Part 6C

Sam

I hoofed it back to school. Jenna's house was a little further than half way between my house and the school, cutting a normally thirty-odd minute walk down to about fifteen. I was just glad I had been able to grab my clothes before leaving the school. Making the walk in the buff was not my thing, outreach be damned. By the time I got onto school grounds I was sweating from the sun beating upon me. And I had a rock in my shoe.

I stripped at the door. While I didn't particularly mind the crowd of onlookers that normally hung out during dressing and undressing, given my current frame of mind I was glad not to be bothered. A glance at my watch showed me I had arrived just a few minutes before the bell would ring to let classes out, and I would be able to make it to History. I made my way down the halls and tried not to think. One of the hall monitors spotted me and nodded me along when I showed him my hall pass.

It was hard to make myself calm. A big part of me still seethed in anger at what had happened. That part of me felt that Bret, George, and their buddy Frank hadn't been adequately punished for trying to rape Jenna. But beyond that I was worried about her. I wondered how badly she was going to be messed up by this. The question was, how much of a hold would it have on her? Was it something that would run her life and keep her from every trusting a person ever again? Was it something she could come to terms with and learn to cope with? My jaw ached and I realized I was clenching it. I made myself stop. A small, selfish part of me thought of how I wouldn't be able to tell her how I felt now, that there would be no way she would even consider intimacy with someone now, even if she had been feeling for me a measure of what I felt for her. I resolved to push that selfish part of me aside so that I could instead focus on the important thing at hand: Jenna and her health.

I waited for the class ahead of me to empty then quickly went into Ms. Byron's classroom. She was wiping off the board when she glanced up and saw me.

"I've been told what happened this afternoon," she said to me. "It's a good thing you were there. I've also been told if you come in that you've been excused from classes for the afternoon, if you need it."

I shook my head and quickly took my seat. "It's okay. I should do my best to attend what classes I can. I don't want to get into a habit of missing."

Ms. Byron surprised me by smiling at me sympathetically. I don't think I'd ever seen her smile before. "No one would blame you if you took a day off, Sam, especially considering what happened. I've talked with several of your past and present reachers, you know. We all know what a hard worker you are."

I nodded and smiled awkwardly. I'd never really known how to deal with praise. I had little of it at home. "Thanks for saying that, but I'd still like to attend, if that's okay."

"Of course it's okay," Ms. Byron said. "But if you need to leave, please do."

"I will," I replied. "And I don't want any relief. Please."

Liz came in after awhile and sat with me while the students came filtering in. She had heard about what happened and asked me to give her sympathy to Jenna next time I saw her. The period went by slowly. I paid even less attention to the lecture than usual. My notes were out and my pen in hand, but I only scribbled down a few lines when I realized that I hadn't taken any notes by halfway through the lecture. I tried not to think about things too much. I was starting to wonder if it was normal that I felt so affected by the afternoons events. It hadn't been me being raped, after all. But affected I was, and in so many ways it made my head hurt if I tried to sort them. Some of the feelings I expected; the anger, the worry about Jenna's health and mental state.

I didn't understand the rising guilt, though.

The bell rang and I stood, asking myself why I had even bothered attending. I could have gone home and found something to at least preoccupy my mind enough to keep myself from dwelling and brooding on everything. But I reminded myself I didn't really want to be there either. I briefly wondered if I would regret my distraction today come test time, and decided that I really didn't care at the moment.

I stepped out of the class room and Andrew collided with me hard enough to nearly knock me off my feet.

"Sam! Shit man, are you okay? Is Jenna okay? Where is she?"

I righted myself and held a hand out. "Slow down, Andy. I'm fine. I took Jenna home for the day. She's... I don't know. I think she'll be okay. I think."

"Did those assholes hurt her?" Andy growled.

"Not as badly as they could have," I replied evasively. I didn't want to say yes, and I didn't want to say no; how could I even claim to know? 'Hurt' was something Jenna could overwhelmingly be, and no one would be able to see it.

"Fuck," Andy muttered. He took a deep breath and shook his head. "This is so messed up. I can't believe this shit happened."

