a little collection

43

Deleted Chapter from An Open Window

I still don't understand the point of the party.

The smoke in the air is thick, so much that I'll probably get a contact high if I stay in the room for too long. The music is blaring, but that's the least of my worries. People are grinding on each other, downing beer after beer. It's been an hour, I've lost my friends in this sea of people, and I'm 100% ready to leave when a deep voice whispers into my ear, "Well, hello there."

I turn around, and it's none other than Tyler Sanders, and I'm immediately put off by the way he looks at me.

"Um, hi." I say, seriously uncomfortable.

"I haven't seen your pretty face around here before, this your first party?" He asks, and I can tell that he's slightly drunk, but not enough to pass this off as a drunken encounter. He's still mostly sober, and he knows what he's doing.

"No, I've been to parties before, this is just my first one in a while." I respond, trying to move away, but he only moves closer.

"Why don't we go somewhere where we can...talk more?" I don't even get a choice, he's already dragging me outside, where there is, for once (and at the worst time ever), no one there.

He sits on a swinging bench, and he pats the space next to him. I sit as far as I can away from him, the wood cool against my bare thighs from my shorts, but, to my dismay, he moves so close that our thighs touch.

God, where are my friends when I need them?! I think to myself.

"So, how many drinks have you had?" He asks, leaning in a bit.

"This is my only one." I say, wishing I can dash away, but I know that things would get rough if I did. I casually place my hand against my pocket, gripping my phone in case I need to call someone from the house.

"Really? This is my second one!" He's trying so hard to relate.

"Oh, cool." I'm trying so hard to make him bored of me and go away.

"You know, parties aren't really my thing, either." Bull. Shit. I hear stories where he's gotten so drunk that he does stupid shit, like fling off his shirt and pouring a whole keg of beer over his head.

"Yeah." I lean away from him, but somehow that invites him to come closer. I freeze when I feel his hand "accidentally" go onto my upper thigh.

"But with a girl like you here, it makes it a little better." He says, climbing his hand up. I hear all the alarms going off in my head, and I need to get out. Now.

"Look, I have to go find my-" I start to stand, and he grips my wrist. Hard.

"What's the rush, Sally? I thought we were having a good time." He purrs into my ear, pulling me back down. I open my phone, blindly hitting a contact. I have no idea who I'm calling, but I know it's a friend.

Because of the force of his pull, it forced my legs to open. Goddamn it.

"Damn, Sally, you've got some nice stems." He reaches his hand again, and I'm frozen. I don't want to risk getting hurt, but I don't want him to do this to me. I try to close my legs tight, begging for him to stop. But he only forces them back open.

"Tyler, please. Stop it!" I say, and I feel my eyes tearing up.

"It's okay, Sally." He says, and he starts to unbutton my shorts, and I try pushing him away. But he only tries harder, shoving them far enough down to where he can get access.

Who did I call? Why aren't they hearing this? How are they not realizing that I'm in trouble? Did they even pick up?

"Tyler....please." I beg, but his fingers are already at my underwear, and I'm about to give up. He's not gonna stop and I can't stop him.