, and he hated that more than the stares and the whispers of his classmates, who would look at him with either disgust, pity, discomfort, or a combination of the three.
Gordon and Charlie sat on either side of him, trying to convince him to eat even a little bit. But Adam could barely swallow his food; he only managed two bites before he pushed the plate away, too upset to keep going.
"Is that all you're having?" Gordon asked him, concerned.
"My stomach hurts," Adam explained, feeling bile rising in his throat as his eyes burned, hot tears already sliding down his face; he hastily wiped them away with impatience. He was so tired of crying all the time.
"All right. I won't force you," Gordon whispered as Charlie threw an arm around his shoulders comfortingly.
"I'm so tired," Adam whispered. "I . . . I . . ."
"Shhh," Gordon whispered, "it's gonna be okay. This will all be over, and you won't have to see any of them again. They're not gonna hurt you anymore."
"But they still are!" Adam buried his face into his arms, a sob bursting past his lips as he felt Charlie rubbing his back soothingly.
"Adam, you'll be fine. We're all gonna be there with you," Charlie whispered. "Ducks fly together, remember? You're not alone."
Adam nodded into his arms and lifted his head as Coach handed him a napkin to wipe his eyes. Gordon looked down at his watch.
"We should head to the courthouse now; it starts in a half hour."
Adam and Charlie nodded reluctantly; nobody looked forward to this. None of them wanted to be in court, needing to testify and recount every gruesome detail of the nightmare that Adam had been put through. But they also knew that if they won, Riley and his friends would be where they belonged: in jail.
But as Bombay drove them to the courthouse, Adam couldn't stop shaking. Charlie refused to let go of his hand even as they walked inside. The moment they stepped inside, Adam was relieved to see Luke and his mom; he'd seen his mother in the hospital after he got out of surgery, and she'd come around to Charlie's to check on him every day that he'd been there, but he hadn't been home at all in the week since the assault happened, mostly to avoid the potential disappointment from his father. His mom was crying, her eyes red-rimmed as she reached over and hugged him, and Adam couldn't help hugging her back just as tightly.
"It'll be okay, baby," he heard her sobbing before she pulled away, stroking his hair away from his forehead.
Adam nodded, not trusting his voice as Luke hugged him tightly, but looking over his older brother's shoulder, he saw his dad watching him from where he'd exited the restroom, hands in his pockets and a torn-up expression on his face, as if he weren't quite sure what to do or say. But much to Adam's surprise, he saw tears on his dad's cheeks glistening under the glaring lights; his father was silent, though Adam didn't sense any disappointment or disgust in his father's gaze as he broke free from his brother and whispered, "Dad," before he launched himself at Phillip, who didn't hesitate to return his embrace.
"God, Adam, I'm sorry," he heard Phillip sobbing.
"I know," Adam managed, his voice strangled as he hugged his dad tighter. He felt a kiss pressed against his head as Phillip wrapped one arm around him. He approached Gordon, who smiled sadly at him.
"Thank you for taking care of him," Phillip whispered.
"I'd never let him down," Gordon assured him, eyes steady as he led them up the stairs and into the courtroom, where the DA, the Ducks, Orion, Riley, and Varsity were waiting. The moment Adam walked inside, he caught Riley's expression. The older boy just smirked in his direction, amused, as if silently trying to tell Adam he was going to get off, and Adam flinched away as if he'd been slapped, the expression in Riley's eyes seeming to cut into him.
"Come on, Adam, let's sit down," Gordon whispered, leading him over to the prosecution side as he approached the DA, Frank Huddy, who walked over and shook his hand.
"Never thought we'd be on the same side, Gordon," Frank said, shaking his head.
"I didn't either. Last time we were in this setting, you had a case against me for my DUI," Gordon replied. "So, who's the attorney for Rick Riley and his friends?"
"Wyatt McGregor," Frank said.
Gordon seemed to pale at this. "Wait, from Ducksworth's?"
"I'm afraid so."
Gordon swore, "Shit! This is gonna be a problem."
"What do you mean, Coach?" asked Connie, biting her lip nervously.
