Chasing Caitlyn

by Marnie Cate

  My mother daintily began picking up the flowers. "Of course, of course – take care of Caitlyn." She barely looked up to send us off.

  When both bedroom and bathroom doors were shut and locked, Thomas held my hand under cool water, washing away the blood. He led me to the edge of the tub and began to dry my wounds off.

  "What happened, Cat?" he asked. His voice was so sweet and caring that I instantly burst into tears.

  "He raped me." I wasn't sure if the words had actually been said out loud, so I repeated them. "Christopher raped me."

  Thomas' grey eyes blazed with fury. "That son of a bitch. We need to call the police." He pulled his cell out of his pocket.

  I grabbed his hand. "You can't."

  Relenting, he returned his phone to his pocket and dragged me into the walk-in closet. The same place we shared all our deepest secrets. Triple door barriers contained our private conversations.

  Thomas sat down in the middle of the floor and patted the plush carpet. "Tell me what happened, Cat. You were having so much fun when we left."

  I sat down across from him and grabbed his hands. I retold the events of the evening. Thomas' rage turned to pity. When I finished, he blinked away tears and pulled me into his arms.

  "I'm sorry I didn't protect you. I'll fix this." Thomas held tight and stroked my hair. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again, Cat. I love you."

  When I had no more tears to cry, we left our sanctuary for the last time. The secrets I told on that day filled the closet. There would be no more room for more confessions in this once sacred space.

  Thomas fulfilled his promise. The roses were gone, and my mother never mentioned Christopher or Prom again. When I asked Thomas how he had achieved this, he replied, "I told her you caught him making out with another girl at Prom, and how he thought he could get away with it."

  How well my friend knew what made my mother click.

  Returning to school on Monday, I did my best to avoid Christopher. He didn’t speak to me, but I felt him watching me. When I did dare to look, he grinned and blew me a kiss. Chills ran through me. I wasn't safe from him.

  I made sure I was never alone. I didn't know if he would grab me and take off again. Every day, I struggled with wanting to report him, and knowing no one would believe me. Anger filled me as I thought about how I had been lured into his trap.

  Christopher was not my only attacker. The boys who lied about me set me up. They should pay for what they did, but who would believe me? What would the cost be to my life? My mother's?

  With one week left of school, an idea came to mind. It was so crazy I knew I couldn't even tell Thomas my plan.

  Eight

  "Hey, Seth." I leaned against his locker. "We had such a good time on our first date. Why haven't you asked me out again?"

  Seth's eyes shone with excitement. "Because I am stupid," he chuckled. "We should go out again. How about —"

  "Tonight." I moved closer to him. His muscles tensed. "It's Friday night." I pressed my mouth close to his ear and breathily whispered, "Our last date ended too quickly. We have so much more to talk about."

  I kissed his cheek and walked away. I needed to get far away from him before I slapped him across the face and caused a scene.

  "Text me," I called back.

  Before I even started my car, Seth texted me.

  Seth: Dinner at 6?

  Caitlyn: Sounds perfect ☺

  I shoved my phone in my pocket just as Thomas got in the passenger seat of my car. "We should rent a bunch of movies, and pop popcorn tonight. I think I can convince Hillary to whip us up a batch of her marshmallow kind," Thomas suggested.

  "Sorry, Seth asked me out and I said yes," I answered, not looking at him.

  "Why would you go out with that asshole? He lied about you, Cat." I felt his eyes boring into me.

  "Everyone deserves a second chance," I shrugged. "I can't let what happened turn me into a hermit. Honestly, he only said I blew him. Some of the other’s lies were way worse."

  Thomas began to object. I held up my hand, signaling it was too much to talk about. He relented, but I knew he would be on high alert all evening.

  Thomas was so irritated he asked me to drop him off at his house. I didn't have time to worry about his concerns. I spent extra time getting ready, choosing my most sexy sundress. As I looked at my outfit, I knew Seth would be drooling over me.

