Broken

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Romance

Chapter 2 (v.1) - Chapter TWO

Submitted: December 28, 2017

Reads: 145

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 28, 2017

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“What are you going to do about your sister?” I asked Ethan.

“I don’t know,” he said, his eyes still closed. “I’ll buy a bunch of post cards wherever we stop. Pick up some stamps as well. I’ll send them to her in Washington and ask that she doesn’t tell the rest of the family.”

“Do you think she’d tell them?”

He sat up straight and shook his head. “No. She knows what they put me through.”

I gave him a kiss on the cheek as he rubbed his sleeve. “We can always visit her one day if she’s still in Washington. I’ve never been there before. I’ve always wanted to see Seattle.”

“Do you think she’ll hate me?”

“Absolutely not. Like you said, she knows what everyone put you through. I think sending her letters will be good.”

“Everything is going to be okay,” he told himself. “And if it’s not,” he looked at me, “we’ll take care of it.”

“You sound like a mafia boss or something,” I chuckled.

A smile formed on Ethan’s face. “I’ll take care of it whether you want me to or not,” he said in the worst mafia voice I’d ever heard.

I laughed. “Please don’t ever use that voice again.”

Ethan rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out. He picked his hand from out of his pocket and put his arm around me. It got quiet for a moment.

“Would you ever go back?” he asked.

“Not even if my life depended on it,” I answered truthfully.

Silence fell upon us. I sat at the edge of the train car, watching the trees rush past. This was the last time I was ever going to be here. It was almost beautiful.

 

I wore a tight black top with a push up bra, jeans, and regular shoes. Max was doing my hair, giving it natural curls that I couldn’t achieve on my own. She had straightened her own long hair before I got to her house. I wore a smoky eye look with red lipstick. Max, on the other hand, wore a loose pink top and leggings. She went full on contour, highlight, liner, and fake lashes.

“She interviewed me for some secret newspaper article for the school. Something about being a cheerleader and having a sister who’s in the chess club,” Max said, doing the finishing touches on her makeup.

“And what’d you say?”

“I told her my sister’s a huge nerd and is probably adopted. What else could I say?” she laughed.

“You can’t just say that all willy nilly!” I chuckled.

“And you can’t just say ‘willy nilly!’ What are you, my mother?” Max doubled over in laughter.

“If I’m your mother than I’m grounding you and you can’t go to this party,” I said, sticking my tongue at her.

“You’re going to ruin your lipstick if you keep if you keep that up,” she replied, grabbing her phone. “C’mon. We better get going. We’re already fashionably late.”

We opted to walk to James’ since he only lived a block away from Max. His parents, like everyone else’s in the neighborhood, had nice, high paying jobs. Doctors, lawyers, corporate executives, you name it. Either way, it meant his parents were out of town very often whether it was for work or on vacation.

James, as far as I knew, was the star player of the lacrosse team. From what I could see, he had the nicest house on the block. And the loudest.

Max and I ran our way to the kitchen before properly greeting any of the people we knew. There, beautifully illuminated by the kitchen light, were the drinks. With a few other people, Max and I downed about four shots before splitting up to talk to others.

I found Liz, along with a few other volleyball girls, sitting and chatting on a couch. So, in good nature, I ran over to them and sat on Liz’s lap, stretching my legs over the other girls who I also knew, but not as well as Liz.

“Can’t cheerleaders not drink or something?” Liz yelled over the music, a snarky grin on her face.

“Shouldn’t volleyball players not be drinking beer?” I motioned to bottle in her hand.

“And why can’t volleyball players drink beer?”

“For the same reason cheerleaders can’t drink,” I teased.

“I can’t believe so many people are here!” one of the girls yelled.

“I didn’t even think this many kids went to our school,” another one yelled.

“Our graduating class is, like, five hundred, Amanda. There’s at most three hundred here right now,” Liz shouted back.

We chatted for a bit longer before I needed a change of scenery and something else to keep me intoxicated, so I followed the trail of smoke to the basement. I happily screamed as I saw another cheerleader, Morgan, and ran to hug her. Someone yelled at her to pass the joint, so she handed it to me.

I sat with that group for a little while before moving back upstairs. I pushed past a girl who had already drank too much and made my way back into the kitchen. The kitchen was packed with people and some were doing lines on the island, but that wasn’t something I was about to participate in.

I quickly made a friend, downed two shots of New Amsterdam with them, and then we danced. I didn’t know who she was, even though I’d seen her in the hallway at school, but I could tell she was on some next level drugs. Nevertheless, she was fun to dance with.

When I spotted Carter, my face lit up like a Christmas tree. I ran over to hug him, interrupting his conversation with one of the other cheerleaders. I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a peck on the lips. Not long later, I found myself distracted and dancing with that cheerleader.

At some point that I can’t quite remember, Carter pulled me off to the side to dance. Well, I had been a little too far gone to really see that it was him, but I knew from the touch of his hand on mine that it as him. And I couldn’t doubt it for a moment it was him when he said “let’s go upstairs” in my ear. It was as close to a whisper as one could get with the music so loud.

It was much more lit upstairs and there was way less people. Carter led the way, keeping me balanced. It wasn’t hard to find an unlocked bedroom in a house like this. He shut the door behind me and I stood in the middle of the room, trying to catch my balance and stop swaying.

He held onto my waist and I leaned onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Your cologne smells horrible,” I said.

“That’s not my cologne,” he laughed, “someone spilt their drink on me.”

“Well that’s no good.” I moved away a bit, but still had my arms wrapped around him.

Carter lifted my shirt up to my waist and kissed me. The feeling of his warm hands on my skin was always intoxicating. They were so soft and smooth.

Somehow, we found our way onto the bed. The room swirled around me as we kissed, our tongues tied together and pheromones clouded the air. I pulled off his shirt and he pulled off mine, almost tearing the thin fabric as it got caught on my earring.

We fumbled to get off my jeans. The room still spun, but I felt everything so clearly. It was like I was becoming supersensitive to his touch. I could feel his hands on my waist, my chest, past my underwear…

My heart had never pounded so fast before. I knew this would be the night. I could finally say I lost the V card!

Everything slowed down for a moment.

I asked myself, did I want tonight to be the night? Did I want it to be at a party? What if I didn’t remember it because I drank too much? But this was with Carter – my man. The one who made my stomach drop whenever I saw him. But did I really want this?

“Stop.”

“What?” he froze and looked up at me. “You want me to stop?”

“Not tonight. Another night.” I tried to sit up but he stopped me.

“Are you serious right now?” I could hear the agitation in his voice.

“Let’s just go back to the party.”

“You know how much I’ve wanted this and you’re just saying no right before the good part?”

“I want my first time to be romantic,” I tried to explain, “where we’re both sober.”

“This is so unfair to me!” He paused, hanging his head low enough that I could feel his breath on my neck. “I’m getting what I want,” he stated.

He kept moving, kissing my collarbone and touching my body.

“Carter, please stop.” Instead of that warm feeling I felt before, I felt fear.

I tried to push him away, but the icy touch of his fingers caused me to freeze.

“Carter,” I begged, “get off me.”

He wasn’t listening, so I started screaming. I tried kicking and pushing, but he was much stronger than me. I bit his hand as hard as I could when he put it over my mouth. I could feel the tears streaming down my face.

The next thing I knew, the weight of Carter was gone.


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