by T. T. Kove
“Yeah, yeah.”
He shuffled his feet again.
“Nervous habit?” I asked as I bent down to pick up my shoes.
He shrugged.
“Aren’t you going to wear those?” He eyed my shoes.
“I can’t walk properly in them.” The ground was freezing cold against my bare skin though, but maybe I could run home. That way I’d keep warm.
I started over the grass—and he followed me.
“Shitty thing about being a girl is you’re expected to walk in high heels.” I didn’t know why I started talking about heels, but I needed to say something. “It looks good. Sexy and all that, for sure, but it’s hell on the feet.”
I pulled my dress further down. It had ridden up a bit as I sat on the bench, and I wanted to shield as much skin as possible from the cold breeze.
He came up on my side. His hands were buried in his pockets again and his shoulders were hunched against the cold wind.
“Do blokes always enjoy it?” There I went again, running my mouth off with silly topics of conversation. “No matter what the girl feels, do you always think it’s good?” My ex hadn’t much cared about me—which was why I hadn’t put out for him long before I dumped him.
“I don’t know. I guess.” He shrugged again. He seemed to do that a lot.
“I guess as long as you get to put it in, you’re all happy.”
“Hey, don’t judge all guys alike.”
I took a step closer to him. My shoulder brushed his upper arm lightly. “You’re not like that?”
He tilted his head back to look skywards. “Why are we even talking about this?”
“We can talk about something else.” But what?
We’d crossed the stretch of grass now and were out on the pavement, heading upwards out of the city centre.
But it was more difficult to walk there. The ground was hard, and cold, and small pebbles scattered around that hurt when I stepped on them.
“Hop on,” he said.
“What?” I turned my head to him.
“My back.” He turned his back to me. “I’ll carry you.”
“You don’t have to do that.” But it was so tempting.
“I want to. You’ll hurt yourself, and you need your feet for your dancing, don’t you?”
“How do you know I dance?”
We weren’t even in the same programme at school. He took general studies, while I did dance. We had all the regular general studies courses as well, which was why I shared an elective—German—with him. But still.
He only shrugged, so no information to get there.
“Ow!” I’d stepped on another pebble, and I bent down to brush it off the sole of my foot.
“Come on. Let me help you.”
I hesitated, but the offer was too good to pass up. I jumped onto his back, wrapped my arms loosely around his neck and settled my knees on either side of his waist.
“Put me down if I’m too heavy, okay?”
“Heavy? You?” He laughed.
I rolled my eyes, but didn’t comment. I knew I wasn’t tall, that I was thin to the point of being skinny. But I was fit. I ate well, I worked out, I danced every day. I was in good shape.
He slid his arms under my thighs, down to my knees, to keep me secure. His calloused hands against my bare skin felt surprisingly good.
Not that it should, especially not now, tonight, when I was freaking out about what might or might not have happened at that after-party.
Why did I let Iselin drag me there? I should’ve just gone home after the bar closed.
I rested my head against the back of his, letting my eyes fall closed as his movements lulled me into a light dose.
Everyone said he was dangerous, but he wasn’t.
Right now he was safe.
If I wasn’t so bloody cold, I would’ve fallen asleep like that, on his back, clinging to him as he brought me home. But I was cold, and it was hard to forget about when the wind teased against my bare skin.
“You have to give me directions,” he said. “I don’t know where you live.”
“Just continue straight ahead.”
My whole body trembled, but at least his back was warm against my front. It was the rest of me that was a problem.
“Turn in here,” I said after a while, and he did. “I live right down the street.”
We came upon my house, all big and white and dark. Everyone was asleep by now.
I slid down his back, stumbling a little as my feet made contact with the ground.
“Easy there.” He steadied me.
I started making my way up the driveway—and he stayed close behind me until I was safely up the stairs and right in front of the door.
That’s when I realised my big mistake.
“Shit.”
“What?” He cocked his head curiously.
“I don’t have my key. It’s in my jacket, and it’s—I couldn’t find it.”
He looked up at the dark windows. “Is anyone home? If you ring the bell long enough, they’re bound to wake up, right?”
I swallowed. “My uncle’s at work. Maybe Ben’s home.” I pressed the bell.
Dammit. How could I be so stupid as to not look for my jacket? It had my mobile in it too! And my wallet. It had everything.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Why can’t this be a weekend when Alex and Leo are around?” I muttered, pressing the doorbell again. “Ben’s probably off shagging Tarjei.”
He raised his eyebrows at me.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s what he does.”
“Shag people?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“He your brother?”
“Cousin.” I pressed the bell again, quick, then again and again. “We’ve got no extra keys, because Thomas gave one to Alex, and he hasn’t bothered getting new ones.”
He shook his head with a small, rueful smile. “I have no idea who any of those people are.”
“Thomas is my uncle. Alex is my brother’s boyfriend. He’s off at school. He comes back at weekends, usually together with his brother, but of course they’re not here this weekend.”
