Straw Man

by Patrick Logan

  Hanna plugged her opposite ear.

  “What? Mom? I can barely hear you.”

  There was a chuckle on the other end of the line and Hanna felt her face going red.

  “Mom? Ha! Hanna, it’s me—it’s Jill.”

  Hanna breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Jill? Where are you?”

  There was shouting and music playing in the background.

  “I’m at Brett’s! And you should be, too!”

  If I find out you went to that party…

  Hanna closed her eyes and slumped up against the wall.

  “Hanna? He’s asking about you.”

  Her eyes snapped open.

  “What? Who? Who’s asking about me?”

  “Brett. He’s asking about you!”

  Hanna sucked in a deep breath.

  Fuck it. She’ll never know.

  “Can you swing by and pick me up?”

  “What?”

  “Jill, can you pick me up?”

  “Wait, are you coming? For real?”

  Hanna giggled.

  “For real. Come swing by and grab me, k? And hurry.”

  Before I change my mind.

  Chapter 33

  “It’s crazy—it’s absolutely nuts, Hanna. Roy already puked in the sink, and I heard—now, I’m not sure if it’s true, but I heard that Jeremy and Ashley went into Brett’s parents’ room and locked the door. Can you believe that? Ashley and Jeremy?” Jill said feverishly as she pulled into Brett’s driveway.

  She probably shouldn’t have been driving—even though Jill claimed to have had just one drink, her learner’s permit allowed for zero alcohol in her blood—but they’d made it without incident. And Brett’s wasn’t that far, anyway.

  They both hopped out of the car and Jill squealed as she smacked Hanna on the shoulder.

  “I’m so glad you’re here! I thought you were grounded! This is awesome, Hanna! Everyone is going to forget about that bitch Nancy and the whole party thing.”

  Hanna wished her friend hadn’t mentioned her being grounded, and thus bringing about more guilt, but she wasn’t going to let this ruin her mood.

  She also could have done without being reminded about Nancy Culligan’s party.

  “Yeah, my mom decided—”

  “Hanna! Hanna!”

  Both girls turned to face the voice.

  A lanky boy with a blond brush cut walked over to them, a goofy smile on his face.

  “So glad you could make it,” Brett said. Some of the beer in his red cup splashed over the rim and landed on his shoes but he didn’t appear to notice. “Come get a drink with me.”

  Hanna looked to Jill who smiled and cocked her head to one side.

  Go, her friend mouthed encouragingly.

  “Happy birthday, Brett,” Hanna said, turning back to the boy. She gave him a hug. He was wearing a loose-fitting muscle shirt, red with white trim, and smelled faintly of sweat. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, though.

  “Thank you, thank you. Sweet sixteen, baby! C’mon, let’s get you a beer.”

  Brett wrapped his arm around her waist as he led her into the backyard. But instead of going toward the keg set up by the sliding door of the house, Brett flopped down onto an outdoor recliner. Once again, he spilled some beer, this time on his shirt. This too went unnoticed.

  “Oh, shit, your beer,” he said, starting to rise again.

  “No, it’s-it’s okay, I—”

  “Wait, wait.” Brett looked past her. “Matt, grab Hanna a beer, would ya?”

  Matt was chatting up a girl Hanna didn’t recognize.

  “Matt? C’mon, it’s my birthday and my party. Grab her a drink, please?”

  “I said, it’s okay,” Hanna tried to reason, but Brett had made up his mind. As had Matt, evidently.

  “Only cuz it’s your party.” He raised his chin to Hanna. “Hey, Hanna.”

  “Hey, Matt.”

  While she waited for her beer, Hanna stood awkwardly beside Brett and looked around. Jill hadn’t been lying; it was one hell of a party. Nearly two dozen kids were standing in the backyard and perhaps half that many in the swimming pool itself. The latter were the more boisterous of the two, flopping around, splashing on top of inflatable toys. She saw several people she knew from class and gave half-hearted nods and waves that weren’t generally returned. Feeling even more uncomfortable, Hanna looked toward the back door of the house.

