Читать книгу I Am Nobody. Confronting the Sexually Abusive Coach Who Stole My Life онлайн

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I don’t remember things like what he was wearing or what we ate, the kind of things you think would be etched in my memory. I do remember looking down as he went on and on about me, breaking eye contact with him out of embarrassment, and seeing a stain on my hockey team jacket next to the team crest and worrying that he would see that stain and think I was a slob for having spilled milk on it earlier and not cleaning it properly.

Mostly, I remember getting up from the table and feeling almost dizzy, slightly removed from the situation while thinking that this couldn’t be happening. How lucky was I? How cool was this? It was amazing.

And of course, I had a long time to think about it because I walked home. It wouldn’t be right, he said, for us to be seen together. And he told me to keep our contact secret—something he would reiterate at each of our meetings.

I thought it had been one of the best days of my life.

WE CONTINUED TO meet at the same restaurant every few weeks or so for a few months.