Hey Punk, Keep This a Secret

Chapter Seven: Chance Andrews

 The first place I thought to run was the Cartors' house. It was the farthest house away from mine, and I figured that Hart would never find me there if he tried. I can't exactly recall what was going on in my head at the time. I only remember that I was dead set on getting there.

By the time I got there, my legs were so numb that I fell on the hill. I was almost certain that Hart wasn't going to find me there, so I took a moment to just lay down in the dark. I had to ground myself using the texture of the grass. Come on, Chance. You're in a safe place. Knock on the door. They can help you. Eventually, I was able to find the energy to walk up the hill and knock on the door.

After waiting for a moment that felt like ages, I was caught by surprise. Devin Milan- Damien Milan's little brother- was the one who opened the door. I assumed that something similar happened to him too, and he had the same idea as me.

"Chance? What are you doing here," he asked as if he knew me.

"Let me in, I've got to hide from my boyfriend until my mom comes home," I told him bluntly with exhaustion.

"Why, what happened," Devin wondered, reasonably so.

"He fuckin' raped me." I was so exhausted by that point that I couldn't even bother beating around the bush. "Let me the hell in."

Without another word, Devin made way to let me inside.

The Cartors had a fairly large house compared to mine. My mother would have called it a mansion. In fact, she did call it a mansion when we used to pass by on drives. I guess my mom just thinks every house on the larger end is automatically a mansion. I don't blame her. I kind of do too.

He told me to follow him, and started making his way to the bathroom. At first, I didn't know why Devin was leading me there. When we arrived, he handed me a bottle of pills. I soon realized what they were.

"Are these morning-after pills," I asked anyway, just to be sure.

Devin nodded.

I couldn't even bother to think where they could have come from. The possibility that I was pregnant invaded my thoughts.

"You should take one soon. I'm sure you'd rather have the pill than an abortion," Devin said. "I hear that abortions really suck."

"If you were your brother, I'd be so offended right now," I said.

"I know. I would be too if I were you," Devin said.

So I went to the kitchen, got a glass of water, and took the pill. Better safe than sorry, I suppose. After that was done, Devin and I sat down on the couch. Neither of us could possibly sleep after what just happened, so it was the best rest we could manage.

I texted Danny for a reason that I can't remember, and just as I closed my phone I saw Devin open a journal and start writing.

I started getting nervous. "What are you writing," I asked.

"About what happened to me," Devin said (which didn't really make sense with my question, but we were both pretty exhausted).

I already knew what he meant by those words. The thought disgusted me. "Why would you want a written reminder of your trauma," I asked.

"I don't see it as a reminder," Devin said. "I see it as evidence."

This way of thinking baffled me. "I guess- if you really think about it- you could view it like that," I said.

Devin didn't add anything to that. He just kept writing quietly.

I ended up actually falling asleep apparently, because the next thing I remember is Mr. Cartor waking us up. "Hey boys," he said. Then he turned to Devin and asked, "Who's your friend?"