The Protection

Nine

Life was back to its never-ending, repetitive loop: Class, Chapel, practice, sleep. Peter was gone and so were any more flashbacks to the night I lost. I morphed back into my old self, and I didn't entirely mind. I felt invincible, untouchable, divine. Volleyball was no exception. The playoff game came and went, and I had the best game of my career, hitting the volleyball so hard I could feel the attack reverberate into my bones. I cried, cheered, and celebrated the fact we won and were going to the national tournament, but as the crowd thinned and my emotions stilled, I began to feel uneasy again. Like something was off.

As I walked through the courtyard and back to my apartment, I felt like someone was watching me. Again. My heart pounded as if I were about to run, but from what exactly I wasn't sure. I sped up my pace and hurried up to my apartment door. I turned the key and quickly opened and closed the door as I ran inside, and I couldn't help but feel like I had just escaped something dark, something evil. I breathed a little easier as I walked barefoot on the creaking hardwood floors toward my room and found a slim, black dress hanging on my door frame with a note:

Meet me at Bash's in one hour, and look HOT! I hear Ben may be there.

- Love B

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't resist the urge to sneak a peek at the price. Nordstrom. $398. Of course. I hugged the silky material a little closer. The dress even felt expensive. It was no secret Beth came from a filthy-rich Dallas socialite family, but after knowing her for almost four years, I'd never actually met her parents. They never came to any of our games, because they were "upper level CEO types" who both worked all the time and rarely had time for her, despite living less than ten minutes away. Bartholemue and Regina Rawlings certainly made up for their lack of time with copious amounts of money, refilling Beth's bank accounts and paying off her American Express Black Card every Friday.

Initially, I refused the extravagant gifts she bought me, feeling guilty touching each smooth, pretty thing, but I had come to learn she loved to treat me like family and money was of no value to her. Money was just another thing she had in never ending quantities and that she enjoyed using. Just like men. I tore the tag off and smiled as the dress fit me perfectly, it's thick braided straps gave way to a deep V at the bust and the hemline barely covered my bottom. This dress was much more scandalous than I would have picked for myself but if Ben showed up, as the note indicated, a little scandal may go a long way. I pulled my breasts up a little further and shook my hair out so it flared out around my face. It was time Ben understood exactly what he was missing...