"I know who he is. You thought I was an asshole when I started coaching you guys? This guy's worse. He plays dirtier than I did in court. He often gets handed defendants who are guilty of molestation and child pornography; yes, I'd gotten a few of those, but the difference was this: a lot of my clients were falsely accused, like single fathers who were struggling with raising their kids on their own, people that got accusations pinned on them by people who just simply panicked because they thought a single dad had no place raising his daughter without a woman in the household. Wyatt, on the other hand, I suspect a lot of the people he got were actually guilty and are still walking free because his favorite tactic is to say that the victim was 'asking for it.'" He let out a noise of disgust, looking as though he'd be sick. He turned to Frank. "Beat him, and give him hell. Because I'd sooner kill myself than see Rick Riley and his friends back in the hallways of Edan Hall after what they did to Adam."
"I'll do my best," Frank said. "But you know how good he is."
"He's a disgrace," Gordon gritted out. "I never liked him. He's a slimeball. And his viewpoint on rape victims is disgusting. He should never be allowed near these kinds of cases because of his bias." He moved to sit down next to Adam, who felt the color draining from his face as he stayed underneath his dad's arm; his body shook as he cast Gordon a panicked look, but Gordon quickly leaned a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. That was when Riley's attorney entered the courtroom, and upon seeing Gordon, his hazel eyes seemed alight with a sort of dark amusement as he approached him, smirking. His hair was a paler shade of blond than Gordon's, and he was taller, too; he almost reminded Adam of the goons from Team Iceland at the Jr. Goodwill Games.
"Gordon, never thought I'd see you back here," Wyatt said, his hand out as if to shake Gordon's.
Gordon didn't even extend his hand forward. "Yeah, me neither." The expression in his blue eyes was cold as ice, piercing. He looked about ready to spit in Wyatt's face. Adam was surprised he was holding back from doing just that.
"I'm surprised you turned down this opportunity. I thought you'd take the chance and go for the 'W,' old friend."
"I'm not surprised you took it." Gordon gritted his teeth. "And we're hardly what I'd consider 'friends,' Wyatt."
"And why's that?"
"You disgust me," Gordon spat out, gritting his teeth even harder. "Why don't you go over to your clients? Or did you come here just to gloat?"
Wyatt smirked a little wider before walking over to the defendant's side, sharing smiles with Riley, Cole, and the others. With his good hearing, Adam was able to pick up something along the lines of "You guys will be off free. Don't worry."
"Asshole," whispered Portman.
"Now there's a cake-eater if I ever seen one," piped up Russ.
"I'd like to spit in his face if I get the chance," added Luis.
"That's not a bad idea, Mendoza," approved Portman, looking about ready to take up Luis's suggestion.
"There will be none of that," Gordon snapped quietly.
"But Coach –!" protested Averman.
"No. We're better than that. And there will be no quacking during the trial, either," Gordon said sternly as if he'd read their minds.
"Okay, there won't be any quacking during, but I can't make any promises about after, win or lose," Averman said dryly, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he and Charlie fist-pounded.
"Shut up, Averman!" Orion snapped, and Averman blushed sheepishly.
"He's gonna say we have no case," Gordon gritted. "But we do. The evidence is there. We have the recording the police got from Scooter proving Riley, Cole, Greene, Parlato, and Harlowe conspired to assault Adam, and there's footage from the rink. They're not getting off free, not this time."
Everyone nodded, though Connie, Guy, Julie, and Averman looked nervous. Even Scooter looked like he was about to be sick as the judge walked into the room, and everyone rose.
"All rise for the Honorable Kathleen Herrington."
The judge took her seat behind the bench and said, "Thank you, everyone, you may be seated." She turned to Frank, saying, "If the prosecution is ready, you may present your case."
"Thank you, Your Honor," Frank said. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the prosecution has evidence proving Richard Riley, Jacob Cole, James Greene, Abraham Parlato, and Casey Harlowe guilty of the sexual assault and hazing of Adam Banks.
"Mr. Banks was approached by Mr. Riley, Mr. Cole, Mr. Green, Mr. Parlato, and Mr. Harlowe on the night of November 8th, and they were accompanied by their friend Scott Holland. After confronting Mr. Banks and not allowing him to leave, Mr. Riley led the group in beating him up before they dragged him into the locker room, held his head under the toilet, and assaulted him by shoving one of the hockey sticks up his rectum. That night, Mr. Holland went to them, and they confessed to him that they had conspired earlier in the day to assault Mr. Banks; they were promptly arrested by the police and suspended from Edan Hall until trial.
"After this trial, I will ask that you name the defendants 'guilty.' Thank you."
