Trigger warning--this chapter involves sexual assault. It is a very real thing and a very serious topic. I do not take it lightly. I tried to make it as sensitive as possible. There is no really gross description or anything. I debated whether or not I should use it, but as someone who has personally experienced sexual assault, I feel like I've AT LEAST earned the right to at least use it in a story. The experience is vital to the development of my character. Like it or not, sexual assault shapes a person. It shapes my character and I am sorry if it is offensive, I tried to make it as non offensive as possible, but please skip this chapter or don't read if this is something you can't handle.
Gabby
"Just a little more blush..." Camille bites her lip in concentration as she powders my apple cheeks. "Done! Turn around!"
I swivel around and face Camille's vanity table and mirror. I look good. There's no point in denying it. Camille gave me metallic-y smokey eyes and heavy eyeliner and then played down all of my other facial features by using only neutral colors. My eyes, my best feature, demand attention. Not to mention the eyeliner wings are on fleek.
"You should seriously be a makeup artist."
"Tell me something I don't know." Camille has done the opposite for her own makeup. Her eyes have a light coat of orangish eyeshadow and she has on a bit of mascara, but she has chosen to play up her lips with a bold, red color. She looks like a model, with her clear skin and wide eyes. She's chosen a sparkly mini-dress that looks more suitable for New Year's than a back to school party, but she rocks it, as expected. I wear a flowy black top that shows off my chest but not my stomach and some boyfriend jeans and heels. Camille picked it out for me, of course, respecting my wishes for an outfit that is "sexy yet conservative."
After my date with Christopher, I don't think I'll be wearing anything tight or blatantly sexy anytime soon.
My hair is in loose waves that fall just past my breasts and Camille has her blond hair slicked back in a tight ponytail. "Look at us." She admires her work in the mirror. "We look hot."
I can't help but agree. Camille might be the conventional Victoria's Secret kind of hot, but tonight, I have my own kind of sexy girl next door look to me. Camille lets out a squeal and turns to me, giving me a little shimmy.
"Let's go rock this friggin party's socks off!"
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"Shit." I breathe when we pull up to Emily Gordon's house. The sheer size of it never fails to amaze me. I turn to Camille who is looking at herself in a compact mirror she's brought along, fixing her lipstick. "You sure they're okay with me coming?" I question, biting my lip. Emily is part of Camille's clique, not mine. In fact, she's been nothing but rude to me for as long as I can remember.
"You sure you need to be eating that, Gabs?" (When Camille, Emily, and their friends all went to a pizza parlor and I proceeded to chow the fuck down.)
"That outfit looks so...comfortable!" (First day of sophomore year when I wore my new Prada sundress that was a little too tight. Comfortable was Em's code word for ugly, I'd soon come to learn.)
"Camille, want to borrow a shirt for tonight? Sorry Gabby, I'd offer to let you borrow one, but it wouldn't fit..." (Two weeks ago, when the three of us went bar hopping.)
I have to put up with Emily for Camille's sake, but I know she wouldn't invite me to this party alone. Camille had to have put her up to it--that is, if I even am invited.
"Of course they are!" Camille promises, snapping her compact shut and turning to face me. "Serious, Gabs. Everyone loves you!"
I bite my tongue.
"Okay," Camille continues talking, "Let's go into the belly of the beast." Once we both exit her car, we link arms. "Shall we?"
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The party is in full blast once we've made it inside. Writhing bodies everywhere, a group playing beer pong to my right, and a group playing spin the bottle to my left. Loud, eardrum-bursting rap music that I'd never heard prior to this exact moment plays in large, expensive speakers. Camille is immediately ripped from my side by Emily, who begins to chatter excitedly. I definitely hear the name "Leo" in their conversation more than once.
That's right, I think to myself, Leo is hooking up with Emily too.
Sometimes I think poorly of Camille for hooking up with a guy that is obviously not being exclusive with her, but then I remember that the guy is Leo Hamilton and I understand. I know first hand how hard it is to resist his charms. Hell, the guy repeatedly fat shamed me and my dumbass still started falling for him. Camille gives me an apologetic look and mouths a quick "sorry" before being hauled off by Emily. I shrug, used to the kind of treatment that I've just been given. At least it isn't my night to drive. I am seriously feeling the need to get hammered.
