safe haven ⇢ d. strome

viii. new years part two

As Sam was pulling me towards some stairs that lead to the basement, my eyes rested on Jack. Much to my luck, he met my gaze and noticed something was off; likely my facial expression or the way that I was stumbling.

My vision was going and I tried to think of when someone would have had the chance to put something in my drink. I didn't say anything, but the last thing I saw before heading to the basement - which reeked of weed - was Jack shoving through people.

"Hey!" Jack shouted as I was walking down the last step. He rushed down after me and grabbed my free hand. I felt like the rope in a tug of war game, but I knew full well that Sam could out-muscle Jack any day.

Sam turned around and furrowed his brow, an evil smile forming on his face that I could see even though everything was blurring. "What the fuck are you gonna do about it, Wilson?"

Suddenly there were three other guys who I recognized as football players standing beside Sam, but Jack luckily didn't back down. He stood with his hand in mine, very bravely staring each guy in the face. "It'd be pretty sad if I had to call your mommy home now wouldn't it?" he taunted.

Something changed in Sam's face; fear, maybe; whatever it was, Jack took advantage of the distraction and yanked my hand away from Sam's grip with his free one. Once the cold night's air hit my exposed skin - there was a lot of it - I shivered. Jack shut the door behind us and sat me down on a piece of patio furniture

I was speechless, and not just from the fact that nothing was really working for me physically right now. I couldn't believe I had actually taken pity on an asshole like Sam Garlent, even for a brief moment. The series of events played back through my mind, and when I remembered the look on Jack's face when he realized what was going on, I sank into his shoulder.

"Thank you, Jack," I whispered quietly because it was all I could muster up, and he enveloped me in a gentle hug.

"I'd want someone to do the same for Anna if I lived four and a half hours away," he said, his eyes closing. He rubbed my shoulder soothingly. "Listen, do you need a lift home? I can't imagine you want to spend any more time here."

I blinked twice but shook my head before sitting up straight, which was unsuccessful. I slunk back down against the side of couch and groaned.

"Get Dylan," I groaned.

He tensed up a bit at the sound of Dylan's name.  "Yeah, I will. Just don't trust those guys too much."

"Why not?" I said, completely caught off guard and I perked up a bit because I was pissed. If you asked me, Jack was totally speaking out of turn. He and I weren't that close, and he was talking about my best friends.

"Well, Em," he began confidently, "Where were they five minutes ago?"

With that, Jack stood up and gave my shoulder a squeeze before heading back inside to get Dylan. More than anything, I found myself wishing for someone to come and hold me and make me feel safe because I sure as hell didn't, and I thought about Ben. He was on his way home now, and he had no idea what'd just happened. I wondered if I'd ever tell him, since nothing actually happened, and he didn't need anything to worry about.

The door opened and I jumped a little, considering it could have been Sam or his fellow football douchebags coming out for a second try, but I was relieved to see a familiar brown mop of hair step outside. He let the door close behind him and squinted down at me. "Hey, Jack Wilson told me you were out here. I just went to get a drink and then you were gone."

What the fuck? He went out to get a drink and that's how I almost got raped? I thought I could trust them. Clearly I was wrong.

Dylan stepped towards me and slid into the place that Jack had just been sitting. He handed me some water which I took graciously and tried to clear my system of whatever was in me. I hadn't had that much of the drink and I hoped it wouldn't completely ruin me.