NORMAL (13 page)

"Please!"
I sob, visibly shaking.
Please don't hurt me! Please let me go!

Before I know what's happened, Sam has his arms around me. I try to push him off but he holds strong. I cry and cry, and my heartbeat is too fast, and I still can't catch my breath.

"Calm down, Ror, you're fine. I'm not going to hurt you. You
know
that. I would
never
hurt you, okay?" he says softly into my ear.

I wait for him to shove me up against the wall, or down to the floor. I wait for his hands to take advantage of my helplessness. I wait for his tone to change, for him to spit the nasty vitriol.

But it doesn't happen. Sam just holds me and repeats over and over again that I'm fine and that he would never hurt me. I'm still not sure I believe him.  I'm not sure what to believe.

When I feel his hands move soothingly up and down my back, I realize that I have, in fact, started to calm. I wheeze in deep breaths.

"That's it, Ror. See? You're okay," he whispers, now tenderly stroking my hair

Still in his hold, I reach around to the pocket of my bag and grip the zipper pull.

"You don't need them, Rory. Look at you. You're fine. You're calming down. You don't need a pill," he whispers insistently.

And I realize, I think he's right.

I have calmed. I haven't taken a pill.

When I've finally caught my breath, I pull back just enough to look up at him. His eyes glisten with unshed tears.
God, I must have really rattled him.

It's then that I realize that he's not just the one holding me, I'm clutching the back of his tee shirt for dear life.

I release my death grip and he relaxes his hold as well.

"You're okay," he says. It's not a question.

I find myself nodding. Sam steps back, but he doesn't look away from me.

"Oh,
God
. I'm so sorry!" I. am. mortified.

I just completely freaked out on Sam, my friend. One of my
only friends!
And this was so much worse than my panic attack on my first day. I basically just accused him of plotting to get me alone so he could attack me, and I wonder if he realizes that.

"It's fine, Ror. I mean it," he says emphatically, but I'm shaking my head.

"Oh,
God
," I sob. I sit in the nearest chair and drop my head into my hands.
I am so fucked up.

Vaguely I'm aware that Sam has knelt down in front of me.

"Hey," he says gently, but I shake my head again. "Hey," he says again, this time more firmly, and he hesitantly takes my wrists and pulls them down so I have to lift my head.

He's holding my wrists. I should be freaking out again. I didn't even take a pill. But his eye contact soothes me, and right now, I really don't believe he's going to hurt me.

"I should have told you when Pitser left. I didn't realize it would matter. That's my fault. I didn't think. I am the one who is sorry, okay?" he says carefully.

I just stare at him for a few moments. Rationally I know that I'm the one who overreacted. That he was innocent in this. Why
would
he think he needed to tell me the librarian was leaving? But he's taking the blame anyway.

"I don't know why you're so nice to me," I whisper, not even having realized I was about to say it out loud.

Sam smiles wistfully and releases my wrists. He brushes my tears away with the pad of his thumb, another gesture that reminds me so much of Cam that I have to close my eyes for a second.

"We're friends, Ror," he replies, as if this explains everything. "That's what friends are for, right?"

I nod, because I really don't know what else to do. Sam stands and goes to pack up his books. He then proceeds to pack mine up as well and put them into my bag before holding his hand out to me.             

"I got you, Pine. Come on, let's get you home. You must be tired," he murmurs. I take his hand and he leads me out of the library, but once we're out in the hall, I still don't release his hand.

Right now, it's my lifeline, and I'm clinging to it desperately.

We reach the main exit, where Sam usually leaves to go bring my car around for me. But I can't quite bring myself to let go of his hand yet.

It's ridiculous. He was the one I'd been afraid of. Now I don't know what I'm afraid of, but he's the only thing keeping me together right now. I think he senses this because he doesn't even try to free his hand.

"Ror?" he asks, and I know he's asking what I want him to do.

"I can't walk by the locker rooms," I whisper, looking up at him meaningfully.

"Can I walk around the building with you?"

I nod, and without another word, he leads me out the main exit and we walk silently around the perimeter of the building. By the time we reach the student lot, I've pulled myself together. I take a deep breath and release his hand. I look down, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. Now that the danger of the attack has abated, as well as my perceived danger of
being
attacked, I feel nothing but humiliation.

"I really am sorry, Sam," I murmur to the ground.

"Enough, Rory. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? I'm sorry for putting you in that position, but you know what? You're stronger than you think you are."

I snort.

"You are, Ror. I obviously did something to trigger you to panic, but you got through it all on your own. You didn't need a pill. You did it yourself."

I think about his words for a few moments before responding.

"I didn't need a pill," I agree, my voice quiet and introspective, "but I didn't do it on my own either." I meet his gaze. He's the reason I got through that. "Thanks."

Sam offers me a half smile. "Hey, I got you, Pine, what are friends for?" he says lightly.

Thanksgiving, Last year

T
he Thanksgiving home game is one of the biggest games of the year. With no school the next day, all the football players, and the whole rest of the school really, goes out to a party down by the lake afterwards.

My parents stayed in town for the holiday, but they're leaving tomorrow to do their turn with my grandmother for the weekend. Lacey had called and invited me to stay there. I never mentioned anything to Robin about staying at Cam's every other weekend, but I know Lacey knows, and I'm sure she told him. I also have a feeling Robin insisted she invite me there so I wouldn't stay at Cam's. He's been a little more jealous lately of how much time I spend with Cam. He hasn't come out and said anything really, just little things - like glaring at Cam when I show up at school with him, or insisting on taking me home after practice.

