Worth It

by Nicki DeStasi

  “Okay, baby, if you’re ready.” He leans over to give me a kiss, and then he pulls back, looking at me expectantly.

  I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and bend my head. “So, I told you that my first year of college was at Westfield State, right?”

  I peek over at him, and he nods.

  I look down at my hands. “So, I went to a frat party with a friend. We were drinking and having fun, and then…” I swallow the thick lump in my throat that threatens to choke me. “To be honest, I’m pretty sure I was drugged because I don’t think I drank that much. Anyway, the next thing I know…” I pause a moment to stop my body from trembling. I’m terrified to say it out loud. It will make it real and not just a nightmare. I fill my lungs with a deep breath and blow it out shakily. “I don’t remember much. I can’t even picture his face, but he was on me. I tried to swat him away, but I was so fucked-up. I couldn’t really move, and he…he…just kept telling me to shut up.” I swallow the disgust in myself and keep going. “When he, um…finished, he, um…just said, ‘Clean yourself up, slut,’ and then he left.”

  After I’ve regained some of my composure, I glance up quickly to see Jed’s jaw clenched in anger. He’s visibly vibrating with it. Oh God, he is mad. I knew he would be. Shit. I wish I could rewind and not tell him. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. Oh fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. I’m disappointed because I thought maybe we could work through it, but I also feel relieved because it actually felt good to tell someone. That relief is squashed forcefully by my regret. I should have thought this through more. If I thought I was disgusting, what would he think? Pain pierces my heart when I realize what he must think of me.

  “I’m sorry, Jed. Do you want me to go?” I whisper hoarsely.

  His jaw drops so fast that I’m momentarily taken aback myself.

  “Hell no. Why would you leave?”

  I look at my hands and shift in my seat, uncomfortable that I have to say it out loud for the first time. “Well…” My cheeks heat, and my voice drops to a whisper. “Because I was raped.”

  His eyes flare briefly before he recovers. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn confused that it’s not even funny,” he says.

  I look at him, my brow furrowing. “Confused about what?”

  He sucks in a deep breath and blows it out. “Anna, I am so sorry that happened to you. I thought it was something like that, and for once, I hate that I’m right. I hate that I can’t do anything about it. I hate that you relive it.”

  I close my eyes slowly, and my shoulders sag with shame.

  Then, he turns to me, reaches over to gently take my hand, and looks at me with sympathy and confusion. “But why would you think I’d want you to leave?”

  Fighting tears, I open my eyes. “Because I was raped,” I rasp.

  His jaw flexes again, and he blows out a breath. “Right, but that doesn’t explain why I’d want you to leave?”

  I’m starting to get irritated myself because this is so hard for me, and he’s making me spell it out. Can’t he see that? “Because I was raped. I’m like”—I wave my free hand around, willing him to get it—“damaged goods or something. I thought you might be mad because I didn’t tell you before we slept together.” Humiliation is staining my cheeks red.

  His mouth drops open, and his eyes grow round. I can almost see the wheels turning in his head as emotions—astonishment, surprise, anger, annoyance—flit across his face.

  “Tell me you’re joking.” He shakes his head. “You’re not joking, are you?” He looks back at me. “Who told you that?”

  I blink, surprised by his reaction, but I manage to get out, “Um, no one. I never told anyone.”

  “How long ago did this happen?”

  “Um…about four years ago.”

  “And you never told anyone?” he asks incredulously.

  “I was embarrassed,” I explain nervously.

  He puts a hand to his forehead and scrunches closed. “Anna, I…” He looks back over at me. “I don’t really know what to say. I’ve never talked to anyone who’s gone through this, so I’m having trouble finding the right words.” He looks across the room, sucks in a quick breath, and blows it out slowly before returning his attention to me.

  Taking my face in his hands, he says, “Anna, you are a beautiful, smart, strong woman that some fucking shitbag took advantage of. That doesn’t make you damaged, not at all.” He brings my face closer to his and looks at me with determined eyes. “Please, please get that, Anna. You are beautiful, inside and out, and nothing anyone does can take that away from you. Your beauty is part of you. You went through a horrible experience, yes, but it doesn’t make you any less wonderful. Do you get that?”

