Rush

by Samantha Towle

  “No!” There’s consternation in my voice. “I’m telling you the truth.”

  “I don’t believe you!” he roars.

  Those four words are like a punch to the chest.

  And they hurt like hell.

  The ensuing silence in the room is deafening.

  My throat is thick with tears.

  “I’m going to ask you one last time. I’m giving you this opportunity to tell me the truth. Did you get drunk last night?”

  I swallow back the tears and wrap my arms around myself. “No,” I say quietly, shaking my head. Because I won’t lie. I promised him the truth always, and that’s what I’m giving him.

  He exhales a harsh breath, shoving his hand through his hair. Then, he starts across the room, walking past me.

  “Where are you going?” I can’t hide the fear in my voice, and I don’t want to.

  “I’m just…done.”

  “Done?” My heart leaps in panic. “Ares…please.”

  “No, Ari. There’s no coming back from this. I refuse to be with you and have you lie to my face.”

  “I’m not lying!” Tears spill down my cheeks.

  “Stop!” he bellows, silencing me. “We’re done. Don’t call me. Don’t come to see me. In fact…just forget I ever existed because that’s what I intend to do with you.”

  Then, he’s gone.

  And I’m standing here, in shock, my phone still in my hand.

  Confusion, hurt, and pain spill through me.

  I stare down at the video.

  I didn’t drink.

  Someone had to have given me something…

  Put something in my drink.

  Like what?

  Date rape drug.

  No…

  But there’s no other explanation.

  But who would have done that?

  Leo.

  No. Why would he?

  It’s not like he tried anything. He wasn’t even with me when the drug took effect…

  Oh God. No.

  I check the story, scrolling to find the writer or contributor, but there’s nothing. There isn’t always on these types of gossip sites.

  But I intend to find out.

  And I have a pretty good feeling I know exactly who it is.

  I’m sitting on a chair in an examination room at a private hospital, seeing Luke’s doctor, Dr. Pritchard.

  Luke is here with me; he’s sitting outside in the hall.

  I called him after Ares walked out of my apartment, and he came straight over.

  I’m here, having my blood tested for drugs. The so-called date rape drug. Because I’d already peed before I left the house, they couldn’t use my urine to test, as I’d have probably passed the drug, so they had to take blood. The doctor left the room to go have it tested.

  Luke had insisted I come here after I told him what happened.

  He believed me. No questions asked.

  Unlike the guy who’s supposed to love me.

  But I can’t think about Ares right now because, if I do, I’ll start crying. And I don’t want to cry.

  How he looked at me…like he hated me. What he said just before he left…

  “Just forget I ever existed because that’s what I intend to do with you.”

  Tears sting my eyes.

  Shit. Don’t cry.

  Deep breaths. I’m okay.

  I need to focus on my anger. That I was drugged, possibly by someone who was pretending to be my friend. Someone who just wanted a story and fast money and would go to the lengths of drugging me, making it look like I was drunk.

  I know what a story like that would sell for.

  Well, I hope he enjoys the money.

  The doctor walks back in the room and takes his seat at his desk.

  He turns to face me and exhales, and I just know what he’s going to say.

  “Okay. So, you tested positive for flunitrazepam. The showing was low, but it was there.”

  “What is that?” I ask through my paper-dry mouth.

  “It’s more commonly known as Rohypnol.”

  Jesus Christ.

  Even though I knew this was highly likely and I’m relieved that I’m not losing my goddamn mind and drinking without even being aware, I’m still shocked, angry, and hurt that someone would do that to me.

  “As you’re probably aware, it’s a drug that is quite often used to facilitate sexual assault. It makes the person who has been given it look like they’re drunk. They’ll have trouble standing. Slurred speech. Loss of muscle control. Nausea.”

  “I had all of those.”

  “And you say all you drank was Diet Coke?”

  “Yes.”

  “Arianna…I know this isn’t a question you’ll want to hear, but I have to ask…is there any possibility that you think you could have been sexually assaulted?”

  I clasp my hands in my lap and shake my head. “I don’t think so. I recall leaving the auction and going into my apartment alone. And I don’t feel…like…you know.” I nod south.

  “Okay.” He nods his head. “Well, either way, we can do a rape test kit if you want one done to be sure.”

  I shake my head again. “No. I’m sure I would know…but thank you.”

  “Okay. Well, what I do suggest is that you file a report with the police. You were drugged against your will, and that is a crime. And people don’t use this drug without intent. It was lucky that you managed to get out of there and get home before something more serious happened.”

  I know I’m lucky. But I don’t feel it.

  And, honestly, I don’t think that was ever Leo’s intent. He wanted me to appear drunk, so he could sell a story.

  I knew journalists could be devious. I just didn’t realize how low they could go.

  “Thank you, Dr. Pritchard. I appreciate you seeing me on short notice.”

  “No problem at all.”

  “Could I ask a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Would you be able to give me a copy of the test results for me to show to the police?”

  “Of course.”

  I wait while he prints it out for me. Then, I put the test results in my bag, thank Dr. Pritchard again, and leave his office.

