Olympus Drive Book 2: Nothing to See Here

Chapter 36

Dean

I lean against my locker like a character in a teen movie, enjoying my emotional crisis. Debbie's class lets out any minute. Last I saw her, I was ushering her inside her house, completely drunk. In retrospect I should have made sure she made it to the couch safely. I did not. 

Instead I just went home myself. Thankfully my mom didn't notice and she wasn't having her icky relationship with my dad though she was thinking about it she was trying on her skinny jeans again. Which is completely dumb my dad is attracted to anyone no matter what they look like or are wearing I know that because he told me. I asked him once when I was exploring my own sexuality and I asked him how he knew who he was attracted to and if he had certain things he looked for. He said 'oh no just anyone is fine'. Then I asked if we could quit talking about it and he said sure.

"Debbie," I call her name as she and the others flood out the class doors, a black backpack is slung over her shoulder and her head is down, she's wearing a large jacket despite the cool day.

"What is it?" she looks confused. She doesn't not know me but we haven't hung out since middle school. I'm not exactly popular, she is. She usually wears make up but today she isn't.

"You um-----you don't remember last night?" at all? That's creepy as fuck. She was ready to have sex with me and now she doesn't remember even talking to me?

"No---you do?" she asks, surprised, "You were at that party?"

"Um—no, I found you walking home drunk I walked with you ---you said to talk to you today?" I lie, quickly.

"Fuck—I only remember having like one drink, and dancing but---this morning I was super sick, and look---" she pulls down her jacket to show me my own handprint, burned into her forearm. Fuck. I didn't know it did that. It just felt good to touch them. "Someone fucking did this to me while I was drunk---my mom took me to the police this morning. I had to do a drug test and go to the hospital for a rape kit---it was creepy and weird and gross and they said that if someone burned me and I didn't know it--they could have raped me."

"I'm sure---I'm sure someone would don't that," I say, my stomach dropping. "I'm sure someone would never do that."

"Yeah well people do---they said maybe plastic surgery can cover it up they don't know," she says, shivering. She's almost going to cry. "I wanted to stay home but my mom is pissed she said it's all my fault for going."

"It's not---it's not your fault---you were just having a good time, you were having fun that's not wrong," it shouldn't be anyway. But now it feels like it is. "I'm sure nothing happened. I mean---I know it didn't. You were perfectly fine walking home, you were happy, you said you'd been at the party that's it I just walked with you because you were a little drunk. That's it."

"Yeah, well, you didn't see my arm? It hurt really bad when I woke up," she sighs, still upset.

"No, no I—it was dark I really wasn't paying attention," I say, feeling like throwing up, "Look I'm sure it's just a—weird mistake or something—"

"Detective Stamos said that a person would have to be on fire to do that, that it had to be a brand," she says, shivering.

"Oh that's really weird," why is Detective Stamos the only person who investigates things in this town?

"Yeah well it's really freaky---I'm gonna be late to class, thanks—for walking me home."

"Don't thank me, really, don't," I say, turning to go. Screw class. I don't want to be near anyone. Apparently I'm a danger to them. I need to stop. I just, don't know how. Or really want to.