stormed across the room to go to answer it.
“Hello? Hey, Blake, yeah, she’s finally awake . . . She’s okay, still shaken up from it . . . No, you’re so sweet, but I’ll take care of her today . . . Yeah, I’m sure . . . Okay, love you too. Here she is.”
My head was shaking a no when Candice tried to hand me the phone, and she eventually just shoved it into my palm. I just stood there staring at the front of it in horror. Candice huffed and forced my hand so the phone was pressed to my ear and went to sit back at her desk.
“Y-you—”
“Took care of you,” he said, cutting me off. “I have a witness.”
“No,” I whispered, and glanced up at Candice.
“Who’s going to believe anything you say, Rachel? My own cousin and your best friend saw me taking care of you after you’d been attacked. She saw me hold you after you fainted. She watched me vow I would never let anyone touch you again as you slept. And trust me when I say, Rachel, I will never let anyone else touch what is mine. And you. Are. Mine.”
Who was this man? Where was the Blake I’d grown up with? My heartbeat felt like it stuttered and I sat there in silence as I thought through every different outcome of telling people about what had happened last night.
When I didn’t say anything for a while, Blake spoke again. “Did you just realize that I’d come out the hero no matter what?”
“Stay away from me,” I said shakily, and took a deep breath in as I tried to put some strength behind my words as I repeated them: “Stay away from me, Blake.”
I hit the end button and let my phone fall to my bed before pressing my fist to my mouth to muffle my new sobs.
Candice snatched my phone from me and walked back to her desk. When she was seated she turned her glare on me. “You’re probably just having a freak-out because Blake was the one to take care of you after your traumatic experience.”
“You’re supposed to be my best friend! Why won’t you listen to me?”
“Because even though I love you and I hate what happened to you, you’re being a bitch by accusing Blake!”
I jerked back on the bed. Oh my God. How did she not understand any of this? I wanted to scream at her to listen to me. But I knew Blake was right; no one would believe me. Especially Candice. He was perfect in her eyes. He was perfect in everyone’s eyes. And what proof did I have? None. Nothing but horrific memories.
“Have you told Blake we’re moving into an apartment here this summer?”
“No . . .” She drew the word out and tilted her head to the side. “Why?”
“I don’t want him to know, Candice. I don’t want to see him, I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t—I just don’t want anything to do with him.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” she whispered.
“Please, just don’t! If you won’t believe me, then please just do this for me.”
She shook her head quickly and straightened her back. After a few deep breaths she opened her eyes again. “I know this is all just because you’re going through a lot. I think we should spend a minute apart. Take a Xanax, lie down, and rest. I’ll go pick up some Chinese food and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Then, after you’ve had time to relax, we’ll talk about what really happened to you, okay?” Before I could respond, she grabbed her purse and practically ran out of the room.
I SPENT THE morning and early afternoon writing to my parents at Starbucks, and though it usually left me feeling closer to them, connected somehow, today just wasn’t cutting it. It could’ve had something to do with the fact that I was pulled over by an APD officer for going thirty-nine in a thirty-five, or that Starbucks got my order way wrong. Honestly, how is an iced vanilla latte confused for an iced coffee with caramel? Or it could’ve had something to do with the sporty silver Lexus convertible that had pulled up next to my car and had me in a near panic attack in the middle of
“Hello? Hey, Blake, yeah, she’s finally awake . . . She’s okay, still shaken up from it . . . No, you’re so sweet, but I’ll take care of her today . . . Yeah, I’m sure . . . Okay, love you too. Here she is.”
My head was shaking a no when Candice tried to hand me the phone, and she eventually just shoved it into my palm. I just stood there staring at the front of it in horror. Candice huffed and forced my hand so the phone was pressed to my ear and went to sit back at her desk.
“Y-you—”
“Took care of you,” he said, cutting me off. “I have a witness.”
“No,” I whispered, and glanced up at Candice.
“Who’s going to believe anything you say, Rachel? My own cousin and your best friend saw me taking care of you after you’d been attacked. She saw me hold you after you fainted. She watched me vow I would never let anyone touch you again as you slept. And trust me when I say, Rachel, I will never let anyone else touch what is mine. And you. Are. Mine.”
Who was this man? Where was the Blake I’d grown up with? My heartbeat felt like it stuttered and I sat there in silence as I thought through every different outcome of telling people about what had happened last night.
When I didn’t say anything for a while, Blake spoke again. “Did you just realize that I’d come out the hero no matter what?”
“Stay away from me,” I said shakily, and took a deep breath in as I tried to put some strength behind my words as I repeated them: “Stay away from me, Blake.”
I hit the end button and let my phone fall to my bed before pressing my fist to my mouth to muffle my new sobs.
Candice snatched my phone from me and walked back to her desk. When she was seated she turned her glare on me. “You’re probably just having a freak-out because Blake was the one to take care of you after your traumatic experience.”
“You’re supposed to be my best friend! Why won’t you listen to me?”
“Because even though I love you and I hate what happened to you, you’re being a bitch by accusing Blake!”
I jerked back on the bed. Oh my God. How did she not understand any of this? I wanted to scream at her to listen to me. But I knew Blake was right; no one would believe me. Especially Candice. He was perfect in her eyes. He was perfect in everyone’s eyes. And what proof did I have? None. Nothing but horrific memories.
“Have you told Blake we’re moving into an apartment here this summer?”
“No . . .” She drew the word out and tilted her head to the side. “Why?”
“I don’t want him to know, Candice. I don’t want to see him, I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t—I just don’t want anything to do with him.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” she whispered.
“Please, just don’t! If you won’t believe me, then please just do this for me.”
She shook her head quickly and straightened her back. After a few deep breaths she opened her eyes again. “I know this is all just because you’re going through a lot. I think we should spend a minute apart. Take a Xanax, lie down, and rest. I’ll go pick up some Chinese food and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Then, after you’ve had time to relax, we’ll talk about what really happened to you, okay?” Before I could respond, she grabbed her purse and practically ran out of the room.
I SPENT THE morning and early afternoon writing to my parents at Starbucks, and though it usually left me feeling closer to them, connected somehow, today just wasn’t cutting it. It could’ve had something to do with the fact that I was pulled over by an APD officer for going thirty-nine in a thirty-five, or that Starbucks got my order way wrong. Honestly, how is an iced vanilla latte confused for an iced coffee with caramel? Or it could’ve had something to do with the sporty silver Lexus convertible that had pulled up next to my car and had me in a near panic attack in the middle of
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