  Inside she could see red-faced teenagers laughing with their mouths wide, tongues and lips whetted by alcohol.

  “You okay?”

  “Huh?” Hanna looked down at Brett. He was grinning. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for the invite.”

  Thanks for the invite? Hanna cringed. Jill had been invited, not her.

  “Hey, no problem.”

  Where the fuck is Jill, anyway?

  “Weren’t you grounded, though?”

  Hanna felt her cheeks get hot.

  Thanks, Jill.

  “Yeah, I mean… I was, but you only turn sixteen once, right?”

  Brett’s smile broadened.

  “Speaking of which, isn’t your birthday coming up?”

  “In a month or two,” Hanna replied coyly.

  “Yo, we need to have a party at your place. It’s bigger than mine and there are at least sixty people here tonight.”

  Hanna thought about her mother, about her classmates being in her house, leaning up against counters, being loud, being teenagers.

  There is literally zero chance of that happening.

  “Maybe,” she said. “Maybe. No pool though.”

  “Here’s your drink, Hanna,” Matt said, appearing out of nowhere. He offered her a red cup and she took it.

  Not much of a beer drinker, not really a drinker at all, Hanna hesitated but eventually took a sip. She needed something to make her feel less uncomfortable. She could also use a cigarette, but the asshole wannabe thugs had stolen those.

  “You wanna sit?” Brett asked as he scooched over and tapped the plastic lounge chair.

  “Sure.”

  Hanna smoothed her skirt and took a seat. The awkwardness she felt only increased when Brett started to comb his fingers through her hair.

  What is he doing?

  “Your hair is so pretty,” Brett said.

  Hanna had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. She swallowed some more beer and then turned to face him, letting his hand fall away without embarrassing the birthday boy.

  She still couldn’t seem to get comfortable. Even though Hanna was determined to repair her reputation, and had been genuinely excited for the party, something didn’t feel right about any of this.

  Grow up, she scolded herself, but the feeling refused to go away.

  “You have a cigarette?”

  “Are you kidding me? Coach would kill me if I even took a drag. Like seriously murder me. But I think… hold on a second…”

  With a grunt, Brett pushed himself to his feet, whistled, and then gestured wildly at someone on the other side of the pool.

  Hanna, grateful for the breathing room, glanced around once more. This time, her eyes seemed to be drawn to Jill. Her friend was inside the house, giggling and pressing herself up against what looked like a pair of seniors. When their eyes met, Hanna gestured for Jill to come over. The girl resisted, shaking her head, but Hanna insisted.

  “I’ll be back, Brett. Gimme a sec.”

  They met halfway.

  “I’m sorry, Jill, but I think I’m going to go.”

  Jill gawked.

  “What do you mean? You literally just got here. Like one minute ago.” Her words were heavily slurred.

  Hanna glanced down at the cup in her hand and was surprised to see that it was empty.

  “I know, but…” I feel weird. Something doesn’t seem right about this, Brett’s being a bit of a creep, and if my mom finds out I came here tonight, she’s going to lose it. “…I’m just tired.”

  “No way, Hanna,” Jill protested. S
he looked over her shoulder toward the house. “Those are seniors. Seniors. And they can’t keep their eyes off me.”

  “Who cares, Jill. They’re losers, eighteen-year-olds at a sweet sixteen party. I just—I just want to go. Please—you know I wouldn’t do this to spite you. I hate to do it, really, but something’s… off. And you always said that if one of us doesn’t feel comfortable…”

  Jill scowled.

  “C’moooon,” she pleaded. “I want to stay. Why’d you even make me pick you up if you were just going to leave?”

  “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. But this is the party of the year. They could be talking about this for months, Hanna. I’m staying until the very end. I told my mom I was crashing at your place—”

  “Wait, you said you were sleeping at my house?”

  Jill shrugged.

  “Yeah, what does it matter? Your ‘rents aren’t even there.”

  Hanna furrowed her brow.

  “Because! If your mom calls my mom, I’m fucked. I wasn’t supposed to leave the house or have people over. You know that.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, lighten up, Hanna. Have some fun. Your ma isn’t going to find out.”