"Bret and George have been expelled and are facing some pretty stacked criminal charges. Their buddy Frank, too."

"Frank? Wait, as in Frank Torley? You fought Frank Torley?" Andy gaped at me.

"I guess. I don't know who he was. He looked like a jock."

"That's him," Andy confirmed. "The three of them are always hanging out."

I shrugged and started walking. Andrew followed me. One girl stopped me with a request to touch my cock, which I distractedly allowed. Other than her, no one stopped me. Whether it was because they were all too distracted with getting out of school or because they had heard about what happened I didn't know.

"That's nuts, Sam. Frank Torley's got a reputation for fighting. He's a mean bastard, by the sound of things. He's been kicked out of a bunch of schools for beating the snot out of people," Andy explained.

"Has he?" I asked distractedly. "Then he ought to be used to it enough to not care this time."

"I dunno about that," Andy replied. "This is the first I've heard of him getting the business end of a fight. And Bret and George too?"

"It doesn't matter, Andy," I said. I felt claustrophobic. I felt guilty. I felt mad.

"Look," I turned to face him, "I need to go do something. Find Amelia and Derik and Theresa, if you can."

Andy gave me a questioning look.

"I know all of them want to know what's going on, and I'd rather them hear it from me than gossip around school that is probably completely inaccurate," I explained. "And I'd rather I tell it to them than have them harassing Jenna about it. The less Jenna has to relive the whole thing, the better."

"Okay," Andy nodded. He clapped my shoulder. His smile was strained. "I'll bring them to the front steps. We'll wait for you."

"You can go once you tell them, I know you've got basketball practice," I told him.

"Fuck practice, this is much more important," Andy said.

I nodded my thanks distractedly. I hurried to the faculty parking lot just in time to catch Sensei Marcus getting to his car.

"Sensei!" I called and ran over to him.

He smiled at me as he saw me coming. He threw his bag into his back seat and shut the door before turning to face me. He reached out and clasped my hand tightly before pulling me into a rough hug.

"Sam. I heard."

I nodded and we both leaned against his car. I was quiet for a moment, and he let me be. He knew if I had come to find him I had something on my mind. He would wait until I voiced it.

"I feel strange," I said finally.

"That was the first time you've ever had someone attack you, wasn't it?" Sensei asked. I nodded.

"It isn't the same, is it?" He said when I remained silent.

"No," I shook my head. "I didn't expect it to feel like this. It's nothing like in the dojo."

"And how does it feel?" He asked.

I looked up at him, puzzled. "You don't know?"

He smiled and looked distant for a moment. "It's been a long time since someone attacked me. Really attacked me. But I remember it. It's different for everyone who goes through it, I think."

"How was it with you?" I asked.

"It was... hard. The man was drunk and thought I had money. When I showed him I did't, he thought I was lying and attacked me. He had a knife. I had to break his arm to make him stop. I was scared. My training made my body respond automatically, but in my mind I was thinking that I had no idea how I was going to get out of there without getting hurt."

I nodded and let out a shaky breath. "I... I was confident in what you've taught me. Even with three of them I... it was nothing. I dropped them without a thought."

I wasn't bragging; I don't think I had ever tried to brag to Sensei Marcus. Just being in his presence had always somehow humbled me. I was telling him how I honestly felt, and he nodded his understanding.

"When it was done I was mad. I was enraged. I wanted to hurt them... I wanted them to pay for what they tried to do. I still do." I looked down and swallowed heavily. It hurt, to admit that ugly side of me had gotten so strong. It hurt to even admit it to myself. To admit such a flaw to my Sensei... it made my gut burn. But I would tell him. I would tell him everything. It was something akin to confession, somehow, to tell Sensei of the things I had done and how ugly my feelings were. He had more wisdom than anyone I knew, and I needed that wisdom now.

"It's natural to feel that way," Sensei told me. He placed a strong hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye. "I felt something like that, too, though maybe not like you did. You have a lot of anger in you, Sam."

I flinched as if he'd struck me, but nodded all the same.

