wrench my wrists away from Cody’s iron fingers useless. Between his weight and my sweat-glazed skin sticking to the leather, it’s impossible to move. With tears searing my eyes and the breath stolen from my lungs, I’m drowning.
“Cody,” I finally manage to say, my voice just as desperate and frightened as I feel. I’m squirming and kicking and my wrists feel like they’re going to snap in half. “Please!”
He moans and rocks against me. “You’re so hot.”
A sob pushes out of my throat, and Cody releases one of my wrists to squeeze his arm between our bodies and touch me between my legs.
I hate myself for dressing like this. For wearing a skirt that allows him to touch me without effort. What was I thinking? I never think.
I latch on to his shoulder and try with all my might to push him off me, but his weight is impossible and he doesn’t move an inch.
“Cody, stop,” I plead, attempting to kick against the seat to squirm away from his rubbing hand. I turn my head to the side and start crying, words like no and stop being sobbed without any effect.
And then the door to the bus opens and Joel steps inside first, a girl under his arm and a stunned look on his face as he takes in the view of Cody on top of me. I think he must hate me, but then his eyes meet mine. They fill with rage that turns on Cody, and a second later, Cody’s body is flying off of me and landing on the floor.
I’m weightless as I find my feet and rush off the bus. Adam and Rowan are behind Joel and the girl he was with, and they saw everything. Shawn and Mike see only the view of me racing past them with my skirt bunched up, my hair a mess, and mascara streaming down my cheeks.
I nearly trip down the bus stairs, gulping in air and trying to quiet my sobbing. I pull my skirt as low as I can get it as I speed-walk toward my car. I don’t even have my keys, but I need to get away. I need to get far away.
“Dee!” Rowan’s hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me in the middle of the parking lot. “What happened in there?”
I want to tell her, but I know that if I attempt to speak, I’ll start crying again. I’ll break down right here in the parking lot and I won’t be able to pull myself together. I bite my lip between my teeth and shake my head, silently begging her not to ask.
When I reach my purple Civic, I drop to my knees and fumble to find the hide-a-key stashed under the carriage, the sharp asphalt in my knees proving that this isn’t just a bad dream. I still feel frantic, my fight-or-flight response demanding I get home as fast as humanly possible. My shaking hands open the box, remove the key, and let the box fall to the ground instead of trying to put it back where I found it. I’m desperately trying to fit the key in my car door when Rowan’s hand covers mine. She takes the key from me and wraps her arm around my shoulders, walking me to the passenger-side door and helping me climb inside. Once she slides into the driver’s seat beside me, she holds me in her gaze. I can tell she wants to hug me, wants me to tell her what happened so she can assure me everything will be okay. But that’s not what I need from her right now. I need her to take me home.
I stare down at my shaking hands resting on my lap until she finally starts the car. She drives me home and walks me to our apartment, which is good because I’m pretty sure I’d be terrified to walk anywhere alone right now. Inside, I don’t let her get a word out before I retreat to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and climb inside without taking my clothes off. I don’t want to be naked right now. I just want to cry without anyone hearing me.
And I do. As soon as the water hits my face, the tears start falling. I curl up in the corner, wrap my arms around my legs, and sob into my knees. I sob so hard that I have to throw up on my hands and knees in the drain, which only makes me cry even harder. I’m pathetic. God, I’m so fucking pathetic.
When
“Cody,” I finally manage to say, my voice just as desperate and frightened as I feel. I’m squirming and kicking and my wrists feel like they’re going to snap in half. “Please!”
He moans and rocks against me. “You’re so hot.”
A sob pushes out of my throat, and Cody releases one of my wrists to squeeze his arm between our bodies and touch me between my legs.
I hate myself for dressing like this. For wearing a skirt that allows him to touch me without effort. What was I thinking? I never think.
I latch on to his shoulder and try with all my might to push him off me, but his weight is impossible and he doesn’t move an inch.
“Cody, stop,” I plead, attempting to kick against the seat to squirm away from his rubbing hand. I turn my head to the side and start crying, words like no and stop being sobbed without any effect.
And then the door to the bus opens and Joel steps inside first, a girl under his arm and a stunned look on his face as he takes in the view of Cody on top of me. I think he must hate me, but then his eyes meet mine. They fill with rage that turns on Cody, and a second later, Cody’s body is flying off of me and landing on the floor.
I’m weightless as I find my feet and rush off the bus. Adam and Rowan are behind Joel and the girl he was with, and they saw everything. Shawn and Mike see only the view of me racing past them with my skirt bunched up, my hair a mess, and mascara streaming down my cheeks.
I nearly trip down the bus stairs, gulping in air and trying to quiet my sobbing. I pull my skirt as low as I can get it as I speed-walk toward my car. I don’t even have my keys, but I need to get away. I need to get far away.
“Dee!” Rowan’s hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me in the middle of the parking lot. “What happened in there?”
I want to tell her, but I know that if I attempt to speak, I’ll start crying again. I’ll break down right here in the parking lot and I won’t be able to pull myself together. I bite my lip between my teeth and shake my head, silently begging her not to ask.
When I reach my purple Civic, I drop to my knees and fumble to find the hide-a-key stashed under the carriage, the sharp asphalt in my knees proving that this isn’t just a bad dream. I still feel frantic, my fight-or-flight response demanding I get home as fast as humanly possible. My shaking hands open the box, remove the key, and let the box fall to the ground instead of trying to put it back where I found it. I’m desperately trying to fit the key in my car door when Rowan’s hand covers mine. She takes the key from me and wraps her arm around my shoulders, walking me to the passenger-side door and helping me climb inside. Once she slides into the driver’s seat beside me, she holds me in her gaze. I can tell she wants to hug me, wants me to tell her what happened so she can assure me everything will be okay. But that’s not what I need from her right now. I need her to take me home.
I stare down at my shaking hands resting on my lap until she finally starts the car. She drives me home and walks me to our apartment, which is good because I’m pretty sure I’d be terrified to walk anywhere alone right now. Inside, I don’t let her get a word out before I retreat to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and climb inside without taking my clothes off. I don’t want to be naked right now. I just want to cry without anyone hearing me.
And I do. As soon as the water hits my face, the tears start falling. I curl up in the corner, wrap my arms around my legs, and sob into my knees. I sob so hard that I have to throw up on my hands and knees in the drain, which only makes me cry even harder. I’m pathetic. God, I’m so fucking pathetic.
When
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