“I’ve never slept with a man so I don’t think I’ll be much fun for you. Thank you for the drink. I promise not to come back until I’m really twenty-one. We wouldn’t want your place getting into trouble because of me.” I turned around and headed for the door. I didn’t look back to see if Phillip stared after me. I just knew I needed to get my high school, inexperienced ass out of there.
As soon as I made my way outside and tried to hail a taxi, I felt someone standing very close. I turned to see Phillip in a jacket with his hand up trying to hail a taxi right by my side. He smiled sheepishly, and for some reason, it made me smile back.
“What? You didn’t think I’d let you go after you just told me you’re a virgin? There are like three of you left in New York and I’m not about to let you walk away. I’ve never been with a virgin, so you’re as close to the Holy Grail as I’m ever gonna get.” We both cracked up as a yellow cab pulled up to us. “My place or yours?” he asked, which made me laugh even harder at how absurd this whole interaction was.
“Phillip, I’m not sleeping with you. We met like three seconds ago.”
He opened the taxi door to let me in and got in right behind me. “I promise, I won’t let you sleep. You may eventually pass out, but as God as my fucking witness, you won’t be sleeping once I get my hands on you and your untouched pussy.” He closed the cab door behind him and called out an address that was also on the Upper East Side a few avenues away from my house.
“Phillip, I’m not going back to your place. I don’t know who the fuck you are for fuck’s sake. Can you please stop the car? God, is this how it is for you? Do girls just sleep with you after five minutes?” I became mad and somewhat disgusted. This sounded like one of my made-up adventures, but I had no intention of living this out, even if this guy was hot.
“Well, yeah. I usually don’t even need to try this hard. I usually take a few girls at a time, if you really want to know. You should actually feel very lucky that I walked out of the club and I’m in a car driving you to my place. That never fucking happens. You must be a unicorn.”
I was shocked and as I stole a glace to the front mirror, I saw the look on the cab driver’s face that mirrored my own—shock and disgust.
“Phillip, stop talking, I’ve had enough. Sir, can you please stop the car?” I politely asked the driver, who immediately began to brake to pull over.
“Keep driving, buddy, we’re good,” Phillip, the asshole who apparently fucks lots of girls, said back to the driver. “Sara, relax. I know you want this, let me make your first time good. Don’t you want to fuck someone who knows what they’re doing with their dick?” He continued talking. “Have you ever had an orgasm? If you’re a good girl I’ll make you come repeatedly and I’ll teach you how to squirt. Trust me, baby, you’ll be so happy we met. I normally don’t do this kind of shit, but I’m really hard for you. I’ll teach you everything, let’s just have fun. This doesn’t have to be more than a good night.”
Phillip was the devil, the wolf, and the corrupter that every parent warns their daughters about, and The Sara would have done everything he’d just proposed. She would already be on her knees sucking him off. She would sit in his lap and dry hump him and let him suck her boobs in the backseat of a dirty taxi. But The Sara wasn’t really me; I was just Sara and I shook with fear and didn’t know how to get home without getting raped. I wanted nothing to do with him. I just wanted Jeff, even if he wasn’t real.
“Phillip, I’m not ready for this. I’m eighteen but I’m still in high school. Can you just let me off? You’re making me really scared.” I couldn’t pretend to be cool anymore and tears had begun to run down my face. I’d hoped he would finally see that he had the wrong girl and let me go. But my reaction had the wrong effect on him, because he got closer to me and pulled me into him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you or make you cry. I just wanted to make you happy tonight. I don’t need to force anybody, I have plenty of girls, you just seemed different. I just wanted to be with you tonight, but if you’re not into me, that’s cool.” He stroked my hair and it felt nice. I closed my eyes and imagined he was Jeff. I was so confused about how I felt. I’d never been this close to a man besides Jeffery before. Just when I worked out that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if I lost my virginity to Phillip, my phone rang. I let it ring, thinking it was Emily, but then it kept ringing. I finally fished it out of my bag and answered.