"A lot of anger," he repeated. "We've known this for a long time. You bury it in your training. You control it and keep it from becoming destructive or harmful to yourself or others. And I'm proud of you for that."

"I wish it would leave," I said miserably. I tried not to reflect on the anger and bitterness we were talking about. It was like an old wound; you get used to it. You can live for days without even noticing it, then it flares up and its all you can think about. "I just want to be calm."

Sensei shrugged and looked at me thoughtfully. "It'll never get better if the environment you're in never changes. So much of your anger comes from your mother. You'll never be rid of that anger if nothing changes in that part of your life. Maybe even then it won't improve. It's rooted pretty deep."

"I've tried to make peace with it and not care about it," I said softly.

Sensei gripped my shoulder tightly, lending me his strength. "I know, Sam. You're a very strong kid, you know; not just physically either. You hide your anger well and have found a healthy way to channel your aggression issues into something constructive and worthwile. And you're only seventeen. Even most adults don't have their issues figured out as well as you."

I shrugged and sighed. "I still don't feel right about it."

"And I don't feel you came to see me about your anger issues; we resolved those a long time ago, and even if the fight got you angry or upset, I know you still had and have a firm hand on your temper. So what is this really about, Sam?"

I squirmed a bit. Sensei Marcus knew me too well.

"I feel... I don't know... guilty. Ashamed."

"Why?" Sensei Marcus asked evenly.

"Because," I replied, "It wasn't a fair fight. Even with the three of them, I had an advantage in a big way. I feel... I don't know... almost like I cheated, I guess. They had no idea and I took advantage of that."

"Do you think it would have been better to let them get away with what they were doing? Or to let them beat on you?" Sensei asked.

"Of course not," I said crossly. "I could have never stood there and done nothing while they tried to..." I trailed off. Why was it so hard to say such a simple word? "And if I'd let them attack me without defending myself, what would all this training have been for?"

Sensei gave me a meaningful look and I could tell he pulled the 'answer your own question' trick. I considered my own words.

"Ah, Sam," Sensei chuckled. He patted my shoulder and opened the front door of his car. "You did the right thing. The only thing you could really have done. You know that. My guess would be that you feel guilty because under all your anger and aggression, you're a good person who wouldn't really wish harm on anyone. You're a gentle person, Sam, and that's not a bad thing. It's pretty admirable, actually. But remember, even gentle people should do what's right, and you did that today. Put it out of your mind."

Sensei gave me another rough hug before he sat down in his car. "I think you should take the night off tonight. Come tomorrow, if you're feeling better."

"I'll be fine, Sensei," I replied.

"Your head is elsewhere. You would be distracted all night. Coming to the dojo tonight would be counterproductive."

"You're probably right," I admitted with a sigh. "I would probably just slow the other students down."

"Don't worry about it too much, Sam. I would need a day off to collect myself too. We'll see how you're feeling in the school class tomorrow, okay? If you're able to focus, then you can come to the evening class at the dojo."

"Hai, Sensei," I acknowledged obediently.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and Sam?"

I looked up. He smiled warmly at me from the seat of his car. "Stop doubting yourself. I don't, not one bit."

I waved as he pulled out of the parking lot, then I circled around the outside of the main building to the front doors, mulling over what he said. I was glad I had gone to talk to him, and I was trying to put things into perspective. Sensei Marcus was right, like always. What else could I have done? Any alternative seemed to end in unacceptable conditions, and I had tried to keep things from getting violent. And Brett and his friends definitely deserved what they got. I forced the lingering guilt away. Time enough to deal with that later.

Andrew had either found some of our friends in a group or he had ran his ass off all around school, because all of them were waiting for me at the front steps.

"What happened? What happened? Where is she? I swear I'm gonna..." Derik started ranting as soon as I stepped out the front doors.

"Calm down," I said evenly. "Just relax and sit down and I'll explain."

"Is she all right?" Theresa said worriedly. She was sitting next to Andy and worrying at her hands.

"She's okay. I think she's a bit freaked, but she's okay. They let her go home for the day and she'll be back tomorrow."

