You headed out the doors of Beacon Hills High School at 6:30 after staying behind to help set up for the band concert. Like normal, you planned to cut across the lacrosse field. Normally the field was empty, but today there was a handsome boy with dark hair sitting on the bleachers.
"Excuse me," he said as you walked by. "I'm from Devenford Prep. Do you know how I get to concert?"
"You just go through the front doors and walk down the hall," you told him.
"Thanks," he said, and you turned to walk away, but he grabbed you by the arm. "Would you like to get a drink? I have a car."
"Oh," you said awkwardly. "I actually really have to get home."
"Oh, that's fine," he let go of you. But as you started to walk away, he grabbed you and roughly threw you against the bleachers. "Actually, it's not fine."
Your face hit the bottom bleacher, and you could feel the burning cut start to bleed. Pushing yourself off the ground, you tried to run, but he pushed you back down onto your stomach. He grabbed your shoulders and flipped you onto your back. Your eyes widened in fear, and your breath picked up.
"Don't be scared," he said, and unzipped your jacket.
You froze as he started to undress you, staring at his face in horror.
He placed his hand on you, and you screamed for help. He took his hand up and slapped it over your mouth. "Don't make a sound," he said.
He kneeled down and put his knees on either side of you, and then lunged his head down to your neck. You closed your eyes, and didn't notice another boy coming onto the field. The tall boy yanked the Devenford Prep boy off of you, and threw him against the side of the bleachers, knocking him out.
"Are you okay?" The tall boy asked, reaching down and pulling you to your feet. "I heard you scream."
"I'm fine," you said shakily, folding your arms. "He tried to-"
"I know."
You looked up at him. He was tall, obviously, with light brown hair, bright eyes, and a beautiful face.
"I'm [Y/N]," you said.
"Isaac," he blinked. "I think I should call the police."
You nodded, and he whipped out his phone to report your attacker.
"Do you want me to wait with you?" Isaac asked after he called the police.
"Yeah, that's really nice of you."
You and Isaac climbed up the bleachers and sat on the very top.
"You're bleeding," Isaac touched your face.
"I'll be alright," you said.
Isaac gave you a sad look. "Are you sure?"
"Um," tears threatened to pour from your eyes. "I really don't know."
"Hey," Isaac took your hand in his. "I'll be here for you."
"Thanks," you smiled tearfully, and rested your head on his shoulder.
Isaac moved his arm around your waist, and you closed your eyes, listening to the sound of police sirens echoing in the distance.
