Chapter 24 Margeaux
MARGEAUX
(TRIGGER WARNING. This chapter includes details about sexual assault. This content is not meant to harm readers emotionally, or psychologically. If you do not feel comfortable reading this chapter, you can skip ahead to the next one. Your well-being is more important than pages read.)
“I’m freezing my tits off! Fuck!” I stammer between my chattering teeth. This red mini dress is barely covering anything.
“Suck it up, Maggie,” Amanda, my team captain, says. She’s rocking a bright green dress with a deep v-cut, showing off her modest cleavage. “You look hot as fuck. Nice to see you out of oversized t-shirts and leggings for a change.” She swats my ass as she leads our team to the bar entrance.
I shimmy side to side, struggling to keep the hem of my dress below my ass. Curses to my genetics for giving me such a fat butt, combined with the longest legs imaginable. Every dress becomes a mini dress.
“You’ll warm up after we have the first round.
There’s no coat check at this bar. Besides, you do look hot.
Tonight’s gonna be fun. Alumni weekend is always a blast. The alumni buy us drinks, the food is good, and we get to let loose after an amazing season,” Becca, a junior, and my closest friend, says.
She’s a big reason we were undefeated this season with her deadly serve.
I focus on not tripping in the heels the girls helped me pick out. I do like the way I look tonight. I’ve never been the girliest of girls, much to my mother’s dismay. I should send her a selfie to document this rare moment in our family’s history.
“Hey, Becca! Smile!” I hold up my phone and Becca smushes her face against mine, her shiny brown hair twining with my pin-straight black hair.
I love standing next to Becca. She’s about the same height as I am.
Even growing up playing volleyball in the middle of nowhere Ohio, I was always the tallest on my high school and club teams. She flings her arms around my neck, hugging me close.
I hold my phone up and snap a shot of us being total goobers. Becca inspects the photo, and smiles in approval.
“That red lipstick is popping, Maggie. You look like a total bombshell. I bet the bouncer won’t even ask you for an ID because of how hot you look,” she says as we continue to the bar entrance.
I reach into my small red purse and fidget with my fake ID. Jacky and I got them before we left for college. He suggested some type of cheesy twin tattoo. I love tattoos on other people. But I don’t think they’re for me. My phone starts buzzing in my hand and my family chat has blown up.
Mom: You look GORGEOUS!
Dad: Regretting not giving you pepper spray. Be safe.
Maggie: Always, Dad! I’m with my team and our alumni tonight. Safety in numbers.
Jacky: Out on the town without me? Didn’t think I’d want to be dancing with hot volleyball players, sis?
Maggie: Volleyball players only, bro! We still on for our Sunday breakfast tomorrow?
Jacky: Definitely! I’m sure you’ll need the coffee for that morning hangover
Mom: No drinking, Margaret!
Dad: It’s college, hun. She’s entitled to some fun. Just be safe, Bruiser.
I put my phone back in my clutch. My fake ID passes easily with the bouncer. Walking into the bar, I’m greeted by blaring music, and a big sign above the party that says, “Alumni Weekend 2019!”
“Woooo! Let’s dance!” Amanda leads us to the empty dance floor. Our team booked the bar for the night, so it’s just us and the alumni here.
I don’t know how many songs I’ve danced to; my feet are numb. Becca suggested a couple of lemon drop shots to help us dull the pain from our shoes. We’ve been dancing with each other the whole time, and I’m having so much fun.
“Who’s your friend, Becca?” A tall guy with light brown hair stands in front of us. He’s holding a beer bottle, and he looks like he’s in his mid-twenties. Even in my heels, he’s an inch or two taller than I am.
Becca rolls her eyes and sips her drink. “Brian, this Maggie. Maggie, this is Brian. He’s an alum. He was on the men’s team and graduated a couple of years ago. Maggie is our best recruit. She’s unstoppable in front of the net,” she says, swinging her arm around my shoulder.
“I don’t doubt that for a minute. You look like you’d level anyone into the floor,” Brian says, raising his brows at me.
I’m not a virgin, but guys don’t usually flirt with me.
I’m so tall and I’ve quickly learned college guys don’t like feeling emasculated by taller girls.
It’s fine. I’ve been so focused on volleyball these first few months of college.
But, if alumni Brian wants to dance with me tonight, I won’t say no.
“Well, we were dancing. So, if ya don’t mind,” Becca starts, reaching for my hand to tug my back to the dance floor.
Brian reaches out and grabs my other hand, threading his long fingers through mine. My cheeks immediately blush.
“Star freshman deserve a drink from alumni,” he says. He’s smooth. And cute. Okay, hot. He’s hot. I can tell he probably blocked and played aggressively when he was on the team. He nods his head towards the bar, and a lock of his sleek hair falls over his hazel eyes. Swoon.
“Just one drink,” I say, smiling from ear to ear, letting go of Becca’s hand.