  “Jill—”

  “Just relax, hang out. We’ll go soon, promise.”

  Before Hanna could protest further, Jill spun and headed back inside toward the two leering seniors. Only they didn’t look like seniors anymore. They looked like college kids.

  “Forget this shit,” Hanna grumbled. She was about to toss her cup to the ground and storm off when Brett returned.

  “Hey, girlie, found your smoke.”

  “Thanks,” she said, accepting the cigarette. He also provided the lighter, and she was grateful that he offered to spark it. Her vision had started to blur a little.

  Hanna inhaled deeply and immediately regretted it. She was forced to hold her breath to prevent from coughing, which only caused more nicotine to flood her system. Hanna’s blurred vision became worse and she was struck by a sudden bout of extreme lightheadedness.

  Brett wrapped his arm around her shoulders to keep her steady.

  “Whoa, whoa. Little too much to drink?”

  “Maybe,” Hanna said, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. The toxic air was followed by a small cough. “I think I need to sit.”

  “Yeah, a little too much to drink,” Brett confirmed as if answering his own question.

  He teased the cigarette from between her fingers, took a drag—so much for what the coach thought—and then dropped the nearly full smoke to the patio at his feet. He didn’t even bother stamping it out.

  “I wanna go home.” Hanna hated the way she sounded, like a baby, the baby her mother had grounded, but she was more concerned with the fact that she was on the precipice of vomiting. Even though she didn’t drink often, Hanna had been drunk before—twice. This time felt different, though.

  And she’d only had one beer.

  “Maybe you should lie down, take a little rest,” Brett offered.

  “Thanks, but I jjjjjus’ wanna go home.”

  “You can’t let your parents see you this way, Hanna—they’ll call my folks. Take a quick rest, sober up, then I’ll take you home. Promise.”

  Most of Hanna’s body weight was being supported by Brett now.

  “My… parents… arrrrren’t… home…”

  “Even better, you can just crash here for the night.”

  Hanna blinked several times, each one slower than the last. And during those flashes, before everything went dark, she only saw one thing.

  Brett’s big white smile.

  Chapter 34

  Pain.

  That was all Hanna felt.

  Just pain, down low, between her legs, as if she were being repeatedly stabbed by a blunt object.

  Hanna opened her eyes, but immediately shut them again; the world was spinning too fast, and it wobbled like a drunken dreidel.

  Someone close to her was breathing heavily.

  And grunting.

  Hanna forced her eyes open, clenching her teeth against the pain and also in an attempt to center herself.

  Her gaze immediately fixated on one thing, which caused the spinning to halt. A set of bright, gleaming, and perfectly straight teeth.

  “Brett?” she gasped. “Brett? What are you doing?”

  He wasn’t even looking at her; he was staring somewhere over her head.

  “Brett?”

  A drop of sweat from his chin landed on her open eye, causing Hanna to blink rapidly. Confusion filled her, washed over, flooded her senses. The last thing she remembered was taking a drag of a cigarette.

  And then she’d woken up here, with Brett on top of her.

  Fucking her.

  Raping her.

  “Brett, stop,” she ordered, but her voice was meek, tired. “Brett.”

  The boy ignored her and kept on thrusting.

  Hanna tried to push him off, but this only seemed to encourage him.

  “Yeah, yeah… you like that,” he gasped.

  Stop, her mind screamed, Brett, stop!

  Hanna scratched Brett’s narrow chest, raking his tanned skin. Like her weak blows, this only served to add to Brett’s excitement. Knowing that there was nothing she could do, Hanna closed her eyes and lay back, allowing herself to go numb.

  It didn’t last long. A few seconds later, Brett grunted and then shuddered. Three final jerks and the boy pulled out of her. His chest sticky with sweat, Brett flopped onto his back beside her.

  Go away, Hanna thought, but didn’t say. Tears forced their way between her clenched lids and wet her cheeks.

  “So, that was your first time?” Brett’s voice was normal again, regaining the same calm, and slightly jovial tone that he’d used when Hanna had first spotted him near the backyard gate.