"Defense?"
"Yes, Your Honor," McGregor said. "Now, the defense has one statement: What Adam Banks is attempting here is nothing more than for show to get attention. He claims my clients harassed and raped him, when it was all simply a misunderstanding. You see, he used to be on the Varsity Warriors team before he switched back to playing JV. This team caused multiple issues at Edan Hall and nearly lost their scholarships due to misdemeanors, poor classroom performance, and poor performance on the ice. It's all in revenge, so what does Mr. Banks do? Falsely accuse my clients of sexual assault. At the trial's conclusion, I'd like you to return with a 'not guilty verdict.' Thank you."
"Thank you, Mr. McGregor," the judge said. "The prosecution may call its first witness."
Charlie sighed; he was up first. As he straightened his tie, he offered Adam a small smile as Frank announced his name. Charlie rose from his seat and sat on the stand.
"Can you state your name and address?"
"Charles Conway, 1109 France Avenue, Building A, Unit A, Minneapolis, Minnesota."
"Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?"
"Yes."
"How do you know Adam Banks?"
"He's my best friend and also my Edan Hall roommate. We were both in Peewees together since we were twelve when the Ducks of District Five were formed; we played together for Team USA at the Jr. Goodwill Games; he was my roommate during that time, too, and we're also on the JV Mighty Ducks of Edan Hall team," Charlie replied.
"Have you and Adam always gotten along well?"
"No, not at first," Charlie said. "Before he was a Duck, he was a member of the Hawks, and he was a pain in the ass – or rather, what my old friend Jesse used to say, 'cake eater.'" At that, Adam had to smile – he knew before joining the Ducks he'd been not the nicest to the others. "But after he joined the Ducks and secured our spot in the playoffs, semifinals, and championship, we became much closer; he's like my brother."
"What is he like?"
"One of the smartest people I know, and also one of the toughest and most ambitious – he tried going on playing in the Jr. Goodwill Games with a sprained wrist because he wanted to impress scouts that were there selecting people for colleges; he hid it from everyone until our coach benched him and we had to bring in somebody else. Eventually, I gave him my spot so he could play in the finals. We brought home gold because of one of his shots in the shootout. Without him, we couldn't have won; he was one of the only ones that practiced during the off-season."
"Were you one of the individuals who found Adam after the assault took place?"
"Yes."
"Can you recount to us what happened?"
"I was studying with my girlfriend, Linda, and it was almost curfew, eleven o'clock. I knew Adam tended to practice late, and Coach Orion left him with the key to lock up, but I didn't want him getting in trouble for missing curfew. So, I went to all of my friends from JV, and my girlfriend went to find the girls, but none of them saw Adam around."
"So, what did you do?"
"We went to the rink. The doors were still open, which meant he was still there. We saw Adam's stuff was still there, so we gathered up his things to return them to Adam and I's room when we saw Richard Riley and his friends leaving the locker room, laughing."
"And what happened when you saw Mr. Riley?"
"I asked him whether he knew where Adam was."
"And what did Mr. Riley tell you?"
"He mocked each of us and told us to check the locker room if we wanted to find Adam."
"And when you entered the locker room, what did you see or hear?"
"We could hear Adam moaning in pain, and we saw Scott Holland looking to rush out the door; he looked scared of something. My friends and I asked him if he knew what happened to Adam, if he had anything to do with it, and Scott told us that he didn't participate, that he wanted nothing to do with it, and that it had been Richard's plan; he claimed that he just stayed behind to make sure that Adam was okay."
"And then what happened?"
"We entered the bathroom area and found Adam."
"And what kind of state was Adam in?"
"It was horrible." Charlie closed his eyes, and Adam felt his eyes sting tearfully as he listened to his best friend recount everything. "He was soaking wet from toilet water, shivering, and he had a dirty sock in his mouth. He was also naked from the waist down and was bleeding and covered in bruises, and his wrist was broken – the same wrist that got injured when he was assaulted during the Jr. Goodwill Games when we played Iceland the first time. When we looked around the locker room, we saw one of the hockey sticks was covered in blood."
"Have you noticed any changes in Adam?"
