Chapter 4 (Edited)

Friday night disappeared in a blur, and Kylie slept for what seemed like an eternity. She woke up at noon on Saturday essentially in the same position she fell asleep on Friday night. Her room was bright with light as the sun percolated through the blinds, contrary to the darkness that typically welcomed her with her alarm in the early morning. Through bleary eyes she glanced at her nightstand clock and blinked. Noon?! Holy cow, I slept for like fourteen hours! she thought, while her body finished waking up. She scrubbed her face with her hands and worked moisture back into her mouth before sitting up.

Kylie’s mouth was dry from sleeping for so long. She licked her chapped lips and swallowed, but a painful reminder of yesterday spread through her jaw and throat. The ache made her grimace and purse her lips as the memory of the men using her flickered behind her eyes.

She didn’t get out of bed right away, just sat and tried to think of nothing. But the memories kept creeping back in, like the poles of a magnet, getting too close. She grabbed her phone, opting to scroll social media, not quite ready to deal with the day just yet. The endless flicking distracted her thoughts just enough to avoid any real contemplation. “Cute kitty”, she mumbled to herself as she tapped like.

She commented “Love it!” on a friend’s outfit and liked another picture of a cat. The next scroll auto played–a video of a girl vaulting off a pommel horse to a catchy pop song as motivating words filtered across the lower edge. She scrolled past it and the next video started with a group of students pranking their teacher by dressing exactly like him. “Stupid,” she mumbled to herself. With a huff she closed the app and put her phone down.

She kicked her blanket off her legs and scooted forward to get out of bed. Her hamstrings spasmed slightly as she stood, another small reminder of her situation. I gotta pee! she noticed as her bladder decided to make its demands known as she shuffled to the door.

She slipped out of her room and went across the hall. Her little brother’s high pitched laughing voice percolated up the stairs as she slipped inside. She glanced at herself in the mirror as she was washing her hands. Her hair was frizzy and messy, and her eyes were still sleep-filled. She quickly washed her face to avoid her reflection. Still full of guilt and shame, she gave a quick glance toward the shower before she headed downstairs.

“There’s my sleepyhead!” her mother said, looking up from a book, when she descended the stairs. “I knew you were tired after dinner last night, you seemed miles away, so I figured it was best to just let you sleep in!” Her mother’s face held genuine warmth and that alone brightened Kylie’s mood. “Breakfast is in the fridge, if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks Mom,” Kylie replied, “I don’t think I’ve slept so long ever, it was just a rough week at school, with practice for regionals and all that. I’m still pretty tired!” I’m exhausted! she added to herself. She did everything she could to hide her true emotions, and presented a cheery, outwardly normal appearance. And it worked. Her mother turned back to her book without a second look.

Her little brother decided at that moment to run out of the downstairs bathroom and slapped Kylie’s legs with wet hands. “I forgot to dry my hands!” he giggled, unable to control his laughter as he looked at the wet prints on her pajamas. It was his idea of the ultimate practical joke.

In spite of everything, Kylie giggled back and chased after him as he screeched. “Oh, I’m going to get you!” she proclaimed as he sprinted toward where their mother was sitting. He hurled himself on the couch and tried to hide behind her as Kylie pursued him. Her mother yelped as the water from his arms and hands soaked through her clothes.

“She can’t protect you forever!” Kylie said seriously, “One day, soon, I’ll get you!”

Her brother screeched again and tried to dig further into the couch. “Nooooo! Don’t let her get me, Mom!” He giggled again, highlighting that he didn’t feel bad in the slightest about his practical joke.

The rest of the day flowed like a usual weekend. Kylie busied herself as best she could to avoid thinking about anything. She helped around the house, surprising her mother when she did more work than her usual chores. Whenever she was alone, her hands shot to her phone, usually to text Maya or endlessly scroll Instagram. That evening, she spent extra time playing video games with her sister, Lisa, and took it slower than usual instead of rushing through the levels. Anything to avoid dealing with those memories.

