Curve

by Nicola Hudson

“Here you go.” He opened the door and gave me a brief tour of the shared spaces. I was surprised at how light, and clean, the place was. He paused outside a closed door. “This is my room.” He pushed the door and let me go in first.

  The room was more like the flat of a young professional than a typical student’s room. Although it was painted that boring cream colour that all rented places seem to be, and housed a matching selection of cheap furniture, Flynn’s belongings made it seem more personal, and grown up. The walls were bare, apart from a framed poster from a 1960’s music festival. The bedding and curtains were dark grey and he had obviously brought his own steel shelving unit to house his books and DVDs, lines of which were broken up by photos in frames and quirky ornaments. Looking closely, I could see that these were things that had been chosen for sentimental significance, rather than their aesthetic value: a toy Ferrari, a mini guitar, a Lego house. It all explained why his room at home had seemed so impersonal. I was surprised to see that there was a photo of me and Neve.

  “When did you get this?” I asked.

  “Neve got me to take it on my phone just before you went out for her seventeenth, remember?” I vaguely recalled an already tipsy Neve ordering him to take a picture of us ‘in our prime’ as she put it. And then I remembered what he had written about Neve’s seventeenth in his email and blushed. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. “Do you want a coffee or a Coke or something, or do you want to head straight back?”

  “No, I’m OK, thanks,” I replied, before adding, “but there’s no hurry.” Flynn got himself a can of Coke out of the fridge in the corner of his room and sat on the edge of his bed.

  “You can pull the chair over if you want,” he said, indicating the chair by his desk. I decided to take control, took my coat off and sat next to him on the bed. I watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he gulped the Coke down.

  “Flynn, can we try something?” I asked.

  “What?” he countered, with a slightly worried look on his face.

  “I want to kiss you. Properly.” Although my cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, I managed to maintain eye contact. I was on the verge of drowning in the blue pools. Save me.

  “Umm, OK. But you’re in charge, alright?” He put his Coke down and angled his body towards me. I hadn’t felt as nervous the first time we kissed. After all, I knew now how wonderful it could be. What if it didn’t feel the same? Worse still, what if I didn’t want him to touch me? I took a deep breath to still the butterflies somersaulting in my stomach.

  And kissed him.

  Kissed him like it had been months, years even, since we had last kissed.

  As I pushed into his mouth, I felt him respond. I tangled my hands in his hair, my nails scraping at his scalp, holding his head firmly whilst I deepened the kiss. His moan ripped through me, making me bold. I eased my mouth back and nipped along the line of his mouth before tugging his lower lip between my teeth.

  “Oh my god, Cass,” he murmured against my mouth, causing me to pull back.

  “Wow,” I smiled. “That’s a relief.” I had never been so glad to be so turned on.

  “I’m not feeling much relief right now,” Flynn joked. “God, have I missed you!” We both sat back, allowing our breathing to slow, but my body was unwilling to give up so easily. I could feel the heat that had accumulated between my legs for the first time in weeks. Reluctant to leave things at that point, I leaned over and started to kiss him again.

  “Cass, just wait.” My brain immediately went into shutdown, convinced that Flynn didn’t want to carry on. “I need to shut the door!” He got up, closed the door and dropped his iPhone into the speaker dock after a few swipes of the screen. As some rock band I couldn’t identify started playing, he explained, “Just in case Jez is in. It’ll make it a bit more private.”

  “Oh. OK.” I’m sure the relief was evident in my voice.

  “Can I touch you, Cass? That was really hard, no pun intended, not touching you back. But I can keep my hands behind my back or something if you want,” he joked, helping to put me at ease.

  “Yeah, you can touch me. Let’s just see how it goes, OK?”