"Yes. The night we found him, I went over with my friend Fulton to try and help him. As soon as we touched him, he started begging for Richard to stop. He was crying, and I knew he had to be hurt bad, real bad, to cry; he's one of the strongest people I've ever met, and he didn't even cry when he hurt his wrist when we played against Iceland the first time during the Goodwill Games; he just kept going even though he was in pain and would've kept going until he hurt himself permanently. It takes a lot to make him cry like that. When I hugged him and looked at his injuries, I saw where the blood was coming from, and when the paramedics came to help him, he freaked; I'd never seen him that scared in my life. And he's been quiet and withdrawn for the past week – he's been staying with me at my place, and he hasn't slept because he's constantly having nightmares."
"Did you know how Richard and Adam got along when Adam was with Varsity?"
"I sensed they didn't like each other," Charlie said; it clearly disgusted him to have to call Rick by his real name. "I think Richard was jealous that Adam got on Varsity when he was only a freshman. But Coach Orion saw Adam had talent and knew he was too good to be on JV. Richard also didn't seem to like that Adam wouldn't go along with harassing me and members of the JV team. Adam hasn't said much about what it was like being on Varsity, but he had to have hated it if he begged Coach Orion to let him play on JV again when being on Varsity could've given him better opportunities after high school. It makes me wonder what the Varsity players did or said to him while he was with them."
"Thank you. Nothing further, Your Honor."
McGregor rose from his seat with a smile. "You are here to help your friend in any way that you can, right?"
"Yes."
"Would that include lying?"
"I swore to tell the truth," Charlie said.
"You're known for your pranks, aren't you?"
"Sure, when I was younger, my friends and I would pull a lot of stupid stuff for kicks." Adam had to smile; Charlie and Averman were the kings of practical jokes and pulled some of the most famous – or infamous – ones; he heard about the dog shit in a purse prank Charlie pulled on some poor bastard before his first practice with Bombay, and even Adam had to admit that one was creative. Glancing over at Gordon, he could see Bombay smiling fondly. Even Orion seemed amused – he heard about that one from Averman once during practice.
"Were you the one who conspired to give Richard and his friends horse manure disguised as homemade brownies?"
"We only did that because they were being jerks and stealing our friend Ken's lunch every day. We didn't start anything with them; we minded our own business and just wanted to play hockey and go to school. We only pranked them after they started picking on us. And most of what we did to them was harmless."
"Including the prank with fire ants? Or the liquid nitrogen on their letterman jackets?"
"Fire ant bites and doing illegal maneuvers on the ice during the JV vs. Varsity match don't compare to the other. A fire ant bite will heal. Liquid nitrogen freezes stuff. But illegal penalties that could cause severe injuries like concussions or broken wrists are something else. Especially since we've got girls on our team; if the Varsity players went after them hard enough, they could've hurt them severely. And I'd hate to think what they'd try doing to my friends Connie, Tammy, and Julie off the ice if they hurt Adam the way that they did. That, and they tricked us into thinking we were getting a free meal that they forced my friends and me to pay for when the bill came out to eight-hundred-fifty-seven dollars; we had to go on kitchen duty and scrub toilets that night to pay off that money because we were ripped off; it was all a scam, and we could've gotten into so much trouble – the fire ants didn't come until after the dinner scam. The liquid nitrogen on the letterman jackets was after they threw our clothes into the showers, leaving us nothing to change into after practice. They did all of that to embarrass us, just like how they intended to humiliate Adam by assaulting him with that hockey stick. They have made our lives a living, breathing hell since day one. What we did was harmless compared to what they did to us."
"And how were things with Adam after he switched to Varsity?"
"Things weren't good. I was an asshole to him . . . well, to everyone, really. I was angry, I was hurt, and I didn't communicate my feelings well – I take responsibility for that. It was a lot of change happening all at once. I had to deal with my former coach leaving us; I felt like the closest person I had to a dad was abandoning me. And then it felt like Adam was abandoning me, too, when he got moved to Varsity, even if it isn't his fault that he's just too talented for his own good. On top of that, I disliked my new coach's methods because I was not only accustomed to the way things were before, but I didn't want anyone else coaching us. And I was stripped of my captain's title, and that all happened within a week or so. I never should've treated Adam the way that I did. Or any of my friends, for that matter. He didn't deserve that – none of them did, and neither did Coach Orion. But I didn't know what to do with myself. They've all been more forgiving than I probably deserve."
"Is it true that you quit the JV team at one point?"
"Objection, Your Honor. Is there any relevance?" Frank asked.