I push my way through the mass of sweaty bodies, panting by the time I reach the kitchen. I'm blown away by the sheer amount of alcohol in front of me. Hundreds of bottles are being iced in metal baskets--anything ranging from Bud Light to wine bottles that you could only find in a cellar to Mike's Hard Lemonade. I take a few Mike's bottles, knowing that I'm going to need them if I plan on getting through the night. Before I know it, I've downed one bottle. And then another. And then another. Things start getting fuzzy and finally I get the sweet buzz that I've been waiting for. I down another. And then I'm officially drunk off my ass. I throw the remaining bottle on the floor and it smashes into pieces, liquid spilling everywhere. I giggle, suddenly thinking that it's the funniest thing in the world. Maybe it is. "What the fuck?" A bystander questions, but I just give her a big smile before leaving the room.
More people are here now than there were before. I can't find Camille, or Emily for that matter, anywhere. So instead I dance. And I dance. And I dance. A couple guys come grind on me and I'm too drunk off my ass to be bothered by it, so I grind right back. Someone hands me a drink and I down it greedily. It tastes a little different, stronger, so I cough a little bit. Once I'm done chugging, I look up, expecting Camille. But it's Christopher. I want to feel angry but instead, I'm strangely turned on. I flash him an award winning smile, all anger at him subsiding. Now, all of the sudden, he's the only one in the world I care to see.
"Christopher!" I slur, wrapping my arms around him. His eyes widen in surprise but he hugs back. He was probably expecting me to be mad, especially after yesterday. Shouldn't he be mad? I poured my drink on him, and humiliated him in a really nice restaurant, after all.
"How are you?" I purr, not realizing how seductive I'm sounding. Or maybe I do realize it. Maybe I like it. Maybe drunk me is a horny beast that has no standards. I really don't know the reason.
"I'm good now that I've spotted you." He gives me a wink after pulling back from our embrace. "I'm glad you're not mad at me. I'm sorry if I came on too strong."
"It's okay." I inch forward. "Maybe I liked it."
He looks confused. "You did? But you poured your drink on me?"
I belch and giggle, stumbling in my heels a little bit. I run a sloppy finger down his chest. "M-m-maybe I like to play hard to get."
"You little minx." He growls with a playful grin. "You want to go somewhere a bit quieter?"
"I'm fine here." I hiccup.
"No, come on, let's go."
He grabs my arm and leads me around the dancing, blurry bodies. I don't protest, reveling in the handsome boy's touch. He leads me down a maze of hallways and into an empty room. Something tugs at the back of my brain, it's what's left of sober Gabby, telling me that this isn't right. That I should leave. But drunk Gabby's motor skills aren't working properly.
"What did you want to talk about?" I grin so wide I think my face has permanently stretched.
"Maybe about how much of a stupid bitch you are." Christopher's face distorts, suddenly he looks anything but handsome. "Do you know how many important people were in that restaurant? My dad got a call from an investor who saw the whole thing. You humiliated me. You rejected me. Do you know how lucky you are to have even gotten that offer? How lucky you are that someone as handsome as me even wanted a fatty like you?"
I can see black tears falling in the corner of my eye. My makeup is getting ruined, but I don't care. Why would he say something so mean?
"You owe me, for embarrassing me like that." He takes a step forward, then another. I want to move but I'm feeling loopy, so I stay in place, afraid that if I shift I might faint.
"This isn't quite the setting I had in mind, but it'll do." He pins me against the wall, his sour breath fanning my face. I cringe but have no energy at all to pull away. He starts to kiss my neck. All I think about is how tired I'm getting. My eyes start to droop closed, but I'm awakened by a sharp stinging on my cheek. He slapped me. He resumes kissing me, a hand sliding up my flowy shirt. My eyes start to droop shut again and I feel pressure on my temple. And then sleep consumes me.
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Leo
"I know somewhere really secluded," Camille promises me. "When we were little, Emily and I used to hide there when my mom came to take me home. It's really...intimate."
