"Come on, Tara."
"I said no. Cut it out before I punch you!"
"COME ON!" His hands all over my legs going higher and higher then, holding me in place with one hand as he tries to shove his hand into the top of my jeans.
"Dylan, I said STOP!" So weak. I'm too wasted to push him away from me! Oh God, what am I supposed to do!
"Tara.. Tara, did you hear what I said?" The scene blurs away from me. Mom standing in the doorway to the kitchen staring at me with a look of concern.
"I'm sorry, Mom. What?"
"I asked if you wanted some dinner. I just finished making it."
"No thanks. I have a lot of homework. I think I'll actually just go to my room."
Mom frowns and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "Oh..Okay. I thought we could watch some junk TV and eat dinner together. It seems like I never see you anymore, hun."
Way to lay it on thick there, MOM.
"Yeah, sure. Just let me go into my room for a few minutes and I'll come sit with you." Shuffling down the hallway to my room, I walk in and shut the door as quietly as possible. As soon as it latches closed, I put my back to the door and slide down to the floor, bringing my knees to my chest.
Ever since the incident at the lease, I can't control my thoughts anymore. Random stuff will set me into a blurred frenzy, taking me back to that truck, feeling the hot dirty air blowing out of the vents onto my face, feeling his hands all over me..
"Dylan, please stop! Please," his hand inside my jeans now, the other holding me down as I try to crawl into the driver seat.
"What's going on here?" Dylan freezes in fear and finally stops touching me, Ben climbing into the truck and lighting a cigarette. I scoot a little closer to Ben trying to get away from Dylan. Dylan and I do not say a thing as Ben starts telling us about Steph being super wasted, throwing up all over her car trying to hang out the window-
"Tara! Food's getting cold!"
"I'm coming!"
Picking myself up off the floor, I slowly take a deep breath and compose myself before walking out into the hall and walking down to the kitchen. I don't know how, I don't know when, but someone is going to pay for this. My so-called friends messed with the wrong bitch.
YOU ARE READING
What He Did
Teen FictionIn high school, you think you can trust your friends. Tara thought so anyway. Small town, drinking on the weekend, hanging out with your friends every minute you can. Sounds typical, right? Tara has just started high school and finds herself the gr...
