Eyeing the expression on my face, she got on her knees in front of me and took my hand, taking the box out of my hand.
"Jesus, Nickayla, is it really that bad?" she asked, removing the lid from the box.
I nodded as I watched her pilfer through a pile of ashes to find a singular scrap of my leopard skirt, the buttons from my halter-top, and the singed rubber from my red heels.
Her eyes flashed up to me, then back to the box as recognition formed in her mind.
"This is the outfit you wore to Ben's party," she said quietly. "Why did you burn it?"
My throat went dry as I struggled to find the words. I hadn't relived that night except in nightmares, and I was forcing myself to rehash it to my best friend. It was like Pandora's Box. She had already removed the lid and taken a small glance at the contents inside, but she had no idea of what she was really in for.
"Michele, that night I went up to Ben's room with Kyle," I said. "We made out, and it was amazing. It was the best kiss I'd ever had. But--"
Her eyes went wide as she stood up, getting back on the bed and wrapping an arm around my shoulder lightly. That gesture, however small it was, was what it took to open the floodgates that encircled my heart. My eyes pooled with tears and I struggled to keep myself together. I put my hand to my mouth, trying to hold in the sobs that I knew were coming.
"But what?" she asked, her voice small. "Did he hurt you Nickayla?"
I didn't speak--I couldn't speak. I let out a small sob, and without another word, Michele pulled me into her arms.
"Oh, my God, he did," she said, her voice breaking on the last word as her shoulders shook with her own cries of despair. She didn't ask anything of me, she didn't force me to speak, she just held me, and I was brought back to many instances when she was younger, right before her parents divorced, when I did the same thing. She pushed my hair out of my face and hugged me tightly, rocking me as our muffled cries emerged in unison.
"Nickayla why didn't you tell me?" she asked as she pulled away from me and wiped her eyes.
It was amazing how without telling her anything, I'd told her everything. Without me having to speak, she heard me loud and clear. It was our unspoken bond that held our friendship together, it was the way that we were there for one another no matter what, and didn't require words, or tears, or a massive speech to realize that something was wrong.
"I don't know." I shook my head.
"I don't know," I said. "I was ashamed...he was drunk, and I had had a little to drink. I was wearing that stupid, sexy outfit trying to get him to notice me. I didn't expect things to happen the way that they did, and when they did, I was scared of what people would think, what people would say. 'She asked for it', or 'well, did you see what she was wearing?' Or the best one, the one I've been replaying over and over in my head: 'She was in love with Kyle. Are you sure she didn't want him to?'" I paused, choking on my sobs. "I didn't want or need to hear any of that, because those are all the same things I've been saying to myself."
Michele took my hand and squeezed it. I'd almost forgotten how supportive she could be, and it made me wonder why I'd never told her any of this in the first place.
"Kales, it wasn't your fault," she said. "Yes, you loved Kyle, but he took advantage of that! Drunk or not, regardless of what you were wearing or how you felt, or if you never even said the word 'No', Kyle raped you Nickayla. Absence of a 'no' doesn't equate to the presence of a 'yes'. He was wrong, not you, and I'll go to my grave defending you against that asshat."
There it was. The validation I'd needed was right before me, but somehow, I couldn't relieve myself of the guilt I'd been feeling. I couldn't shake the fact that somehow, I was responsible for what happened to me. Michele had just said all the words that I'd needed to hear and more, but somehow, it just didn't seem like enough.
"You know what the worst part is, Michie?" I asked. "He doesn't even realize what he did. Afterward, he'd call me like, every single day! Like everything was still okay! It wasn't until I changed my number that he got the message that I didn't want to deal with him. I haven't been able to face him, and honestly, I don't know if I'll ever be able to. He still wants to be friends with me because he doesn't know what he did wrong, and I don't have the heart to tell him that I don't want to be anything. And I don't have the strength to tell him what it is that he did wrong."
