Chapter 5
Skylar
Later that night
“Another party, Alex?” I ask my brother as I lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling. My roommate is gone for the night, and although I want to stay in and just relax, I also want to visit with Alex, see Holden again, and not be alone in this room.
“Skylar, you might want to get used to the parties. Aside from studying, this is what college life is about.”
I roll my eyes. I don’t bother telling him that won’t be what my college life is life.
“I feel bad about getting wasted last night, and I want to hang out with you. It’s been a long time since we’ve done that.”
Well, aside from last night, yeah, it has been a long time.
I exhale and smile. “Okay. Pick me up.”
An hourlater and I am standing in the middle of Alex’s living room. There aren’t as many people here tonight, but then again it is still early.
I hold a beer in my hand, the only one I’ll drink tonight. It doesn't matter how many beers I consume, I can never get over the bitter hop taste I get after each swallow. Frank has since crashed from what I know was sensory overload, and is curled into a tight yet pudgy ball on the corner of the couch. Alex is out back, and Holden has run to the restroom. He’s refused to leave my side since I arrived, which I’m thankful and happy about. But hell, even a guy has to go to the bathroom.
When the keg stands started becoming more frequent, everyone thought, even in their inebriated state, that it was wiser to take it out back. Even now I can hear the chanting to “take it all,” and “chug, chug, chug.”
Several couples disappeared upstairs and I can hear the not-so-subtle noises coming from the bedrooms. Music pumps loudly around me and I have to turn my back on a bunch of girls that are giving lap dances to a few guys. Dollar bills are being held up and lewd comments are being thrown out like everyday greetings.
Although I may not be very experienced in the sex department, I don't consider myself a prude by any means. I grab Frank and move to a more secluded area of the house, sitting down in an old, yellowing chair situated by the window. I can still hear the shouts from the guys playing some military video game in another room. I’d gladly take that over hearing the raunchy comments and loud moans that seem to surround me.
This is so not my scene, but I know that I need to get used to it because this is Alex's scene and I can't ask him not to have parties just so I can visit him and Frank. This is college after all, and things, so far, have been very different then high school. The few parties I’ve been to, only because Alex brought me there so that I would socialize, have been wild, but nothing like what is going on around me.
I can't really see out the window since it’s dark, but I can see the reflection of everything behind me, and I sit here just people watching. It's what I do best anyway. Stay to myself, blend in with the scenery. A guy weaving severely comes through the entryway and places a hand on the wall to steady himself. I watch him close his eyes, hiccup once, and then glance around the room before locking his gaze on me.
“Hey there.” His speech is slurred but upbeat.
I don't respond right away, hoping he will wander off somewhere else.
“Hey, girl, whatcha doing over there by yourself?”
I glance over my shoulder, seeing him stumble toward me. He is a new face to me, but there are far too many people at the party to keep track of everyone. I smile but don't reply. I know enough about intoxicated people that if you open that door to conversation you can never close it. It never fails, when there are drunk men around, they have balls of steel and think they can get every female into their bed. I stand, with Frank snoring in my arms, and try to make my way around the drunk since he is blocking my exit.
The mystery guy weaves into me and wraps his arm around my waist.
“No thanks.” I try pushing him off of me.
“Aw, come on. You're so damn pretty. I’m alone. You’re alone.” His breath reeks of beer and cigarette smoke.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” I take a few steps away and turn my back to him, hoping he'll get the picture and move on to someone who will be more receptive to his “classy” advances. When I feel his hands cup my ass and his lips press against my shoulder, I know this one might be a little harder to lose. I know I need to keep my cool, but my memories—ones I’ve never admitted to anyone—are rushing back no matter how hard I try to suppress them.
“Come on. You don't need to act so cold. My car is right outside.” His humid breath almost has me gagging in distaste. “We can go out there for like twenty minutes.”
“Like I said before, no thanks.” I am a little more forceful and shove him away, but his arm locks around me like a vice and my whole body tightens. Frank is up at this point, and growling at the guy.
He pulls my back against his chest and everything around me grows dark. Right now I’m not at my brother’s house, I am back in that room, the smell of sweat and alcohol surrounding me.
My own personal nightmare that I’ve never shared with anyone, that I am too afraid to even comprehend myself.
I can feel my heart rate increase, and I start sucking in air. It’s no use; I can't get enough into my lungs. I need to get out of here. I need to leave before I completely break down in front of everyone. The hands are suddenly off me and a deep, angry voice pierces through my terror.
“She said no, so fuck off.”
The sound of flesh slamming into flesh surrounds me, but I can't turn around; I am locked in my personal nightmare. Frank whines in my arms. The voice wraps around me again and I latch onto the sound, feeling myself slowly coming back to reality as it washes through me.
“Hey, are you okay?”
I feel hands on my shoulders but I don't find myself spiraling down that dark tunnel I have so many times before. I am gently turned around and I keep my eyes focused on the light blue t-shirt taking up my entire view. Ever so slowly my breathing returns to normal and I feel my heart take on a more natural rhythm. The guy who still has his hands on my shoulders doesn't rush me; he just lets me take my time getting through this. When I feel a semblance of courage, I lift my eyes up the massive, broad chest and look into pale blue eyes. Mouth gone dry, I try to focus on what has just happened and not the instantaneous reaction this stranger has on me.
“Are you okay?” His brows are pulled down tight over his eyes as he looks at me with an expression full of concern. His fingers are under my chin and gently lifting my head so I can stare into his eyes. I get lost in those eyes, but even though my panic attack is subsiding, I still feel slightly frantic.
“Hey.” His warm breath, that smells like sweet mint, brushes against my mouth. “Just breathe.”