  “OK,” he said, taking my head in his hands and starting a slow, meandering exploration of my mouth. As the kiss continued, I couldn’t stop myself running my hands over his chest and back, revelling in the feel of his firm body. Like a game of follow the leader, Flynn’s hands made their way down my back, lightly tracing the line of my spine before settling on my hips. I tugged his hoody over his head, breaking our mouths apart for a second, so that I could push my hands underneath his tee shirt to feel the warmth of his skin beneath my fingers. He unbuttoned my shirt, pushing it open to run his own hands around my waist and caress the skin of my lower back. I heard my own moan bleed into his mouth at the contact, yet still wanted more.

  “Let’s lie down,” I breathed, pulling at him so that we were lay side by side. He looked in my eyes and smiled.

  “I love you, Cass.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “I love you too.” He took hold of my face, compelling me not to look away from the intensity of his gaze.

  “Say it again. Please.”

  “I love you, Flynn.” He pulled my face to his and kissed me deeply, as though trying to absorb those words into his very being. Our bodies aligned, allowing me to press myself against him. I luxuriated in the feel of his legs entwined with mine, the pressure of his hips, the way my chest flattened against his. Running my nails lightly down his back, I felt the involuntary jerk of his hips that reminded me how much power I had over him. I bent my leg at the knee and hooked it around his top leg, allowing me to push my hips tightly into his. He stilled his hands and mouth, the only movement being the heavy rise and fall of his chest.

  “God, Cass. I don’t think I can take any more. Can we have a time out?” There was a glimmer of a grin somewhere in the look of pain on his face. I lay on my back, creating some distance between us, giving my own breathing chance to calm. Still on his side, he leaned up on one elbow and looked at me. “So, how’s it going so far?” He asked with a grin.

  “Oh, you know, not bad, I suppose,” I responded, appreciating how the banter helped to relieve the intensity of the moment.

  “Not bad, not bad? I’ll give you not bad!” Flynn leant over me and started tickling my waist, causing me to convulse with laughter. “Ooh, you’re a ticklish one, are you? You’ve managed to keep that secret. Until now!” He set off on a journey to discover exactly which parts of me were ticklish, from the soles of my feet to behind my ears, ending up lay between my legs whilst I struggled to breathe after laughing so much.

  “I could spend all day here, Cass, but I don’t want to push things too much in one go. I think we should go home.” As tempting as it would have been to stay there, I agreed with him. I may not have shown it in my behaviour, but I was also concerned about rushing things. After having almost lost him, lost us, I wanted everything to be right this time around.

  We drove home, singing along to the radio. He dropped me off with a kiss and a promise to pick me up later that evening. I couldn’t wait.

  Mum’s tension was apparent as soon as I stepped in through the door.

  “Is Sylvie OK?” I asked.

  “Yes, she’s gone back with Becca for tea.”

  “Oh.” I wondered what had caused the change in plan.

  “Come and sit down, Cass.” That is never the sign of a friendly, light-hearted chat, is it? I did as she asked and sat next to her on the sofa.

  “What’s up?”

  “Kate rang. She wants to come round for a chat later.” My mind filled with all of the possible reasons why Kate might want to talk to me. None were positive.

  “Why?”

  “All she said was that she needed to talk about the case. It didn’t sound good though,” Mum admitted.

  “Great,” I replied, with more than a degree of sarcasm. “When is she coming round?”

  “Half five. Sylvie i
s staying at Becca’s until we ring.” So no doubt Becca’s mum knew about what had happened. Great.

  I sat in my room and watched some really old episodes of Friends until I needed to go downstairs; the familiarity of something I’d watched so many times before provided some comfort to my mind.

  Kate came in and, after minimal small talk, shared the news I had been dreading.

  “I’ve been speaking to David, the CPS solicitor who will be working on this case, and he is worried about the evidence. Specifically, he’s worried that Rob’s lawyer will be able to say that what happened was consensual, that you allowed it to happen.” I did appreciate the way that Kate didn’t sugar-coat things. However, that didn’t make it easier to digest what she had said.

  “What? He can say that I wanted it?” I looked at Mum for reassurance that I must have misheard.

