Saving Jazz by Kate McCaffrey

window. At first I hoped it was the wind, a branch knocking against the glass. But it was insistent and followed with, ‘Jazz, wake up. Wake up.’
    I sat up and pulled the curtain back. Jack’s white face appeared in the moonlight. ‘Let me in, something terrible has happened.’
    My heart was thundering in my chest. What terrible thing had happened? What thing more terrible than the last terrible thing could have Jack at my window?
    He was out of breath and trembling as he landed on my bed. His hands were shaking as he offered me his phone.
    â€˜I’m in so much trouble,’ he said, and he was trying not to cry. ‘What the fuck have I done?’
    I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He sat there with his head bowed, his lip trembling. This had to be bad. I looked at the phone. Tapped on Messages and watched the video Tommy had sent Jack. Lily’sroom wavered on the screen. Jack is the cameraman, he zooms in on Annie lying under the blanket (you’ll remember the one I pulled over her, twice). Tommy appears in the shot holding up the marker.
    â€˜Now, what do we want to say?’ Jack makes a muffled noise, maybe a laugh, and Tommy pulls her top over her head. ‘Fuck me,’ Tommy says, staring at Annie’s boobs. He starts writing. Jack laughs. It sickens me. ‘Your turn,’ Tommy offers him the pen. The camera is swapped, it films the ceiling and then Jack is writing across the lower part of Annie’s abdomen. The camera changes hands again. Tommy pulls her shorts off, pulls her knickers down, laughs again. It’s vile and awful. I don’t want to watch, but I have this feeling creeping over me, that there is more than just the writing.
    The next thing Tommy does makes me look away. He turns her over, he writes those words over her arse and then, he sticks his fingers in her. It is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. I think I retch.
    The camera is now filming the ceiling but there is noise recorded. Grunting, laughter, Tommy’s voice, ‘Come on, Jack, your turn.’ The camera shiftsback to Annie, she’s on her back now, her eyes are shut and as it moves down her body, zooming in on her nipples, there’s Jack. He’s pulling his fingers out of her and writing on the inside of her leg.
    The screen goes black.
    â€˜You’re disgusting,’ I spat. I never thought Jack was capable of this — I thought the writing on her, the stripping of her, was beyond comprehension. But he assaulted her. He raped her.
    Jack looked like shit. His hair was a mess and he had the darkest rings under his eyes. His skin had a slightly greenish hue to it. I felt ill to my very core. It felt like my nervous system was going into total shutdown.
    â€˜Jazz,’ Jack said. But I couldn’t look at him. I stared out of the window, the phone still held limply in my hand. What had he done? I couldn’t get it straight in my head. What had they done? I couldn’t speak.
    â€˜Jazz,’ Jack whispered, ‘say something.’
    But what could I say? It’ll be alright, Jack? It’ll blow over? This would never be alright. I didn’t know what to do, or say.
    â€˜Jazz, are you ever going to speak to me again?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ I couldn’t meet his eyes. The sound of his voice made me cringe. I wanted him to get out of my room. I wanted this to all go away. ‘I don’t think I can ever like you ever again.’
    â€˜Jazz,’ he pleaded, ‘I don’t think I can live if you won’t speak to me.’ His voice was muffled in his hands. ‘I’ve done the worst thing ever, but it was a mistake, a drunk and stupid mistake.’
    â€˜You raped her,’ I cried, finally looking at him. ‘You’re a rapist.’
    â€˜No,’ he shook his head from side to side, ‘no.’ That’s when he started sobbing. Heart-wrenching, gut-heaving sobs. He gagged a