“Hello,” I said a little out of breath and still very emotional.
“Where are you?” It was Jeff.
“Why do you care?” I answered back almost sounding cross with him. Why did it matter to him where I was?
“I’ve been outside your house for hours. Your mom said you’d be back soon. Aren’t you planning to come home tonight?” He sounded pissed.
I looked at my phone and then at Phillip, who was close enough for Jeff to hear him say, “What’s wrong, baby? Who’s calling you?” And that’s all it took for Jeffery to go ape shit and start yelling back.
“Who. The. Fuck. Are. You. With. Sara? Why did he just call you baby? Eddie said you don’t have a boyfriend.”
I was shocked and couldn’t wrap my brain around what was going on. I was in the backseat of a taxi with a guy I met less than an hour ago, driving to his place to lose my virginity. I had the love of my life who hadn’t spoken or tried to contact to me in months waiting at my house. And I didn’t know what was real anymore. In my world, when it rains…it hails.
“Jeff, calm down, I’m with Phillip. He offered to fuck me at his place and since you haven’t made good on your promises, I’m taking him up on his offer,” I said before hanging up. I looked over at Phillip, whose face was split from ear to ear in the most evil of smiles I’ve ever witnessed in my life.
“Sara, you just made my night. I’m going to be so good to you. My dick just went from hard to bulletproof. If you want a night of firsts, after I pop your cherry, I can call one of my good friends and you can have your first threesome.”
He laughed yet had no idea how painful what he’d just said was for me. His disturbing comment didn’t help the feeling of worthlessness that had begun to spread across my entire body. My phone rang again and again and again. By the time we arrived at Phillip’s apartment, I felt completely numb. I don’t remember getting out of the cab, entering his building, what floor we stopped on, or what his apartment number was. I just followed him in. If he wanted to rape me, I wouldn’t stop him. I gave him the green light with the stupid response I gave to Jeff in the car.
When we got inside, I do remember him lifting me and placing me on his cold kitchen countertop. He gently took my shoes off then started kissing my neck and squeezing my boobs. Spreading my legs and standing between them, he ran his fingertips up my outer thighs and under my thin sweater. He continued with his hands under my bra, cupping both breasts. He found my nipples and pulled them hard, causing me to wake up from my out-of-body comatose state. Everything he did felt cold and clinical; it felt wrong. There was zero chemistry between us. I wasn’t even aroused.
“Sara, how does that feel? Has someone ever touched you like that before?” he asked while licking my neck. “Am I your first everything? You want me to suck your tits, baby?” When he got no response, he abruptly stopped and stepped away saying, “Okay, I’m not doing this shit unless you’re into it one hundred percent.” I could tell he’d grown annoyed with my aloofness. “I’m fucking Phillip Dashell; I have plenty of willing pussy back at the club. If you’re not feeling this you need to go home, sweetheart.”
He lifted me off the counter and helped fix my sweater, pulling my skirt down. He knelt down, holding my shoes as I stepped into them. He inhaled deeply close to my inner thighs, which once again, should’ve been sensual and sexy, but just felt creepy and wrong. “Are you sure you don’t want this? I’ll be gentle with you. I’m having a hard time accepting that I’m about to send one of three New York virgins back home.” He was still on the floor
on his knees and looking as genuine as a club-owning playboy could.
I probably should’ve just stayed and let him do whatever he wanted to me that night. The Sara would’ve been naked and moaning by now. But all I could think about was the boy that I lost my imaginary virginity to. I thought about that night three years ago when he stumbled into my room. I thought about that kiss, that one deadly kiss. When I looked down at Phillip still on the floor, I just shook my head. He got up, grabbed my jacket, and dejectedly walked me downstairs. Before putting me into a cab and sending me back home, he cupped my face and lightly kissed me for the first time that night. Besides Jeff, I’d never been kissed by anyone. I looked up into his dark blue eyes and decided right then and there that I only ever wanted to be kissed by one man, and it wasn’t Phillip Dashell.