"Have they exempted her from the Program?" Amelia asked.

"They offered, but she opted to stay in it," I replied.

"What!" Derik exclaimed loudly. By the looks on everyone else's faces, he wasn't the only one surprised.

"It was her choice," I shrugged. "I don't know why she's doing it, but I'm going to watch her like a hawk. I'm not going to let anything else happen to her."

"What did happen, exactly?" Andy asked.

"I started filling them in," Amelia said, "But I could only tell them so much. I wasn't there and all."

I told them what happened, from the moment I left martial arts class to go to lunch up until I left Jenna at the front door of her house. Theresa began sniffling at one point but remained otherwise silent. Derik almost interrupted several times as anger, concern, and horror alternately washed over his face. Whenever he jerked to his feet and opened his mouth in outrage Amelia grabbed his shoulder and made him sit back down. I subconsciously wondered at how close our group was getting that Amelia could make the hotheaded Derik quiet down like that. Then again, Amelia was kind of scary and it was usually a better idea to listen to her than not.

When I finished speaking, I let out a heavy sigh. I'd been talking for nearly an hour and the afternoon was wearing thin. My mouth was dry from so much talking, but I felt oddly relieved. Just telling my little band of friends seemed to have relaxed me and eased away some of the stress that had been twisting my muscles in tight knots. It sounds corny, but I honestly felt that my friends had helped to take some of the burden that today had heaped on my shoulders.

Theresa sniffled again and looked a bit unsteady for a moment. Amelia sat down beside her and hugged her tightly. I thought for a moment that Theresa might begin to cry, but she gathered herself and returned Amelia's hug before sitting straighter.

Derik looked paler than usual. He had started pacing after the first five minutes of my explanation and hadn't stopped yet.

"Derik, you're making me nauseous," Theresa said at last. I felt like chuckling, but couldn't.

Derik stopped pacing and looked around as if he'd been badly spacing out. He nodded and looked at the ground before stepping up to me and looking me in the face.

"I've been a prick," he said bluntly.

"What?" I asked confusedly.

"I've been a prick," Derik repeated. "I judged you and tried to keep you away from Jenna, because I was afraid you were going to hurt her or abuse your position as her partner. I guess I was kind of afraid you were going to replace me as her friend too. So I was an asshole to you. I'm glad you didn't let that keep you from being her friend and taking care of her."

I smiled softly and laid my hand on his shoulder. He was shaking just a bit. I wasn't really sure why, but I suspected he wasn't used to addressing people this directly. "I would have been her friend no matter what, Derik. I don't judge people by their company. And anyway, I don't think you've been a prick. You're protective of your friends and not used to new people, that's all."

Derik nodded absently and didn't look completely convinced, but he stopped shaking. "Thanks, Sam. Thanks for protecting her. I really don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there. I'm just so glad she's okay."

I squeezed his shoulder and nodded, then let my hand drop, extending it toward him. "Friends?"

Derik looked at my hand for a moment before smiling awkwardly and shaking it. "Yeah, of course. Friends. All of us."

"This is good," Theresa smiled. "Jenna would have liked to see this. We should tell her."

"Speaking of Jenna," Andy spoke up, "What are we gonna do? We have to take care of her, but how?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I don't know how much this is affecting her yet. If we try to comfort her too much we may just end up smothering her and making it worse."

"I think she'll be okay," Amelia spoke firmly. "She's going to need time... anyone would. But I'm telling all of you, the girl's a lot stronger than we give her credit for on the inside."

"I believe it," I seconded.

"I know she is," Theresa said, but wouldn't elaborate past that.

"Should we try to talk about it with her?" Andy asked. "Or should we wait till she brings it up?"

"She won't bring it up," Theresa pointed out. "She's naturally too quiet to talk about something like that in the first place. That it happened to her makes it even worse."

Derik leaned against the brick wall of the school and shook his head. "But what if we upset her by saying something?"

"We just have to go slow," I suggested. "Use your own judgment on if or when to bring it up, but feel her out first. See if it seems like she would be willing to talk about it."