  Luke is still out there, waiting for me.

  “Okay?” he asks, getting to his feet.

  “Yes…no.” I shake my head, fingers curling into the sleeves of my sweatshirt.

  I feel like I’ve been violated.

  Like something has been taken from me.

  I was lucky to not have been sexually assaulted. Leo might not have done it, but someone else could’ve taken advantage of me in my vulnerable state.

  And I know it wasn’t alcohol in my system…but I still had the same effects as if I were drunk. The hazy feelings, emotional and physical numbness, the vomiting. All the same results, just without the booze.

  “You were drugged?”

  I nod, and Luke’s face tightens with anger. He walks over to me and wraps his arms around me, hugging me, and the gesture is so sincere and kind that I start crying.

  “I’m so sorry.” I sniffle, moving back, embarrassed at my public meltdown. “I’m getting your shirt wet.”

  “Don’t be sorry. You’ve every right to be upset. I’m fucking furious, and it didn’t even happen to me.”

  I’m so lucky to have him as a friend.

  “Thank you, Luke, for everything…bringing me here, being there when I need you.” I dry my tearstained face with my hands.

  “Ari, this is what sponsors are for…what friends are for. And we’re friends. And trust me when I say that I’ve had worse things on my shirt than tears.”

  “Puke?” I say.

  He nods, and I laugh through my tears.

  “Thank you,” I say again, and this time I’m thanking him for the laugh just right when I needed it.

  “Come on,” he says, putting his arm around my shoulders in a friendly gesture. “Let’s get you home, and then we’re going to figu
re out what we’re going to do about this.”

  “Okay,” I say, and we start walking down the hall.

  “But there’s one thing you can trust me on. The bastard who did this to you won’t be getting away with it; that’s for sure.”

  I see the hulking figure of my dad waiting at the foot of my building steps as Luke pulls the car up.

  “My dad,” I say to him.

  “Ah.”

  “I’ve been ignoring his calls all day. I know you want to talk about our plan of action, but I should talk to him.”

  “You should. And, Ari, really talk to him this time.”

  I glance over at him, knowing what he’s saying. “I will. And thanks again. I’ll call you later.”

  I climb out of his car and walk over to my dad.

  My dad’s eyes go to Luke’s car that’s pulling away and then to me. “Who was that?” he asks, suspicion lining his voice.

  I sigh. “Luke. My sponsor.”

  “Nice car,” he comments.

  “Yeah, well, addiction doesn’t discriminate. You wanna come inside?”

  I walk past him, and he follows me up to my apartment in silence.

  “You want something to drink?” I ask him as he takes a seat on my sofa.

  “Coffee.”

  I go into my little kitchen and make coffee for us both. Then, I carry them through to the living room.

  “Thanks,” he says when I hand him his coffee.

  I sit down on the chair, curling my feet under me, and hold my cup in my hands.

  “So…” he starts.

  “Can I just say something first before you start?”

  “Of course.”

  “I know you’re pissed and that you probably want to yell at me right now, but can we not?”

  His brows draw together. “I’m not going to yell, Ari. I didn’t come here to fight. I just came to check that you’re okay. And to find out what happened.”

  “You saw the video.”

  “I did.”

  “Okay. So, before I talk, I’m asking, do you want the actual truth or the truth that you’ve already decided in your head?” A la Ares style.

  “The actual truth.”

  “Okay,” I repeat. I blow on the hot liquid and take a sip before speaking again, “So, here it is…I was drugged.”

  His face goes ashen, but I don’t stop talking.

  “I think I was drugged by a guy called Leo Parsons; he’s a journalist with ASN. We’d met before, and I bumped into him at the auction. We were chatting. He offered to get me a Diet Coke from the bar. Aside from whoever poured my drink, he was the only one with access to it.

  “A short while after drinking half of it, I started to feel weird, light-headed, and dizzy. Then, I was struggling to walk, and my speech was slurred. I knew I hadn’t had alcohol, but I didn’t know what was happening to me. I managed to get home in a cab and passed out, not before throwing up all over my floor.” I point to the damp patch on my carpet from where I scrubbed it clean earlier. “I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol.” I stare into my dad’s face, wanting him more than anyone to believe me.

  “I’ve just gotten back from the hospital. Luke kindly took me to see his doctor. He tested my blood, and I showed positive for a low level of Rohypnol—the date rape drug.”

  His face goes from gray to white. “Were you…”

  “No,” I’m quick to reassure him.

  He sits forward, putting his coffee on the table. “Are you sure?” His words are careful. “Because I’ve heard stories about that drug, how people are unconscious and don’t know what’s happening to them.”

  “Dad…” I put my drink down and move to sit next to him on the sofa. I place my hand on his arm and stare into his face. I’m surprised to see the fear in his eyes. I know he loves me. I’m his kid. He has to. But, until this moment, I didn’t realize how much. “I’m sure. I left the auction as soon as I knew something was wrong. I was mostly aware by the time I made it back to my apartment. I didn’t black out until I got home.”

