Dissolve

by Hunter, L. V.

  The wrong feeling eats me alive, my skin prickling. I grab our things and dash outside - maybe she went outside for fresh air?

  “Excuse me,” I interrupt a group of people smoking on the curb. “Have you seen a blonde girl in a blue dress walk out of here?”

  “Yeah,” One of them grunts, bobbing his head down the street. “She went that way with a guy. Looked pretty sick.”

  “Shit,” I swear. “Thank you!”

  I start running down the street, but the ballet flats are slowing me down. I stumble as I rip them off and crush them into my purse. My bare feet slap against the cement. The town of Old Haven is a college town, so it’s liveliest on Saturday nights like this, but this street in particular is pretty quiet, and dark. I feel like throwing up at the thought of what that guy is plotting with Trist, but I press on. My legs burn, begging for me to stop.

  A shout echoes among the buildings. I follow it, praying Trist is okay, that there’s still time to save her. She can’t end up like me. She can’t end up like me. It’s a mantra in my panicked head, sticking over and over. She can’t end up like -

  I round the corner and freeze. On the sidewalk, two figures are collapsed. A third figure is kicking one of the two.

  “Next time you wanna be….a fucking prick…” The third figure, a guy, highlights every few words with a kick to the gut of the second figure - a guy as well. “…do us all a favor…and go straight to hell. Do not pass…go. Do not collect…two hundred…dollars!”

  The guy on the ground moans pitifully.

  “Stop!” I yell. The kicking guy turns around, the orange streetlight just enough for me to see his face. I’d recognize those two-toned eyes anywhere now - Kai.

  “Hey, lioness.” He says jovially. His voice is deep and amused, like he’s constantly experiencing some inside joke. “’Bout time you showed up.”

  I kneel at the side of the first figure, whom I recognize now.

  “Trist!” I hold her in my arms. She’s warm, but her eyes won’t move, and her whole body feels limp in my grasp. I snap my head up at Kai. “What the hell did you do to her?”

  “Whoa there,” He holds his hands up in an I’m-innocent gesture. “I didn’t do shit. It was this little prick here who drugged her. When she started to feel it, he pulled her off the dance floor.”

  I put Trist down gently and get up to look at the guy.

  “It’s that creeper,” I hiss. Sure enough, the tawny-haired boy who got too close for comfort at the bar is lying on the ground, but I can barely recognize him - his face is swollen with bruises and his nose is bloody.

  “I might’ve gone a little overboard,” Kai coughs. He takes off his leather jacket and wraps it around Trist. “But the fucker deserved it.”

  I set my lip and help him support Trist. She can’t even stand. He pulls her up into his arms instead like she weighs no more than a pillow.

  “What happens now?” I ask. Kai quirks a brow.

  “Well, I suggest we leave the coward here. I brought my Harley tonight, otherwise I would offer you ladies a ride home.”

  “It’s fine, I’ll call a Lyft.” I pull out my phone and tap furiously on the application. “Shouldn’t we file a police report, or something?”

  “Nah,” Kai shakes his head, dark hair shading his eyes. He quickly blows it out of his face. “Let your friend wake up, first, then ask her if she wants to do anything like that. It’s her choice.”

  “That’s awfully considerate, coming from a -”

  I cut myself off. Seriously, Evelyn? You’re badmouthing the guy who saved your friend’s ass? Kai’s smirk grows wider.

  “Finish your sentence, lioness.”

  “I’m not a lioness,” I snap. “Stop calling me that.”

  “So she says as she tears my head off like a lioness does to a water buffalo,” He chuckles. We’re so close, I can smell the spice of his cologne - or whatever he uses in the shower - tinged with sweat. I’m silent, staring at Trist’s prone body in his arms. If Kai had been a second or two late, what could’ve happened to her? I didn’t even notice when she was gone. What kind of a friend am I?

  “I’ve seen you around,” Kai continues. “All you do is glare at dudes. The only person you smile at is this girl. Or ladies. Don’t tell me,” His face gets a ‘oh shit’ look on it. “You like girls.”