"Some of us don't really know her well enough to tell yet," Andy grumbled.

"When do you really have a chance to talk to her alone?" Amelia asked.

"I might run into her in the halls or something," Andy protested.

"Yeah, because the hallway is a great place to talk to her about something like this," Amelia snapped.

"All right, all right," Andy relented.

"If you're not sure when it would be a good time to talk about it, look to one of us that knows her better for your cues," Theresa suggested.

"We're here to help her," Amelia reminded. "As long as she knows we're all here to help and do everything we can to support her, I don't think we'll upset her too badly."

We talked for a bit longer before agreeing that from tomorrow on we would make extra sure to be as supportive as possible for Jenna and that we would all be there for her. We began to break up and go our separate ways.

"Andy, can you give me a ride home?" I asked.

Andrew gave me a strange look. "As long as you put some clothes on before you get in my car."

I actually looked down to see if I really was naked, which was almost as embarrassing a reaction as my being naked itself. I looked up and blushed in embarrassment. I had honestly completely forgotten I had stripped back down once I had arrived back on school grounds.

"Damn Program," I muttered crossly and retrieved my clothes from the sole box still remaining by the front doors.

"I'll leave early tomorrow morning so I can pick you up," Andy offered as we got into his car.

"It's okay, don't worry about it," I assured him, "I just didn't want to walk home today, and I know you're not in a rush to get home since you've missed practice and all that. But I'll be fine walking in the morning."

Andy glanced over at me as he pulled out of student parking. "That's like, almost an hours walk man."

I shrugged and grinned at him. "I'm in good enough shape to make it. Maybe."

"It's your call chief, but I wouldn't mind getting you."

"I know," I replied. I sank down into the seat and shut my eyes. "I don't want to give my mom more ammo to use against me. I think if a car pulls in the drive to pick me up again she's going to throw beer bottles at it. We're already at risk of that happening if you drop me off."

"I understand, Sam," he assured me. "I wouldn't want to tempt fate either."

"I wish I didn't have to fucking worry about it," I muttered. This, of course, was why I had come back to school when I didn't really even have to; I didn't want to go home and deal with my mom. My dad probably wouldn't be home till pretty late. I had no idea what kind of frame of mind my mom would be in when I got home. I felt the tension returning to my shoulders and back just thinking about it. Today was just one damn thing after another.

We pulled into my drive and I stepped out.

"Hang in there man," Andy told me. I nodded and clasped his hand.

"Thanks for the ride. I'll be fine, just be sure your parents aren't too pissed at you for missing practice."

"Eh, it doesn't really matter," Andy smirked. " Mom, Dad, the coach... each and every one of them can bite me for all I care. Friends come first."

"Thanks man, I really appreciate it," I said sincerely. "Just blame me, it'll be cool. I'll see you tomorrow."

I waved as Andy pulled out of the drive, then went into my house. I felt instantly depressed by what a filthy wreck everything was. Every day it got worse. I sighed and put my book bag on the floor by the door, then went to my small room and plopped down on my bed.

I laid there, staring at the ceiling, for a long time, my mind heavy with thoughts of Jenna and the assault. I tried to put the whole thing out of my mind. It wasn't working. I glanced around my room. It was small, the smallest room in the house. It was a bit cluttered; All the personal things I had ever had over the years were crowded into the room. If I let any of my stuff sit anywhere else in the house, even in storage in the garage or attic, there was a good chance Mom would sell it. Still, even as cramped and crowded as my room was, it was a lot cleaner than the rest of the house. My closet was too small, even for the small number of clothes I had. I had a bunch of old toys that I was unwilling to part with for some reason stuffed under my bed. I had a small, cramped desk in one corner to do school work and other writing or bookwork at with a dusty and seldom used desk lamp sitting on the desktop along with some scattered papers and several pens.

A slim but tall book-case sat against the wall near the foot of my bed. My books filled it to overflowing. My books; the only possessions I had that I really cared about. I had little in the way of things I could entertain myself with. Mom refused to let me have a TV of my own, and we couldn't afford it with her selfish spending habits anyway. Books were my escape. Reading was one of the things I loved about school; I could quite happily read almost anything.

