NORMAL

by Danielle Pearl

  "So Foster can dictate to me about my life, but I can't call him out on his? Especially when he's usin' my own sister?" His tone is still so quiet and it's unnerving. I know I should probably concede, but I just can't.

  "But you're not worried about Lacey, you were just trying to be a jerk to them both," I argue. It was the wrong thing to say. I know that immediately. His eyes narrow and I try to step back, but he holds firm.

  Robin leans in close to my ear. "You do not tell me what I can or can't say. And you don't question me, and you definitely will watch what you fuckin' call me. You got that, Rory?" His tone is calm and deathly quiet. I'd prefer he yell. Robin pulls back just far enough to meet my eyes. His face is red, and I don’t know if it's with drink or anger, but he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

  I swallow nervously and nod. I shouldn't have called him a jerk. He's never called me a name. I wait to see what he'll do or say next. I half expect him to tell me he's done with me. He watches me, as if to see if he accepts my agreement to his demands.

  Finally he nods. He releases my arm, which throbs painfully, but I don't move. Robin brings his hand to my face and brushes my cheek with his knuckles, and just like that, he's gentle again.

  "You know I care about you, right?" he asks.

  I nod again. I want to ask him what that means. But now's not the time. "I'm sorry, Robin. I shouldn't have said-"

  He shakes his head. "No, sweetheart. That's all sorted out. Let's get back to our friends," he decides, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. He picks up our hands and kisses my knuckles, our squabble forgotten. I hope.

  ****

  "Hey Sleepin' Beauty," Robin whispers.

  I don't know what time it is, but it's late. We got home almost an hour ago and I'm back in the upstairs guest room after changing into my pajamas and washing up. Robin already kissed me goodnight before I came upstairs. I didn't even hear him come in. I sit up in bed.

  "Hey, what are you doin'?" I ask. His lips make a beeline for my neck.

  "I missed you, sweetheart." His lips find mine and he kisses me sloppily. He sure drank enough tonight. "Real bad." He grins wickedly.

  I laugh. "I missed you, too," I whisper.

  We kiss for a while and he leans me back on the bed, hovering over me. It makes me nervous, but he's still just kissing me, so I go with it.

  When his hand starts inching toward my chest, I push it back to my waist, as usual. But he's more persistent than he normally is, and suddenly, he grips both of my wrists in one hand and pins them above my head.

  "Robin..."

  He silences me with a kiss, and his free hand takes full advantage, fondling my chest as I squirm beneath him to try and buck him off. But Robin mistakes my squirming for something else. He groans. I turn away from his kiss, but he just moves his lips down my neck to the bit of cleavage that shows above my neckline.

  "Robin!"

  "You're so fuckin' hot, sweetheart," he murmurs against my skin.

  "Please stop," I beg.

  "Mmmm..."

  He's not listening to me. Instead, he silences me with another kiss, though I still try to talk, to beg him to slow down, to stop. His hand starts pushing its way under my shorts, and I panic. He's not stopping.

  I bite him.

  "You wanna get rough, sweetheart?" he growls, and starts kissing me even harder. I can barely breathe. I scream at him to please stop again, but it just comes out as a mumble. I know he can't make out my words with his tongue in my mouth.

  He pushes his hand between my legs and I close them tightly, but it just traps his hand there and he keeps rubbing.

  My eyes water, tears spilling down my cheeks in torrents. He's not stopping! He's never not stopped before.

  Finally he removes his grip on my wrists and I shove him off of me the moment my hands are freed. Robin is startled. His weight is now on his hands and knees instead of me, and I sit up under him.

  "What the fuck?" he barks as I scoot away from him, back against the headboard, and clamp my knees together tightly. "Are you... are you crying?"

  I can't speak, I'm still gasping for air, and I can't stop the tears that stream down my cheeks. Robin sits back on his heels and shoves his hand through his hair. He looks me over again like he's just seeing me for the first time. I'm completely frozen.

  "Fuck, Rory, I'm sorry. I thought you were into it," he murmurs.

  I let out one sob before clenching my jaw shut and shaking my head. No I was not fucking into it!

  Robin looks stricken. He leans forward and I flinch, which startles him again.

