10 Years

by Bethany Lopez

  “You know, you’re the prettiest girl here, Gwen.”

  His words wrapped around my alcohol-numbed brain like a hug.

  “Thanks,” I said, suddenly shy. I knew I was okay to look at, but I’d never had a guy compliment me on my looks. I liked it. He made me feel special.

  “Can I get you another drink?” Brad asked, gesturing to my now-empty cup.

  “Sure, these are really good.”

  “They’re my specialty,” he said with another sparkly grin. “Be right back.”

  I stood there, suddenly flushed, nervous, and unsure what to do with my hands.

  Did he like me? Was I finally going to have a guy I’d crushed on return my feelings? Was I about to have my first kiss?

  “You’re crazy,” I whispered to myself. Then chastised myself for speaking out loud. If Brad heard me, he would think I was crazy.

  I suddenly wished for a mint, or a piece of gum. What if Brad kissed me and my breath was bad… That would be horrible!

  I looked up at a noise and saw Dave standing in the doorway staring at me. I was about to wave, but then noticed the weird look on his face, and suddenly felt uncomfortable.

  “Here you go,” Brad said as he walked by Dave and said something to him so quietly that I couldn’t hear, causing Dave to walk away.

  “Thanks,” I said as he handed me a fresh cup, then I nodded toward the doorway. “What was up with Dave?”

  “Don’t worry about him,” Brad assured me with a grin. “I told him to take a hike.”

  He put his arm around my shoulder, and although my first instinct was to shift away, I remembered Craig and that girl from the kitchen, and decided it was time for me to open myself up to new possibilities. So, instead of moving away, I snuggled in closer.

  We chatted about movies for a while as I drank, and I didn’t even notice until later that he wasn’t drinking at all. In fact, looking back, I’d guess that he was stone-cold sober.

  After a while he asked if I wanted a tour of the house, to which I said yes. We walked down the hall, then up the stairs, and he maneuvered me down the hall to the last door on the right.

  “This is my room,” he said as he walked in after me.

  I walked around, looking at the numerous trophies he had around the room, then paused in front of the dresser he had lined with pictures. They were of him. Different ages, wearing different uniforms.

  I picked one up. He was about eight, wearing an orange soccer jersey, his foot propped up on a ball.

  “You were so cute.”

  “You don’t think I’m still cute?” he asked from right behind me.

  He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me, taking the frame out of my hand and placing it back on the dresser behind me.

  I felt light-headed and nervous. I licked my lips and stared at his teeth as I responded quietly, “You’re still cute. For sure.”

  He chuckled, bringing his hand up to the base of my neck, running it up and into my hair as he replied, “Good.” Then he leaned in and gave me my first kiss.

  It was wet, weird, yet made me feel heady. Well, maybe it was the alcohol that did that, but I enjoyed the kiss. Really I did, it’s just that after that initial slow dance of his hands in my hair and his lips on mine, everything started to go really fast.

  I registered that we were walking backward, his lips still on mine, and that his hands were roaming, but when I hit the bed and fell back, I was momentarily stunned. I didn’t have a chance to think or speak before his body covered mine. The kissing was nice, and my body felt warm, so I brought my hands up to his hair and ran my fingers through it. I remember how soft it was, and I was surprised because I thought he must put gel or something in it, to make it look so perfect all the time.

  I don’t know why that’s what I always remembered, how soft his hair felt against my hands.

  Not how he’d managed to push my skirt up and pull my panties down without my noticing.

  Not how he’d unzipped his pants and pulled out his penis, but left his pants on.

  And not how I’d gone from having my first real kiss, to losing my virginity.

  When I felt a painful push, then a burning sensation, it registered that I was in fact losing my virginity. I tried to work out how I was feeling as I seemed to drift in and out of reality. My legs were open, allowing room for his hips, which were currently thrusting into me, and the burn was beginning to subside. He was propped up on his hands, so I didn’t feel his weight, but I could feel the rough denim of his jeans against my thighs. His eyes were closed, and he had a look on his face that clued me in to the fact that he was enjoying himself, although I wasn’t really gaining any pleasure from what he was doing. It mostly felt like an intrusion. Like an unwelcome visitor in my body.

  Had I inadvertently given Brad mixed signals? Had my crush been so obvious that he thought this was what I wanted? Questions and uncertainty rolled through me, along with the alcohol fogging my brain.

  I turned my head, and felt nausea run through me when I saw Dave sitting in the chair against the wall. He had a beer in one hand, and his dick in the other, and his attention was rapt on what Brad was doing.

  I closed my eyes tightly, willing myself to wake up from this horrible dream, but when I opened them, Brad was still on top of me, and Dave was still watching.

  Wanting a cloak of invisibility, I reached my hand out and grasped at the cover that we were laying on. When I was finally able to grab it in my hand, I bunched it up and pulled it toward me, until the bottom of the comforter was on the bed. Then I latched on to the end of the comforter and yanked it up and over our bodies, successfully covering the lower half, but unfortunately not enough to cover our heads, which was my intention.

  Later I’d realize that the entire production lasted only about five minutes, but it felt like an eternity to me.

