Beneath His Touch

Chapter six

SARAH

I wasn't entirely sure if anyone would recognize me, especially *him*. I could only hope he wasn't part of this school. I'm not stupid—I know I'm mostly to blame for what happened. I got drunk because I'd been cheated on and then ended up with some random guy. But even though I know it was a mistake, how could he have done that? He knew I was wasted, and yet he still went through with it. The thought makes my blood boil. I had saved myself all these years, hoping that when I finally gave myself to someone, it would be the man I married, and now... I grind my teeth in frustration.

"House number 5," the cashier's voice snaps me back to the present. It's noon on a Saturday.

"You done yet?" Vicky's voice comes from behind me. She's holding some documents, flashing me a smile. "I've finished up with the admin stuff. You're good to go."

"Thanks," I mumble, pulling my suitcase as we head towards house number 5. My nerves are still on edge, terrified that someone might recognize me. To stay under the radar, I'd dressed in a loose, flowing dera and hid behind a pair of oversized sunglasses.

The building was tucked away at the farthest corner of the female hostels, a relatively new structure with clean lines and a modern look. I was assigned to the fifth floor. When I knocked on the door, I was greeted by two girls smoking a blunt. One leaned casually against the balcony railing, the other sprawled out on the bed next to it.

"The new roommate's here," the girl on the bed called out, glancing toward the balcony.

The other girl sauntered in, discarding her blunt in an ashtray. "Hey," she greeted me, smoke still curling from her lips. "I'm Amanda, and this is Elsa." Her voice was raspy, and when she smiled, two silver teeth gleamed from her crooked grin.

"I'm Sarah, and this is my sister," I say, offering a polite smile as I introduce us. Vicky, though clearly uncomfortable, manages to return the gesture with a forced smile of her own.

"Nice names," Amanda and Elsa say in unison, flashing grins. "You can take the bed by the door," Amanda adds, already distracted as she returns to the balcony, where she starts yelling down at a girl washing clothes on the grassy field next to our hostels.

The room itself was decent, not overly spacious but large enough to accommodate three beds, a shared table with chairs, and a small balcony. A single wardrobe stood against the wall, its doors slightly ajar, revealing a few disorganized piles of clothes. I placed my suitcase on the bed nearest the door, trying not to dwell on the chaotic energy in the room.

"Fuck you, you small-ass bitch!" Amanda suddenly screamed from the balcony, her voice cutting through the air like a knife.

"Don't mind her," Elsa commented without even looking up from the task in her lap. She was meticulously counting what looked like broken beads, her fingers moving sluggishly—no doubt high out of her mind. "She's always like that."

Before I could respond, a brown-skinned girl sauntered into the room, immediately pausing when she saw me and Vicky. "Well, who do we have here?" she said, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. Without missing a beat, she took Vicky's hand and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. "Well, my lady, may I have your name?"

Vicky, clearly taken aback, stammered, "Vicky."

"Enough of that," Amanda interrupted, walking back in from the balcony with her hands casually tucked into the pockets of her green shorts. "What were you about to say?"

"Right," the girl said, stepping back with a laugh. "I heard Brian made a bet about some girl, and she ended up in the locker room while he was banging Cynthia." Her laugh was harsh, echoing off the walls, and immediately caught the attention of the others.