Breakable (16 page)

Then
I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror.

I
was a mess. My hair was sticking out on one side, ruffled in a way that looked
like I had bedhead. My mascara had run and I must have rubbed my eyes, because
it was smeared across both my cheeks and as far as my temple on one side. My
top had stretched horribly where it was pinned. It gaped open, a small tear on one
side. It was hard to get my trembling fingers to work, but eventually I managed
to unpin it, pull the two sides together, one over the other, and pin them
through. Then I used water from the faucet to wash my cheeks and remove the
smeared make up. There was nothing I could do about the fact that my lipstick
was gone – probably rubbed on Finn’s comforter. I hoped his mother asked him
how that had happened.

Then
I combed my hair with my fingers and pushed the front strands behind my ears.

My
eyes were still a little red, and I still looked…off. But at least I wasn’t a
complete mess anymore. And I had to get away from this mirror before Older Me
showed up.

Crunching
the cup into a ball, I threw it in the wastebasket and walked back into the
room.

I
stood at the door for a minute, hand on the handle. I kept getting flashes of
the altercation with Finn. It made me nauseous.

Why
had he touched me like that? Had that awful kiss been nothing more than a way
to cover my mouth when his hands were busy?

I
wiped my mouth with both hands, grimacing.

I
had to get out of here. Older Me had been right. I shouldn’t have come. I’d
only made things worse. Gawd, if she found out about the letter on top of all
this…

Through
the thick wood I could just make out the thump of music, and the rise and fall
of laughter and voices. I knew I needed to get out there. To find Dex and ask
him to take me home. Or, maybe Mark.

But
I couldn’t make my hand turn the handle. Couldn’t make my legs move.

I
was shaking all over, and every time I imagined walking through the crowd, it
felt like they’d
know
.

Then
I remembered Finn standing there, smiling, my letter in his hand. His promise
to make copies.

Humiliation
washed over me in waves.

I
stumbled backwards until I ran into something and dropped to sit.

It
was one of those little divans, placed at the end of the bed so a person could
sit to remove shoes, or whatever.

I
couldn’t move. I stayed there, breathing, trying to forget. Trying not to think
about what was coming. Trying not to break into little pieces because I knew no
one else was going to bother to put them back together.

Because
it
was
coming. Eventually.

Chapter Eighteen

I
take a deep breath and meet Doc’s eyes. He removes his glasses, takes a tiny
cloth from his pocket to clean them as he speaks.

“So…your
incident…it wasn’t the first physical altercation with Finn?”

“No.”
I am surprised by how affected I am, recounting that story. “The night of the
party was the first time I really felt…threatened, though.”

Doc’s
lips press together into a thin line. “Stacy, I know that the legal
ramifications of your story have already been dealt with. But given the emotion
still clearly attached to this, there is something that I think might be
important to say at this point.”

I
wait, prepared to hear about how I should role-play confronting Finn, or write
him a letter or something. I’ve been through this before.

Doc
clears his throat. “I want you to know that I believe what Mr. Patton did to
you that night was nothing short of despicable. It was intimidating, violating,
and horribly disrespectful.”

“I
know,” I sighed.

“No,
I’m not sure you do.”

I
frown, meet his gaze because I’m confident that I know Finn’s a pig better than
anyone else. But Doc leans forward and returns his glasses to his eyes.

“Stacy,
what he did was wrong. You didn’t deserve that on any level. He used his
superior strength and social status to
threaten
you. I have no doubt
that your reaction after the fact was actually shock. You were put in a
position where your body believed your life, or wellbeing was at serious risk.
For a young man to do that to a young women simply because he can…? I am
sickened by it.”

I
swallow. I believe him. “T-thank you.”

Doc
shakes his head. “This story goes much deeper than I was led to believe. I find
myself…disturbed that these events went unaddressed for so long.”

I
shrug, and freeze again. Geez, when will I remember how much that hurts?

I’m
still shifting in my seat, trying to get comfortable, when Doc sits back and
returns to his notebook.

“Tell
me, did you report these events to your mother? Or a teacher? Any responsible
adult?”

I
shake my head.

“Why
not?”

I
sigh. “Because it all kind of got lost in the shuffle of what happened after
that. By the time things had calmed down, it felt like it was too late to tell
anyone. And I didn’t want them to know about the letter, so…”

Doc
frowns. “What events overshadowed
that
?”

I
swallow and return to the story.