Liam makes a growling noise at my side and when I turn to look at him, I see him clench his teeth. “What’s wrong?” I ask him.
“I want to know when the universe is going to stop fucking me up the arse,” he says, shaking his head.
“Liam, calm down. I didn’t do anything with that guy from the club.”
He turns to me with a death glare. “Were you the one who introduced Emily to Louis?” Is this boy on crack? How did he get to that from the story I just told him?
“What gave you that impression from the things I’ve just told you?”
He starts to giggle like a deranged maniac. “You, Sara! You just bloody told me you almost got raped by Phillip Dashell!”
“And Phillip Dashell is a close acquaintance of yours, I suppose?”
He shakes his head, getting himself up and sitting at the edge of the bed with his back to me. “Nah, Phillip is no friend of mine, but he is your buddy Louis’ best mate.”
It’s my turn to start laughing at his silly comment, because I’ve known Louis for over twelve years and Phillip Dashell is not in any way, shape, or form any kind of a friend to Louis Bruel.
“You must be mixing him up with somebody else; he is not one of Louis’ friends. I should know. Louis or Em would’ve mentioned him if he were.”
He turns and pins me with a look of pity. “If it weren’t for Phillip, my sister would’ve never met Louis fucking Bruel. Phillip, Max, Andrew, and Louis were the biggest pieces of rubbish—or shit—I have ever had the unfortunate pleasure of reading about.”
You know that feeling when someone tells you something that they obviously believe, and yet you can bet your life is not true? That’s how Liam’s statement hits me. Once again, Liam is confused. I need to show him that what he thinks he knows and the actual truth are not mutually exclusive.
“I know, let me call Emily and ask her if she’s ever heard of Phillip. Surely, if he were one of Louis’ acquaintances, she would know his name.”
“Yes, that’s a brilliant idea, and I’ll go fetch you something visual to perhaps shine some light your way.”
“Deal.”
“Ace.”
We both say simultaneously, almost daring each other.
“Just Died In Your Arms” by Cutting Crew
Phillip Dashell, the devil, the scum, the root of all evil, has had his dirty hands on countless girls including my sister, and now I find out he almost had Sara. My Sara! I’m not sure how these women have managed to turn my whole life upside down, but I literally feel like I’m in space. If I show her my sister’s pictures, if I show her what kind of friends Phillip and Louis are, she may stop looking at me like a delusional loon.
I head back downstairs to the kitchen where I left my carry-on. I dig through my things and find Isa’s phone, which I charge every bloody day as if she’s alive somewhere and might call. I also find and stroke the only copy of my sister’s unpublished manuscript that exists in print. I had a paperback copy made to remind me of what she went through and who was the cause of all her pain and suffering. The book has no cliché cover, no catchy title; it’s just a piece of her I get to hold on to—her last confession, of sorts. There are parts in it I’ve only read once, and then there are chapters describing her “what-if” future, which I can read over and over for the rest of my life. What I wouldn’t give to trade places with my sister and give her a chance to live again. Even if I were gone, knowing that she could have her life back—that beautiful life she so vividly described—would be worth the sacrifice.
I go back upstairs and I hear Sara talking to someone. She must be talking to Emily already. I stand at the door and catch a bit of their discussion. I hear Sara saying, “I can’t tell you where I know that name from, but please trust me, I need to know how Louis knows Phillip Dashell.” There is silence and then Sara answers, “Why haven’t you ever mentioned any of that to me before?” More silence. “Em, put Louis on the phone now!”
I peek in and see Sara pacing by the window, clearly not pleased with Emily’s answers. I’m certain that her reality, which she’d been so sure of before, is slowly about to come crashing down. She has no bloody inkling as to who Louis and “The Boys” really were, are, and always will be.
“Louis, sorry to bother you but I need to know who Phillip Dashell is to you.” She nods her head, listening, and then answers, “I can’t tell you why I need to know, but I want you to tell me if he’s a friend of yours. It’s for personal reasons.” She shakes her head from side to side, which can only mean Louis has just informed her that Phillip is someone he knows. “Is the name of that club Lunna?” she asks, and I could’ve answered that question because Isa spent many worthless moments with that group of animals in that dirty club.