I picked up my worn copy of The Iliad and started at the beginning. I loved Homer. I had read both The Iliad and The Odyssey many times, and always ended up reading them again. Classics were classics for a reason, dammit.

By the time I had finished reading for the day several hours had passed and it was well into the evening and approaching night. It was already dark outside. I set my book down and felt hungry and thirsty. I still hadn't eaten yet today. I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There was hardly anything inside, and most of the refrigerators contents were of questionable age. The rest were Moms beer and other alcoholic drinks. I picked up the carton of orange juice and gave it a shake. There was hardly more than a mouthful left.

I shut the fridge and leaned against the dirty countertop, thinking about what had happened. I couldn't even believe it still. I don't think there had been a rape at Monroe High in a very long time, if ever. There'd never been one while I had been attending at least. Monroe had a good reputation for being a well ordered school with the lowest number of fights or otherwise unwanted conduct in the area.

I was worried about Jenna and how she was holding up. How was she dealing with what had happened? Did her family know yet? I wondered if I should call her and see how she was doing. I was worried about her.

And I missed her.

I drank the last of the orange juice from the carton. I was completely distracted by how heavily I was mulling over my thoughts and wasn't paying any attention to what was going on around me.

I jumped near out of my skin when an empty beer can beamed me across the head. I glared at my mother and slammed the empty carton of orange juice onto the counter. "What the hell was what for?" I demanded loudly.

"You fuckin' know what that was f-for!" She slurred angrily. I could almost smell her breath across the room. She was drunker than I had seen her in a while.

I grabbed the counter so tightly my knuckles went white. My temper was beginning to fray already. On top of everything else, now my mom was starting shit in a drunken fit. I tried to bring my temper under control. I don't know how well it was working. "No, I don't. Maybe you should try explaining. For once," I said, trying to keep my voice steady and calm.

"You fuckin' tried to rape a girl!" She spat. Even as she tried to confront me she was swaying badly on her feet and had to lean against the doorframe.

"What?" I said tightly, unable to believe what she had said.

"You fuckin' know!" She slurred. "The sh... s... school called. They said you... you raped some girl!"

I began to tremble, unable to believe my mother could have possibly made such a bad situation even worse. "I didn't rape a girl. I didn't try to rape a girl. I stopped a rape. I kept it from happening."

"Liar!" She snarled. "Always t-ty... tryin' to save your own damn skin!"

I shook my head and swallowed. I didn't want a fight. I didn't want to lose my temper. I just wanted the situation to go away. "If I had gotten caught trying to rape a girl, don't you think the police would have me in custody right now?"

My mom paused, and seemed to be trying hard to piece my words together. She mumbled several things under her breath, as if trying to find a way to refute what I had to say. Finally she spat out, "I fuckin' know you did it you little bastard! You've always been trouble! First you got your ass in the Program so you could cause trouble, and now this! D-don't lie, I know you, you little shit!"

I snapped. I spun and put my fist through a cabinet door before ripping it off the hinges and tossing it into the wall across the room. "You don't fucking know me!" I screamed at her. I stalked across the kitchen. She tried to keep me cornered by blocking my way out the kitchen door. Even as enraged as I was, I couldn't bring myself to hurt her, but neither was I entirely gentle when I pushed her out of my way.

"You don't know a fucking thing about me! You never tried! You've never even tried to talk to me except to accuse me of some absurd bullshit like this! You are the fucking worse mother I've ever even heard of! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I roared and bellowed out my pain and frustration as I grabbed my book bag up and ripped a piece of paper from my notebook. I quickly scribbled a note on it before spinning back to angrily face my mother. She stared at me from the kitchen doorway, wobbling unsteadily on her feet with an uncomprehending look on her face.

"Stay out of my life," I commanded as I pointed my finger accusingly at her. "Just stay the fuck away from me and never try to even look at me again. I'm done with you! I should have quit letting you ruin my life and make me miserable a long time ago. Well I'm done with you goddammit! You hear me? Done!"