Chapter 20 #2
More people pile onto the disco ball-lit floor, and time stops mattering.
The hard beat, our loud out-of-tune singing, the catch of my breath when Bethan takes my hand and spins me around, is as good as therapy.
Cathartic, brushing away the noise in my head over me and Rhys, the way I must rehearse what I want to say to him later, the lurch of my stomach as I imagine putting it all out on the table – my feelings, my boundaries, my fear he could reject it all.
That I’m not worth the rules. I let it all go, close my eyes, and enjoy myself.
Soon, the steady thump thump of dance music gives way to sultry R&B.
A pair of hands slide over my backside, and when I pull in a gasp, the strong scent of peppermint fills my lungs.
Rhys has joined us. I should push him away.
Dancing with him like this, in a crowd full of people who know who we are, is dangerous.
I release Bethan and spin around, ready to give him a playful little shove, reprimand him for putting his hands on me but in a way that makes him want more.
Because I can absolutely be a temptress.
Maybe. But I’m not greeted by his beautiful red hair or his thick, flaming stubble.
No deep ocean-coloured eyes stare at me.
Instead, a man around our age leers over me, his open mouth revealing at least three missing teeth.
The smell of mint evaporates, replaced with stale sausage rolls and beer that churns my stomach.
A glance over the stranger’s shoulder shows Rhys is nowhere in sight.
‘I’ve been watching you dance,’ he slithers.
He slides his hand up my arms, pushing at the sleeves of my blouse.
My beautiful, flowery blouse that I’m going to have to burn when we get home.
I yank away from him and the sudden movement knocks him off balance.
He doesn’t fall, using the surrounding dancers to bounce off of and pounce at me.
‘Don’t you want to dance with me, sweetheart?
Ooh, I love your big tits. I wanna kiss all over them. ’
Bile rises in my throat when he licks his lips and angles his head towards mine. ‘No.’ I lean away as far as the other dancers allow me. ‘Thank you. But I’m here with my girlfriend.’
But Bethan’s lost in the crowd, dancing away somewhere out of sight and hasn’t noticed the creep making a move on me.
He moves in to kiss me again, another attack forced on by the crowd shoving us together.
It’s not like I can slip through the tiny gaps between bodies, squeeze into nothing.
A body my size will leave a cavernous hole in the crowd, making it easy for him to follow me.
A hot burp hits my cheek and I shudder. If he manages to land the kiss then I’ll be sick.
I already want to peel my skin off from where he’s touched me, bleach my eyes clean.
His lips are puckered, white marks of stale drool collecting in the corners. I turn my head from him, trembling when his wet, slobbery mouth grazes the edge of my ear.
‘Don’t touch me.’
But he keeps coming back. Over and Over. Doesn’t matter how many times I push him away. I still can’t see Bethan, still can’t grab her for help. I don’t want to be pawed at. I don’t want this man’s lips anywhere near me. I don’t want to keep on saying no to him.
I snap my arm back, my fist curled tight, and swing at his face. The punch connects, hard and brutal, and the impact vibrates from my knuckles. Ow!
He recoils, clutching hold of his jaw. ‘You stupid bi—’
‘What the fuck you playing at?’ Rhys appears from nowhere, Cai hot on his tail.
The guy lunges for me, but Rhys pulls him away.
Cai fills the gap between me and the stranger.
In a move straight out of a film, Rhys locks the predator’s arms in a tight grip, twisted behind his back.
His chest heaves, his jaw’s rigid, his eyes dark, angry slits.
I’ve never seen him so furious.
‘Gerrof me.’ Slobbery man twists in Rhys’ arms, wriggling for purchase or a way to get out. Rhys tightens his grip, yanking further until the man squeals.
The crowd clicks onto what’s happening and recedes, drawing a circle around us so they can watch.
Camera’s flash, one after the other after the other, and all I can do is stand there, holding my sore hand to my chest. I’m surrounded.
Every way I turn reveals only more people, more partygoers seeking out drama, no escape.
Mobile phone torches light up, pinprick judges capturing it all on camera.
The beauty of the bag of stars from earlier disappears.
These lights are way too close to me, too revealing, too assessing.