"Sustained," Judge Herrington said. "Mr. McGregor, stick to only relevant information, please?"
"Yes, Your Honor. Now, is it true that you and your friends from the JV team almost got kicked out of Edan Hall for your pranks and misdemeanor? As well as your poor grades and performance on the ice?"
"Yes, but our former hockey coach stepped in as our attorney and represented us. He said he could slap the board members with an injunction because we couldn't be voided of our scholarships except for cause. There was no cause. Our current coach's standards are a C average – most of us have a B or higher and are in advanced classes – and we also proved ourselves in the JV vs. Varsity match; we won that day. That's why Edan Hall's hockey team is known as the Mighty Ducks. We're staying at Edan Hall because we may not come from money, but we deserve to be there because we bust our butts off not just on the ice, but in the classrooms, too. And that was all a sham pulled by Varsity because they wanted us out of there the moment we stepped foot in Edan Hall."
"What about the incident between you, Marc Lowe, and Tobias McCarthy at the beginning of this week? According to those two young men, you initiated the fight."
"Because even though Richard and the others were gone, the remaining Varsity players wouldn't stop the harassment. And they're still doing it. Two days ago, what remained of those guys cornered Adam in the bathroom, and they embarrassed him until he started crying; there's no good reason why anybody should do that to somebody else," Charlie explained, his voice laced with anger, but he was doing a surprisingly good job at keeping his temper under control. "Monday morning during breakfast, we overheard them discussing ways they would like to see Adam kill himself. And then, when I went to my locker to get ready for homeroom, Adam's locker was trashed with shaving cream, and written on the door in Sharpie were the words 'faggot' and 'slut;' there were sticky notes on his locker door along with a razor blade, and the notes were telling him he should commit suicide. Yeah, sure, I shouldn't have punched Tobias McCarthy, but I don't regret why I did it. Not for a second. Because there's absolutely no excuse for anyone to tell a person that their life isn't worth living, what they did on Monday was wrong. And I'm not gonna apologize for sticking up for a friend."
"According to Richard Riley, you didn't just approach and ask him where your friend was that night. You punched him in the face. Why did you do that?"
"Because if he was laughing about Adam, I knew it couldn't be anything good," Charlie said. "Though if you ask me, that punch hardly sufficed for what he did to Adam."
"Nothing further, Your Honor."
Charlie sighed and rose from his seat to trade places with Gordon, who patted Adam on the shoulder and offered him a comforting smile as Frank said, "The prosecution calls Gordon Bombay to the stand." The moment Charlie moved closer to Adam, Adam rose from his seat and hugged Charlie tightly, feeling he was about to start crying for what had to be the tenth time that morning. Charlie raised his hand to stroke his hair as Adam let out a quiet sob.
"I'm sorry," Charlie mumbled as Adam tightened his hold around him, letting out another sob as Gordon rose from his seat and took his spot on the witness stand. He stated his name – "Gordon James Bombay" – and address and swore to say nothing but the truth. Charlie broke free from the hug, allowing Adam to sit back down with his dad while he took his seat behind Adam next to Linda.
"What is your relation to the prosecution?" Frank asked.
"I'm Adam's former Peewee hockey coach, and I also coached him during the Jr. Goodwill Games when we represented Team USA," Gordon replied.
"How close are you to him?"
"He's like a son to me. All of the Ducks are like the kids I never got to have yet. They gave me a life."
"You went to visit Adam in the hospital the night he was attacked, correct?"
"Yes."
"What was his state of mind when you saw him?"
"He was distraught and hurting. I'd only seen him cry once, and that was when I coached him in the Goodwill Games after I benched him because of his sprained wrist; he was upset that day because he wanted so badly to play and make his dad proud of him." Adam felt his father tense beside him, and as he glanced up, he saw the remorse reflected in Phillip's eyes; his father was fighting to hold back his tears. "But the night I saw him in the hospital, he thought the reason why Richard Riley and his friends assaulted him the way that they did was that he thought there had to be something wrong with him. He thought he was weak for being unable to fight back when it was five against one," Gordon continued, and at that, Phillip unsuccessfully stifled a sob; Adam's mom, Allyson, had her face buried in her hands as she cried, and Luke was biting his lower lip and clenching his hands into fists.