  I try to lean away because his intensity is staggering, and so are his words. I’m trying to accept what he’s saying, but they’re at odds with everything I’ve believed for so long. It’s like putting a square piece into a round hole. It doesn’t fit.

  Believe it, Anna. He’s right.

  Although it’s difficult to really believe his words, hearing them is like a massive boulder has been lifted from my back. I’m relieved that he doesn’t hate me, that he hasn’t rejected me. Finally getting the incident off my chest is freeing and makes my heart feel so much lighter.

  “Thank you, Jed.” I lean forward and place a chaste kiss on his lips. “I appreciate you saying that.”

  He smiles ruefully and kisses my nose. “But you get it, right?”

  I don’t, but I really don’t think that’s going to change tonight. “Sure.”

  He smiles again and rolls his eyes before nabbing the remote. He settles back, curling me into his arms. He kisses the top of my head and says, “I don’t think you do, baby, but you will. I’ll help you.”

  I lay awake with Anna curled up next to me, asleep in my bed. I finally got her to spend the night here, and it’s the first time we haven’t had sex. Not that I wouldn’t want to, but I didn’t think I should try. I think I know now the reason she never wanted to spend the night. She was afraid to have a nightmare and face everything behind it. I hate what happened to her. My gut twists when I think about the unnamed fucker. How could someone do that? The thought that she was drugged and it was preplanned makes me want to vomit.

  I’m falling hard for this girl. I want to shelter her, protect her, and shield her from anyone and anything that would want to hurt her. The longer we’re together, the more we share, and the stronger our connection gets. It’s fucking awesome. It’s way better than I thought it would be.

  I look down at her sleeping face and her tiny little body covered by my T-shirt. She’s so fucking beautiful that it makes my heart squeeze, especially when she’s like this—peaceful.

  I can’t fucking believe that she thought she was damaged goods. I was so goddamn frustrated. I wanted to jump up and throw my fist through a wall that anyone would think that, let alone her. Just the idea alone is so fucking ludicrous that I can’t wrap my head around it. It makes me see how broken she is though.

  I think there’s more to her past. The way she reacts to shit—absolute terror with anger and the way she looked at me when I grabbed her arm—makes me think there’s more. That idea makes me sicker—and angry. I wish that I lived in a Back to the Future world, so I could jump in a DeLorean and drive eighty-eight miles an hour, so I could go back and protect her from that fucking dickshit and whatever else she’s handled.

  The fact that she shared with me tonight hits me deep. We’ve crossed an important threshold tonight, and I don’t fight the protectiveness that grows stronger. It sucks that the Bachelor Party is tonight. As much as I really want to stay with Anna, solidify us after our emotional night, I need to go because I’m a groomsman and Mark is a close friend. I consider asking Maggie if she minds if Anna comes, but then I remember Anna has her Rock Band thing, and I know how much she looks forward to those. I guess I can always ask if she wants to come with me.

  Anna said she’d rather go to Shannon’s tonight becaus
e she’s not very good at meeting new people and she’d rather meet everyone next weekend when she could have me as a buffer. It sucks, but as much as I want to, I don’t push.

  So now, I’m walking up the sidewalk to Mark and Maggie’s place when Mark opens and then closes the door behind him. He looks worried, and I tilt my head to the side.

  He holds out his hands. “I need to warn you before you go in there.”

  I raise an eyebrow, and I’m sure I look as confused as I feel. “Well, hey to you, too, dude. What the hell’s the deal?”

  “Danielle is in there.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Just listen, man. You know Maggie and Danielle still talk,” he starts and I nod. “So when Maggie was talking to Danielle a few weeks ago, Danielle just said that she’d love to be a bridesmaid even though Maggie didn’t ask her. You know how Mags is, and she can’t do confrontation, so she just let it go. Now, Danielle is a bridesmaid, and they’re in there planning shit. We’re going to be in the basement most of the night, so you won’t—”

  “Son of a bitch,” I growl, shaking my head in exasperation. “She’s something else.”

