Chapter 19
His response was, “Only retards need pre-algebra in eighth grade.”
My door opens. Grayson appears holding up a piece of paper. “Do you know what this is?”
“No, sir.”
“I’m sorry.” I show him my homework. “I’m trying. I really am.”
“Apparently not.”
“I…I told you I needed to take Pre-Algebra. I…I knew—”
He grabs my upper arm, yanks me to my feet, and has me up against the wall holding my wrists behind my back before I fully grasp what’s happened.
“You knew what?” he asks, his voice low.
“Nothing. I’ll be better. I promise.”
My pulse races. His fingers dig deep into the thin skin of my slender wrists. I stare at his black dress shoes, feeling heat radiate off his body. I squeeze my lids shut because then my world is dark and I can’t anticipate his next move.
“You bring this on yourself,” he speaks, his breath hot on my skin.
I don’t respond. He stays threateningly close.
Then he releases my wrists. But I don’t move a muscle or even breathe. I don’t want to do anything that might fuel his ire.
Thankfully, he takes a step away but I remain very still. And I continue standing frozen up against the wall, my wrists behind my back, my head bowed until after he’s long gone.
At the door he stops, delivering one last insult. “There’s nothing special about you, Laura. Don’t ever think there is. You’re mediocre at best. It’s why I insist you keep your hair long. It’s the only thing you’ve got going for you.” With that, he leaves.
In the months to come, I become very good at cheating in Algebra I Honors. I bring home straight A’s, and Grayson never mentions the class again.
Anne parties a lot. In the short amount of time I’ve known her, I’ve only gone to one with her. It was a big mistake with the crowd, the drunks, and everyone bumping into each other. Definitely not my scene.
She always asks me to go, and I always say no. As usual, she asks me this time. Simon and West do as well. I told them all no, and they went on without me to Ms. Kelly’s party. Somewhere in the past thirty minutes, though, I changed my mind.
Now here I stand staring at the door that leads out to the hotel’s rooftop party in Pittsburgh.
Music thumps the air, and through the glass panels, I see everyone from the road packed in tight, dancing and drinking.
This is a private party, so there are no reporters and no cameras, but everyone from the road is here—the festival bands, the sound crew, the lighting techs, the production staff, and various other people.
This is supposed to be fun, I remind myself as I take a step toward the double doors. But new nerves jitter through me, making my palms slick. Breathe, Eve, breathe.
Just a few floors below waits my hotel room, all safe and ready for me. I’m being ridiculous. No one’s going to grab me. No one’s going to do anything to me. People will be in my personal space, and they will be touching me, but I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.
I can’t be like this forever. I have to be comfortable at some point. If I was courageous enough to run away, if I was brave enough to have survived the first sixteen years of my life, then I’m bold enough to walk in there and attend this party.
With renewed strength, I reach for the door and swing it open to be greeted with music, cheer, and nippy fall air.
Tucking my hands into my hoodie, I step forward onto the packed rooftop as the music’s beat thumps through my veins.
People are everywhere amidst the tables and twinkle lights and what seems like tons of open bars.
I scan the crowd for Anne, or West, don’t see either one, and scoot along the perimeter. One person gives me a smile, and I give one back, but it comes out awkward and shaky.
“Holy shit, you’re really here.” Anne comes toward me.
“Just now, yes.”
“I was about to come down and see if I could talk you into coming up.” She hands me a cup. “Here drink this.”
I sniff it. “What is it?”
“Alcohol.”
I let out a laugh. “Point taken.”
“I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” I take a sip of the drink. It’s not half bad. Kind of fruity.
“Be right back,” she tells me and heads off.
I stand along the outer wall, glancing through the packed crowd, admittedly looking for a fedora.
I find West over near a bar, wearing faded jeans, a black leather jacket, and for a change, no fedora.
He takes a drink of his bottled beer, chuckling at whatever the person beside him is saying.
Taking a sip of my own drink, I enjoy the moment of just watching without him knowing I am.
Anne comes back with a new cup and taps it to mine. “To pals.”
“To pals.” I take another sip that turns into more of a healthy drink.
Anne nods over her shoulder. “See the chick in the brown suede jacket?”
I look back at West to find him staring right at me. Warmth flushes through my cheeks, and he breaks into a big grin.
“Do you see her?” Anne prods.
Carrying his beer bottle, West comes straight toward me through the crowd, and with each step he takes, everything around me fades to just him.
“Hey, Blue Eyes.” He stops in front of me, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “When’d you get here?”
No one’s ever kissed my knuckles. Not even Grayson. It makes me feel like a blue-haired princess. “A few minutes ago,” I answer, noting the happy tone in my voice.
He leans in a little bit as he peers down into my cup. “Oh no, that’s not the party punch, is it?”
My thoughts skip around, wanting to grab onto an answer, but focusing instead on his nearness.
“Yes, it’s the party punch,” Anne supplies the obvious answer. “Now will you both stop ignoring me and check out the Latina with the brown suede jacket?”
West and I turn to see who Anne is pointing to. “Well?” She looks at both of us. “Yay or nay?”
West nods. “Hot.”
“Definitely,” I agree.
“But…she’s dating Ms. Kelly.” West makes a face. “Sorry to inform.”
Anne frowns. “Oh.”
“Speaking of Ms. Kelly.” West nods over Anne’s shoulder. “She’s waving me down. I’ll be back.” With that, he heads off.
“You’re giving that boy blue balls.”
“Anne!”
“Figures hot Latina is taken,” Anne grumbles. “Just my luck.”
Through the crowd, I catch sight of a gorgeous woman making her way toward West. With her short dress, high heels, and long hair, she gathers more than one look from the guys. She approaches West and Ms. Kelly, and my guts clench as I recognize her. It’s the beautiful Asian girl from before.
I thought this party was private. What is she doing here? She runs a hand down West’s arm, and he turns. They exchange a smile, and jealousy twists all through me.
The music transitions into a louder beat with more bass, and Anne pumps the air. “Yeah, let’s dance.”
Downing the rest of my drink, I toss it into a nearby garbage, and maybe it’s the alcohol or perhaps it’s that girl and West, but I let Anne pull me into the crowd.
We start to dance, and I block out the people around me as I absorb the music and the beat.
A wave of dizziness flows through me and I sway.
Someone bumps me, and I barely even care.
Anne’s laughter floats around me, and I chuckle with her as I turn a lazy circle and hear Anne say, “You go, girl.”
Someone bumps me again and I definitely don’t care this time.
Then someone’s hands are on my upper arms, trailing down to my wrists, and I turn, expecting to see West but see Toby, the drummer, instead.
He grasps my wrists and puts them behind my back, and I freeze. “I usually go for petite girls with big tits,” he slurs. “But gangly works for you.”
A shiver crawls up my neck as he holds both my wrists with one hand and slides the other one up to grab my neck. Everything around me vanishes, and I’m thrown back to my bedroom and Grayson’s tight hold on my wrists.
The rooftop party blurs to my old bedroom and then back again. I yank at Toby’s hold, panic banging so hard within me I’m about to explode. “N-n-no…”
Toby buries his nose in my neck, and I feel his moist breath as he releases my wrists and starts to slide his hand under the hem of my hoodie and up my back. “Love to see you in bed. It’s you quiet ones that are the loudest.”
“No,” I scream, but it comes out more as a strangled cry. “No!” I wedge my hands between us and push—right at the moment that he’s yanked off of me.
I stumble back, straight into a couple of people, just as West shoves Toby into one of the bars. Bottles crash, and as the music continues thumping the night air, I turn.
And I run.