I got fingered
Amelia Forbes
I woke up, with a start, to the light filtering into my room through the half open curtain, a throbbing head and a parched throat.
Squinting against the mild glare of the sun, I propped myself up on the bed and pushed my hair out of my face, my sore eyes taking in the contents of the room.
“What happened?” I murmured to myself, little bits of the party from last night coming back to me. “How did I get back?”
I tried to recall how I returned home but nothing came to mind. The last I remembered was drinking to the dare they’d given me, which I declined doing.
Figuring I must’ve gotten really drunk and Jason brought me back to my house, I sighed and swung my legs down from the bed.
I needed an aspirin. Two aspirin. Fast. But first, some water, and then checking in on grandma. Knowing her, she would be up by now.
Speaking of the time, what was the time actually? I twisted my body to look at the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand at the other side of the bed.
It read 9:30am. My alarm clock was thirty minutes, so the time was actually ten o’clock.
“What?!” I exclaimed, shooting up from the bed, which was a bad, very bad move.
The room spun, my wobbly feet gave way and I crumpled to the ground in a heap, suddenly feeling very nauseous. The onslaught of vomit was not too far behind.
Clasping a hand to my mouth I struggled to my feet with the last strength in me, ignoring the headache and the dizziness. The last thing I wanted was to throw up in my room. That’d make a huge mess because the floor was rugged.
I yanked open the door and ran down the stairs, two at a time, straight to the bathroom, passing Nana-in the kitchen-on the way. Getting to the bathroom, I kicked the door open and stumbled to the sink. Then I threw up, retching, coughing and gagging until my stomach felt empty.
Feeling very drained, tired and hungry, I washed my mouth and leaned back from the sink to look at my reflection. My face bore a ghostly look.
“Note to self,” I muttered. “Do not ever, ever drink again.”
Since I was already in the bathroom, I brushed my teeth right away, rinsed my face and dried it before heading out to meet Nana in the kitchen.
“Hey, Nana,” I said, walking up to her and hugging her from behind.
We exchanged greetings in sign language before I went over and took my usual spot at the far end of the table.
Just a little more time, she gestured with her hands. I know you must be very hungry.
It’s fine. I shrugged with a smile.
Five minutes later, grandma and I were seated for a breakfast of pancakes and maple syrup, bacon and eggs, cornbread and glasses of orange juice. For once, I was actually grateful for grandma’s overcooking.
I was halfway through the pancakes when grandma stopped eating to talk with me.
A boy brought you back yesterday. She told me. By 12 in the morning.
12? My eyes bulged.
Yeah, 12. You were passed out.
I’m really sorry, grandma. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
It’s fine, she shrugged. It was a different boy though. I saw the one who picked you up. It wasn’t him. The one that brought you back had dark hair, blue eyes.
What? I frowned. But . . .
It was in that moment that all the memories from the party came flooding back to me in torrential flashes, like the repeated clicking of a camera. The flame haired guy that was trying to woo me. Jason inviting me to the games, the dares and the drinking.
Everything up until then was clear before slowly things began to get hazy. Thin. I’d felt weird after taking my last shot, so I went to the bathroom and . . . Jason came in shortly after.
“We kissed,” I gasped, a hand flying up to touch my lips. “Jason and I . . . kissed.”
But we didn’t do just that. Jason touched me. My neck. My breasts.
Remembering the feel of his hands as they caressed my breasts, I dropped the pancake in my hand, my eyes going wide in horror.
And then I remembered the last bit, a memory almost completely buried away but somehow rearing its disappointing head.
Jason had fingered me.
In shock and horror, I stood up from my seat, my heart racing.
“What have I done?” I whispered.
Mel? What’s wrong? Grandma stared at me.
For her sake, I tried to compose myself. Act like nothing had happened.
With a small smile, I sat down once again.
I just remembered who brought me back, that’s all. I lied.
Ok. Who?
His name is Adrian.
After breakfast, I took two aspirin and then stepped into the bathroom. Wondering how I’ll face Jason in school now, I sank to my butt under the hot shower.
How could I have been so loose? To let Jason kiss me. Touch me. I was better than that. Influence of alcohol or no influence, I could have done better, because I wasn’t that way. I was always cautious about these things. And I was very picky.
For almost twenty minutes, I remained in the bathroom, under the hot shower until my skin became too tender and pink, then, still unable to believe I’d let myself be used for a brief, short lived moment of pleasure, I dried my body and stepped out of the bathroom.
Times like these were when I needed someone I could actually talk with the most. Someone who understood the type of person I was and could relate with me on personal levels. Of course, Nana was there, but she couldn’t hear a thing. And, I love her, but I was just not in the mood for sign language.
I dressed up in one of dad’s old tees-we still had some of my parents belongings down in the basement. After their death when I was fourteen, I just couldn’t accept they were . . . gone. So I took some of their stuff and placed them in my room, just so I could feel their presence whenever I needed it the most. Like now.
Clutching mom’s stress ball tighter, I called Benson. Twice. Only on the third ring did he pick. Good for him. I was just about to call till night fell.
“Hey, Mel, sorry I wasn’t able to pick up on time,” he said as soon as he answered the call. “I was out playing basketball with my neighbors and Jackie, who was sitting right beside the phone, couldn’t be bothered about your call until the third time.”
Jackie was his younger sister who was a freshman at Wayne’s County High.
“It’s fine,” I muttered.
“So, what’s up?”
“Are you busy right now?”
“Uh,” he drawled. “We’re on a break here so technically no.”
“Can you come over?” I asked.
“Right now?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Okay, sure. They have more players anyway, and besides, it’s been a while since I came by, or you came by.”