"And you saw him two nights ago, correct?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"Charles Conway, his roommate and best friend, called me, extremely upset because Adam had locked himself in the bathroom and sounded like he was crying. Charles said he and his friends overheard Adam throwing up; they tried getting him to open the door. He and his friends ended up calling Adam's current coach, Theodore Orion, and me, and we broke the door down when we got there. Adam had taken eight ibuprofens and had cut himself with a razor blade."
"Did you call for an ambulance?"
"No. Adam told me he vomited up the pills, and the cut he did on his thigh wasn't deep enough for him to bleed to death. I got him to the toilet to make him throw up and get whatever remained of the pills out of his system, except there wasn't anything left. That's why I didn't call 9-1-1; there wasn't anything left in him."
"What did he tell you? Why'd he do it?"
"He told me that he wanted the pain to stop; that he felt he made a mistake trying to return to school so shortly after what had happened. He said he didn't want to die and that he hadn't been trying to kill himself, but he also told me he needed help; that's another reason I didn't call for paramedics, because while he did harm himself and needs therapy, I don't think he truly wants to kill himself – he admitted that he needs help. I gave him a phone number for a therapist I saw some time ago, and I also took him to the doctor the next day; he was cleared in a couple of hours."
"And what happened after you found him that night?"
"His friends hid the pills and got rid of the razor. Charles, Constance Moreau, Fulton Reed, Julianne Gaffney, and Guy Germaine stayed with him the rest of the night to ensure nothing else happened to him. It was the next morning that I took him to the hospital to see a doctor who determined him non-suicidal."
"How did the doctor determine that?"
"It was based on what Adam told him: He doesn't want to die, and he took the first step in admitting that he's got a problem. I may not be a psychiatrist, but it's obvious that he's depressed, and that experiencing the assault has given him anxiety. He spends all day lying there crying and shaking, he's refused to eat much, and he's having trouble sleeping through the night without someone else in bed with him. That's what Charles and his mother told me."
"Thank you. That would be all, Your Honor."
"Defense?"
Wyatt rose from his seat and approached Gordon, and already, Adam felt dread settling in. If Gordon and this guy had history, Adam didn't want to imagine what Wyatt would ask Bombay. Would he mention their time at Edan Hall or his former coach's drinking issue? Hot tears filled Adam's eyes as Wyatt asked, "How did you get Adam Banks onto your team, The Ducks? Wasn't he a Hawk?"
"The district lines were redrawn. Edina is within the boundaries of District Five; it meant Adam was playing on the wrong team that whole season. If the district lines were how they were when I was in Peewees, I would've been a Duck, not a Hawk," Gordon replied, his voice very mild. "And I think you know that, too. You were in Minor Midgets when I was in Peewees."
"How'd you come to coaching? Does it have something to do with your DUI?"
"Objection; relevance?" Frank asked.
"I'm getting there, Your Honor," Wyatt said.
"Overruled," the judge said, "continue."
"Yes," Gordon said, "yes, it was because of that DUI. I was sentenced to community service; I messed up; there's no denying that. But those kids – the Ducks – they saved me in every way that matters. And Adam's part of that. Without them, I would've drunk until I died of alcohol poisoning. And they made me realize that there's more to life than just winning, that being part of a team means you have something you belong to, that it's something you feel – they reminded me of that."
"And that's why you quit being an attorney?"
"Yes. Because while I may have rarely lost a case, I didn't enjoy any of it; the most fulfilling moments in my life were coaching Adam and the Ducks before they went to Edan Hall. Mr. Gerald Ducksworth may have threatened to fire me if I didn't withdraw my protest to have Adam play with the Ducks, and sure, I could've slapped him with a wrongful termination suit for that, but it was much more satisfying walking away knowing I'd continue coaching those kids. He did me a favor that day."
"Then why did you stop coaching?"
"Because I was given an opportunity to be part of the Jr. Goodwill Games Committee. And I knew Adam and his friends would have a chance at Edan Hall and that they'd be in good hands with Theodore Orion coaching them; I'd trust him with my life," Gordon explained firmly.
"And within the first week, Mr. Banks was placed on the Varsity team, right?"
"He shouldn't be on JV; I know how good he is, and he is talented enough to be in Varsity. But he never wanted it. All of his friends are on JV. It was his choice to switch."
"Did he ever tell you why he wanted to switch from Varsity to JV?"
