Look Past the Surface

Chapter 10

My face stung and I ached like I was saddle sore. I had enough dignity left to pull on my clothes, but my shirt was ripped and I saw the zipper of my shorts was undone. Tears slipped down my cheeks and my eyes gazed unseeingly up at the stars.

My hands couldn't stop shaking and neither could my legs, so I curled up in a futile attempt to cease my quaking.

I couldn't believe it. It never actually happened; you hear about it on the news, but it never actually happens.

And even though we were 100 yards from a packed stadium, nobody came to help. A sob racked my body and I curled up tighter.

I felt so dirty. So nasty. And, for the first time in a week, I wanted a knife. For the first time ever, I wanted to feel the pain. I wanted the hurt from being raped to be moved to my wrists.

I heard laughing and the metallic creaking that hinted that people were coming through the field.

I prayed that I did not know them.

I prayed that they would think that I was just a homeless person.

I prayed they would not see the bruise on my cheek from where Nelson hit me once he finished.

I averted my gaze from the sky to my wrist. I saw the butterfly and the name written below it. Cole.

Cole...

"Regan?" Cole's voice rang out and I heard footsteps coming towards me.

Oh, no.

"What happened? He asked, and he gently turned me over gently so that I was facing him. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see his reaction.

I heard him inhale sharply.

"Co-ole." a girl's voice said. "Are we going to your place or what?"

"Not now Macy," he said, dismissively, "I'll text you tomorrow."

"'Kay."

Cole waited until she left, and when he spoke again I heard the fury and worry in his voice. In a way, it was a comforting sound.

"Regan, please tell me that you just ran into something and decided to lie down..." he said, and I knew that he wasn't making a joke. He wanted that to be it.

I opened my eyes and Cole helped me up. That's when he saw my undone pants, my ripped shirt and the stained ground with red and white flecks dotting the dirt.

"Who did this to you?" Cole whispered, and he extended his hand as if to rest it on my arm and I flinched back. Hurt spread across his face and I felt terrible, but I wasn't ready to be touched. Not yet. "Regan..."

I couldn't tell him. He was friends with Nelson; teammates with him. It would...

"Nelson." I squeaked before I could stop myself.

Cole seemed to register everything quickly, for his face contorted into an expression on such fury that it was scary, but at the same time very attractive.

(Regan, focus)

He whirled around and started to stomp back to the field. I stood there like an idiot. Finally it clicked; I understood what he was doing. I groaned and ran after him.

A little bit

(a lot bit)

Of me couldn't help but be happy. Cole was going to beat up a kid that I hated. But still, I hated making a big deal out of stuff. Even if it really was a big deal.

I broke though the crowd just in time to see Cole confronting Nelson. In my mind, I saw them as the same size. However, once they were together, I saw how much taller Nelson was. I gulped.