Pulled (18 page)

“
It’s old fashioned, I know,” she says.

“
No, no it’s not that. I think waiting until marriage is admirable. It’s just…I’ve never needed to make a decision to wait. With this face, I already know I’ll end up alone.” The words are automatic, and come out before I can stop them.

Naya puts her tea down so fast that some of it sloshes over the edge. She squeezes my hand, hard. “You will
not
end up alone.” My eyes tear up and she places her hands gently on each side of my face. I flinch because she's touching my scar. Her touch doesn't hurt, but I know how my scar feels and I'm embarrassed. But instead of moving her hands away from it, she leans in closer until she’s brushing her mouth against it. Her soft lips start to kiss the line of my scar and I can't help it; I start to cry.

No one has ever touched my scar, not even my parents, and here is this girl, kissing it. Her lips trace along my jaw then down to my chin. My heart is racing in my chest, begging to feel her lips against mine. I don’t have to wait long, because as soon as I wish it, they are there, caressing mine.

Her kiss is so soft and warm, but at the same time, it lights a fire within me. Hunger burns in my limbs as I return her kiss. Her hands dig into my hair, pulling me closer to her. I moan her name in ecstasy.

Without warning, she straddles my lap. Her legs wrap tight around my back. My hands caress her arms and slide up to her neck. When I feel her breasts press against my chest, I have to warn myself to be careful with her, to go slowly. But she’s pushing her body against mine with such fever that holding back is becoming more unlikely by the second. Her tongue slips into my mouth and the taste of her sends me off the deep end. I've got to stop this
, now
.

Yanking myself free of her, I jump off the couch and try to catch my breath.

“
I’m sorry,” she whispers.

I see the worry in her eyes.

“
No, please,
please
don’t be sorry. I was just …” My face is blazing with embarrassment. “I don’t trust myself to stop,” I finally say.

A seductive grin spreads across her face as she crawls off the couch, comes over to me and runs her hands up my chest.

“
Who asked you to stop?” she purrs, but there is something off about her eyes, how they seem to have glazed over. And that causes alarm bells to go off.

Naya

My fingers run up the contours of his chest, without my telling them to. In fact, my whole body feels sort of strange….tingly, but it's not a feeling I usually have when I’m with Etash, and it scares me. My body feels sort of numb. And I start to panic.
Oh, please, please
don’t let this numbness be the only thing I'll ever be allowed to feel whenever I get close to someone!

Desperate, I pull him closer, needing to prove to myself that Etash will be different. I
will
feel something other than emptiness when I'm with him.

I force my tongue to trace the edge of his ear lobe. Something in my head is warning me to stop, but it's so far away, that it doesn’t have a chance to register for long. Pulling my eyes back to look at him, I toss my hair back trying to be sexy, but instead I just feel the room spin below me. Etash becomes very blurry, but I push on.

“
Don't stop,” I hear myself say, shocked by how brazen I am.

Etash frightens me by grabbing my wrists hard, shaking me a little.
No
, I think. Not you too.

“
Naya. Stop.” I blink hard to try and pull him back into focus. Why do I feel so loopy right now? I try to pull out of his grasp, but he won’t let me.

“
Stop, Naya, you're not thinking clearly,” he says.

I just shake my head at him. Doesn't he realize that I have to know
right now
if I am capable of loving someone?

“
Please,” I beg. “I’ll be a good girl.” I'm shocked hearing my automatic apologies slip out. “Please,” I start sobbing, knowing it’s too late, already feeling the sting of his rejection. He releases my hands and I start to cry.

“
Please
, don’t leave me alone,” I whisper, before an uncontrollable heaviness fills my head.

“
Hey, I’m not going to leave you alone. Naya, look at me.”

But I can’t look at him. I can’t even
see
him anymore. This feels so familiar…my eyes lose focus and everything--the night, my fear, Etash--goes away.

Etash

“
Naya?” She's not answering me. Her eyes have closed and she’s just gone limp in my arms.
Did she just black out again?

Carefully
,
I carry her over to the couch and press my ear to her chest: she's still breathing, although her heart is beating faster than normal. I pull back one of her eyelids and notice how dilated her pupils are. It's like she's on something.
Could she be?

Resting her head on the pillow, I get up and find her book bag, hoping to find something in there that will give me a clue. After I’ve turned the entire bag upside down, a small bottle rolls to the ground.

It's a small brown prescription bottle. Quickly I scan for the name: benzodiazepine.
What the hell is that?
Grabbing my laptop, I Google it and find a link on Wikipidea. I click on it, holding my breath. The drug is defined as an anti-anxiety drug. I click on a link and I read that attacks can be caused by post traumatic stress. Losing both of your parents could certainly do that.

Next I check out the symptoms for anxiety attacks. Some hyperventilate and can black out. Just like at the theatre. It would also explain why she brushed it off. She's probably too embarrassed to talk about it.