  "No, sweetheart... Fuck, I'm sorry!" He wipes the tears from my cheeks with his knuckles and then draws me into his arms. I can't think straight. He comforts me while I calm down, then pulls me away from him to meet my eyes. "You need to forgive me sweetheart. Don't be mad, okay? I thought you were into it. You know I'd never pressure you, right?"

  I hesitate, but then nod, though that felt a hell of a lot like pressure to me.

  "It's just, it's been three months. And you're not just some girl, you drive me crazy. You're so fuckin' hot. And I'm a man, you know?" He's giving me some explanation, and I get what he's saying, and maybe I should be ready to do more. But I'm just not.

  "I'm just... I'm not ready." I say the words. I've said them before. But he's right, it's been three months. I think he'll probably break up with me. I should ask him about our status, but again, the timing feels all wrong.

  Robin nods. "I'm sorry, okay? You need to forgive me," he says again. It's not even a question, but I can feel his remorse. "You know I care about you, right?"

  That same question. I nod again.

  Robin kisses me, but it's back to his sweet, gentle kiss. "Go to bed, Sleepin' Beauty. I'll take you to lunch tomorrow to make it up to you." He kisses my forehead and leaves, closing my door softly behind him.

  It's forever before I can fall asleep. My mind is reeling. I hated feeling so powerless. I can't understand why he didn't stop when I'd asked. I get that he must've not heard me, that he thought I was kissing him back, but I can't get over that feeling. Feeling out of control of my own body, and the person who was in control just wasn't listening to me.

  I've never been touched there before. I've never even touched myself there. I didn't like it, and I wonder if that's just because I was so caught up in my fear in those moments or if there really is something wrong with me. Why am I still not ready to do anything more than kiss?

  ****

  The next day is perfect. I eat breakfast with the whole Forbes' family and then go with Lacey to get manicures. Afterwards, she drops me off at Cal's Coffee Shop to have lunch with Robin. He's a perfect gentleman - opening doors and pulling out chairs. He's also affectionate, holding my hand and kissing my knuckles. He says pretty things, and last night is all but forgotten.

  Tonight I'm going to a movie with the girls while Robin has plans with his buddies. Cam has called me no less than three times since last night to "check" on me. It's the first weekend I've spent anywhere but at his place while my parents were out of town. It's also the first time I've spent the night at the Forbes' since I started seeing Robin. Cam was concerned when I told him I'd be sleeping over, but I brushed it off. Now I get his concern.

  Robin's still out when we get home from the movies. I change and climb into bed, but can't sleep. I'm still apprehensive from last night.

  Sometime after midnight my door swings open. I hold my breath.

  "You up, Sleepin' Beauty?" Robin drawls.

  I don't move. I keep my eyes closed thinking about what I should do. My bed dips when he sits down next to me. I feel his finger sweep the hair from my face and I can feel his warm breath as he leans over and presses a soft kiss to my forehead.

  Robin doesn't leave. Instead, he curls into bed with me, but over the covers, and spoons behind me. It feels kind of nice, but I'm still anxious. His lips brush my cheek.

  "Please don't still be mad at me, sweetheart," he whispers,
and he sounds so sincere that I open my eyes. He doesn't notice.

  Robin sits up, but before he can leave, I stop him.

  "Hey," I whisper.

  He turns to me with an uncertain smile. "Didn't mean to wake you," he murmurs.

  I sit up. "You come to say goodnight?" I ask.

  His smile shifts into a grin and he nods. When I don't say anything more, Robin leans in and kisses me. It's soft and sweet, and as his tongue slides tentatively into my mouth, I welcome it. I don't smell any liquor on him, and it's a relief. His scent is different than I'm used to though. His fingers thrust into my hair and he holds my mouth to his, but his hands don't roam even a little.

  Robin ends the kiss and then pulls away. "'Night, sweetheart."