  “Yes. Apparently there is evidence of an existing relationship between the two of you, which makes it much more difficult to establish consent in court.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I said no! I pleaded with him! And there was no relationship between us. What the fuck?” I was beyond angry. My world was being torn in two.

  Again.

  “Cass, don’t swear,” Mum admonished.

  “Did you not hear what she said Mum? He’s going to get away with this and all you can think about is my language?” I snorted with derision. “That’s great. Thanks.” I realised that I was taking my anger out on her, but there was no other outlet.

  “Cass, have you had any form of relationship with Rob?” Kate asked.

  “No. He asked me to dance once, at the Sixth Form Christmas party. That’s when all this started.”

  “Did you dance with him?”

  “Yes. But that was it. One dance and that was interrupted. Honestly Kate, that was it.” Hot tears were starting to spill onto my cheeks.

  “That would explain the pictures then. David said that there are pictures on Facebook and Twitter which suggest a relationship of some kind between you and Rob.”

  “What? How does he know that?”

  “It’s standard practice to investigate social networking sites Cass. That’s the world we live in today. Anything that is not private can be used as evidence and Rob’s team will probably use it to suggest that you gave consent and then changed your mind. And there’s no evidence of the photo that he took in the shop.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Not only could Rob do that terrible thing in the first place, now it looked like he could create this alternative version of the story that made me look like a slag, desperate to get off with him. My skin crawled with the same feeling of dirtiness that I had struggled to scrub away on the night of the attack.

  “Don’t I get the chance to give my version of what happened?”

  “Well, that should come through the statements. If he pleads not guilty, which is probably going to be the case, then you will have to testify.”

  “I thought they didn’t make the victim do that?” My voice was clouded with panic at the idea of having to relive events in front of a filled courtroom.

  “Nobody wants to see the victim go through a cross-examination unless it’s absolutely unavoidable. They might be able to do it by video link so that you’re not in the same room. You wouldn’t be able to see him.”

  Mum had been quiet since my angry outburst. “Hang on, so Cass is going to have to be questioned, like she’s the one in the wrong?”

  “She would be questioned, yes, but the judge would make sure that the questions were appropriate,” was Kate’s attempt at a reassuring reply.

  “I’ve seen that on telly. They rip the women apart and put all their dirty laundry out there for everyone to hear.” Mum was crying as well by this point.

  “They won’t do that, Helen, as Cass is only seventeen. It will all be much quieter and far less dramatic than what you see on TV. But let’s hope it doesn’t get to that point in the first place. Cass, when you made your statement you told me about the previous attack in the shop. I want you to think back. Has there been any other occasion when Rob has behaved inappropriately? Anything else that could be used by David?”

  I explained about the bet at the party to Kate, but knew that it wasn’t enough to count as evidence of Rob being a sexual predator. I talked about his man-whoring ways but all this proved was that he didn’t have to force himself on girls in order to get some action; they were all too willing to be with him. As I talked about him, I got angrier with myself for having been so naïve at the party.

  What had I been thinking, to believe that someone like Rob would be choosing to pursue me? Fool.

  “If you think of anything else, anything at all, get in touch with me, Cass. We are all on your side, remember. I’ll give you a ring if I hear anything more from David. Take care,” she added, hugging me goodbye.

  As soon as I got back to my room, I texted Flynn.

  Me: Can we stay in tonight?

  Flynn: Yes. Parents are out ;-) You OK?

  Me: Hmm…Kate has been round. Tell you later.

  Flynn: OK. 7.30?

  Me: :) xx

  I had a quick shower and got changed, thankful that I didn’t need to pay much attention to what I looked like as my mind was such a mess. Part of me wanted to just go to bed and hide from the world, but I knew that would be a backwards step.

  When Flynn knocked the door, I rushed downstairs, not wanting him to get into a conversation with Mum if she let him in. I opened the door and closed it behind us in one movement.