The steps were cold and I shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot. “Dammit, Ben!” I held the doorbell in.
“Can you ring someone?”
“I don’t have my mobile.” I closed my eyes, frustrated beyond relief and slowly freezing to death.
“Here.” He held his mobile out to me.
“I don’t know anyone’s number,” I muttered, glaring at the phone. Those days where I could rattle of any number but my own was over. Every single contact was saved on my phone—I never looked at the number itself anymore.
“Maria.” He gave me a look I interpreted as how daft can you be. It didn’t help my plummeting mood. “We live in modern ages. Search them up.”
Oh right.
I took his phone from him, went online, and searched up the yellow pages. There I searched for Ben, and when his number came up, I clicked it.
“What?” he answered grumpily on the fifth ring.
“Are you home?” My voice turned an octave too high in my panic. He had to be home.
“For fuck’s sake.”
“Please, Ben, I’m locked out. It’s freezing out here.” I jumped now, up and down, trying to keep the little warmth I had left in me.
He groaned loudly, clearly not happy.
“Give me a minute. I’ll be up.”
“Thank you!”
He hung up on me without another word.
I handed the phone back. “Thanks, Roar.”
He stared at me. “He’s coming to let you in?”
I nodded. “He wasn’t happy about it, but he is.”
“So you’re fine from here?”
“Yeah.”
He smiled, then took a step down the stairs. “That’s it then.”
“But—” He didn’t have anywhere to go. “Do you want to come in? Spend the night? If you can’t go home
…” I trailed off, not sure what I was going to say.
He looked down at the display of his mobile. “He’s likely passed out now, so it’s safe for me to sneak in.”
I didn’t want him to go.
The realisation hit me straight in the gut. “What about your hoodie?” I grabbed the front of it.
He smiled ruefully up at me. He was already down the stairs and in the driveway now. “Hold onto it for me.”
With that he walked off.
I stared after his back, at how he huddled in his jacket. I should’ve insisted he take his hoodie back, so he wouldn’t be cold. I was about to be let inside, after all, whereas he had a whole walk back home.
I didn’t even know where he lived.
The door unlocked and opened behind me.
“Blimey, Maria.” Ben’s sleepy face appeared. His hair stuck up in all directions. “What the hell are you doing out so late? And getting yourself locked out?”
“I lost my jacket.”
I slipped past him inside.
He eyed me, a bit more awake now. “That’s all you’re wearing? Who’s jumper is that?”
“Someone who took pity on me.” I stared down at the baggy hoodie, then hugged my arms close and breathed in the scent of his cologne.
“Go take a hot shower before you sleep. Or you’ll end up sick.” He brushed past me. “Good night. And don’t wake me until noon, please.” He waved a sleepy hand, then disappeared down to the basement.
I took the stairs two at a time until I reached the landing upstairs. I took his advice and showered, then dressed in pyjamas—and Roar’s hoodie—before I climbed into bed.
Once I’d tucked my duvet properly around me and lay curled up, I allowed myself to think about what had happened earlier in the night. About what I couldn’t remember.
Shit.
Maybe Roar was right.
Maybe I should’ve gone to the police.
But it was too late now. I’d already showered.
3
The Morning After
I woke Sunday morning to a severe case of anxiety.
What hadn’t quite crawled up on me the night before, as I’d still been drunk and freezing and crying, now dawned on me full force.
What happened last night?
What did I do?
What didn’t I do?
Was I forced into anything?
Not knowing wreaked havoc with me, and I curled up further in my bed, drawing my duvet tight around me.
Damn it all to hell and back.
How could I have been so careless? I never drank too much, I never had blackouts, I never had random sex with people I didn’t know.
That wasn’t me.
And yet I’d done it. Or possibly done it, anyway.
Or even worse… I’d been raped.
But no, if I’d been raped, I certainly would’ve felt that right? Girls who were raped weren’t aroused by it, so all the natural lubricant didn’t happen during a sexual assault. Thus, it would hurt afterwards.
I didn’t hurt. Nothing at all felt different.
I inched a hand under the duvet, slipped it under the hem of my pyjama trousers, and under my panties. Then I tentatively touched myself, feeling for something. Something out of place… if it hurt.
But nothing felt out of place, nothing hurt.
So I probably wasn’t assaulted. That doesn’t mean I had sex, but that I likely had it willingly.
Sex with Jakob. Why had my drunken self ever thought that would be a good idea? His girlfriend was a raging bitch—not to mention one of the more popular girls in school and our year’s russ president.
I did not want to get into any drama.
Not to mention, my jacket was still missing, along with my wallet and mobile. I should get up and do something about that, close my payment plan and shit, but I couldn’t be arsed.
Even if I was pretty sure I hadn’t been raped, the possibility was still there. And it terrified me, especially as I didn’t remember anything.
What had I done?
I’d clearly taken all my clothes of. Had I done it myself? Or had he? If I’d done it myself, had I been the one who’d been forceful towards him? Had I sexually assaulted him?