  And your mother will make you cover up, I told myself. I grabbed a fitted jean jacket and buttoned it.

  "You look beautiful, darling," my mother crooned as she opened the door to greet Seth.

  I slipped in front of her and grabbed Seth's hand. "I'll be home by curfew. Love you," I called as I drug Seth out of her interrogation zone.

  Seth drove us to Carlsbad Village. He planned our evening. First, we would have a nice dinner, and then walk around and soak up the area's activities. The Teppan style restaurant he chose was busy, and our table had six other people with us around the grill.

  "It's warm in here," I said, removing my jacket.

  Seth's mouth fell open in appreciation of my skimpy outfit. Seth was just as charming and polite as the first date.

  The chef joked with Seth. "How such a boy, have such a pretty girlfriend?"

  Seth shrugged sheepishly. The chef responded by flipping one of the cooked shrimp to him. Seth caught it in his mouth, and everyone at the table cheered.

  For a moment, I almost forgot what he had done, and that tonight was about making him remember me forever. After several hours of casual conversation, we left the restaurant. The night air was cold, but I carried my jacked, knowing it would be beneficial to be so visibly chilled.

  "Where to now?" he asked, taking my hand. His eyes stared down the top of my dress.

  "It's not even a mile to the beach and I could use the walk after such a big meal." I leaned forward teasing him.

  "Me, too. I don't even think I have room for the ice cream sundae I was going to take you for," he chuckled.

  As we entered the beach, the sign – PARK HOURS: SUNRISE TO SUNSET – glared at us.

  Seth slowed and sighed. "Ugh, it's almost sunset."

  "Since when do you care about rules?" I laughed and tugged on his hand.

  We ran towards the water. I threw my jacket down and slipped out of my shoes. Without a thought, I ran to the ocean and began splashing and shrieking. Seth grinned at me and ripped his shoes off.

  We kicked water at each other and laughed. When a large wave began to roll in, Seth swept me into his arms. My feet dangled as he backed away towards the beach. His lips were so close, I could have kissed him.

  "It's getting dark. We should head back," he murmured. Reluctantly, he let me down.

  While I slid down his body, I rested my hand on his pants zipper and began to tug it. Stunned, he stared at me as I undid the button.

  "What are you doing?" he rasped.

  I shoved his pants and boxers down and inspected his now fully erect penis. Seth's confusion turned to delight.

  "So, when I went down on you in the theatre, did I use protection?" I grasped his stiffness and fell to my knees before him.

  He shifted uncomfortably, but did not pull out of my grip. I was sure he was hoping I would follow through, and service him, right there.

  "Wh…what," he stammered.

  I gazed up at him and seductively licked my lips. His eyes shifted away acknowledging he knew what I was talking about.

  "Well, if I am going to give you the Chase Treatment, I need to know what that entails." My voice was ice cold as I clenched him hard, digging my nails into the tender skin.

  "I didn't mean —" He moved as if weighing the risks of leaving himself in my hands.

  "You didn't mean to start the ball rolling on creating my bad reputation? Boys will be boys, right? Were you angry to hear I gave Steve Louis a strip tease before he had sex with me?"

  I slid my finger in my mouth and then slowly removed it. "Is this what I did," I asked coyly. I te
ased him. I wanted him to desire me. I felt his anticipation.

  Out of greed or instinct, he shifted his hips several times, as if helping me out, urging me to go further. I traced the wetness of my finger along his hardness and moved my mouth closer. He sat still in expectation. I slowly blew my hot breath along the line I had just traced. This simple act caused him to jerk and prematurely ejaculate in my hand.

  "Oh god," he gasped and pulled himself out of my hand. His face flushed red with embarrassment. It was my turn to stare silently as he struggled to get his pants on.

  "Was it as good for you this time as the first time?" I sneered.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lie. I just…" he apologized.

  "Next time you lie about someone, know your words can destroy them. Do you know how town sluts get treated around here? They get used and abused like paid whores. You have a sister, right? Would you want your buddies to lie about her?"

