One Stupid Thing

1:3:13

TW: Mild Sexual Harassment
If this topic will upset you, please do not force yourself to read. Your mental health comes first :)
——

I stood in front of my full-length mirror poking and prodding at myself, but everything felt wrong. My jean shorts, too short. My white bikini top, too revealing. My hair, too frizzy. I groan in frustration and adjust my clothing.

I check the time on my phone. 7:48. Shit. I grab my things and throw on a button-down shirt before walking out into the kitchen. A few minutes later Sarah walks down the stairs dressed in a hot magenta bikini. "You look cute!" she comments.

"Oh, thanks." Her compliment eases my worries. If Sarah thinks I look cute then everyone else likely will too.

"C'mon. Topper is waiting for us just down the road." We quietly sneak out of the back door and walk down the sidewalk. It's only a few blocks down, so the walk isn't terrible, but I'm dreading having to be in a car with my sister and her lame excuse of a boyfriend.

At least it's a nice night for a party. It's warm, but there is a cool breeze. There isn't much humidity which is nice and the moon is bright in the sky.

Eventually, Sarah and I approach Topper's Jeep and we get in. "Hey, ladies," Topper says with that irritating, fake charm. Sarah replies with a kiss. I quickly avert my gaze and pretend not to notice.

The car ride to the party is awkward, but not silent.   Sarah and Topper had their own conversation while I zoned out looking out the window. Even if they had addressed me, I wouldn't have realized it.

Once we arrive, I hop out of the backseat quickly, leaving the lovebirds making out in the Jeep. They probably didn't even notice me leave.

Just the sound of the party raging on a few yards ahead of me was enough to kickstart a migraine, but as soon as I saw the large crowd of people crammed in the backyard the pounding in my head became apparent. Fuck. How did I let Sarah to convince me to come to this? Why did she even ask me to come if all she is going to do is make out with her lame boyfriend all night?

I walk through the house, weaving through people dancing, drinking, and kissing, and search for something to drink. Unfortunately everything here is alcoholic, but I can't say that I'm surprised. Instead I just fill a red solo cup with tap water.

A while later, as I am listening in on the conversations around me but never indulging in any, I notice that everyone is looking up at the roof and cheering. I follow their gazes and spot none other than my sister and Topper staring down at their loyal subjects who are chanting their names. I'm sure they are just loving the attention. These people thrive on that kind of thing.

Topper sweeps Sarah off of her feet and although my sister is so terrified that she's clinging to her boyfriend like a koala to a tree, he steps off the edge and they plummet down into the pool. Everyone else praises them like gods.

When they resurface, Sarah as a smile plastered to her face. She might have put on a tough act, but I could tell that she had been terrified up there. Annoyed, frustrated, and still aware of the pounding in my head, I walk off into the house and find a quiet spot to wind down. A comfortable, faux-leather couch on the third floor wrap-around deck did just the trick.

I had only about a half hour of solitude until I was interrupted. A loud noise came from down the hall and around the corner stumbled Topper. He knocked over everything in his path as he made his way too me. He seemed to be under the influence of something, and probably not just beer. I know exactly the kinds of illegal substances that are used at these parties.

"Topper?" I say. "What are you doing up here? Where's Sarah?" I sit up on the couch to get a better look at him. As he approaches he mutters a response. "'Where's Sarah?' Pfft. Fuck that bitch."

"Alright then," I reply, taken aback by his abrasive words. I stand up from the couch and grab my water from a coffee table, but just as I am about to walk past him, Topper knocks the water from my hand, sending the cup onto the lawn below. "What the fuck was that for!?" I yell. Before I can even react, Topper pins me against the railing and traps me with both arms on either side. "Topper! Get off of me!"

Everything happened so fast. I felt him grab me in places that no one ever has before and suck on my neck and chest. I did everything in my power to try and pry him off of me, but it wasn't enough. Thankfully, because of how intoxicated he was, he was extremely clumsy. I kneed him in the crotch and he fell to the floor, clutching himself and groaning like a baby. That's when I made my escape.

Downstairs I ran into Sarah. "Stella," she said. "We're leaving." I could sense that she wasn't telling me something. I nodded and together we walked home. The whole way we never said a word to each other. We didn't need to.

Later that night, after everyone at Tannyhill was supposed to be asleep, someone knocked on my bedroom door. Of course I hadn't been able to get any rest. I still feel Topper's invasive touch lingering and it disgusted me. Not even a hot shower could wash it away.

"Come in," I say softly. The door opens and in walks Sarah, that odd feeling surrounding her hadn't left. She climbs into bed next to me and sighs.

"Stella, why am I such an idiot?" she asks me.

I laugh under my breath. "Where do I start?" Then I changed my tone. "Did something happen tonight?"

"It's what didn't happen," she says.

Confused, I rotate onto my side to face her. Our eyes meet and I can see how upset she is, even in the darkness. "I'm listening."

She sighs again. "I told Topper I was ready."

I feel my eyes grow wide. "Y-you did?"

"Yeah." She pauses. "Then... when it came down to it, I don't... I don't know, I—I couldn't do it."

"Did he get mad?" I ask her. "Did he stomp?" I see her smile at my remark.

"Yeah. He's a stomper," she giggles.

"Well, it has to feel right. That's what you always say," I remind her.

"I know, but it did feel right. He was so sweet the entire day." Her words create a pit in my stomach.

"Well, why didn't you, then?" I manage to choke out.

"I don't know."

She said those three words like it was that simple. She simply doesn't know why. But I do, and I know, right then and there, that I have to tell her what had happened. She has to know what a dirtbag Topper is.

"Sarah," I begin. "I have something to tell you. Earlier, at the party... Topper... he..." I pause and look up at her. "Sarah?" but no response came. She was fast asleep. I sigh and stare up at the ceiling until, eventually, sleep washes over me too.

——
Always follow your instincts and remember that it is never too late to speak up.