The Phantom of Scranton Hill

24

He extended his hand toward her, asking to dance as he bowed like the gentleman he wasn't. Hesitantly, Justine took it, soon hitting the thick stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke like a brick wall. It was all over him, his clothes, his hair. He pulled her close, his hands dropping lower than she was comfortable with. Justine constantly raised them up to her mid back, but he didn't hesitate to lower them again.

Justine sighed in disappointment. She should have been having the time of her life with the hottest, most popular guy at school. But she wasn't. She'd much rather be sitting at home, making forts and watching movies with her best friend and she knew it. She'd much rather be alongside the boy she was really in love with.

Love.

He loved death. She loved life. He lived for her. She died for him. They loved each other so much, they would have sacrificed everything, friends and family, able to deny everything, give everything to love each other, that was their gold, but she loved life and he loved death. So different and yet closer than anything, understanding to protect a crazy love, one dreamed only of dying and flying away, the other of a life with him, far from atrocities.

She was in love with him. And he was far away. Justine searched the building for a clock. The short hand just past the five and the longer one barely at the eight. He had twenty minutes left, and she wasn't anywhere near him. Her breath hitched in her throat. How could she do this to him? To herself? At that moment, she didn't care what his damn purpose was. It was her whether he liked it or not. But she didn't realize that she had zoned out until she heard the heavy door close behind her.

Chase pushed her up against the wall and attacked her lips, holding her hands down by her sides. His knees pressed into her thighs, ceasing any possible movement, but still, she resisted. His lips felt cold and rough, forced, as they latched onto her cheek, neck, shoulder. He continued to move lower and lower against Justine's will.

"Chase?" she exclaimed in the form of a question, but her voice couldn't raise any higher than a simple coarse whisper. "What the hell are you doing?" She squirmed under his grip, trying anything to gain an advantage, but no matter how hard she wormed, the upper hand was far from her grasp.

"Damn it, Justine! Stay still. It'll be over soon. Stop moving," he ordered harshly, gripping onto her upper arms tighter than before, surely leaving bruises with each touch.

Unwelcomed hands roamed in uncharted territory, his cruel, raw fingers began fiddling with the elastic band on the back of her dress, stupidly letting go of her arms. She placed both of her hands on either side of his head and brought hers down, butting him on the head. She watched pleasantly as his brain lost control of his body, sending Chase crashing to the cool cement.

She felt dirty, icky, violated. She lost her first kiss forcefully; to that hunk of garbage. And the worst part was that he probably wouldn't even remember this by tomorrow, but she would. She was shaking, trembling with fear, the scent of alcohol still infiltrating her nostrils.

She returned inside, scanning the crowd until she locked eyes with Price toward the back of the gymnasium, slow dancing with Charlotte passed out on his shoulder. Not wanting to bother them, she sped-walked to the nearest bus stop, her heels clicking and clacking with each step. Luckily, it was only as far as the front of the school.

The bus was empty, dead silent, as were the streets. All windows were rolled down and bitter air flowed through her hair and pulled at her skin. As she sat in the chill winds of the early night, Dax's words reappeared, bouncing off the walls of her skull.

Justine knit her eyebrows in both confusion and realization. Had he known that Chase would try something?

The bus stopped and she rose from her seat and exited. It had dropped her off at the park. That park.