That night, she couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe I should have gotten up earlier, she thought to herself as she tried to count the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling again. The old trick she had used since she was little failed to help her now. Alone in the darkness, Kylie was all too aware of the tightness in her throat and that her body seemed to be just too sensitive. Her pajamas refused to sit comfortably, tossing and turning did nothing, and her blanket felt too warm. It’s too hot in here, she thought as she pushed her comforter aside.

With a sigh and a quick scrub of her face with her hands, she got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. She swung open the cabinet above the stove and grabbed a bag of chocolate chips, then a small bowl from the one above the dishwasher. She fished around in a third cabinet until her hand closed around the jar of peanut butter. A few spoonfuls later, she loaded the chocolate peanut butter concoction into the microwave and pressed the number one. She stared at the display and counted down the numbers as the microwave hummed.

As the timer dwindled to their finale, she stopped the microwave with just a second left, to avoid the beep, then pulled the bowl out of the microwave. She grabbed a spoon and plopped down on the couch in the living room, tucking her legs underneath her and took tiny little bites of the sweet goop after opening Netflix on her phone. She smashed the 10 second skip button whenever a romantic scene graced the small screen.

A few hours later, she finally returned to her room, popped in her ear buds, cranked up the music volume, and got back into bed. She fell into a fitful sleep full of dreams that she couldn’t remember.

Sunday was worse, filled with anxiety and a foreboding heaviness that Kylie couldn’t seem to shake off. With a knot in her stomach, she went through the day, trying, like yesterday, to keep herself busy. I’m not ready for Monday, she thought to herself as she sat on the couch, unable to pay attention to the rerun of her favorite TV show. She found herself constantly scrolling her phone, but the algorithms seemed to know her shame, constantly showing her content that seemed tailor made to highlight teenagers at school. She rolled her eyes at a stupid “ranking the best pranks” video that started with a group of teenage boys throwing water balloons of shaving cream at cheerleaders during practice yelling, “Creamed!!!” The cheerleaders let out over-the-top shrieks of indignation as she sighed and swiped the app away.

The day seemed to drag by, but at the same time, also seemed to move too quickly. Sunday progressed like a slow-motion replay when her thoughts dominated her mind, interspersed with the blur of activity that heralded the end of the weekend. It was approaching too fast. Whenever there was a momentary lapse in activity or distractions, the memories came tumbling back. The memory of Harrington holding her in his lap with his hands on her chest as she tried to get away made her pulse quicken, and she tried to distract herself with her phone. The one with his hard penis pushing into her mouth causing her to gag made her throat tighten while she was sitting on the couch watching tv. And finally, reliving the dual assault where she was laid out on his desk as her back arched while she struggled to breathe with Jameson’s penis in her mouth sent goosebumps across her entire body. Worst of all was the shameful memory of what she did after the men had their fun. “I’m never doing that again!” she mumbled to herself, supremely aware of her flushing face, as she scrubbed a baking sheet in the sink after helping her mom bake cookies. They might be making me do the other stuff, but I’m never doing THAT again!

Kylie headed up to her room later that evening and changed into her pajamas. A quick walk across the hallway took her to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and brushed her hair. She moisturized, applying generous dabs of cream to her cheeks and forehead. The large dab on her cheek started to run down and she quickly swiped it with a finger. It looked like semen, she realized with a grimace. Oh, come on! she thought angrily as she started to massage the cream into her face vigorously. Unbidden, the scene of her second blowjob, but the first she could remember, shot through her mind. She remembered the video of Harrington’s cum dripping down her face as she knelt before him on all fours. So stupid, this is so stupid, why is this happening to me? Why didn’t I just study hard, why can’t I just be smarter, so this never happened?!

She finished rubbing the moisturizing cream into her face in a huff, angry at herself for letting this all happen, before she flicked off the light and went back to her bedroom. She grabbed her bag, quickly checking that she had all of her school supplies and gymnastics gear. After packing her bag for the morning, she pulled out her clothes for the morning, then straightened the stuff on her desk. She eventually popped her ear buds back in and climbed into bed. Turning up the volume again, she scrolled aimlessly again, until her eyelids finally grew heavy and she drifted off to sleep.