  I turned my head to the other side of the room and closed my eyes. I’m not sure if I passed out, or just drifted away in my mind, as I waited for Brad to reach whatever conclusion he was looking for, but a few seconds later, everything was still.

  My eyes were still squeezed shut when Brad slid out of me, kissed my temple, and said, “Thanks, Gwen.”

  I kept them closed until I heard the door open and what sounded like feet shuffling out. Then I peeked through my lids, looking all around the room to make sure they were both gone.

  When I was certain they were gone, I threw the covers off and brought myself up to a sitting position as I reached down for my panties, which were dangling off my right ankle. I paused in horror as I noticed the reddish-brown stain on Brad’s blue comforter.

  “He’s gonna have to wash that or it’ll never come out,” I murmured to myself as I struggled to get my underwear on and exit the bed, without touching the offensive stain.

  I was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at Brad’s trophies and trying to remember whether or not he’d even used a condom, when I heard a commotion at the door.

  “There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Craig’s voice said from behind me.

  I turned my face toward the comforting sound of his voice, but couldn’t find it in me to respond.

  “What the fuck?” he asked angrily when he looked me over and saw the tears running silently down my face. Craig rushed into the room and over to my side, placing his arm around my shoulder and inquiring, “What happened, Gwen?”

  I could hear the fear and rage in his voice, even as I felt the comfort of his arm around me, but instead of answering his question, I leaned forward and threw up the contents of my stomach.

  Chapter Eleven ~ Craig

  (16 years old)

  As I listened to the sound of my best friend retching, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the stain on the comforter. The rage I felt was so acute that it was taking every ounce of control not to tear through the room like a wild animal and go on a hunt. I concentrated on keeping my touch gentle as I stroked Gwen’s back in what I hoped was a soothing pattern.


  When she gagged one final time, then drew in a shaky breath as she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth, I could no longer hold my tongue.

  “Who was here, Gwen?” I asked softly against her ear. “Where did he go?”

  “I don’t know… they left.” Her voice was scratchy from the excessive vomiting, but all I heard was that one pronoun.

  “They?” My skin itched with the rage rippling through me. “Jesus, fuck, Gwen. Talk to me. Who are they?”

  She turned her head toward me then. Her eyes looked alarmingly vacant, and her face confused.

  “No,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s not what you think… Dave just watched.”

  I stood up swiftly, unable to care that I walked through Gwen’s puked as I stomped up to the dresser and kicked it as hard as I could. The cheap wood broke, and my foot became momentarily lodged as I let out a string of curses.

  Mother-fucking Dave was going to die.

  “Craig,” the sound of Gwen’s shaky voice had my head clearing, and when I finally retrieved my foot from the dresser, I turned to her as I ran my hands over my hair, then down my face.“Are you okay?”

  I dropped my hands.

  Did she seriously just ask me that?

  “No, Gwen, I’m not okay… Who was with Dave?”

  I marched back to her, avoiding the puke this time, and pulled her up off the offensive bedding.

  She brought her eyes to mine, and they were filled with trust, and something I couldn’t name.

  “Brad.”

  I turned, hell-bent on revenge, when Gwen called to me.

  “Can you get me out of here?”

  I turned back to my best friend and knew justice would have to wait… she had to be taken care of first.

  “Do you want me to carry you?”

  “No, just take my hand and stay in front of me,” she pleaded. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

  She looked embarrassed, which just pissed me off more, but I abided by her wishes.

  I walked her through the crowded party, calling out to people as I passed, trying to look as normal as possible, when inside, I felt like the Incredible Hulk was about to be unleashed.

  When she was settled in the passenger seat, I got in, turned the key and cranked it.

  “Home?”

  “No, please… I don’t want to talk to anyone tonight,” Gwen said, her head laid back and eyes closed. “Can you take me to your place?”

  “Sure,” I responded after a moment. I’d been hoping to take her home, then head back to the party and find Brad and Dave, but it looked like that would have to wait even longer than I’d planned.

  When we got to my house, I parked in the driveway, then let us in to the side door off of the kitchen, since it was closer to my room. When we entered, my mom popped her head in the doorway, but I just shook my head at her and kept walking Gwen to my bedroom. Once we got inside I maneuvered her to the side of the bed, and when she sat, I crouched in front of her.

  “Do you want me to call the cops?”

  Her head came up quickly, and she looked startled as she responded, “No, why?”

  “Why?” I asked, not understanding her confusion. “So you can get checked out and press charges against those assholes.”

  “Press charges?” Gwen shook her head and her eyes welled up. “I don’t know what you think happened, Craig, but there’s nothing for me to press charges for.”

  I didn’t think arguing with her right then would help, so I decided not to argue with her when she was still so fragile. Still, I had to try to make her understand… “Gwen, Brad and Dave had no right to do what they did to you.”

  Gwen brought her haunted eyes to mine and said simply, “I never said no.”

  I wanted to scream whether or not she said no was not the point.

  I wanted the ability to time-travel, so I could transport her back to the beginning of the party and never leave her side.

  I knew I needed to get away from her for a minute, before I lost my ability to keep my cool, so rather than doing either of those things, I brought my hand to her cheek and caressed it, “I’ll be right back. You need anything? Water?”