"He only told me the bare minimum when I came home for our good friend's funeral. Within that first week, he was switched to a team that didn't accept him, and his friends from the JV team thought him to be a traitor because he was put in a position he had no control over. He said to me that he didn't want any part of the pranks that were happening on campus, and he tried warning his friends about the 'free dinner' prank that got pulled on them. He said that he was ostracized on both sides and sick of feeling like everything was his fault."
"And what about his supposed friendship with Charles Conway?"
"Have you ever been a teenager yourself?" Gordon asked dryly before his tone shifted to something milder. "I dare you to try going back in time and being fifteen years old again. Last I checked, high school sucked, at least for most of us. Now imagine having everything you're accustomed to changing as you deal with hormones and puberty, having your best friend get moved to a team of people who decide they hate you for whatever reason, being stripped away of the captain's position that you busted your butt off for and struggling in classes that are beyond anything you ever experienced in your life, because you went to public school for most of your adolescence because your parents couldn't afford to send you to private school. What would you think of you? I'm not saying that excuses anything Charles did. But he and Adam and all those Ducks are kids; they're teenagers, they take everything personally, and they don't like change. If you ever asked me, 'Would you like to go back to being fifteen/sixteen years old?' I would tell you, 'Have you completely lost your mind?' I don't envy what these kids go through; I've lived through it, and they have it way worse off than I did. And it will only worsen if there's no action to improve things now."
"What point are you trying to make?"
"My point is that things now are completely different from where they were twenty years ago," Gordon said. "You and I both went to the same high school, had the same education, seen the same things play out. What might've been considered acceptable or a stupid joke back then isn't acceptable now. And it only got worse over the years, and when these kids grow up, and their children are in high school forty or fifty or even sixty years from now, things will be even worse if no action is being taken. What happened to Adam is only the beginning of things getting worse. When I saw him in that hospital bed, when I heard what his doctor had to say about the severity of his injuries from that assault, I knew I could no longer stay silent, because that would be letting Adam down, as well as the Ducks. And I'm not going to let those kids down," Gordon said firmly. He looked tempted to start quacking then and there; he had that look in his eyes that reflected that playful glint only the Ducks recognized, signifying he probably would quack off Wyatt, but he was saving that for later when they won. Adam smiled as he recognized that, and when he turned to look at Coach Orion, Ted's eyes reflected amusement. Gordon had told Charlie and the others that he quacked at Ducksworth when he willingly walked away from working at the firm in favor of continuing to be their hockey coach. It would be almost too fitting if he quacked at Wyatt. He looked at Wyatt as if daring him to challenge what he had to say.
"Thank you. Nothing further, Your Honor," Wyatt said; he seemed to know that he was defeated, but he also seemed determined to prove his case even though he had nothing. And as Gordon got up, Coach Orion was called to the witness stand. Gordon winked at Adam reassuringly as he sat back down next to him. Adam managed a weak smile through his tears as Orion went through the same cross-examination, explaining everything and recounting that he'd been there the night Adam was assaulted, how he'd been the one to drive several of the Ducks to the hospital, and how he'd been one of the people who helped Adam the night he took the pills and cut himself.
"And you believed Mr. Banks when he said Mr. Riley sexually assaulted him?" Wyatt was currently asking Orion.
"He was too traumatized to speak on it," Orion said coolly. "He wouldn't even look at me at first; he thought I was going to be disappointed in him for not fighting back harder when it wasn't a fair fight."
"Were you hard on him when he first came to Edan Hall?"
"I was tough on all the Ducks," Orion replied firmly. "I may have even said and done things that made them hate me for a while. But they're better players because I helped them, I taught them how to take a different approach, and they won that JV vs. Varsity game fair and square simply by being their best. They all have talent, especially Banks; I saw his potential for Varsity. I only switched him back to JV because he begged me to. But he never told me a specific reason for why he wanted to switch, though when I looked at his face when he asked me that, he was scared of something. Though from how Richard Riley and his friends attacked him last week, I'd say I can't blame him for wanting to leave. I'd want to leave."
"Why are you so determined to prove that it happened?"
"Because I have a daughter," Orion said coolly, "and when I saw Adam laying in there in that hospital bed, I was upset. I didn't see him; I saw my daughter Sara – I thought if that were her, if she'd been hurt the way Adam had been, if she had to go through what Adam and his friends went through for weeks, getting endlessly harassed and threatened to have her scholarship voided without probable cause, I'd do whatever it took to make sure she saw her day in court. And it did happen: Adam was attacked. You didn't see him that night in the hospital. I did. While coaching at Edan Hall, I had never seen anyone injured the way Adam was; I had never even heard of anything like that happening. I don't know if you have any children, but if it happened to your child, what would you do?"