“Maggie…” Becca whispers to me as Brian leads me to the bar. I look over my shoulder and her lips are pursed in an angry pout.
“You’re too sexy to be a freshman,” he says into my ear as we grind on the dancefloor. His hands have been glued to my hips the entire time, which I’m very grateful for because I was having trouble standing about two drinks ago. “You could be a model. You’re so fucking hot.”
He presses his lips into my hair, and it’s like my body knows to automatically arch into his. He smells like a winter breeze and beer. I giggle. Am I giggling because he smells like beer, or because he’s layering me with compliments. Who cares?
I look around the bar and notice that all of my teammates have left, and the bar has been opened to the public now. What time is it? I motion to open my bag and text Becca. I should link up with her.
“I should get back to my dorm.” My tongue feels heavy. I’ve never drank this much before. “I need pizza.”
Brian chuckles against my neck, giving a quick kiss that has me gasping. “Then let’s feed you, sexy girl. Come on.” He grabs my hand, and we leave the bar.
“You have a car?” I ask as I crash into his front passenger seat.
He laughs some more as he helps buckle me in because my arms are too heavy to move.
“Kinda need a car to help me get around. You don’t have one?” he asks as he takes his seat behind the wheel. Didn’t he drink, too? I fumble around in my bag for my phone. I should let Becca know I’m on my way back to the dorms.
“I share one with my brother. He’s my twin. We’re not identical. Boy and girl twins can’t be identical. That’s science,” I ramble drunkenly, but I’m pretty sure he’s impressed by my knowledge of science and biology.
He chuckles for the entire drive. He picks us up a pizza that smells so good.
“I’m hungry,” I mumble.
“I know, sexy girl. I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry. Don’t go to sleep yet. Keep talking to me. You’re funny. Sexy. Funny. Smart. I hit the jackpot. I’m such a lucky guy you even looked at me tonight.”
“Pshhhh.” I swat his left arm with the back of my hand. “You’re sexy. Cool alumni with a cool car. Alumni Bri. Alumni Bri.”
His hand gently caresses my cheek. The car is parked, but we’re not at the dorms. We’re outside some motel. “I tried asking where you lived, but you dozed off, sexy. Let’s just get some sleep tonight, and I’ll take you back first thing in the morning. I’m too tired to drive anymore.”
I hear his words. I want to say I’ll just call a rideshare, or Becca, but I’m so tired. I need to sleep.
“Come on. Pizza. Then bed.”
Pizza. I’m so fucking hungry.
“Mmmm…You have the softest lips,” he whispers. His breath tastes a little like beer, but mostly, wintery mint gum.
I think I moan into his mouth. He drags his tongue across my lips.
“Let me in, sexy. Let my tongue dance with yours. I’ve been aching to kiss you all night.”
He’s been so nice. He’s saying such perfect words to me. I open my mouth for him. He’s such a good kisser. “Mmmm,” I moan, trying to match the strokes and rhythm of his tongue.
“Yea. That’s it. You’re mine. Say it. Let me hear those words from you,” he pants. I vaguely hear the clinking of a belt buckle and a zipper.
“Yours,” I mumble. I can’t even keep my eyes open. Everything feels heavy.
“That’s right. You’re my slut tonight. Gonna feel your slutty pussy all over my cock.”
His words are revolting, and I want to push him away. I want to say something. “No,” I manage to get the one word out.
“You already said you’re mine. You’ve been saying yes all night. Don’t tease me, sexy.” He shoves my dress up and tugs my panties down. I barely feel the thin fabric being removed. All my senses are dulled. “Fuck, your pussy is gonna feel so good.”
A blaring car horn has me startling awake and falling out of bed. The scratchy carpet scrapes my knees and palms.
“Ouch.” The bright sun is burning my eyes. My head is pounding. My stomach is rolling. “I need to throw up.” I look around this strange room. I’m in a hotel? Oh yea. I kinda remember that.
I crawl my way across the small room and find the gross bathroom.
Too sick to care, I open the toilet and hurl up…
pizza? Ohhh, right. We got pizza. I don’t remember eating it.
I cough a bunch as my throat burns and my stomach cramps.
A sharp pain zaps me from between my thighs.
My pussy is aching. I look down and see that my dress is long gone. My panties- also gone.
I see the small waste basket next to the toilet. Two condoms, filled with jizz. I reach for the toilet and throw up again, emptying anything else that may have been in my system. More flashes come back to me.
“Fuck. You’re taking me so well.”
“You’re such a perfect slut.”
“Your slutty pussy is so wet for my cock.”
“I knew you’d fucking love this.”
I grab the edge of the sink and slowly pull myself up. Staring at my reflection, my hair is a tangled mess of knots. My eye makeup streaked down my cheeks. He knew I was crying, but he didn’t stop.
Finally, my bright red lipstick is smudged all over my mouth, chin and cheeks. That’s the first place I scrub clean.
I fucking hate red lipstick.