I’m
not sure how long I sat in that room, but eventually the music from downstairs
got louder, pressing up through the floorboards, buzzing against the soles of my
feet. More and more people gathered in the upstairs hall, their voices a
high-pitched punctuation to the thumping bass. Every now and again someone
would shriek. Laughter rose in clouds.

It
was a party. Everyone was having fun.

Had
they forgotten me yet? Were they drunk enough that if I ventured out, they’d
ignore me? I was still shaking, but the adrenalin rush had passed. I wasn’t
fighting tears anymore. I felt like I could talk to people without falling
apart.

Sort
of.

But
I didn’t move.

Looking
back, I wish I had.

The
door opened twice while I tried to figure out what to do. Both times a girl
peered in, saw me, gasped and backed out, closing the door again. I didn’t even
have to say anything.

When
it opened again the third time, I got to my feet. Whoever it was, they could
have the room. The petty part of me hoped they’d mess it up and Finn would get
in trouble with his parents.

“You
can have–”

“Stacy?”
A deep voice asked. Then the door swung wider. Dex stood there, a little
unsteady. “There you are!”

His
face was flushed. But he was still wearing that stupid jacket. Idiot was
probably burning up just so he’d look cool.

“Hey,”
I said, weakly, dropping back down to the divan.

“I’ve
been looking for you for an hour. Where did you go?” He closed the door and
came to stand in front of me.

I
shrugged. “Just…I just needed to get away from everyone,” I said, knowing it
sounded lame even as it came out of my mouth.

“Needed
some space, huh?” Dex said, his voice low and lush.

I
nodded. A teeny, tiny alarm dinged in the back of my head.

Dex
stepped closer and offered me a hand. I took it and stood up. Then his hands
trailed up my arm. He watched their progress and leaned toward me, his cheek
coming to rest right next to mine, his lips close to my ear. “Were you hoping
I’d find you?” he murmured, and a waft of sharp, sweet alcohol drifted under my
nose.

I
jerked back reflexively.

Dex
stood straight, looking puzzled, his fingers still running trails up and down
my arms.

“Have
you been drinking?” I asked, hushed, and angry. Also afraid. Dex was supposed
to be my safety net tonight.

But
at my words, his face shuttered. His chin came forward and he leaned back. “I
told you, I don’t have a problem with alcohol.”

“But–”

Dex
rolled his eyes. “I’ve already sorted out a sober driver. Don’t worry.” His
hands dropped from my arms and reached for something in his back pocket. Then
he was holding a silver flask. “You clearly need to loosen up,” he said with a
wink. “Here. Have a drink.”

I
stared at the flask, uncertain whether this was very cool and grown up of him,
or desperately stupid and selfish.

“You
came prepared.”

Dex
shrugged and took a swig off the flask himself, then held it out to me again.
“Means I don’t have to carry a cup around. And besides, I don’t really like beer.”

I
eyed the flask. I had vowed not to drink tonight, mainly because I tended to
turn into an idiot when I did, and I couldn’t afford that here. But I
was
feeling
really wound up. Maybe just one shot would help me relax. Make me braver. So I
could go out there and find a ride home.

I
took it from him, hoping he didn’t notice my fingers shaking. I took a
mouthful, then swore when it hit my throat. “Whoa!” I gasped, then coughed. I
could feel the warmth spreading from my stomach into my arms almost immediately.
“W-what is
that
?” I croaked.

Dex
chuckled and took the flask back. “It’s moonshine. My dad makes it. He doesn’t
realize I know. It’s easy to steal it because he’s stores it in a huge bottle
in the basement. One little flask-full doesn’t even make a dent.”

He
looked very pleased with himself. I wondered why a man with a drug-addicted son
was making alcohol in the basement.

“Want
some more?”

The
flask, gripped in Dex’s long, thick fingers, wavered in front of my face. There
was a not-unpleasant looseness draining through my muscles.

“Just
one more,” I said and took it. It still burned the second time.

When
I handed it back to him and wiped my mouth, Dex smiled.

“What?”
I asked absently. I was enjoying the spreading sense of warmth in my chest.

“You
look different,” he said, putting the flask back in his pocket. “Sexier.”

I
snorted. “Yeah, well, spilling a beer all over your chest and walking around
half-dressed will do that to a person.”

Dex
shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

Everything
in the room spun gently. My face felt weird. “Well, what did you mean, then?”
The words felt thick on my tongue. Not difficult to say, just…too slow. Like my
brain didn’t finish the words quick enough.