  “Typical male,” My voice is venom. “We’re in a crisis situation and all you can think about is sex. You’re disgusting.”

  “There we go,” He laughs, the sound warm. “For a second I thought you’d gone silent from shock.”

  Trist stirs, and I reach out for her hand.

  “Don’t worry,” Kai asserts. “She’ll be alright. It just takes a few hours to wear off. And there’s a mean after-headache.”

  “You seem awfully knowledgeable about a date-rape drug.”

  He glowers for the first time. “If you’re implying I use them, don’t insult me. Ladies come to me on their own. Besides, guys who force women are scum. No exceptions. Everyone knows that.”

  “Except the scum, apparently.” I glare down at the guy on the pavement.

  “Exactly,” Kai nods. A white car pulls up then, and I wave at the driver.

  “That’s our ride.”

  Kai walks over and I open the door for him to put Trist inside. I slide in when she’s secured, and Kai leans on the door.

  “Sorry about the shitty night,” He says. I squeeze Trist’s hand, watching her breathe evenly. I hope she’ll be okay after this. She doesn’t deserve this, not a single second of it.

  “Thank you. For helping,” I look up at Kai. This time he doesn’t smirk - there’s no heated friction beneath this grin, only soft pleasure.

  “No problem, lioness.”

  I’m about to tell him to knock the nickname off when he closes the door, and the driver takes off down the boulevard, Kai a distant speck in leather watching us go.

  I manage to get Trist into bed in our apartment, and tumble into my own only after I’ve made sure she’s breathing evenly. I kick off my shoes, and I’m out before my head hits the pillow - part dancing exhaustion, part terror exhaustion.

  My nightmares have always been bad.

  Ever since that night in high school, they’ve haunted me. Sometimes I remember them, and sometimes I don’t, but they’re always dark and horrifying, and the next morning I always wake up tense and trembling. If I was any kind of psychologist, I’d probably say it was PTSD, but I don’t have time for something like that in my life. I have a degree to earn, and a life to move on with. I won’t let it rule me. I won’t give in.

  But the nightmares make me give in. And I can’t do anything to stop them.

  My hands are shaking when I wake up. My jaw is too-tight - I must’ve been grinding my teeth. The worst part is my palms; in my sleep I clenched my fists too hard, and deep red welts ooze blood. I manage to bandage them. In the mirror I take deep breaths.

  “It’s okay,” I try to convince myself. “You’re safe.”

  My own voice sounds hollow. Subconsciously, I know I don’t believe my words, so they have little to no effect. But I have to try to comfort myself, at the very least.

  Trist wakes up a few hours after me with a massive headache, just as Kai predicted, and a raging fury none of us predicted.

  “What a shitlord!” She crows around a bowl of oatmeal I made for her. She’s swaddled in a fuzzy blanket on the couch of our tiny two-bedroom apartment. Her shower-wet hair drips comically down the blanket.

  “If I knew the guy’s name, I’d report him to the police and roast his ass!” She growls, shoveling oatmeal gracefully into her face.

  “I didn’t even think about that,” I murmur. “Crap. I’m sorry, Trist.”

  “It’s fine,” She assures me. “How could you have known?”

  “I could’ve checked his wallet or something. I should’ve known he was reaching for the drinks to drop a pill in one of them when he cornered me. I could’ve -”

 
“No, stop,” She holds up a manicured hand. “I won’t let you blame yourself. There was nothing you could’ve done, okay?”

  “But I was there with you! I was supposed to look after you -”

  “What?” Trist laughs. “Oh, Ev. I know you’re the motherly type, but you are seriously silly sometimes.”

  I frown, feeling useless and angry and sad all at once. She reaches out and pats me cheek.

  “Hey, I appreciate everything, okay? I know you always got my back. That’s part of why I love you to death.”

  I feel a little better with her touch, and eat my own oatmeal tentatively.

  “Did Kai…” She trails off. “Just before I passed out, I swear I saw Kai punch the guy. Did he?”

  “I don’t know,” I shake my head. “I got there after it all happened. But he was definitely there.”