  “Yeah, I know, buddy. I’m sorry.”

  I purse my lips. Last time I had even remote contact with that bitch was when I called her mother over seven months ago. I hope and pray she’s moved on because I don’t want that conniving slut anywhere near me. I inwardly gag, thinking about all the time I wasted with her. “It’s fine, dude. I haven’t heard from her in a while. Hopefully, she can act like an adult.”

  He chuckles. “Good luck with that. I just wanted to warn you. Let’s grab you a beer.”

  “All right, man, thanks. I think I’m going to need it.”

  When we get into the house, I take my coat off, and hang it in the closet by the door. After we make a pit stop by the fridge, I follow Mark down the basement stairs with a beer in hand, and I thank my lucky stars I didn’t run into Danielle. I think the girls are in Maggie’s home office, painting their nails or some shit.

  As the guys come into view, I realize I must be the last one here because John, Shawn, and Mark’s brother, Dave, are already sitting around the table, shooting the shit. John is the perpetual bachelor, and unlike me, he enjoys it. Shawn is somewhat shy and recently engaged. Dave has a longtime girlfriend, and he’s also funny as shit. There’s another guy sitting at the table, taking a hit off a joint. It takes me a minute to place him.

  As we near the table, Mark says, “You remember Todd, right?”

  Oh, now, I remember. Blond-haired, green-eyed Todd was Mark’s pot dealer in college, but I haven’t seen him in years. The college we attended, UMass Lowell, is half an hour away. When the occasion calls for it, Mark has someone else to get him his smoke, so I wonder why Todd is here now. The guys smoke weed on once in a while, but it’s never been my thing. I never liked Todd because something was always off with him. My gut instinct told me that he was a jackass, but I’ve never been the kind of guy to be an asshole without good reason. As of yet, Todd hasn’t given me a reason.

  “Hey, man. How you doing?” I ask as I stick out my hand for a shake.

  He clasps my hand. “I’m all right. Just moved back to Groton because my aunt died and left me her house.”

  His nonchalant expression throws me for a second, but I guess that explains why he’s here.

  “Sorry to hear that. Have you been in town long?”

  “Nah, just got the call on Tuesday. Worked out well though. I was in some deep shit back in Lowell, and I needed to get the fuck out. You know how that shit is.”

  I actually have no idea, but I nod anyway.

  “All right, pussies,” John says, “let’s get down to business. My deal.”

  “Fold,” Mark says, throwing his cards on the table. He turns to me. “All I’m getting is shit cards tonight.”

  “Call.” I toss two quarters into the pot and smirk at him. “Maybe you’re just a shit player.”

  “Fuck you, asshole. You’re just lucky tonight. I owned you last time.”

  I roll my eyes. “You cheated, shithead.”

  He gives me a keep-telling-yourself-that look. “Speaking of lucky, how are you and pizza chick doing?”

  “Great, man. Really good. I think I’m falling for her. She’s fucking amazing.”

  “Amazing in bed, right?” Todd asks.

  I flatten my lips and bite back my angry retort. “None of your fucking business,” I finally respond.

  “Aw, come on, you said she’s wicked hot. She must be good in bed,” John taunts.

  “Don’t be a fucking asshole, John,” I grit out.

  “Whoa, whoa, buddy. Relax. Just guy talk here,” John says, holding his hands up.

  I roll my eyes, but I know he’s right. We’ve always discussed the chicks we hook up with, leaving out the gory details. I don’t need the visuals.

  “Sorry, man. You’re right. I just don’t need any of you assholes leering at her next weekend.”

  “That good, huh?” John shoots back.

  I throw him an irritated look, and he chucks his head back in laughter.

  “I’m glad it’s working out for you. That’s great,” Mark says.

  I move my scowling face from John to look over at Mark. “Yeah, it really is, man. Thanks.”

  “Awesome. Good for you, dude,” Shawn says.

