Chapter 6

The night carries on and the kickback moves inside. Those who swam now have towels wrapped around them, and Trent Watts, the host, is now visible. I didn't recognize his name, but I remember him from just one glance. He was not popular, nor unpopular, sort of like me. I suppose he now has these pool parties going for him, it must have put him on the map.

Music plays softly in the background as I curl up next to Taylor and Jana. Trent has the fireplace going, and I wonder where his parents are. We are in the living room, and soon enough Jordan comes in with Trent himself and Daniel. My posture lifts up a bid at the sight of him.

"What you up to?" Jordan asks Taylor and she shrugs, almost falling asleep against my arm.

"She's worn out," Jana murmurs and throws her head back against the couch. "Swimming is tiring, especially when you idiots are always trying to kill each other."

My eyes swing to Daniel every now and then. He looks calm, relaxed, laid back. He was the entire time. There is something intriguing about him, and it's not only his appearance. His hair looks soft, dark and smooth. It looks good without even trying, I bet.

Jana nudges me, giving me a look. She probably notices me eyeing Daniel. "I left my things outside," I mumble and head out to the backyard.

I pass through the kitchen where people have started drinking, and I refused an offered cup. The interaction effects me in a way that it usually doesn't, it makes me sad. In Florida, I was offered alcohol constantly at gatherings. Maybe it is just the location, maybe it is just Coldgrove.

There are a few lights left on outside, along with the pool light. The area is vacant and I finally feel like I can breathe. I sit down on the lounge chair and stare at the glowing water with longing. I want to submerge myself, to float, to feel the water on every inch of my skin. I bite my lip, the water feels so nice, so refreshing.

"You don't swim?"

I jump a little and look to the back door. It's Daniel, surprisingly. Alone.

"I do," I say back, trying to keep my voice smooth. "Just not right now."

He eyes me then walks towards me, making my heart race. I even panic a little, not knowing what to expect. Then he passes me and heads for the back gate, to leave. Disappointment seeps in. Part of me wanted something to happen, and the other part doesn't know why.

I was angry after it happened, mostly because I wanted to be heard, yet no one was listening. I read online that some victims don't tell anyone about it, which caused me to think.

Sometimes I felt guilty. I shouldn't have gone to the party. I shouldn't have taken the drink. I shouldn't have gone upstairs. I shouldn't have let him close the door. I shouldn't have given up, I should have kept fighting. When I think of the last one, I usually cry.

I also read that sometimes the other person doesn't realize they're doing something wrong, which caused me to think even more.

Harrison knew he could get away with it, he knew he was doing something wrong.

After he locked the door, I turned around.

Aren't you going to show me more rooms? I asked, feeling tipsy.

Harrison neared me, caressed my arms, and brought me down to the bed. We sat the on edge beside each other. Without another word he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, surprising me, making my stomach summersault. I could hear the blaring music from downstairs as he moved his lips against mine. There was something muffling about it.

"Ready to go?"

I glance up and see Jana standing before me, looking exhausted. I nod and gather our things before heading back to the car. She nearly falls asleep in the passenger seat and I tap her gently on the arm when I get to her house. Jana walks slowly to the front door and waves back at me before going in. I laugh a little and drive off.

The rest of the weekend passes by quickly, and I spend most of it in bed. Jana calls, we talk only because I wasn't answering any text messages. She asks if I'm okay, if I need her to bring me anything, but I say no, along with a thank you.

Hailey, do you mind staying after class, I need to talk with you, Mr. Russ would call to me and I would nod. It was never really a question, as I never said no. Once all the students were emptied from the room, I would near his desk, lean up against it.

You need something? I would ask, suggestively.

What happened yesterday—are you alright? He asked, referring to his grabbing of my legs when I was sat on his desk. He ran his hands up them and I jerked away, panicked, then left.

I shrugged it off. Oh, I'm fine.

He looked at me, uneasy, then asked, What happened to you, Hailey?

I pretended to not know what he was talking about. Then he did it, touched my leg again, and I jumped.

He questioned me, Did someone hurt you?

Hurt me? I would act as if he was the crazy one. Who would have hurt me, Mr. Russ?

You don't let me touch you, he said, you don't let anyone touch you.

I roll over in my bed and stare out the window. What a terrible memory to keep.

Mr. Russ and I lost contact after school ended. Part of me was upset, part of me was relieved. I couldn't help the guilty feelings I had late at night, laying alone, wondering if I am making a mistake.

When I was with him, I was fueled, but without him, I only wished to be as far away from him as possible. Sometimes he scared me, sometimes he made me hot, sometimes I would ignore his request and leave the classroom anyways.

I was damaged, confused, clingy, abandoned, and so much more, and I didn't know how to deal with it.