  “So Kai saved me,” She muses, a tiny blush blossoming on her cheeks. “Who knew he was so on top of everything? Well, I definitely have to thank him now.”

  She winks, and I groan.

  “You said you’d never sleep with him!”

  “I won’t! But there are…other things I can do.” She grins. I laugh, suddenly glad to have her here with me, so glad she’s alright. Thankfulness floods my every pore. She laughs with me, but when we fall silent I notice the tears in her eyes. I grasp her hand and squeeze tight.

  “I-I was so scared, Evelyn.”

  “I know,” I murmur. “I know you were.”

  She cries in my lap, and I stroke her hair as comfortingly as I can. It reminds me of Mom - the way she stroked my hair as I cried the day after that night at the play. She didn’t know what it was about - I never told her - but she comforted me all the same. She was always the type to pry into my life, but after one or two questions I never answered she didn’t ask again. She just hugged me and told me she’d always be there for me if I needed to talk. It was the silent reassurance I needed. All Dad did, when I visited him for the weekends, was ask about my grades, my plans for the future. He never cared. Only Mom did. He never even saw the inner pain I was struggling with, too wrapped up in his hunting supply store and new, buxom wife to give me the time of day.

  Sex is the only thing men care about, I remind myself as I brush my teeth.

  After Trist calms down, she insists she’s well enough to go to work at the coffee shop - that it would soothe her nerves to do something familiar. She’d gotten ready with all the speed of a hummingbird, cheerily saying goodbye as she ran out the door. She’s so strong. One day I want to be as strong as she is.

  THREE

  I’ve got class in thirty minutes, so I pack my bag and head for the bus. Mom’s alimony wasn’t the sort that allowed her to get me a car on my sixteenth birthday, and Dad didn’t trust me enough to take care of my grades, let alone a car. But he did teach me over one summer, and helped me get my license. For that and only that, I’m thankful to him.

  The bus is fine, but I’m always wary of weird guys. I sit towards the front, preferably by a woman, and put my headphones in. I don’t play any music, because I don’t want to lose one of my senses while I’m navigating streets and bus stops. It’s not smart. So I just pretend to listen to music, that way no one will bother me if they think I can’t hear them.

  I was listening to music, that night. That’s what let him get me.

  I shake my head and focus on the gray world of Old Haven outside the bus window. Seagulls settle in December-naked trees, icy puddles of slush gathering in gutters and on rooftops. The town of Old Haven isn’t big, but it has a mall and a few good restaurants and a decent club scene. Although after last night, I’m not excited to go clubbing anytime soon.

  The bus stops at a red light. I stare at the window at the cars stopped parallel to us. A sleek black motorcycle is right next to us, a girl in a helmet clinging to the driver - a guy with a black helmet and leather jacket. He puts his feet out to stabilize the motorcycle and raises his visor. He looks back at the girl and says something, and she laughs. He catches my eye through the bus window - Kai. Of course it is. Why is he everywhere all of a sudden? I’d seen him other mornings just like this, with a new girl each time, but now I have a name to put to the face. Kai Jackson - the guy who can’t keep his hands off women. The guy who saved my roommate last night.

  He shoots me a smirk - that lazy, self-assured smirk that sends heat under every inch of my skin. Thankfully the light changes, and the bus rumbles away as he revs up. He passes us in a reckless blur, the girl’s joyful screaming piercing through the bus windows easily, her long, luxurious black hair whipping behind her like a banner of midnight. The old woman next to me chuckles and shakes her head.

  “What a little show-off.”

  I smile. She has no idea how right she is. Kai’s motives still haunt me - why did he save Trist? Guys don’t just do something for nothing - they always want something in return, usually sex. And with Kai, I’d say especially sex. Maybe he just wanted to be seen as a good guy, to pump up his ego? That’s also possible. Maybe he just wanted to beat someone up. Maybe he’s violent and bloodthirsty. I have no idea - I don’t know him. He’s a complete mystery to me and only me, it seems.