Michele clutched my hand like it were her lifeline, and she was the one sinking.
"Nickayla, you are the strongest person that I know," she said. "You're way stronger than I am, because it's going to take every ounce of strength in me to keep from driving to his house and beating the shit out of him for hurting you."
I laughed loudly, immediately picturing Michele, all 5'1" and tiny, gangly arms trying to beat up Kyle who was at least a foot taller than her with a football player's build. Even so, the image in my head assured me that I had the most amazing best friend a girl could ever ask for.
"Okay, Rocky Balboa," I said, giggling. "Why don't we go get some ice cream and you can kill that instead of Kyle."
She laughed, standing up and pulling on a pair of my Ugg boots from my closet—clearly, the Jeffrey Campbell's weren't working out for her.
"I'd still much rather kill Kyle," she said, grabbing her purse as she followed me out the door.
Six.
As soon as the clock hit five p.m. I checked my hair in the vanity, making sure that my ponytail was perfect. I'd settled for a simple off-the-shoulder dolman top, my favorite pair of dark wash jeans, and my worn black Chucks.
I honestly couldn't believe it. I was going on a freaking date!
Okay, calm down Nickayla. You can happy-dance later, I thought.
It was just Colin, and I didn't want to seem overexcited. I didn't know where he was taking me, but he'd assured me earlier that it was just a casual date where we could have fun and get to know each other. In my mind, casual meant jeans and tennis shoes.
I could see his car pulling into my driveway, and he wasn't the kind of guy who honked the horn for a girl--he was the kind of person who came to the door and escorted people to the car.
I was beyond nervous. With Kyle, he was my best friend, and any time we went somewhere it was really nothing special. With Colin, I was questioning everything, nervous about everything, and the prospect of going on a date with him had my emotions all over the place.
When I got downstairs, Colin was knocking lightly on the door, and I opened it quickly, throwing myself into his arms. He blanched, looking down at me with a slightly amused expression. He stood rigid for a while, but after a few moments, he wrapped his arms around me and gave me a coy smile.
"You look great, Nickayla," he murmured appreciatively as I released him from my embrace. "Are you all set to go, then?"
I nodded, grabbing my purse and keys from where they sat on the couch in the living room. I waved my hand as if to tell him to go before me, but he stood there, holding the door open and waiting for me to walk through before closing it behind us.
Oh, what a gentleman, I thought as I locked the doors.
He took my hand gingerly, leading me toward his car. He opened the door for me, and when I climbed in, he closed the door behind me.
As I watched him walked around the car, I took the time to admire what he was wearing. He wore a well-fitting black v-neck t-shirt with light wash jeans that hung on his hips perfectly. He wore a simple pair of grey Chucks and a grey zip up hoodie over his shirt. He walked with an easy grace, his shoulders swaying like branches in the wind.
He climbed into the car and fastened his seat belt, starting the car before he turned to face me.
"You really do look great," Colin mused, taking in my appearance. "Most girls think they have to get all dressed up for a first date, but I definitely appreciate a girl who wears jeans and Chucks and then to top it off, says I'm just gonna throw my hair in a ponytail, because who the Hell am I trying to impress."
I grinned, watching the road as he pulled out
of my driveway and began to drive.
"Maybe I'm pulling reverse psychology on you." I enjoyed making him squirm. He'd told me more often than not what kind of effect I had on him. "Maybe I'm trying to impress you by dressing like I'm not trying to impress you."
His eyes flashed to mine and a boyish grin took over his expression as he let out a low chuckle.
"Well, is that the case?"
"Nope," I replied with a light shrug of my shoulders. "I just really like jeans, and my hair was being stubborn so I put it in a ponytail."
He groaned, turning to stare at me with a pained expression when we got to a red light.
"Jesus, Nickayla, stop reverse psychologizing me!" he exclaimed.
"Sorry."
My giggle was nearly uncontrollable. He was being even cuter than usual.