  She mustered all of her strength to roll onto her side, but this proved to be a mistake; Brett started playing with her hair again like he’d done on the lawn chair.

  The feeling of his fingers near her made Hanna want to vomit.

  “Is it? ‘Cuz it only hurts the first time, Hanna. Just the first.”

  The implication was obvious: he was going to do it to her again. Maybe not now, not tonight, but someday.

  Hanna swallowed the bile that filled her mouth.

  “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Brett said, his voice going softer still.

  Hanna needed to hold something, to squeeze something, a sensation not unlike when she sucked a hard candy for too long and couldn’t resist crunching it beneath her teeth. She reached out, intent on grabbing a pillow but instead felt her backpack.

  This was even more comforting than any pillow. Especially one that might have smelled like him.

  Hanna wrapped her arms through the straps and pressed it against her chest. Something hard dug into her ribs and she found herself unzipping the bag and reaching inside without thinking. Her fingers quickly found the object of discomfort, but it took several more moments for her mind to comprehend what it was.

  “Hanna? I’m sorry if I hurt you, but next time, it’ll be better. Promise.”

  “Next time,” Hanna repeated. She grabbed the object in her hand and clutched it.

  “Yeah, next time—you liked it, right? I mean, even if it hurt?”

  That was it, the final straw. Hanna had had enough.

  She pulled the object out, while at the same time rolling over and onto her knees. In one fluid motion, Hanna straddled Brett, surprised that the nausea and dizziness were almost completely gone.

  “Hanna? What the fuck?”

  Hanna, tears streaming down her cheeks, pointed the gun directly at Brett’s forehead.

  “You raped me,” she said between clenched teeth. “You fucking raped me.”

  Spit sprayed from her lips and landed on Brett’s sweat-soaked chest. The boy looked genuinely confused, which only angered her further.

  “I didn’t… Hanna, you wanted it… you—”

>   “I wanted it?” Hanna spat. “I wanted it? I didn’t even know where I was.”

  “But… but you wanted it,” Brett pleaded. “I—I—I thought you did.”

  “I didn’t want it,” Hanna shot back, inching the gun closer to Brett’s forehead. His eyes were wide and wet now, much like her own. “I wanted to leave. I told you that.”

  “Hanna, please…”

  Brett was sobbing now. He truly was pathetic.

  Hanna’s finger moved from the guard to the trigger.

  “Please, please, don’t… no… I’m sorry. Oh, god, oh, god, please…”

  If it had been a real gun, Hanna might have pulled the trigger, so intense were her feelings of violation and betrayal.

  But it wasn’t real. It looked real, but it was just a plastic toy.

  Hanna peeled herself off Brett and moved to the side of the bed. There, she quickly dressed, keeping him rooted in place with the barrel of the gun.

  “I never wanted you,” she hissed. “You’re disgusting… a pathetic rapist.”

  With these parting words, Hanna shoved the gun into her bag and hurried out of the room.

  Jill was in the kitchen and saw Hanna rush by.

  “Hanna? What’s wrong? Hanna?”

  But Hanna didn’t stop.

  She just kept on running.

  Chapter 35

  Unlike when Hanna had run away from home, when she fled Brett’s, she knew exactly where she was going. And with every step she took away from the boy’s house and the boy himself, her feelings of pity started to dissipate.

  This was quickly and fully replaced by anger. Her crotch still ached, a pain she was positive would never go away completely, but the rest of her had already started to heal.

  She wouldn’t let Brett and his pathetic little prick ruin her. That was giving him even more than what he’d already stolen.

  Hanna’s brisk walk soon became a jog. Then a full-out run.

  She ran for a good hour and even when her feet were more blister than flesh, she kept on going.

  When Hanna finally did stop, she nearly collapsed onto the familiar, cigarette-burned bus stop bench. No longer was she fearful of Cargo Shorts, Muscle Shirt, or even the knife-wielding Robbie. What could they do to her that Brett, a supposed friend, hadn’t already?