  "No. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I didn't say you did anything. They just…"

  I understood. "You didn't deny it – didn't clear my name. Didn't you call me your ‘little Alanis’?"

  "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have," his voice cracked.

  "Be sure to let the boys know how good I was tonight. Don't forget to mention how quickly it ended." For emphasis, I wiped my hands on the sand, trying to remove his bodily fluid from me.

  "I won't say anything. I'm truly sorry, Caitlyn," he apologized. His eyes told me he was sincere, but I didn't care.

  "Save your sorry for the next girl you hurt," I snapped and walked away.

  "Wait, I need to take you home," he called out.

  He was wrong. I had made prior arrangements. Without looking back, I slipped on my jacket and left the beach. When I showed up at the Starbucks a mile away, Thomas was waiting in my car, sipping hot coffee.

  "What took you so long?" he asked. He handed me a blended drink. "You are freezing. I should have got you something warm."

  "I'm fine. This looks yummy." I took a drink of the cool concoction and grinned.

  "Why the change in plans?" Thomas wiped whip cream off my lip.

  "I just realized that popcorn and movies with my best friend sounded like a better evening."

  "I could have told you that, hours ago." Thomas laughed as he accelerated and rolled down both our windows. There was nothing better than being with my best friend and inhaling the ocean air.

  Later that evening, I confessed what I had done. Thomas was supportive, but concerned. I promised him I wouldn't confront any of the other boys and that I would stay far away from Christopher. This promise I was happy to keep.

  Instead of dwelling on the memories of the horrible evening, I chose my mother's approach to life and pretended it didn’t happen. I focused on my final month of school, and I dove into helping my mother grow her event planning business. Wherever, and whenever, she needed anyone to help, I was there.

  I would survive high school. Studying and work were what kept me going. My focus remained the same when I entered college. There was only moving forward now.

  Nine

  The Scientific Approach

  My 19th Century British Literature class just ended when I heard a voice behind me.

  "Butterworth is pain. I swear his main focus in life is to destroy GPAs," the man said.

  I turned to see soft brown eyes staring at me. "To strive, to seek, to yield," I quoted Lord Tennyson.

  The man grinned. "I am aware of Alfred Tennyson, but I am afraid this is out of my element. You seem to have caught on quickly." He nodded at my paper with a big red A and Insightful written on the top corner.

  "I'm an English major so this is my element," I replied.

  "Well, it's nice to meet someone who enjoys this kind of stuff. Paul Wallace," he said, offering me his hand.

  I accepted it. "Caitlyn Chase."

  "Well, I'm an environmental biologist. I am not in my element at all. Do you think we could study together sometime?" Paul squeezed my hand and smiled.

  Our friendship blossomed quickly into a romantic relationship. I studied at his apartment every evening. Sitting on the couch near each other turned into making out. Even with the distraction, Paul was focused on his academics, first, and me, second.

  One night, our kissing session became a bit heated, and he placed his hand on my upper thigh. I flinched, and he immediately pulled back.

  "Did that make you uncomfortable, Caitlyn?" His face was lined with worry.

  "I just haven't had…" I struggled with the words before I spat out, "a safe relationship."

  My statement was not enough for Paul. Before the night was over, I told him everything that had happened. I was afraid to look at him, to see the disgust in his eyes.

  Paul lifted my chin. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." His words were fiery. "You were abused. That monster deserves to burn in hell."

  Instead of a passionate exchange, we talked for hours about what happened, and what the next step would mean. Before I left that evening, I promised I was ready for this change in our relationship, and my past was the past.

  The next night Paul was waiting with candles and sparkling water. He toasted. "Caitlyn, you are the most beautiful person I have ever met. Tonight, I want our souls, not just our minds, to connect. Will you share this journey with me?"

  Paul had prepared the bedroom with soft candles and classical music. He kissed me delicately and undressed me, not taking his eyes from mine.

  When we were naked, he patted the bed, "Lie with me."

