Rory's Christmas

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Drew shifted slightly behind her, mumbling something incoherent under his breath. A few seconds later he settled down. She felt his finger touch the small of her back—so softly she had to remind herself to keep breathing or he’d realize she was awake—and trail upwards to softly stroke the skin of her neck. It felt unbelievably good.

Rory was grateful when he moved away with a sigh. Just his mere touch was reminding her of what they’d done last night, what she’d done last night, and she didn’t want to remember any of that. It was a night she wanted to permanently erase from her memory.

There was a big blank where her memories should be of the hours between when she had run out of Matthew’s bedroom after that kiss with Drew, and protesting when Drew carried her back to bed. It wasn’t hard to guess what had happened, though; Rory had had blackouts before, and she always ended up feeling like this the next morning: confused, humiliated, and desperately wanting to run away.

She opened her eyes a slit, testing the waters. The curtain was only half-drawn, and so there was a bright pool of white light on the ground just in front of her side of the bed. This room was evidently Matthew’s sister’s old territory: the walls were splattered with posters of boy bands and movie stars, and through the half-open closet door Rory could see a few old dresses still hanging in there. One of them, she was sure, was the same one that Janet owned. Just thinking about her sister made her sad again. She needed to get back, to make sure Jan was open. She just needed to.

Drew’s breathing had gone back to normal, and was getting a bit deeper by the second. He would be dead asleep soon, she knew; and then she could make her move.

Ten minutes or so later, that chance came.

When she slipped out of bed this time she was quieter than a mouse. She didn’t risk dressing in here, and instead gathered her clothes in her arms and tiptoed out of the room—luckily there was nobody in the hallway to see her in only a large t-shirt—to the bathroom that was just a bit further down. Inside, she changed as quickly as she could, brushed through her hair with the comb on the sink and loosely plaited it into a long braid. She splashed some water on her face to wake herself, and rinsed her mouth out as thoroughly as was possible. She had to work fast, though; she knew she didn’t have much time. The rest of the house would be getting up soon.

The living room was eerily silent as she entered, stepping lightly so that she made no sound. When she got to the kitchen, though, there was a surprise waiting.

On the counter was an envelope marked clearly with her name. She opened it curiously and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

Inside was $150 in cash, a computer-printed map that gave her directions to a train station (train station? How many places had train stations these days?!) and told her exactly how many stops to pass before she should get off and hire a taxi, and a small note.

Rosie (or watever ur name is),

I’m giving u this becaus i kno what your going through. Dad died last yr and its hard on all my sisters and me. I shud of been nicer to u sorry. Me and drew didnt do anything tho, he payed me 150 bucks 2 act like we were having sex or somethin he said he want to make u gellus. Im giving u the money back becaus i dont want u to hate me and i dont want to b a whore.

Gl getting home.

D.

It took Rory a few minutes to realize that it was D who had written this letter with all of its bad grammar and spelling, and given her everything she needed to get home.