If not, if we’d both been into it… now what?
Jakob was hot, sure, but… I couldn’t imagine pursuing anything more with him. I didn’t want to have sex with him either—and if I had had sex with him, it surely wouldn’t happen again.
There is one last possibility…
That we hadn’t had sex at all. But was that plausible when we’d been naked? Or I’d been naked, all I’d seen of him was his bare chest. But I was willing to bet that he’d had nothing on underneath the duvet.
“Dammit!”
I drew the duvet up to cover my face, muffling a frustrated sound in it.
Someone knocked on my door.
“Maria? Are you awake?”
I froze.
It was Iselin.
“Yeah, come in.” I pushed myself up into a sitting position, but instantly regretted it as my stomach protested wildly.
Iselin came in, gaze lighting up as she saw me.
“Could you get me a bucket?” I asked, as I felt the bile slowly rise.
Her eyes widened, but she dropped something she’d been holding to the floor, and all but ran out of the room.
She returned with a bucket, and she just managed to thrust it in front of me as the vomit erupted from my throat. I clung to the bucket as I threw up and retched and threw up again.
“Damn, Maria.” She stroked my long, blonde hair away from my face, holding it up and out of the way of the bucket and my puke. “How much did you have to drink last night?”
Way too much. But I was too busy retching on an empty stomach to manage to give her an answer.
Once I stopped being sick, I fell back down on the bed. I wrapped my duvet around me again and groaned miserably.
Iselin disappeared with the bucket, then came back with a glass of water she made me sip at.
“I’m never drinking again,” I pledged.
“So they all say.” She smiled down at me. “So where’d you go last night? You disappeared on me. I figured you went home without telling me. Without your jacket and everything.”
I blinked at her, then slowly turned my head to look at what she’d dropped on the floor when she first came in.
It was my jacket.
“You took my jacket with you?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t find you, so I figured you went home. I took it with me so you wouldn’t lose it.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, grateful for the fact she’d thought of me. Still, I hadn’t gone home, had I? I didn’t know what I’d done, besides ended up in bed with Jakob.
“Do you want me to get you some painkillers? Or something to eat? It might help.”
Iselin was sweet. She always was. Sweet, kind Iselin, who’d been my best friend for years.
“I don’t think I can stomach anything.” My stomach roiled by the simple thought. “I’ll just stay here. Sleep the day away. Hopefully I feel better tomorrow. If not, I’m so skipping school.”
She tilted her head to the side. “I didn’t see you drink that much. We stayed together for a while, and you only had cider with me.”
Yes, that was right. So where I had got hold of stronger stuff? Because surely I’d had to got hold of it, with my blackout and all.
Some flashes ran through my mind, of being handed a glass with something clear in it. Of Jakob smiling. But I had no idea if he’d been the one to give me that glass or not.
“I wish we’d never gone to that after-party.”
Iselin raised her eyebrows. “Are you feeling that bad? I admit not much happened there, mostly we just sat around talking and drinking, but it was fun. Meeting new people, I mean.”
Now that Nik, my other best friend, had moved away, I spent all my time with Iselin. We were loners, we didn’t have a group of friends aro
und us. It was just the two of us.
“I thought you didn’t like people,” I muttered into my pillow. God, but I felt so miserable!
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It was okay. The people at that party were nice. Who knows, maybe some of them will actually talk to me at school tomorrow.”
Iselin did general studies. Speaking of which, wasn’t she in the same class as Jakob and Roar? Because they were in the same class… weren’t they?
Roar…
I couldn’t believe I’d shared everything with him. Everything of last night, the fact that I might’ve been sexually assaulted—or voluntarily had sex.
Our conversation had been so intimate. Why the hell had I shared intimate details about myself with him?
No one ever talked to Roar, he was bad news.
“Weren’t you talking to Jakob last night?” she asked then.
I only groaned, as I definitely did not want to talk about Jakob.
“I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to him, even if we’re in the same class and all.” She pursed her lips. “There was this one time we sat together during history, but he didn’t say anything at all to me. He’s so shy, you know?”
Like most girls, Iselin also found Jakob extremely handsome. If she’d had the chance I had last night, would she have had sex with him?
“I don’t know,” was all I said. “I don’t remember.”
Now she frowned. “Damn, you really had a lot to drink, didn’t you?”
“Mmhmm.”
Way too much.
Never, ever again.
“I’ll let you sleep then. And I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?” She stood and brushed down her jumper. Then she bent to retrieve my jacket and hang it over my desk chair. “It’s all in there. Wallet and phone, so don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you, Is. You’re the best.” She truly was.
“Feel better, Maria.” She smiled warmly. “If you need anything, ring me. If not, I’ll see you at school.” She lifted her hand in a wave, and I made a floppy-motion back.
She closed the door after her, leaving me all alone in silence.
Now she was gone, everything else came crashing back. Everything from last night. My confusion and panic about what happened with Jakob, and my mortification from everything I’d told Roar.