  Nervously, I slid under the covers. "We'll go slow. Tell me if anything scares or triggers negative emotions."

  "I will."

  His fingers trailed over every inch of my body. It was as if he was determining which areas where traumatized. When he was done, he left the bed and returned with massage oil. "You are too tense to enjoy any pleasure."

  I blushed at how he stared at me. He pulled back the covers and squirted the oil into his hands, rubbing them quickly before he placed them on me. Once again, he covered each part of my body. The massage was calming. I wasn't sure if it was his warmth or the healing scent.

  As he kissed my breasts, I tensed.

  "We should stop?" he asked.

  "No, keep going. I'll tell you if I want you to stop." I blinked away the tears in my eyes. I was not going to let Christopher control my life. This was my body.

  Again, I flinched when he touched the moist area between my thighs. His touch felt nice, and I wanted to keep going. Paul was being so caring, but I didn’t feel what I thought I should. I wanted him to know I was enjoying his attention. So I pretended, screaming like girls did in the movies.

  As I finished my writhing show, Paul rested on his elbow. "Caitlyn, you don't have to fake it for me. Your body may not be ready for such a release. Just tell me when it feels good and we'll try to reach the mountain together."

  Embarrassed, I nodded. "I think it would be better for you to just...um…"

  "Penetrate you?" he asked.

  I nodded.

  Watching him prepare himself was painful. He was methodical with applying the condom properly. I wanted to scream, 'Just put it on!'. Instead, I slowly breathed, thinking about the positive side of his care. I would not get pregnant, and he wouldn't have to worry that I gave him some disease.

  Finally, he slipped on top of me. Paul was gentle when he entered me, watching my reaction. "Most women cannot orgasm with penetration alone. If you feel it is stimulating you enough, I will control my ejaculation. For now, I think it would be wise to complete the act. We'll connect more and more each time."

  I could have died. I was in biology class, not making love. He was right that I did not achieve any great pleasure, but it wasn't unpleasant. He grunted and rolled off me, then immediately went into the bathroom and showered.

  Tears fell from the corners of my eyes. I had disgusted him. I was too broken. When Paul returned, his clean soapy scent overpowered me.

  "Caitlyn, I would
like to try several pleasure techniques on you. Are you comfortable trying again?"

  I smiled. "Yes, please."

  Yes, please, I mocked myself. Did you order dessert?

  Honestly, I felt like a specimen being examined. Every new touch meant Paul would stop and confirm I was comfortable. After an hour, he determined the exact amount of pressure and digital penetration needed for me to orgasm.

  When the sensation left me, and my breathing returned to normal, Paul leaned over me. "This is such a breakthrough. Many women never truly reach their sexual peak. We have something really special together."

  I laughed. I was his penicillin, his lightbulb, his sliced bread. It became his mission to fix me. And, most important, I didn't disgust him.

  Paul was everything you wanted in a boyfriend. He was a gentleman. I felt adored by him. My needs were just as important. Our relationship was more than sex. We shared our passions, and knowledge. He tolerated me reading Shakespeare, and I listened attentively when he talked about what steps were needed to save the world from self-destruction.

  The nine months we were together, I learned much about myself. My biggest realization was that we weren't meant to be. He was nice, but there was no true passion. Paul wanted to save the world and bring me along with him. When he approached the idea, he knew my answer before I even spoke.

  In the end, we both agreed we were better as friends. After we parted, I decided I couldn't tell anyone every again about the assault. Paul had healed my body with care. Telling my story wouldn't help anyone. It would turn me into a victim and cloud the relationship.

  Ten

  The Dominant Approach

  My sophomore year, I had been so busy helping my mother with an event that I waited too long to get my textbooks.

  "I don't understand how the books I need are not available for this class," I ranted.

  The chubby sales assistant with the bright blue DONALD name tag on his chest pushed his glasses up. "If we ordered a book for everyone in the class, we would have an overflow. For you, the guesstimated numbers just didn't work out. It's a risk you take if you are a procrastinator."