Adam felt more tears sting his eyes at the thought. It was the most Orion ever cared to say to anyone; he never talked about his personal life with anybody. To hear Orion talking about him this way made Adam realize the hardened coach did care, and it made him cry harder.
"It's funny you should mention your daughter," Wyatt said, "with that being said, do girls have any place playing on an ice hockey team with boys? Charles Conway mentioned that the girls could've been brutally injured by someone much larger than them on the ice. Why put them in that position and risk their safety? Why not advocate for a girls' hockey team? Do you have the boys and girls share a changing room, too?"
Orion looked back at him coolly while Frank said, "Objection, Your Honor! Relevance? This case is about Adam; this isn't about males vs. females in athletics."
"Sustained; counselor, stick to relevant information, please."
Wyatt sighed again. "Thank you. Nothing further, Your Honor." Orion rose off the stand and returned to his seat next to Bombay, but before he could sit down, Adam got up from his seat and launched himself at Orion, who returned the hug just as firmly and whispered, "I meant what I said. You guys are all my kids now – you're part of my family, too." His voice was gruff as ever, but Adam could detect a gentleness there that caused him to sob.
Adam tightened his grip around Orion, sobbing, "Thank you!"
"It'll be okay, kid." Orion ruffled the back of his hair before pulling away, patting him on the shoulder and offering him one of his rare smiles.
"The prosecution calls Dr. Michael Clarke to the stand."
Adam's doctor went up on the witness stand and gave his statement – he explained how badly hurt Adam had been when he'd gotten to the hospital, how the tearing in his rectum could only come from a hockey stick, how the police had shown him photos of the hockey stick covered in blood and how the DNA matched Adam's, and how the fingerprints on the stick matched Riley's. When Wyatt asked the doctor whether Adam's injuries could've potentially come from playing hockey, Dr. Clarke looked at him as if that were the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.
"You don't get injuries like that from playing hockey. The way his wrist was broken, it only could've been twisted by blunt force, as if someone had grabbed him and twisted his wrist. And the tearing in his rectum? There was too much blood; you don't get an injury like a torn rectum from falling on the ice. It's impossible. Plus, the blood found on that hockey stick was Adam's."
"Thank you. Nothing further."
Scooter gave the same explanation: how he'd been there, how Riley had pressured him into coming that night, how he stayed behind to make sure Adam was all right, how the police had put a wire on him so he could go to Riley's dorm and get Riley and the others to incriminate themselves, and he even allowed Frank to play the tape recording of him getting Riley and the others to confess that they had conspired to assault Adam. He didn't cave once, even as Wyatt grilled him, this time asking if it was just Riley screwing around and it all being a prank. Still, Scooter didn't waver, insisting it had been an assault, that it had been calculated and planned out the night before, and he even risked dirty looks being shot his way by Riley and his teammates. But he continued telling the truth.
"Nothing further, Your Honor."
Finally, it was the moment Adam had been dreading. His stomach lurched, and he felt as though he'd throw up as he looked at Gordon, who stared back at him sympathetically.
"I can't do this," he whispered.
"Yes, you can," Gordon whispered. "Just tell the truth. If you get scared, just look at me or Charlie. You're gonna be fine. And if Wyatt gives you a hard time, Frank will stop him."
"No." Adam shook his head. "I think I'm gonna be sick."
"Take a deep breath," Connie advised softly, grabbing his good hand and squeezing it gently. Julie pushed her way through to inch closer so she could wrap an arm around him, her head falling on his shoulder briefly before she kissed him on the cheek, and Adam felt his face burning hotly.
Adam inhaled deeply before exhaling, though his heart felt as though it were about to beat out of his chest as the palms of his hands grew clammy with sweat. He squeezed back at Connie's grip as Julie side-hugged him tightly again before she pulled away.
"Go kick some ass," Charlie whispered, reaching over and rubbing his shoulder as Frank called him to the stand. Swallowing back the urge to throw up, Adam took his spot on the witness stand, feeling Riley's mocking, piercing stare on him as if it were stabbing him with a thousand knives.