When the light turned green, he lifted a hand away from the steering wheel and wagged a finger at me angrily.
"That!" he exclaimed, his voice raising an octave and making me flinch. "Don't do that, I beg of you."
I didn't know what he was referring to. His hand was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.
We reached the Harlow Galleria, a large indoor mall with possibly every place a teenager would want to visit. He pulled into the parking lot, circling three or four times before he pulled into a parking spot right outside of the Harlow Bowl. He put the car in park and pulled the keys out of the ignition, turning to look at me for a moment. I was still stunned into silence by his sudden outburst.
"I'm just going to be frank with you, because life's too short to waste a single moment without the truth," Colin said, taking off his seatbelt and taking my hand into his. "I like you, Nickayla. I really like you. And I'm trying my best to take things slow because well, that's what you've asked of me. I love the prospect of being your friend and taking you out on dates--which I plan to do every weekend until you all but beg me to stop because I like you. I like the way you say my name. I like the way you called me when you needed me even though we barely know each other. I like the way I'm usually reserved around girls but I've given like three of these long, embarrassing speeches in my entire life, and they've all been with you. I like the way you leapt into my arms and hugged me when I picked you up from your house earlier. I like the way you flirt without even really flirting. I like the way you don't try to impress me by trying to impress me by not trying to impress me. But I love the way that you giggle. I don't know why that's the one thing I love, so don't ask. If I could bottle up that sound and play it whenever I wanted to, I would. When I'm driving, you're not allowed to giggle. Please, don't. Change the subject or hold it in or something, because when you giggle, I swear, my heart stops, and we don't want that, do we?"
I shook my head, trying to suppress yet another giggle, just because I didn't want to interrupt his soliloquy. He was so adorable. It appeared that I wasn't the only one who rambled.
"No, we definitely don't want that." I was sure that if I could see my reflection, I'd be vermillion. A moment later, I gave him a smile. "So, bowling?"
He nodded, opening his door and jumping out of the car. He walked over to the passenger side and opened the door for me.
"You know, you don't have to open the door for me every time," I said. "I'm perfectly capable of opening my own doors."
We walked toward the bowling alley hand in hand, our hands swinging between us lazily.
"It's not a matter of whether you're able to open your own doors." Colin took that opportunity to open yet another door for me, holding his hand out as though he were presenting me to my new palace. "It's just that you shouldn't have to."
Once inside, my senses were assaulted with the sound of laughter and pins being knocked down, the pungent scent of hot dogs and burgers, the sight of kids running from the actual bowling alley toward the arcade.
Colin's hand was at the small of my back, guiding me toward the food stand. I took in the sight of the menu, examining all the options before me.
"See anything you like?" Colin asked, coming up behind me and looking at the menu himself.
"Chili cheese fries," I answered immediately.
He chuckled, stepping forward and handing me a twenty-dollar bill.
"Take care of the food, and I'll go pay for our games and get our shoes." He started to walk away from me, and as I was admiring his ass from behind--which was something that I didn't normally do--he turned back around and walked back toward me. "What size shoe do you wear?"
I shook my head, handing him back the twenty-dollar bill.
"Oh, no, Mister," I said. "I'm not telling you my shoe size on a first date."
He cocked his head to the side, grinning at me mischievously.
"Come on. The longer you withhold this information, the longer it'll take for us to start bowling. Cooperate, Nickayla!" he exclaimed.
"Nope. Let me get the shoes and you take care of the food."
"I have ways of getting the information that I need, you know."
I grinned, stepping forward so that I was close enough to smell his cologne. I had no idea what that boy was wearing but he smelled amazing.
"Oh, yeah? How?" I was definitely curious.
He stepped forward, and I could have sworn that our lips were mere centimeters from each other. My mind, heart, and body were all at war. I was yearning for a touch of his lips on mine, but my heart refused to act on any of it. I could almost imagine what it felt like to be able to kiss him, but there was no way I was giving him that on a first date. I'd learned from my past mistakes.