"Lead the way." I grin. I've been in a great mood all night, especially since Gabby is nowhere to be seen. I don't know how I'd react if I saw her. Camille found me, looking sexy as sin, and now she wants a quick hookup. This night is really going just swimmingly.
Camille grabs my hand and gently tugs me down a hall, giggling and whispering dirty things. I silently thank God for this incredibly sexy woman. She whispers something that drives me particularly crazy and I can't wait anymore. I pick her up and kiss her. She wraps her legs around me and I gently slam her against the wall, causing her to moan into the kiss.
"I'm not wearing any panties." She whispers into my ear, and that's all the incentive I need to stick my hand under her dress. Then I freeze.
"Did you hear that?" I set the tiny girl in front of me down and shift to face to a closed, red door.
"I didn't hear anything."
"It sounds like crying." I hear slight whimpers from behind the door. I think of mom, all of the times I heard her crying after he hurt her. I may not have the guts to have fought him off, but I sure as Hell won't let this person suffer. I kick open the door and my stomach lurches. It's Gabby, on the bed, her eyes are shut but she's crying like she's having a nightmare. Her head is bleeding and her face is streaked with mascara. On top of her is a guy I've never seen, trying to put on a condom. Camille steps out from behind me before I can warn her not to look, and she shrieks. The guy looks up, his eyes widening before he hops off of Gabby like she's on fire.
"This isn't what it looks like, I swear." He puts his hands up.
"Really? Because it looks like you were about to rape my best friend, douchebag!" Camille snaps, storming towards him and slapping him as hard as she can. He recoils, clutching his face. All I can see now is red. He hurt Gabby. He hurt my Gabby. Before he can fully recover, and before I know what I'm doing, I storm towards him and my fist flies into his face. I hear a satisfying crack. The guy crumples to the floor. I turn to Camille who is desperately trying to cover her friend with sheets. I look to my left to see a crowd forming in the room.
"Wake up, please, Gabby!" Camille is sobbing and I get a good look at the girl laying lifeless on the bed. She has a cut on her forehead but it doesn't look bad or like it'll need stitches. She's not dressed, something I only just now notice, but Camille has covered up anything indecent. She's passed out cold, but is still crying even in her state of unconsciousness.
Camille turns to me. "I shouldn't have left her alone. She didn't even want to come. Do you think he..."
"No." I snap, "no way. He was putting on a condom. I don't think he did it, but I think he was about to." God, if he did...if he hurt Gabby...
"We need to call the cops." She sobs, pushing back some of Gabby's hair that has covered her face. The touch seems to break Gabby out of her deep sleep because she bolts up and promptly pukes her guts out.
Camille lets out a relieved sob. "Oh, Gabby. Are you okay? I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
Gabby gives her a confused look and then spots me. "What's he doing here?" She slurs, rolling her eyes.
"She's still wasted." Camille realizes. "Maybe she won't remember this."
I give her a reassuring nod, but I know first hand that it's the stuff like this that you never forget.
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Gabby
When I wake up, the first thing I notice is the air vent. It's whirring and I really want it to stop. The second thing I notice is that I'm in a hospital room. Fantastic.
"Gabby!" Camille grins. I hadn't noticed her sitting beside my bed. She looks flawless, even though her hair is tied back in a loose bun and she's not wearing any makeup. I want, more than anything, to look like her. "You're awake!"
I grimace. "And you're loud."
She giggles, but then her facial expression shifts into a somber one. "Do you...do you remember?"
"I remember."
"The rape kit came back negative. They...they found drugs in your system, though. Like...date rape drugs. Did he give you a drink, Gabs? When Leo and I found him...he was so close to..." she looks down, tears running down her face. "The important thing is that he didn't."
I sigh, a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. I'm glad I'm still a virgin. And yet, some sick part of me is flattered that Christopher tried. Because that means he wanted me so bad he thought I was worth jail time. I would never tell anyone that. But this is proof that I'm desirable.
"He hit you really hard." Camille continues when I don't speak up. "They've arrested him. He's going to jail."
"Good." I look down at my chewed fingernails and fidget with them. I don't want to think about what happened. I got lucky--most girls don't.
Or did I get lucky? I may not have been physically raped, but it was pretty damn close. If no one had walked in, I would have been. I was powerless.
I was powerless.