  “Jesus Christ.” He sits forward, putting his head in his hands. “This is my fault. I asked you to go to that auction.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He looks at me. “You wouldn’t have been there for this to happen if I hadn’t been away.”

  “You had a game.”

  “I always have a game.”

  “Dad…” My mouth goes dry.

  “I know I failed you. Time and time again. I know it was wrong, but I couldn’t cope with your mom at the time…how she was…so I avoided being at home. I didn’t think about how that affected you. I was selfish. And. when she died…I should’ve been there. The guilt was eating me up so bad; I couldn’t look at you without feeling shame.”

  “I always thought it was because I reminded you of her.”

  “No. Christ, no.” He puts his hand on mine, gripping it. “You do look like her. You’re beautiful, just like your mom. But it was my own shame…I failed you, Ari. And, now, I’ve failed you again.”

  “You haven’t failed me.” I squeeze his hand. “Truth: yes, you failed me back then, when I needed you, and I spent a lot of years being mad at you.”

  “Is that the reason you drank? Because of your mom?”

  Tears squeeze at my eyes. “Partly…”

  He closes his eyes and heaves out a breath. “I’m going to sort this out for you.” He opens his eyes and brushes a fallen tear from my cheek. “I’m going to kill the son of a bitch who did this to you.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I’m going to do this the right way. I’m going to report it to the police.”

  “Can I…go to the station with you?” he asks tentatively.

  I give him a sad smile. “I’d really like that.”

  “And Ares…have you spoken to him yet? He left the hotel without letting anyone know he was leaving. I was guessing he’d seen the video.”

  “He, um…” I look away from my dad, picking my coffee up and taking a sip. “He came here first thing this morning, before I went to the hospital. He’d seen the video. I tried to tell him that I hadn’t drunk any liquor, but…he wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Have you told him about the drug test?”

  I shake my head and lower my cup to the table.

  “You need to tell him.”

  My eyes flash to my dad’s. “I don’t have to tell him a thing. He’s supposed to believe me. Not a drug test. He doesn’t trust me, and I’ve never given him a reason not to. And, without trust, we have nothing.”

  My feelings toward Ares, the way he reacted, are turning to anger and bitterness, and I’m clinging to them because it’s all that will get me through this…through losing him.

  “He deserves to know the truth,” my dad counters.

  “I gave him the truth, and it wasn’t good enough, coming from me.”

  “I know. But you have to see it from his point.”

  “I get that.” I dig my hand into my hair, frustrated. “But he didn’t even give me a chance. He came here, guns blazing. He’d already made his mind up about what had happened, so it didn’t matter what I said. He was never going to believe me.”

  “I know, Ari, but his background, with his dad…he has a hard time trusting people.”

  “Especially drunks. Yeah, I get that. But I’m not his dad. He can’t hold me up against his dad every time something goes wrong. Either he trusts me or he doesn’t. And it’s clear that he doesn’t.”

  My dad drags a hand down his face. “Okay.” He exhales. “I get what you’re saying. I don’t agree with you not telling him. But I get it.”

  “And don’t you tell him either.”

  “Ari—”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Okay,” he concedes. “I won’t say anything to Ares. But we should go to the police station now and report this. The sooner they talk to that little shit, the better.”

  We leave my apartment, and my dad drives me to the police station where
I make a statement to a policewoman with a kind face. I give her the copy of the test results that Dr. Pritchard gave me. The officer, whose name is Knight, tells me that she’ll talk to Leo and get his version of events and that she’ll be in touch.

  And that’s it.

  I’m frustrated at the lack of action, I guess, and so is my dad. But there’s nothing else we can do.

  Dad drives me home, and we pick up pizza on the way.

  We sit together, watching an old Friends rerun—“The One With Russ.” Both of us laugh through the episode, and honestly, I need the laugh after everything that’s happened to me since last night.

  I guess the fact that I can still laugh tells me something.

  I might have been drugged, and currently, my name might be getting dragged through the mud. And I might have lost Ares, the guy I love.

  But I’ll survive.

  I’ve survived worse.

  When we’ve finished eating and another Friends episode starts, exhaustion washes over me. I lean my head back on the sofa and close my eyes.

  “You should sleep,” my dad says from beside me.

  “Yeah…” I agree. “But…will you stay with me for a while?”

  I open my eyes and glance over at him. His stare meets mine, eyes softening on me.

  “Of course I will. I’ll stay as long as you want.”

  I’m in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, when I hear a knock on the front door.

  I spit out into the sink and call, “Dad, can you get that?”

  “Yep,” is his response from the kitchen where he’s making us breakfast.

  Dad stayed last night. He slept on the sofa. He knew I didn’t want to be alone and insisted on staying, which I really appreciated.

  I managed to get a bit of sleep. In between thoughts of Ares, our fight, and the tears I shed silently into my pillow, I had a few restless hours.

  I rinse off my toothbrush and step out of the bathroom, heading for the living room.

  I come to a stop when I see Ares standing there with my dad. The breath rushes from my body. I wasn’t expecting to see him.

  I look awful. I’m wearing sweats, and I haven’t brushed my hair yet.