Mitch POV
"I c-can't," I whispered to Scott as he gripped my hand, listening intently as I relived my last night with Trevor as my boyfriend.
"It's okay," he whispered. "You don't have to keep going if you don't want to."
I nodded, "I know. It's just, that was the night he...he..." I couldn't get the words to come out.
"The night he raped you," Scott finished quietly.
Scott's eyes held the perfect mixture of anger and concern.
"I can't believe I never noticed any of this," he said, his voice thick with guilt. "I mean, I was right there."
"It's not your fault," I comforted. "Nobody knew."
My words didn't seem to be able to ease his guilt at all. I decided to continue the story, skipping ahead to the next morning.
I glanced over at Trevor, who finally seemed to truly be asleep. I slipped out of his bed and walked to my car, my whole body numb. I could barely breathe. I was scared he would wake up and I'd have to face him, which is something I really didn't want to do. I got in my car and somehow drove home, although looking back I'm unsure of how I was able to do so in my state.
Scott was already up when I walked into the apartment. He smiled at me as I walked into the living room, and I tried my best to smile back at him. I'm sure my smile looked nowhere near convincing, but Scott didn't seem to notice.
"Hey," his voice rang. "Busy night?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow questioningly.
I nodded, not trusting that my voice would be able to function.
"Oooh," he sang. "Lucky Mitch, hooking up with a hot guy like Trevor."
"Actually, Trevor and I broke up," I blurted out. "We were up all night talking, and it just wasn't working anymore."
Scott's smile disappeared. "Oh, Mitch, I'm so sorry," he comforted, opening his arms for me to come sit with him.
"I don't really feel like talking about it," I said, shrugging nonchalantly.
"O-okay," he said, his face slightly confused as he watched me retreat to my bedroom.
Once I was in there, I locked the door and then I just cried. I cried until my body didn't have enough tears left to support more crying.
It wasn't until a few hours later that I heard a soft knock at my door.
"Mitch?" Scott's voice floated through. "Can I come in? I brought food."
I got up and unlocked the door so that he could enter. I plopped down on my bed and Scott did too, a bag from Chipotle in his hand.