“School work, I guess,” I shrugged.
“Nope. Katie. She’s so clingy,” he sighed. “But I love her anyway. I’m on my way!”
Ten minutes later, Benson was in my room, sitting at the edge of the bed opposite me, his legs crossed on top of mine and mine on top of his, like old times.
“So, are we just gonna sit doing a staring competition or you got something fun we can do?” He crossed his arms, hazel eyes trained on me. “Or something fun you’d like to tell me.” He wiggled his eyebrows then, smiling.
“I’ve seen you with Adrian lately,” he added. “Anything going on between you and the jock?”
“He’s a nice guy you know,” I said.
“Oh, so you like him then?” Benson’s eyebrows shot up. “Just like every other girl in school. You know, Katie told me she once had a crush on him. Back in sophomore year.”
“I don’t,” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t like Adrian, Ben. I only do as a friend. But there’s something I’d like to tell you.”
“Ouu, is it a secret?” Benson straightened up.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “Kinda.”
“Okay,” he said, assuming a more interested position. “What is it?”
“First of all, you have to promise not to judge me.” I fixed my gaze on him.
“Have I ever really?” He shrugged.
I sighed. “No, but, you might after I’m done-”
“Amelia.” He called my name in full. “I won’t.”
Looking down at my hands, I sighed again. “You know I went to Jason’s party last night?”
“No,” Benson said. “I wasn’t aware. How come you didn’t tell me?”
“Well, I guess it’s because all you think about is Katie.” I looked up at him.
The cool expression on his face changed immediately.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’m kind of in a foul mood.”
“No, it’s fine,” he said, “you’re right. Lately, I’ve been neglecting you, and I’m sorry.”
I offered him a small smile. “We can always call a truce.”
“Truce?” He stretched out his hand to me.
“Truce.” I took his hand and shook it.
“So, you went to Jason’s party, and?” He asked, dropping my hand.
Remembering what had happened, my mood became sore once again.
“You promise not to tell anyone?” I asked, lowering my gaze to the throw pillow cradled on my laps.
“Amelia,” he groaned. “Don’t you trust me anymore? I promise.”
“Okay, okay,” I began with a sigh, looking up at him. “So, Jason apologized, that you know. Then he invited me to his party which I agreed to, for some reason. I guess because he was being so nice and polite, and I wanted him to remain that way towards me.”
“What if it’s an act though?” Benson broke in. “You do know there’s an eighty percent chance that it’s just an act. That he might have an ulterior motive.”
“I know. And I thought about it. Benson, I tested him. I don’t think it’s an act. I think he’s for real.”
He shrugged. “If you say so. But I think once a bully, always a bully. If you ask me, I’d say the change was too sudden and personally I’d be skeptical, but then again, what do I know?”
Silently, I admitted he was right. I was too quick to believe Jason. Too quick to agree to attend his party. To let him touch me. As if that was all I ever craved for.
“So, I went to his party,” I continued, pushing my thoughts behind me. “Yesterday. He was the one who picked me up. Took me to his house. And there was this game. He wanted me to join. Play with his friends.”
“Don’t tell me you agreed.” Benson stared at me.
“I did,” I muttered.
“Oh.” He slapped a hand to his forehead. “You have to be shitting me, Mel. Okay, even if you did, don’t tell me Kimberly was there.”
“She was,” I told him.
“You have queened yourself a royal screw-up,” he stated. “A big, messy one.”
“What does that even mean?” I frowned. “And besides, it was a truth or game-”
“Oh, boy. Even worse.”
“-which I took no part in.”
“But, lemme guess, you drank, since you didn’t want to do your dares.”
“Yeah, I did,” I affirmed. “I know I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t want to seem . . . chicken. I’m almost eighteen, Benson. Sooner or later I’ll have to do these things. I’ll have to drink anyway.”
“I understand,” he nodded. “Trust me, I do. Do you know I’ve never gone down on Katie? I mean, she wants me to, and sooner or later I’ll have to, but for now, I don’t think I’m ready yet. I don’t think I’ll get it right.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, with a confused look, “not that I asked about you and Katie’s sexual life, but thanks for understanding.”
“So, I drank,” I went on. “And I got drunk, because they dared me so much. I tried to use up all my truths, but Kimberly kept insisting I had to use up my dares first.”
“So, what happened?” He asked, after I paused and said nothing.
“I got fingered by Jason,” I rapped out, eager to get straight to the point.All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.
“I’m sorry, what?” Benson blinked. “What did you just say?”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen. I was drunk, he came into the bathroom and . . . we kissed and one thing led to another and-”
“You mean to tell me, right now, that you kissed Jason Davenport, that you both exchanged saliva, and then afterwards, he fingerfucked you?”
“I was drunk,” I defended. “You know normally I would never do that. Hell, I couldn’t even let Henry peck me in junior prom last year, and now I let Jason fuck me? Do you think I’ll do that in my right senses?”
For minutes, Benson sat silently, his hazel eyes holding me in surprise before, with a small sigh, he looked away.
“So, what do you wanna do now?” He asked, looking back at me.
He’d kept his promise. He didn’t judge me. Or blame me. And that was why he’ll always be a good confidant.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, feeling embarrassed already.
“Are you both like a thing now?” He asked.
“No,” I shook my head. “We aren’t.”
“Was he drunk too?”
“I guess?”
“Well, you just have to hope he doesn’t go blabbing it to his friends, because if Leila gets news on this, oh man, I don’t even wanna think about it.”
Biting my lower lip, I looked away. That was my biggest problem. That Jason would tell.