She finally turns to see me waiting by the door and her sad eyes are enough for me to know Sara just got a dose of reality. I know that once she sees the rest, she will never look at Louis the same way again. I don’t hear her end her conversation with Louis. She just dejectedly hangs up.
“You’re right, they were friends. Louis helped him open that club where we met. He said he’s not friends with him anymore, but they were good friends, like you said.” The words of acceptance seem to fall out of her sad, defeated body.
“They are still friends now. Emily told me that Louis and he were coming out of a hotel room with a young girl on the day she caught him cheating and ended up in St. Lucia.”
She shakes her head, not wanting to believe it, but just because you don’t want to believe something doesn’t mean it’s not true. I know that concept all too well. “Show me,” she says and I sense she’s ready to see the truth.
I take my sister’s phone and find the picture that will be enough evidence even for a headstrong solicitor. When she takes the phone and studies the picture, I realize what I’ve done. I understand in that moment that it’s the wrong thing. Sara makes a pained sound before dropping the phone and collapsing. It’s the picture of Isa passed out on a couch while at least three naked men, whose faces you can’t see, have their dicks inside her. You can, however, see Louis Bruel high-fiving Phillip, who’s holding my naked sister’s head and kissing her beautiful sleeping face.
Seeing Sara’s reaction, I know my fail. In the past twenty-four hours, I’ve started to abandon all my silly plans, and now I only have one purpose: to mend this broken girl, not break her even more. I lift her off the floor and pray to a God I don’t believe in anymore that I didn’t go too far.
She comes around a few moments later and I’m not sure where we go from here. I still want to hear about the man she thinks is the love of her life, but at present we need to deal with the big elephant in the bloody room.
“I’m sorry, love, I didn’t mean to shock you like that. You didn’t need to see that. I know it’s hard when someone you know so well lets you down.”
“Do you think they raped her?” she asks, which is exactly what I first thought seeing those pictures for the first time, until I read my sister’s book and found out it was all planned with her permission. She wanted to do this for Louis so he would find her more desirable, which sounded ludicrous to me, but I didn’t have anyone to question…Isa was already go
ne.
“No, she gave them permission to do all those things.”
She nods, closing her eyes before saying, “I’m sorry, Liam. I wish I could help you change the past. I’m sorry for everything.” I feel closer to Sara than any other living person, and I’m quite sure this is what love must feel like.
“Thank you,” I answer as I kiss the top of her head. I’ve never had anyone else understand, commiserate, and comprehend even a small part of the pain I carry.
She finds my tattoo and places her delicate hand over it. She then lowers her head and kisses that same place over my heart, whispering, “Rest in peace, Isabella.” And that’s when I know there isn’t a single bastard on earth who could stand in my way of making this beautiful, broken ballerina mine.
“I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” by U2
I’m hurting inside and I can’t tell good from bad anymore. I always thought that Jeff and I were bad and Louis and Em were good, and now I don’t know anything. I only know one thing; I’ve never felt as safe with anybody as I do in Liam’s arms. Every time I get a little glimpse of who he is, I want to hold on to him a little longer. I wish I could help him with the pain, but I can’t. I can just listen and hope that when I tell him about my pain, he doesn’t start running.
If I knew back then that Louis was involved with Phillip, I would have done everything in my power to stop Emily and Louis from being together. I keep seeing my best friend’s husband’s face smiling down at Phillip and seemingly encouraging him on. The poor girl, how could she allow those things to happen? Why would she allow Louis and his friends to do that? I suddenly need to know everything. Louis will never answer my questions and there is no way in hell he will give me access to that video Em spoke about. I need my brother’s help. It may not be ethical, it may not be legal, but I need to see that video footage if it’s the last thing I do. Otherwise, I will never be able to look at Louis Bruel again. There has to be more to that story.
Lies In Rewind Page 19