  “Thanks.”

  “All right, pussies, enough of this bitch talk. Show your hands,” John says.

  “Straight flush, fucker.” I throw back at him. “How do you like them apples?”

  “You and your fucking movie quotes. This isn’t Good Will Hunting,” John says.

  John and Mark both toss down their cards.

  “You asshole. I had a straight,” Shawn complains.

  My grin deepens as I grab the pile of quarters from the middle of the table, and I scoop them toward me.

  “All right, I need to hit the head. Let’s take a break and be back here in ten,” I say and stand when I hear their agreement.

  After climbing the stairs from the basement, I make my way to the bathroom. I do my business and then check my phone to see Anna’s reply to my earlier text that said, Hey, baby, missin’ you.

  Miss you, too, baby. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

  I shoot her a quick reply.

  Me, too. Dream of me.

  I open the door, grinning. While tucking my phone into my pocket, I glance up to see Danielle waiting against the wall.

  I lift my chin as if to say, Hey, and I turn toward the hall to go back downstairs. Then, she reaches out and wraps her evil claws around my bicep, stopping me.

  “We need to talk,” she says quietly, looking up at me with big puppy-dog eyes.

  I almost laugh at her attempt to look sweet and innocent. “No, we don’t.” I brush her hand off me and turn away.

  “Wait!” she calls out softly.

  I sigh heavily before turning back to her. “What?”

  “We need to talk about us,” she coos, continuing the sweet act.

  I growl in frustration that she’s still pushing the issue after all this time. I try very hard to act like an adult when I reply, “Danielle, there is no us. There hasn’t been for a while, and I’m seeing someone else.”

  Her face contorts into anger briefly before she pulls herself back together, recovering her sweet face. “We’re supposed to be together. You need to leave her.”

  I look at her, shocked, before I bust out laughing and shake my head. I’m not even going to respond to that bullshit, so I just leave her standing in the hall, and I make my way back downstairs.

  I open my eyes slowly and squint at the light coming in through the windows, and I groan. I should have closed the blinds, knowing this room faced east. Man, I only had a few beers. We stayed up wicked late, playing poker. It can’t be earlier than seven or eight in the morning, and I think we all crashed around three or four. I groan again and shift my weight, trying to get comfortable and go back t
o sleep.

  Need more sleep.

  An arm comes around my waist, and I practically leap out of my skin. I launch into a seated position quickly, and I turn my body to see who the fuck is in bed with me. I stare down in disgusted horror when I see Danielle wearing a skimpy little nightie.

  She smiles seductively up at me. “Morning, baby,” she purrs, looking at me with half-lidded eyes.

  I’m stunned speechless for a second before I finally spit out, “What the fuck?”

  She flinches before recovering. “Didn’t you enjoy last night?” she coos, reaching over to trail her fingers on my chest.

  I swat her hand away, fighting the urge to shudder and roll my eyes at her tactics. “I had four beers over a six-hour period, Danielle. I’m not fucking stupid. I enjoyed playing poker with the guys last night, and nothing else happened. Cut the shit.”

  She clenches her jaw slightly before running her tongue along her upper lip, attempting to be seductive. “You didn’t enjoy our lovemaking? I know I did.”

  I think she’s officially landed in crazy psycho-bitch territory—if she wasn’t there already. “We didn’t fuck, and we’re not getting back together. I’m seeing someone else, so cut the fucking shit.”

  She ignores me and sits up slowly, pushing out her nearly see-through covered chest. She lifts her hand to run her fingers along her cleavage. She gives me a look that she must think is sexy, but I shudder.

  “Come on, baby, we had fun when we were together. She can’t possibly give you what I can.”

  “Like what? An STD?” God, I don’t know what I saw in her.

  Sure, she’s gorgeous and good in the sack, but now, I’ve been with Anna, who rocks my world like I never knew possible. I know what I have with her—my sexy, sweet, beautiful Anna. Danielle might be fine for someone else—a masochist maybe—but I want nothing to do with this bitch in front of me.