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Authors: Pepper Pace
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had just tossed it back. Her mind fought to push back thoughts and memories that were not wanted in her new life. But soon the liquor warmed her and she relaxed again.
A man offered to buy their second round but Robin declined even though the others were happy to accept. She got up and went back out on to the dance floor without them. Sometimes men thought that just because you said hi, accepted a drink or danced with them that you wanted their stinking hands on you. But this was not the case for her anymore.
A few hours later she was in the bathroom stall puking. She spit one last time into the toilet. There was no blood in it, but it was time to stop drinking for the night. She flushed and then left the stall to wash her hands. Two girls looked at her with concern.
“You alright hun?” One spoke. “You were vomiting pretty good.”
“I’m good.” Robin said while looking at herself in the mirror. She thought that she still looked okay despite dancing until the sweat plastered the clothes to her body and drinking until she puked. Over the months, she had made subtle changes to her look. However, she decided to keep her hair cut short—only, she now went to a hair salon where they expertly tamed it to showcase the big pretty curls that had been hidden within the kink and frizz of her previously unprocessed hair. Robin grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at the sweat that was threatening to melt her makeup. Her nylon shirt was plastered to her body but it didn’t matter since it was designed to stretch and mode over her toned, athletic torso. After touching up her lipstick Robin went back out on the dance floor with her friends.
Becca was holding another drink for her and Robin took it forgetting that she had just told herself that she wouldn’t drink anymore. She carried it onto the dance floor where she danced with it before deciding to finish it off so as not to spill it. A man began dancing close to the three of them. Soon his body began to move closer to Robin’s.
“Hello,” he finally yelled to her.
Tracey watched the exchange with amused curiosity, knowing what was going to happen. Robin blinked a few times, pulling herself from the pleasant alcohol buzz as she realized that he had purposely invaded her personal space. She gave him a look of displeasure.
“Hi.” She moved away from him so that they were no longer in jeopardy of touching. But he was already interested in her and began to close the space that she had created between their dancing bodies. Tracey and Becca both smirked.
“What’s your name?” He asked, yelling over the loud music. He was very attractive; college aged, tight jeans that outlined an above average body.
“Not interested,” was her response. She turned her back to him and Robin’s friends cackled. Robin shot down more guys than anyone they knew. Tracey was convinced that she was a lesbian but Becca didn’t think so and had advised her friend not to even try to hit on her. Tracey would not mind getting to know Robin more intimately but she honestly liked the girl; too much to get shot down like the rest.
Becca had said that Robin was a man-hater, which meant that if she really wasn’t a lesbian, than some guy had done something pretty bad to her at some point in her mysterious past. But there was no point in asking her. Robin never spoke about a life prior to Brown Mackie College where she had met her two friends. Robin was cool, she liked to dance, party and sing. But you could only get just so close to her before she began turning away from you.
As it got closer to midnight, Robin decided that it was time to go home. She thought about the girl that had looked like Amberly and just thinking the name brought a familiar pang through her body that was part anger and part sadness. Her mind reluctantly sifted through the unwanted memories.
After returning from the
A man offered to buy their second round but Robin declined even though the others were happy to accept. She got up and went back out on to the dance floor without them. Sometimes men thought that just because you said hi, accepted a drink or danced with them that you wanted their stinking hands on you. But this was not the case for her anymore.
A few hours later she was in the bathroom stall puking. She spit one last time into the toilet. There was no blood in it, but it was time to stop drinking for the night. She flushed and then left the stall to wash her hands. Two girls looked at her with concern.
“You alright hun?” One spoke. “You were vomiting pretty good.”
“I’m good.” Robin said while looking at herself in the mirror. She thought that she still looked okay despite dancing until the sweat plastered the clothes to her body and drinking until she puked. Over the months, she had made subtle changes to her look. However, she decided to keep her hair cut short—only, she now went to a hair salon where they expertly tamed it to showcase the big pretty curls that had been hidden within the kink and frizz of her previously unprocessed hair. Robin grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at the sweat that was threatening to melt her makeup. Her nylon shirt was plastered to her body but it didn’t matter since it was designed to stretch and mode over her toned, athletic torso. After touching up her lipstick Robin went back out on the dance floor with her friends.
Becca was holding another drink for her and Robin took it forgetting that she had just told herself that she wouldn’t drink anymore. She carried it onto the dance floor where she danced with it before deciding to finish it off so as not to spill it. A man began dancing close to the three of them. Soon his body began to move closer to Robin’s.
“Hello,” he finally yelled to her.
Tracey watched the exchange with amused curiosity, knowing what was going to happen. Robin blinked a few times, pulling herself from the pleasant alcohol buzz as she realized that he had purposely invaded her personal space. She gave him a look of displeasure.
“Hi.” She moved away from him so that they were no longer in jeopardy of touching. But he was already interested in her and began to close the space that she had created between their dancing bodies. Tracey and Becca both smirked.
“What’s your name?” He asked, yelling over the loud music. He was very attractive; college aged, tight jeans that outlined an above average body.
“Not interested,” was her response. She turned her back to him and Robin’s friends cackled. Robin shot down more guys than anyone they knew. Tracey was convinced that she was a lesbian but Becca didn’t think so and had advised her friend not to even try to hit on her. Tracey would not mind getting to know Robin more intimately but she honestly liked the girl; too much to get shot down like the rest.
Becca had said that Robin was a man-hater, which meant that if she really wasn’t a lesbian, than some guy had done something pretty bad to her at some point in her mysterious past. But there was no point in asking her. Robin never spoke about a life prior to Brown Mackie College where she had met her two friends. Robin was cool, she liked to dance, party and sing. But you could only get just so close to her before she began turning away from you.
As it got closer to midnight, Robin decided that it was time to go home. She thought about the girl that had looked like Amberly and just thinking the name brought a familiar pang through her body that was part anger and part sadness. Her mind reluctantly sifted through the unwanted memories.
After returning from the
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