  The bus stops in front of Montcrest University, and I get off. We aren’t a big campus, nor a public one - Montcrest is a private college, very old, and very respectable. The lawns are yellow and covered in slushy snow, the sidewalks iced over. Icicles hang from the eaves of ancient gothic-architecture-style buildings. It doesn’t have the stellar funding and programs of Stanford or Yale, nor does it have the stringent acceptance ratio, either. It’s a mediocre school that prides itself on having a lot of history - and a ton of old white famous dead dudes on its alumni list. Because it isn’t an Ivy, apparently it’s semi-affordable, too. Not that I would know. Sixty-thousand a year is still a huge amount of money for my family. Dad pays half, and FAFSA pays the rest. Mom contributes to my living expenses, and I’ve been searching for a job since November to lessen their burden, but it turns out no one wants a future English major who wants to teach middle school. But I’ll find something soon. I hope. It’s only my first year - I took a few months off after graduation to take a trip to Spain with my mom, who’s half-Spanish and wanted to visit Spain since forever. After that, I applied to Montcrest and got in for the spring semester. I’ve been here ever since.

  “Evelyn!”

  I turn and watch Mrs. Smalls jog up to me. Her strawberry-blonde hair is pulled back in a bun, and her casual converse and jeans make her a campus favorite. She’s young, too - probably 28 or 29 - and compared to the rest of the fifty-something faculty, she’s a breath of fresh air.

  “Hi Mrs. Smalls,” I smile. She stops in front of me and pants, hands on her knees.

  “Sorry, I haven’t run like that since high school track.”

  “It’s fine! What’s wrong?”

  “Oh,” She looks up at me with hazelnut eyes. “Nothing! I just heard the news - your piece got accepted for the Hilldebrant scholarship!”

  “Holy shit - I mean, crap,” I hiss. “Are you serious?”

  The Hildebrant scholarship is the largest scholarship in the school by far, given only to English majors. Each person is required to submit an essay on the importance of education in the modern world. I’m not the best essay writer; I’m clumsy with my words and always leave the essay until the last-last-last minute, but I try my hardest to make it sound halfway decent.

  “I’m dead serious,” Mrs. Smalls chuckles. “You and three other finalists.”

  “What happens now?”

  “We wait. They’ll judge each, assign the winner. Then there’s a small dinner at a local hotel, you know Bernard’s?”

  “The fancy place with the doorman downtown?”

  “Exactly. There’s an awards dinner there. If you win, that’s a whole year paid, just for you.”

  “Thank you so much!” I bounce on my toes. Mrs. Smalls informed me of the scholarship after she read an essay of mine, and encouraged me
to enter.

  “It was all you, lady. I’m crossing all my fingers and toes,” She laughs. “Alright, I’ll see you in class.”

  She turns and waves as she leaves, nearly slipping on some ice. She gives me a thumbs up to assure me she’s fine, and I laugh. Mrs. Smalls is nothing if not enthusiastic. As I make my way to world history, my head swims with possibilities. A whole year paid. That’s one less year I’m in Dad’s emotional debt. He’s always held money over us like it’s something to be grateful of, and it is, but he uses it to manipulate people. He used it to manipulate Mom, and I try my hardest not to let him manipulate me with it. But whenever a disagreement pops up at family dinners, he always pulls out the ‘who’s paying for your tuition’ card as a way to silence me. It’s getting more frequent, and more annoying. It would only be for a year, but it would be so nice not to have to rely on him.

  I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts I don’t see the ice on the sidewalk. I flail as gravity pulls me any way it wants, and collide with something warm and softer than cement. I blink away the impact, only to come face-to-face with a pair of mismatched eyes.

  “You!” I scrabble off Kai, our limbs practically entwined. The smell of him is everywhere - oil and leather and cinnamon. I can feel every hard edge of his muscles beneath his jeans and jacket. He laughs.

  “Well hey, lioness. You okay? Did you break anything?”

  “Why am I running into you everywhere all of a sudden?” I snap. He clambers to his feet in no particular rush, and runs his hand through his hair casually.