Page 37 of Played
"I felt so cool, you know? The older kids actually wanted me there. I wore my favorite top, these ripped jeans I'd customized myself. Packed a few coolers. It was perfect. Warm summer night, stars everywhere."
I set the jeans down and stare at my hands.
"I drank. Chatted. Had a few puffs of some girl's joint. Felt buzzed and happy and alive. Then Marco showed up."
Daniel shifts on the bed.
"Marco was Ethan's friend. Nineteen. Gorgeous. Charming. I'd had this stupid crush on him forever, but he never looked at me twice. That night, though, he finally saw me. Came right up to me, all smiles, started talking like I was the only person at that party."
My throat tightens.
"He had this cooler full of booze. Gave me two Mike's Hard Lemonades. I know I shouldn't have drunk them on top of what I'd already had, but I was sixteen and stupid and desperate to impress him."
I pick up another sweater and crush it against my chest.
"He took me for a walk. Led me away from everyone, deep into the bush where no one could see. Pushed me against a tree. Kissed me."
Daniel's breathing changes.
"It wasn't my first kiss, but I was inexperienced. And when he shoved his hand down my pants, when I said no, when I tried to push him away—"
My voice cracks.
"He told me I wanted it. That I'd been begging for it all night with my tight jeans and flirty smile. He ripped my favorite top. Pushed me to the ground, and held me down. And when Iscreamed, he covered my mouth and told me to shut the fuck up. I tried to fight him off, but I was completely wasted."
Daniel is without words as he listens.
"It was horrible,” I go on. “The worst thing that had ever happened to me. It hurt like hell, yes, but it was more than that... it wrecked me. I felt completely powerless lying in the dirt, pinned down, unable to make it stop, no matter how hard I tried. And after... God, after that was almost worse. I felt dirty, like I could never get clean no matter how many showers I took, how hard I scrubbed my skin. I felt ruined, like something precious had been stolen from me and I'd never get it back. For months, I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without seeing what he'd done. For years…"
I look at Daniel now. Really look at him.
I hear footsteps in the hallway. Reeves and Greg are back.
I cross to the bedroom door and shut it. I turn the lock—the click is loud in the quiet room.
Daniel looks up, surprised. I'm not afraid of him. He thinks this is all for show, that I'm being dramatic, that eventually I'll come crawling back because who else would want damaged goods like me?
"What happened next?" His voice is softer now, almost gentle. The voice he used when we first started dating. "Did you report it?"
"No." I lean against the door. "My mother and Ethan told me not to."
His eyebrows shoot up. "What?"
"I went to them crying, bleeding, terrified. Told them everything. And you know what they said?" I laugh, bitter. "That I'd willingly gone into the woods with him. That I'd been drinking. That it would just be my word against his, and everyone would think I was asking for it anyway."
"Jesus."
"Ethan was protecting himself, really. Didn't want to be kicked out of his precious friend group. Didn't want the drama. And my mother..." I shake my head. "She actually said, 'this kind of thing happens with boys sometimes.’ Like it was normal. Like I should just accept it and move on."
Daniel stands, furious. "That's insane. The bastard got away with it?"
"Yes." I meet his eyes. "And no."
He goes still.
"I never told you this story," I continue, "because I didn't want to relive it. Didn't want your pity or your questions or your judgment. But you asked me once why I don't talk to my mom much. Why Ethan and I are distant even though he doesn't live that far away. Now you know."
"Why are you telling me now?"