  “I’m freezing,” she stated, even though it had to be eighty degrees outside. “Can I borrow your jacket?”

  She gestured toward my Dodger jacket, which was resting on my desk chair, so I walked over and picked it up, then handed it to her. I watched as she put it on, then laid on her side and snuggled into the jacket. Using it to cover her face.

  My heart pounded painfully as I imagined all of the horrible things that could have happened to her, and I vowed that I’d make them pay, and she’d never feel unsafe again.

  Chapter Twelve ~ Craig

  Present Day (20 years old)

  I glanced over to where Gwen was sitting on the couch, not really listening to what Scott and my parents were talking about. She was looking at me, but I could tell she wasn’t seeing me. She was thinking about something, and from the look on her face, I could tell she was stuck in the past.

  I excused myself from the conversation and walked over to her.

  I didn’t care if she wanted to talk to me or not, I couldn’t just ignore what I was seeing.

  “Gwen?” I spoke gently as I sat next to her.

  I watched as her eyes focused and she turned her head toward the sound of my voice. Her voice cracked and the pain in her eyes gutted me. “I need a minute,” she whispered.

  I knew what that meant, so I pulled her to her feet and let her lean on me, without it looking like she was leaning on me, and said, “We’re going out back for a minute. School stuff.”

  As I guided her out, I knew they weren’t fooled by my excuse, just like they hadn’t been fooled by anything Gwen or I had tried to conceal over the past four years. But they allowed it, just like they always did, out of respect for Gwen’s feelings. Plus, I think they thought we’d come to them when we needed to, and were willing to be patient until then.

  “What made you think about it?” I asked as I shut the door behind us and led her to the railing of the deck.

  Gwen’s hand reached out and fingered the cloth of my jacket.

  “Shit, Gwen, I’m so sorry,” I replied with a curse when I realized what I’d done. “It was hanging in my closed and made me think of the time we won the State Championship. I’d worn this after the game, and to the party that night. I never would have worn it if I’d remembered giving it to you that night.”

  “It’s okay, Craig,” Gwen said with a frown. “It’s not your fault.”

  She surprised me by leaning in closer and hugging her arms around me. “You were my rock that night, and after… I don’t know how I could have forgotten that. I’ve been so childish.”

  “Hey,” I replied, lifting her chin to look down into her regret-filled eyes. “You don’t need to do that. I’ve got you, you know that. No matter what.”

  I pulled her tight, then lightly broached the subject that always pissed her off. “Have you given anymore thought to talking with someone?”

  Gwen sighed deeply against me, then shook her head against my chest, “Not now, Craig.”

  “When?” I asked stubbornly. I’d tried for years to get her to talk to someone about what had happened, but she always refused. She’d never told anyone. Not a professional, not family, not even Aliyah. The only people who knew what happened were TJ and me, and she refused to talk about it with either of us.

  When she didn’t answer, I prodded, “I think it would really help you, Gwen. To work things out in your head… what you’re feeling, and maybe help you move forward.”

  “I have moved forward.” Gwen pushed away from me angrily. “Do you really want to do this now? When I’ve realized what a jerk I’ve been, and am ready to put what happened between us behind me and become friends again?”

  I put my hands in my hair, tugging it roughly with frustration.

  “What happened?” I asked, forgetting the reason we came
out here in the first place. “I still don’t know what happened. You’ve never told me, you just disappeared without a trace. One minute we’re at a frat party together during Orientation, and the next you’re cutting me out of your life without a word.”

  “Not now, Craig,” Her voice low and pleading, rather than desperate and angry like mine. The sound managed to cool me down, but the frustration and hurt remained.

  “When?” I asked again. “You don’t want to talk about what happened to you with Brad, or talk about getting help, and you don’t want to talk about what happened to make you hate me… But you want to go back to being my friend? How will that work Gwen? We have to actually work through shit, in order to move on.”

  Gwen put her arms back around me and looked back up at me, her eyes big and full of promise.

  “We will, I swear it, just not today. Not right now.”

  “You’ll tell me what happened?” I asked eager to learn, but at the same time afraid to hear what had torn us apart so quickly and effectively.

  “I promise.”

  “Okay,” I said on a sigh, bringing my arms down to wrap around her waist. “I’ll leave it alone this weekend, but I won’t forget about your promise.”

  Gwen nodded against my chest, then burrowed in for a good hug.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said, causing my heart to squeeze and my eyes fill.

  I brushed at my eyes and looked toward the door to make sure no one was watching.

  “I’ve missed you too, Gwennie,” I replied, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

  I hoped that she was telling the truth, and would be able to come clean. Speaking her feelings had never come easily for Gwen, and I understood why. I totally got it. She was still in denial over what happened. She didn’t think she was raped, date raped, or even taken advantage of… not in her mind. She kept a lock on her emotions, and when something hurt, she shut down, and blocked out the source of her pain. Now that she was letting me back in her life, I was making it my mission to help her heal. I loved her, and as someone who loved her, it was my duty to push her to work through her problems. Even if she fought me every step of the way.