A hyperlink within that same page about side effects catches my attention: “...
because of its hypnotic effect, benzodiazephine has been linked with date rape.
A
date rape drug refers to a drug that can be used to assist in the commission of a sexual assault, such as date rape. Drugs used to facilitate rape may have sedative, hypnotic, dissociative, and/or amnesiac effects, and can be added to a food or drink without the victim's knowledge. The drug takes forty-five minutes to an hour to take effect, giving the perpetrator plenty of time to find a private spot for the attack.”

Seth drugged her tonight at dinner. He must have. He probably slipped it into her drink then waited for her to black out. But when she didn't black out by the time
he
was ready, he was too drunk to have the patience to wait until she did. That son of a bitch! I slam down my laptop, fuming.

I know I should call the police, but I don’t have any
real
proof that he actually did it.

With trembling hands I place the contents of her bag back inside, not wanting her to know I invaded her privacy before I curl up beside her and start to cry. How could someone do this to someone so fragile?

“
No one else is ever going to take advantage of you again,” I whisper. “I promise.”

I rock her back and forth in my arms until I feel her heart return to its normal rhythm. My chest rises and falls, quickly matching hers. I don't mean to, but at some point the rocking and the sound of her heart beating against mine forces my own eyes to shut and I fall asleep with her tucked safely in my arms.

When the morning sun hits my eyes I wake with a start. After I make sure Naya is still here and alive, that this wasn’t all a dream, I sigh in relief.

“
Thank you,” I whisper to the heavens.

“
You’re welcome,” she replies, stretching in my arms.

“
You're up? Did you sleep okay?”

She sits up and runs a hand through her tangled hair. I can't tell if she's in pain, confused, relieved, or all of the above.

“
I need coffee,” she says in a husky morning voice.

I can't help but smile. “All I have is tea, but I can run to the store.”

“
No, tea’s fine,” she says.

Reluctantly, I leave her side to make it. When I come back with the tray, she’s sitting on the edge of the couch, holding her head in her hands.

“
What is it? Are you okay?” I'm startled by the tinge of hysteria in my voice.

“
Headache.” She rubs her fingers against her temples for a few moments before she gives me a big warm smile, and I’m mesmerized.

I pour us out each a cup of tea and resign myself to the potential unpleasantness that may lie ahead. I don't want to mention what happened last night. I don't want to upset her further, but I have to know.

“
Naya, how much do you remember about last night?”

She lowers her head, embarrassed, and starts rubbing her head again.

“
You mean before or after I blacked out?”

Not waiting for my answer, she shrugs off the blanket and goes to look out the window. I contemplate following her, but the way her body is positioned with her back to me, it's clear to me that she needs some distance from the world before she can speak again. So I wait.

Chapter 11

Naya

I can’t tell him that I remember him rejecting me. I just can’t. But he’s waiting for an explanation for the blackouts, so by comparison, that's an easy topic.

“
When I was thirteen,” I tell the window, not brave enough to look at him, “I lost both of my parents in a car accident. Some stupid man fell asleep at the wheel and ruined my life.”
And I hate him, like I've never hated anyone in my life.

Etash just looks at me. I wait for the obligatory ‘I’m sorry’ to come. When it doesn’t, I smile.

“
You didn’t say 'you’re sorry’ about my parents’ dying.”

His expression changes, seemingly mortified that he's made a huge mistake.

“
I’m glad you didn't,” I assure him. “I hate it when people say that. They have nothing to be sorry about. They didn't kill my parents.” I trace my fingers against a hairline fracture in the cool glass. “Besides, saying sorry doesn’t help. It doesn’t bring them back.”

“
What happened after they died?” he asks softly.

I pause for a moment, trying to gather my strength. Glancing outside I see that there is a large blue jay fighting with a small, gray squirrel over some precious bit of food scattered on the ground. The blue jay is twice the size of the squirrel. Poor thing doesn't stand a chance of getting what he wants, and neither do I.

I know Etash is still waiting, so I forget the injustice outside. “I won't bore you with all the gory details, but let’s just say, the months after their deaths--the months stuck with the State before I was placed with Harold and Tina, my foster adults--I went…a little crazy.”

I hang my head in shame. Etash is so quiet that I can actually hear a drop of water fall into his kitchen sink.

“
I think I’d go nuts too if I just lost my parents,” he says eventually. “In fact, I think you’d be heartless not to.”

I chuckle sadly.
How did he know the absolute right thing to say?
I wipe the newest tears that have fallen down my cheek and tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

“
A few weeks after I was placed with Harold and Tina, I was still having the panic attacks, so they brought me to a doctor who stuck me on all kinds of drugs.”

Absently, I check back in on my friends outdoors, but they have both vanished along with the food.

“
After awhile though,” I continue, “I stopped taking them because I just didn't care anymore. I didn't care that my parents were dead, I didn't care that I was alive, I didn't care about anything.”