A firm knock on her door jerked her awake. “It’s already seven, Honey,” her mother’s voice drifted through the door. She peered at the clock and realized she overslept, wondering why her alarm hadn’t gone off.

“Ugh,” she moaned as she sat up, and her ear buds plopped down onto her blanket, “I am going to be late!” She jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed in a sleep filled haze. Her pajamas hit the floor as she shrugged out of them and pulled up her panties and skirt, then fished for a bra and quickly tugged it on. Her shirt and hoodie followed before she sat back down to put on her socks and shoes. She pulled her hair into a messy ponytail on her way to the kitchen where she grabbed a granola bar for breakfast.

“That’s not a good breakfast, Kylie!” her mother said as she fisted the bar and turned toward the front door.

“Love you, bye!” Kylie called to her mom as she hurried out to her car.

I didn’t even get time to brush my teeth! she groaned to herself as she sped into the school parking lot. The granola bar she ate on the way left a cloyingly sweet taste in her mouth and she swallowed a few times to clear it away. Her throat only hurt a little today and she quickly drove the thought from her mind as she got out of her car and jogged up the steps to the school.

She made it to her first period just after the morning bell sounded. “Cutting it close, Kylie.” Mrs. Culvert said cheerily from the front of the classroom. Kylie slid into her seat next to Maya, who promptly made a shocked face at her. Kylie just smiled back.

At her locker after class, Kylie stared blankly inside. Amid the usual clutter, a single folded slip of paper, identical to last week’s, sat perched atop her textbooks.

“I have to peeeeeeeeeee, so bad!” Maya tittered as she shuffled and headed down the hall, crushing her overly large energy drink can in her hands.

“Maybe you should stop drinking that Pixie Spunk!” Kylie retorted at her friend’s back as she skittered away. She pulled her attention away from the note in her locker as Maya left.

Naturally, a random boy heard and called out, “I have some spunk for you!” as he watched Maya dart toward the girls’ restroom.

“Your spunk is too weak, little boy!” Maya retorted as she disappeared with a twirl behind the closing door.

With Maya gone, Kylie’s attention snapped back to her locker. She reached in to grab the note. Her fingers brushed it and a flare of dread coursed through her guts. With trembling hands, she unfolded it. “Have fun at practice today,” it read. The same plain font as the first note stared up at her. What does that even mean?! she thought as she crumpled the note up and shoved it deep into her pocket.

Kylie waited for Maya to finish up in the restroom, and they headed toward their next class. Maya burst through the door and headed to her usual seat and Kylie slinked in behind her, trying to avoid attention. She held her breath and kept her eyes down as she sat down, refusing to look toward the front of the classroom where Jameson stood watching students filter into the classroom.

Jameson’s smooth voice slithered through Shakespearean analysis after the class began. Kylie hunched over her notebook, sketching frantic spirals, trying her best to ignore the lecture. Then Jameson paused and his gaze sliced toward her like a scalpel as he cleared his throat. She dared a quick peek toward the front of the room.

“Much like Lady Macbeth’s futile cleaning of imaginary stains,” he mused, eyes locked onto hers. His smirk widened faintly as she looked away in haste. “Some compulsion remains ... Undeniable. Even amidst...” he paused, letting the word hang, “Convulsing guilt. Or perhaps...” he added softly, leaning on his desk, “a stolen climax buried deep.”

Kylie flinched as if struck, her pen gouging the paper, feeling herself flush.

When the bell finally rang, it felt like a boiler’s safety valve cracking open, bleeding away the pressure that had been mounting all morning. She bolted from her seat, shoving past startled classmates, fleeing into the quickly filling hall. She didn’t wait for Maya as she hurried to her locker, breathing hard as she leaned her forehead against the cool metal. Breathe, just take deep breaths...

Kylie made it through her remaining classes on autopilot until the final bell rang. Jameson’s taunting words hung in her mind, constantly reminding her of her own shame as she slid her notebook and pen into her bag at the end of the school day. Just get through practice, then I can go home, just get through practice, then I can go home, she repeated to herself as she made her final approach to her locker to put away her books. She slammed the locker shut, then turned toward the exit that led to the gymnasium.