Miss Americana

Nine

I was very much in my "fuck it, we ball" phase.

Wanna sneak out and have a wine night? I'm in.

Wanna get fro-yo? Of course.

Want to do literally anything that distracts me from the chaos around me? Yes!

So, it wasn't a shocker that I found myself at a huge party with Kyler, his friend, and his friend's girlfriend. I was drunk, the kind of drunk where everything felt like a blur of lights and laughter. 

I was playing beer pong with the same reckless abandon that I was drinking anything someone handed me. It didn't matter what it was—beer, shots, some neon-colored concoction that definitely shouldn't have tasted that good—if it was offered, I drank it. The world around me started to blur, everything felt hazy, and I even tried my luck at a few games of flip cup. Somewhere between my third and fourth game, I lost track of how many drinks I'd had.

The music thumped through the walls, and the room spun just enough to make everything feel like a wild, distorted dream. I turned to Kyler, who was leaning casually against the table, his eyes fixed on me. 

"This is so fun! Isn't it?" I giggled, the alcohol making me feel lighter and freer than I had in weeks.

Kyler put his arm around my waist, pulling me close. "Yeah, baby. You're killing it out there," he said, his voice low and smooth, but I was too buzzed to pick up on anything but the fact that he was here, with me, and he thought I was doing great.

I turned to face him fully, rising up on my tiptoes to put my arms around his neck. "I am?" I asked.

Kyler grinned, his eyes gleaming. "Yeah, T," he murmured before leaning down and pressing his lips against mine.

His kiss was intense, fueled by the alcohol going through both of our systems. His hands roamed up my back, pulling me closer as our lips moved together. The party, the noise, the people—it all faded into the background as I got lost in the moment. My head was spinning, not just from the alcohol, but from the way he was kissing me, making me feel wanted and important.

At some point, we stumbled down a hallway and ended up in a random bathroom. The space was tiny with the smell of stale beer and the remnants of who knows what lingered in the air, but I barely noticed. Kyler was pulling me close again, his hands on my waist, his lips finding mine once more. 

His hands started to move lower and go under my dress, his grip tightening, and I suddenly felt a jolt of discomfort. The alcohol-induced haze began to lift just enough for a wave of unease to crash over me. I pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss.

"Kyler, I can't," I whispered, my voice shaky as I gently pushed him away.

He looked at me with confusion, his brow furrowing as if he couldn't understand what had changed. "What? Why not?" he asked, his voice edged with frustration.

Without warning, Kyler's grip on my arm tightened as he shoved me against the wall. My back hit the cold tiles with a thud, and I gasped in shock. The room spun slightly as I tried to comprehend what was happening. "You're not ready? Tatum, we've been together before. What's the big deal?" His face was inches from mine, his eyes dark with a mix of frustration and something that terrified me.

"Kyler, stop! You're hurting me!" I tried to push him away, but his strength overpowered mine. Panic surged through me as I realized just how vulnerable I was.

"You're the one leading me on, and now you're acting like this?" His voice was low and menacing, sending chills down my spine.

"Kyler, let me go," I demanded, my voice shaking. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, the fear and helplessness overwhelming me.