  “You OK?” Flynn asked, clearly concerned by my strange behaviour.

  “Yeah, I just didn’t fancy a chat with Mum, that’s all.” He opened the passenger door and then walked around to his side.

  “Thanks for not making me go out. I just want to be with you,” I admitted.

  “You’re not going to jump my bones again, are you?” He asked with a grin. “Actually, Neve is at home, is that OK?”

  “No, I think your virtue is safe tonight,” I said with a smile. “Actually, I don’t feel in a great mood so might not be good company.”

  “That’s OK,” he said, raising my hand to his lips, “I’m sure Neve will be good enough company for all of us.”

  When we got to his house, Neve was already curled up in the armchair in her pyjamas, watching TV. I sat on the sofa, glad when Flynn positioned himself next to me and then drew me under his arm so that I was nestled against him.

  “Do you want to talk about what Kate had to say?” He spoke quietly into my hair, with a discreet nod in Neve’s direction.

  “Yeah,” I replied. Neve turned at the sound of my voice. “Kate came round tonight to talk about the court case.” Neve muted the television. “They think that Rob is going to plead not guilty.”

  “I think we all expected that scumbag to try and get away with it,” was Flynn’s reply.

  “Yeah, but that might actually happen.” I was greeted with incredulous responses from both Neve and Flynn. “He just needs to make it seem like I was up for what happened.”

  “How could you have been up for what happened? It was an attack. It was vile. How can that bastard make it even seem remotely true?” Neve’s anger was evident in her voice, her eyes and the fierce hand movements that punctuated her questions.

  “Well, the photos from the party make it appear that I liked him. You’ve seen them Neve; I do look like I was enjoying it. To be fair, I was enjoying it,” I whispered, admitting that Rob’s defence had some basis in truth.

  “You can’t say that, Cass. You didn’t know what was going on. It wasn’t about Rob, it was about somebody paying you some attention. That was all.” Flynn looked me right in the eye as he spoke. “You have to believe that you haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “Who gave them the pictures?” Neve asked.

  “The lawyer found them on Facebook and Twitter. It turns out most people don’t keep their accounts private.”

  “How bad are the pictures?” asked Flynn.

/>   “I only saw a couple on the night. I haven’t been on Facebook since.”

  “Get your laptop, Neve,” Flynn ordered. “Let’s see exactly what is on there.” Whilst Neve searched through the Facebook pages of various members of the Sixth Form, Flynn and I checked their Twitter feeds on his phone. It was worrying how few people kept their profiles private. Even more worrying was how many pictures there were, freely available to anyone who was looking.

  As we shared our findings, my mood became even more bleak. There were a number of pictures of Rob and me dancing, and in most of them I looked like I was having a great time. The comments and tweets implied the same. The only odd ones were made after Flynn had interrupted the dance; there were a couple of nasty comments about how much my luck had changed, to have two boys interested in me. One even claimed that I had offered my virginity to whoever wanted it that night: that had twenty-three ‘likes’. I was glad that I hadn’t looked at what others had said in the immediate aftermath, and especially after the attack. I don’t think I would have coped with seeing what others clearly thought of me.

  However, now, wrapped in the security of Flynn’s arms, I was angry. Some of those people had been nice to me in school, especially after I had the time off. Yet there they were, making horrible, judgemental comments about something they knew nothing about.

  “It doesn’t look good, does it?” I asked, knowing that the others must be thinking the same.

  “But it’s not the truth,” Neve moaned.

  “I know. But they say the camera never lies. Look at those pictures. I look like I want Rob.” My tone was calmly factual.

  “That may be true,” Flynn admitted, “but that doesn’t mean that you wanted him to do what he did to you. It’s like date rape. A girl can go out with someone but she still has the right to say no.” As much as I loved him for trying to put a positive spin on it, I knew that Rob was going to get away with this. We all sat back, the flickering images on the silent television screen the only movement in the room.