Blank Slate Kate

Chapter 1

My mouth tastes awful, like a thousand people have used it as an ashtray and garbage can. As I try to work up enough spit to swallow, my head begins to pound and my stomach churns. The flu's been going around my high school and I must have caught it. I want to yell for Mom but my throat's too dry, so I force my sleep-sticky eyes open so I can get out of bed.

Horror fills me, shocking the sick feelings away.

I'm not in my bed. I'm in a strange bed facing a sleeping guy. A guy I don't know. An old guy.

I can't breathe. Did I lose my virginity to him last night? I was going to wait until I got married. What happened? How did I end up here?

I scrabble backward and half-fall out of the bed, but before I can run away dizziness sweeps me and I throw up on the worn rug between my feet.

The guy blinks and sits up. "Kate? You okay?"

I stare at him. Kate? It doesn't feel right. I'm...

I don't know. I'm not getting Kate back as my name. I'm not getting anything else back either. My mind is blank.

I don't know who I am.

I'm in a strange man's bedroom, with no idea who I am.

The shock twists my stomach beyond what I can stand, and as I bend over to puke again I realize, as if everything else weren't bad enough, that I'm naked. I don't worry about anything but barfing for the next few unpleasant seconds, but when I'm done I wrap my arms around my body to hide myself and take a quick peek at the guy.

He's out of bed now, fortunately wearing boxer shorts. I do not want my first sight of a guy's thing to be like this. Still, he's mostly naked, so I look away again as he says, "You're not okay. Geez, you must have drunk even more than I thought. I'll get you a glass of water."

He doesn't seem mad that I threw up on his floor, and I'd love some water, but I can't get past what he said. I was drinking? "I'm seventeen," I snap at him. "I don't drink."

His mouth falls open. "You're..."

We had sex. His horror tells me so. I can't believe I did it. I did it and I don't even remember it. "Yeah. You had sex with a minor. And if I was drinking, you made me do it. You're a rapist. And a..." I can't think of a word for 'making people drink' so I say, "You're a bad man."

"Kate, I didn't--"

"I'm not Kate!" My shriek hurts my own ears and reawakens my headache, and it makes him stumble back a few steps. "I don't know who I am but I'm not Kate. Stop calling me that!"

"You're... you don't..." He trails off and rubs a hand over his stubbled chin.

I had sex, drunk sex, sex I don't remember, with an actual man, one old enough to need a daily shave. My stomach flips over again and I give a nasty burp but don't throw up. One good thing today, at least.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Then his eyes flicker down my body.

"Hey!" I grab a pillow and hold it to cover myself.

He blushes. "I... sorry. Look, I'm just totally confused." Another long deep breath, then he says, "Okay. Your name is not Kate. You're seventeen, and you don't drink. Have I got it right?"

I'm confused too. I'm a good girl. My mother always says I'm perfect. How did I end up here? "Yeah. That's right."

He rubs his chin again. "Look. I think we need to talk, okay? But we should both get dressed."

He's pretty cute, if you like older men, so it would be easier to talk to him if I couldn't see his naked chest and legs and the bulge of his-- "Yeah," I say, quickly pulling my eyes back to his face. "Yeah, we should."