Cam acts like he doesn't mind, and maybe he doesn't, but it's weird. If my best friend was a girl, I wonder if Robin would still insist on these things. Maybe he just likes spending the time with me.

The thing is, we still haven't discussed our relationship. He takes me out every week, and he acts like I'm his girl, but I still don't know if we're exclusive. He's had wandering hands lately, and I've been shoving them away regularly. Part of me wonders why I'm not yet ready to move things along, but I know that I'm not. I like kissing him. It's nice. It really is. But when his hands start moving over my shirt, it's like a bucket of ice water, and I don't know why.

I offer to drive tonight, since I know Robin will drink, so I follow him while he drops off his car at his house and he and Lacey pile in.

It's still pretty mild out here, even in November, so we all sit around on downed logs and some of the larger rocks. Everyone is drinking from the keg, except me since I'm the designated driver. I've never been drunk, and I think I'd like to try it, but obviously not tonight.

I'm chatting over by Chip's truck with him and Cam when Lacey walks over and runs her finger down Cam's arm. He smirks crookedly at her and I wonder if I'll be dropping her off at his house later. For the first time, the idea bothers me. I look around for Robin and spy him standing off away from the crowds with Maddie. They're just talking, but something about the way they're standing is too intimate. Of course, I know they've been intimate before. I even know they've had sex. But I didn't think he'd entertain the thought now. I watch, my heart sinking as I see her touch his chest as she laughs flirtatiously. He smiles, and doesn't push her hand away either. After another minute, he seems to excuse himself and I'm flooded with relief
.
He was just being polite.

I realize that I need us to talk about our relationship. I need to find out what we're doing. If we're exclusive. I don't know why I've let things go on this long without talking about it.

Robin scours the crowds as I watch until his gaze finally lands on me. He sees Cam and narrows his eyes before he realizes it's his sister who seems to have Cam’s interest tonight and he saunters over.

Robin's arm possessively slings around my shoulders and he pulls me to his side.

"So Foster, kinda funny that you threaten me about takin' out Rory, and yet you have no problem usin' my baby sister whenever it seems to suit you," Robin slurs.

I gasp, and all eyes turn to him, shocked that he would insult his own sister that way. He's not even trying to protect her, he's just trying to call out Cam.

Lacey would never question her big brother though, so she just excuses herself to go join the girls. Cam shakes his head and scowls at Robin before walking away. Cam never pretended to be doing anything other than using Lacey when it suited him, but he wouldn't insult her by verbalizing it, especially in front of a group of people.

"Rob, that was mean," I whisper to him when we're alone.

"What was?" He really doesn't seem to think he said anything wrong.

I just shake my head. He's drunk. There's no point in explaining it right now. I start to walk toward the crowd of people so we can rejoin the party, but Robin grabs my upper arm roughly and pulls me back. "What was mean, Rory?" he demands, though his voice is low.

"You just called out Cam for usin' Lacey, but you basically called her a slut in the process," I say.

Robin shrugs and I'm surprised that he's not remorseful. "If she acts like a slut she should be prepared to be called out for it."

"Robin!" I hiss, horrified by the way he's talking about his own sister. His grip tightens on my arm and I wince.

"So Foster can dictate to me about my life, but I can't call him out on his? Especially when he's usin' my own sister?" His tone is still so quiet and it's unnerving. I know I should probably concede, but I just can't.

"But you're not worried about Lacey, you were just trying to be a jerk to them both," I argue. It was the wrong thing to say. I know that immediately. His eyes narrow and I try to step back, but he holds firm.

Robin leans in close to my ear.
"
You
do not tell
me
what I can or can't say. And you don't question me, and you definitely will watch what you fuckin' call me. You got that, Rory?" His tone is calm and deathly quiet. I'd prefer he yell. Robin pulls back just far enough to meet my eyes. His face is red, and I don’t know if it's with drink or anger, but he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

I swallow nervously and nod. I shouldn't have called him a jerk. He's never called me a name. I wait to see what he'll do or say next. I half expect him to tell me he's done with me. He watches me, as if to see if he accepts my agreement to his demands.

Finally he nods. He releases my arm, which throbs painfully, but I don't move. Robin brings his hand to my face and brushes my cheek with his knuckles, and just like that, he's gentle again.

"You know I care about you, right?" he asks.

I nod again. I want to ask him what that means. But now's not the time. "I'm sorry, Robin. I shouldn't have said-"

He shakes his head. "No, sweetheart. That's all sorted out. Let's get back to our friends," he decides, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. He picks up our hands and kisses my knuckles, our squabble forgotten. I hope.

****

"Hey Sleepin' Beauty," Robin whispers.

I don't know what time it is, but it's late. We got home almost an hour ago and I'm back in the upstairs guest room after changing into my pajamas and washing up. Robin already kissed me goodnight before I came upstairs. I didn't even hear him come in. I sit up in bed.

"Hey, what are you doin'?" I ask. His lips make a beeline for my neck.

"I missed you, sweetheart." His lips find mine and he kisses me sloppily. He sure drank enough tonight. "Real bad." He grins wickedly.

I laugh. "I missed you, too," I whisper.

We kiss for a while and he leans me back on the bed, hovering over me. It makes me nervous, but he's still just kissing me, so I go with it.

When his hand starts inching toward my chest, I push it back to my waist, as usual. But he's more persistent than he normally is, and suddenly, he grips both of my wrists in one hand and pins them above my head.