  He stands and leaves, and only as I'm starting to fall asleep do I realize that the strange scent that clung to him was a woman's perfume.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Present Day

  Sam pretended like Tuesday night in the school library never happened and I'm grateful for it. I've tried not to dwell on it too much. Tonight is my therapy session so I can wait until then to process how it is that the one thing that terrifies me most of all - being overpowered by a man, even if it was just by a hug - is what managed to quell a full blown panic attack with the help of just a few whispered words of comfort. At the moment I'm mostly concerned about calc. Tomorrow is the big test and I'm still struggling with some of the material, but Sam has assured me he'll have me ready.

  I run through the rain to my jeep since it's my turn to drive to lunch today, but as I'm sitting in the driver's seat I find I can't move. I have issues driving in the rain, so I ask Carl if she doesn't mind driving and she agrees without question. Carl has noticed some of my issues, though she hasn't seen anything close to an attack. I've told her I went through some things last year that I'm still dealing with - the same thing I initially told Sam - and she's been sympathetic. It's good to have real friends, and while no one can ever replace what Cam and I had, I've never in my life had girl friends who I actually believed cared about me. It's not something I take for granted.

  I step out to let Carl into the driver's seat, and Sam catches me as I'm walking around my car to tell me he has to drive his sister to a doctor's appointment after school so he can't meet me in the library. I call back to him that I'll text him to figure it out and hastily jump into the passenger seat before I can get totally drenched.

  As Carl drives to the diner I pull out my phone.

  What about calc test? I text Sam.

  I can meet you after.

  But I have my therapy session at five thirty.

  Before I can reply, we pull up to the diner and I see that Sam is getting out of Andrew's car with Tuck and Dave so I run over to him.

  "Damn, Ror," he murmurs as he shrugs off his jacket and holds it over both our heads to protect us from the rain. "Don't you have a jacket or an umbrella or something?" he chides.

  "No, Dad, it's just a little rain," I tease, and we both tense, aware that "Dads" are a sensitive subject for both of us, and the truth is that rain is a sensitive one for me. What isn't a sensitive subject for me?

  Once under the awning Sam shakes out his soaked jacket and I wait for him.

  "I have a doctor's appointment at five thirty. I can't miss it," I say.

  "I gotta drive Bits at four and pick her up at five," he replies.

  "'Bits' is some nickname," I observe and Sam elbows me.

  "Hey. I couldn't say 'Beth' when she was born. I was only three, I called her 'Bits'. It kind of stuck, give me a break, will ya?"

  I laugh. At least it's a reasonable explanation.

  "So you wanna meet up at like seven? You could come over for dinner. My mom will be there, and Bits would love to meet you," he offers as he pulls the door and holds it open for me.

  I consider it. If it's a family dinner then we won't be alone, and really, after my freak out in the library, the fact is, Sam's had me alone. If he wanted to do something about it, take advantage of it in some way, he could have already. It's clear he has no romantic or sexual interest in me. No, he's not attracted to me. But, of course, I already know this, he's made it abundantly clear since day one that he's only wanted me as a friend, and this should comfort me, I know. I ignore the small pang of disappointment that tightens my chest and remind myself that friendship is all I want, too. It's all I can handle. That’s if you can call accusing him of luring me down to a pond to have exhibitionist sex, and now, of intentionally trapping me in a deserted library, "handling it". For the millionth time I wonder why he wants me as a friend in the first place. Maybe there's something wrong with him.

  And how fucked up is it that I'm searching for some flaw to explain Sam wanting to be my friend?

  I can't believe that I'm beginning to trust a guy, but I am. I also try not to dwell on the fact that if his sister would want to meet me, it means he's mentioned me. Why this pleases me, I don't know. We are friends. It's normal that he'd have mentioned me in passing. I only hope it wasn't in a passing conversation about how I freaked out and more or less accused him of trying to trap and assault me.

  The truth is I'm curious about his sister. In fact, I'm curious to learn anything I can about Sam. After all, he knows more about me than anyone besides my mother and my psychiatrist. Dinner at his house doesn't sound like such a bad idea.

  "Okay, but you better get me ready for that test," I warn, teasingly poking him in his chest with my index finger. Damn, it's muscular. Like the rest of him.

  "Yeah?" he asks hopefully.

  "Yeah," I confirm, and Sam grins triumphantly.

