Chapter 3

With a big stretch of her body, Mel awakens. She slept fantastically. She’d been totally drained, and after the party slowed down and she took Toby upstairs, she collapsed. She looks over, planning to wake him up for more, but finds him already gone. So are his clothes. He must have already packed.

So many details run through her mind. Little images she’ll want to remember forever. She even has one preserved. She finds her phone on her night table and wishes she’d filmed more. At least she got something, which she plays. Toby’s body from this angle. Christ. The way little beads of sweat drip down him. The way his dick bounces up and down. Mel finds her hand between her legs as she watches. He squeaks. She remembers that squeak. She moans, and then she notices the phone changing angle, pointing a little lower. In the background, she can’t see any of the party goers. Seems that they don’t show up on film any more than they do in mirrors.

Right before Toby’s orgasm, she pauses, and something hits her that should have hit her before. It makes her heart twist. Was this consensual? Or was Toby under the influence of something?

Shit. That’s not right. Was she taking advantage of him? As much of a prick as he was before yesterday, that still would be wrong. Mel is a feminist. She’s taken courses in gender studies and learned about queer theory. She’s read Angela Davis and Audre Lord. She was so wrapped up in the idea of Lotus Valley as a feminist space that she forgot the principle that men – even men as shitty as Toby – are also entitled to consent.

The tension in her chest makes her sit up. She rubs her tired eyes, then grabs her jeans from the floor, inelegantly pulling them on. It’s something she should have thought of before, right? Charlotte had even pointed out that she wasn’t convinced this place was fully consensual. Mel can’t comment on that. She doesn’t have enough information to know if the men whose ghosts she met really had the option to leave. What she does know is that she should have been more careful with Toby.

She’d gotten carried away because he was so hot. So, so hot. The fact that she could do the things she did with that body. What other time or place has she had that chance? She’d felt enchanted by it. And maybe she literally was. If Toby was being controlled by magic, maybe she was, too. Which would explain why she neglected something so basic. If so, she’d be less of an assailant than a fellow victim. That makes her chest loosen slightly, although she still feels terrible.