"I could always throw you over my shoulder and yank your shoe off. I could run away with your shoe and find out your size, leaving you here all cute and pouty and missing one shoe," he said with a smirk.
His breath intoxicated me, smelling lightly of citrus and mint. "Seven." I could barely breathe. Not kissing him was going to be harder than I thought. "I wear a size seven."
"Good girl."
He sauntered off, but not before he placed the twenty dollar bill back into my hands.
I was so confused. Being around Colin made my head go fuzzy...I wasn't sure exactly what I wanted anymore.
"My turn!" I yelled, grabbing a ball that suited me and heading for the lane. "I am so gonna kick your ass!"
Colin was chuckling behind me, sitting at the small table in our area, and picking off of the large order of chili cheese fries that we'd agreed to share. He watched me with a light in his eyes and I turned away from him with a wink, walking toward the lane and flicking my wrist upward as I rolled the ball.
"YES!" I screamed when I got a strike on my first try. I punched my fist into the air and did a quick happy dance, overly excited.
I sashayed over to where Colin sat, totally proud of myself and I was going to let him know it. The expression on his face was priceless. He acted as though he was looking at a supermodel or something. His green eyes were wide, his mouth agape, and his hands hanging lazily at his sides as though he was at a loss for words.
"I take it you're the type of person who's a sore winner?" he asked, nudging me with his shoulder as he got up to take his turn.
I watched him roll his ball, knocking out eight of the ten bowling pins.
When he turned back to walk toward me, I grinned sheepishly. "I'm not a sore winner. I've just never gotten a strike before."
"Seriously?"
"Don't make fun of me!"
I was bashful all of a sudden.
I'd been allowed to date since I was fifteen years old, and even though things had almost progressed to a relationship with Kyle, he'd never tried to win me over by taking me out on dates.
It wasn't healthy to compare Colin and Kyle, and I knew it, but I couldn't help it. Honestly, I liked Colin because just from what I knew about him already, he was nothing like Kyle. He wanted to make sure that I was comfortable, happy, and carefree. He never once tried to pry and find out what happened to me to cause me to be closed off. He joked with me, but
he never crossed any lines. Furthermore, he wasn't trying to rush me into being in a relationship with him. He really did want to be my friend and try to get to know me.
"I'm not making fun. It's adorable, really." He grinned as he propped himself into a seat and gestured for me to take my last turn.
Our last game was nearly over, and Colin had been beating me all the way up until this final game. I walked up to the ball dispenser and grabbed my ball, holding it up to my chest and walking briskly toward the lane once more. I flicked my wrist, rolling the ball and letting it go. I watched in satisfaction as I knocked down nine of the ten pins. I grinned, turning around and sticking my tongue out at Colin. I waited for my ball to dispense before grabbing it again. I didn't have much confidence over the prospect of knocking down one pin, so I just gave my best effort and rolled it in the right direction. My ball went directly into the gutter, and I shrugged it off, walking over to Colin and taking a seat.
"You did great," he said, holding his hand up to high five me. "I'm pretty sure you're still gonna beat me."
"I better! This is the best game I've ever bowled in my entire life." I fixed myself in my seat, grabbing one of the plastic forks and taking a bite of the chili cheese fries. Once I'd swallowed, I cleared my throat, watching Colin's retreating figure. "Good luck! I'm pretty tough to beat."
I watched as he rolled the ball with a simple grace, getting a strike and ending our final game. I clapped my hands enthusiastically, cheering him on for his first strike of the night.
"Let's get going," he said, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. He picked up the tray of our food, leading me toward the door.
"Where are we headed now?" I asked.
We walked back to the food stand, handing in our tray full of dishes. Our fingers intertwined, and he walked me outside. We walked in silence, and he led me to the car. I raised an eyebrow at Colin, trying to warn him not to open the door for me.
Losing Me Page 7