  It was barely over a month ago that I told him I couldn't handle being at his house even with his family there, and I know he knows there's significance in the fact that I'm agreeing to do just that. He doesn't say anything more about it though. Instead, he casually slings an arm around my shoulders as we both scan the diner for our respective groups of friends.

  "There," Sam nods in the direction of a booth where our friends seem to have decided to eat together and starts leading me toward them.

  I don't think anything of Sam's arm around me until Carl gives me a surreptitious suspicious look, silently accusing me of having a secret affair with Sam. I roll my eyes before scooting in next to her in the booth, Sam following close behind me.

  It's only two minutes later that Chelsea walks in with her friend Lily, and Dave calls out for them to join us.

  And they do.

  Chelsea slides in next to Sam and we all scoot over to make room. Dave gets up and grabs a chair, situating it at the head of the table to make room for Lily.

  Carl and Tuck flirtatiously tease each other while Chelsea chats away with Sam, careful to hold all of his attention. Andrew eats with one hand so he can keep Tina tucked close with an arm around her. Dave is making eyes at Lily, who's batting her eyelashes and flipping her hair, obviously receptive to whatever it is Dave is offering.

  Suddenly I feel like the odd man out. Invisible again. And for some reason, right now, it bothers me.

  They're all talking about spring break. Apparently Sam's uncle is high up in the corporate food chain at the W hotel group and is hooking everyone up with luxury accommodations - not standard high school spring breaker lodgings. I knew Sam's family was wealthy, but this is some hook up. An image of Chelsea in a string bikini flirting with a shirtless Sam on the beach flashes through my mind unbidden.

  "I think I might have changed my mind about coming," I blurt without thinking.

  Holy shit. What is wrong with me?

  Carl shrieks excitedly and Chelsea fakes a pleased smile, but Sam is the first to speak. "Really?" he asks.

  I shrug. "I've been thinking about what you said. About only being a senior once." I immediately regret this sudden outburst. Especially this last part where I've just admitted, in front of Chelsea no less, that Sam tried to convince me to come, and she's irked, I can tell. Way to stay off her radar, Rory.

  "Co
me, Ror. It'll be fun, I promise," Sam says.

  "I don't know if my mom will let me," I backtrack, though it is the truth. "And this close to break I doubt there will be any hotel rooms or flights..."

  "You can stay with me and Tina. Tina will probably be staying in Andy's room anyway," Carl teases and Tina blushes and yanks Carl's ponytail in retaliation.

  "I, uh, would need my own room... sleep issues," I explain with a shrug.

  "Who's sleeping?" Carl replies, "It's spring break! We're there to party, not sleep!"

  I roll my eyes, but under the table, unseen by the others, Sam squeezes my knee. I meet his gaze.

  "I'll take care of it," he breathes into my ear.

  He has no way of knowing about my nightmares, but somehow he understands how important it is for me to have my own hotel room. That is if I do convince my mom to let me go, and that's only if I myself decide I really do want to go.

  Carl and Tina spend the rest of lunch trying to convince me to come while Chelsea begins giving detailed descriptions of the swimsuits she's purchased in what is, to me at least, a transparent attempt at hoarding Sam's attention. Sam's disinterest is infinitely pleasing to me.

  I'm embarrassed when, out of nowhere, Chelsea asks why I don't change in the locker room for phys-ed, the one class I have with her. I notice Sam glare at her, but I just shrug.

  "I prefer to change in the bathroom. Privacy," I murmur. Carl tries to change the subject but Chelsea persists.

  "But there are bathroom stalls in the locker room, of course," she interrupts Carl. I don't know what she's playing at but it's clear she's trying to put me on the spot, likely for Sam's benefit. But if she's trying to show Sam that there's something wrong with me, the joke's on her. He already knows.

  "We should get back to school," Sam says in a blatant attempt to blow Chelsea off. He even turns so his back to her. "I'll see you at my house for dinner, Rory?" he confirms.

  I nod. I know he was trying to make some point in defense of me, but what that point was, I don't know. That will just have pissed her off more, and while some small part of me does get some satisfaction over having Sam make a point of showing Chelsea that I'm his friend, most of me just wishes he'd left it at we should get back to school.