Dex
leaned in. The alcohol smell wasn’t noticeable this time. “I meant, since I’ve
been gone you’ve changed. I noticed it as soon as I saw you.” His hand settled
at my bare waist and pulled me closer.

I’d
known this was coming ever since Dex walked in the door. A year ago it would
have been our usual rhythm. But now? I’d been too tense to want to get close to
him when he arrived. After all, wasn’t I still mad at him for leaving?

“You’re
beautiful,” he whispered.

My
tears threatened to return. It felt good to have someone compliment me.

I
met him halfway when he leaned down to kiss me, opened my mouth and let my
hands slide up his chest and around his neck.

Dex
made a little groaning noise and pulled me closer.

I’d
forgotten what a great kisser he was – gentle and teasing sometimes, intense
and demanding at others. As his lips slid over mine, and his tongue traced the
corner of my mouth, I pressed in, waiting for the heat. When Dex used to kiss
me, I’d always felt that burn of desire for him. I’d always wanted to feel
closer
.

It
wasn’t waiting for me in this kiss, but that was probably because I was too
distracted. Also, apparently, getting drunk; When Dex’s tongue brushed my
teeth, I giggled.

He
pulled back for a second, just far enough to talk without touching. “What’s
funny?” He sounded a little irritated. “I don’t kiss you for a year, and the
first time I do, you laugh?”

“No,
no, it wasn’t that,” I said, fighting down another giggle. Where were they
coming from? “Ignore me. I’m just feeling weird.” I threaded my fingers into
the hair at the back of his neck and pulled him closer. He didn’t resist.

His
arms came around me, pulled me up until I was on tiptoe. His lips danced across
mine.

Any
minute now, I’d feel that excitement.

Any
minute…

Why
wasn’t I feeling it?

The
longer I stayed in his arms, the less I was able to enjoy it. But that was just
me. Dex’s breathing became harsh. The kiss harder. His fingers curled into my
waist, then dragged up my sides until they were under my sweater.

I
tensed, pressed into the kiss, tried to remember what it felt like to want his
hands on me.

But
my stomach roiled. My skin didn’t tingle, it writhed. His hands on the clasp of
my bra felt violating.

Then
he groaned for real and started walking me backwards.

I
stiffened. “No, wait, Dex…”

“Shhh,
it’ll be fine.”

“But–”

“Just
relax.”

One
hand dragged down to my backside and squeezed. The packet in my back pocket
crackled and we both froze. Dex straightened just enough to meet my eyes at the
same time he pulled the little foil pack out of my pocket and held it up. Then
he grinned.

“I
knew it.”

“No!
It’s not–”

Dex’s
mouth crushed down on mine. He leaned me back until I was forced to take a
step. My calves hit the end of the bed and I sat down hard. Dex was in my face,
pushing me back. My mouth couldn’t form the words I needed – especially not
with Dex trying to swallow my tonsils. I pushed against his chest.

“It’s
okay, Stace,” he rasped against my lips. “I won’t tell–”

Wrenching
my face sideways – his lips left a snail-trail of spit on my cheek – I sucked
in a breath. “Get. OFF!”

I
shoved him at the same moment he cursed and jerked back. His weight shifted and
he slid off the bed backwards, one arm flailing, landing on the floor with a
thump.

I
sat up, a hysterical giggle bubbling out of my throat. I clapped a hand over my
mouth.

Dex
appeared again, springing off the floor like he could pretend he’d never been
there. He wavered a little when he made it to his feet, but then he caught his
balance and turned, glaring.

“What
is wrong with you?!” He hurled the words at me, his face twisted, eyes wide.

His
anger took me by surprise. As soon as he’d hit the floor I’d imagined his pride
might be bruised. But…

“Dex,
it was an accident–”

“Shut
up! I can’t believe I brought you here. Tried to help you. Why do you have to
pretend you don’t want what you clearly came here for? Or is it because you
didn’t come here to get it from
me
?”

I
was stunned. “Wait a second, Grabby Hands, just because you asked me–”

“You
really don’t have a clue, do you?” He shook his head and had to take a step
back to catch his balance. “Do you know how many of the girls downstairs are
offering a lot more than a grope? But I still came looking for
you
.”

“Well,
I guess you made the wrong choice then, didn’t you.” My voice was cold. It
sounded strong. If only I felt that way.

“You
got that right,” he spat. The words hit me in the stomach. Then his lip curled
in a sneer the perfect twin to Finn’s and I lost my breath.

“I’m
leaving,”