Ten minutes later I was trying to drive straight while sobbing uncontrollably. “Oh my gosh,” I whispered to myself. Finally deciding that right then wasn’t the best time to drive, I pulled over and took the keys out of the ignition. Covering my face with my hands, I started crying harder, my whole body shaking. How could he do this? Why would he even try that? What an ass hole! I suddenly became angry. The anger rushed through my body and overwhelmed me. Feeling the need to release it, I punched the dash board. Feeling no relief, I punched it again, and again, and again. When I was drained and my hand was hurting, I stopped. I was no longer crying. I simply sat in my chair and stared numbly out the window. Not less than an hour earlier I had the perfect boyfriend, now I had no one. Sagging back against the seat, I let my head fall back and my eyes close. Rethinking the events over in my head, I began to feel sad again. Tears leaked out of my eyes and I slowly began crying harder and harder.
A sudden knock on my window shocked me out of crying for a second. But I began crying harder when I saw who it was. He opened the car door and I got out, immediately wrapping my arms around him and crying into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, too, and kissed the top of my head. This was the one person I truly needed at this moment.
“It’s okay,” Peter whispered into my hair, rubbing small circles on my back.
This only made me cry harder. He held me until I gradually stopped crying. After that we just stood there together: me, resting my head on his chest, and him, resting his head on my head.
“What happened?” he asked eventually.
“He wanted to have sex.” I felt Peter’s body tense at this. “I didn’t want to,” I continued, “and he got mad and called me a prude.”
“Let’s go back to my place, okay? My parents aren’t home, so they won’t see you all upset and won’t ask questions. Get in the passenger’s seat, I’m driving.”
I nodded and got in. Glancing over at him sitting in the driver’s seat I asked, “How did you even see me?”
“I was taking a walk and just saw you sitting there crying, so I figured something went wrong with Tyler.”
“Oh,” I said quietly.
When we got to his house he got out and came around to my side, opening the door for me. Taking my hand like he always did, he led me to his front door. Leading me through the house back to his room, he started to say something, and then stopped, thinking better of it. His room was small and consisted of one twin sized bed, a dresser, a desk, and a desk chair. That was it. Letting go of his hand, I took off my shoes and climbed into his bed. He climbed in next to me, pulling me close. The bed was small, needless to say, so we were pretty close already. I half-lay on top of him, with my head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, and then pulled the covers up around us. Listening to his hear beat, I was momentarily happy.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” he said softly.
“Okay,” I whispered. And then, listening to his heart the whole time, I told him what happened. His whole body tensed as I told him how Tyler refused to get off of me at first, forcing my jeans off. He squeezed me tight as I told him about our fight, but he froze when I told him how Tyler had slapped me back.
“He did what?”
All I did was snuggle into him more. “How long are your parents going to be gone?” I asked.
“My dad had a business trip and they both went, so they wont be back until Sunday night.”
Sunday was tomorrow, I thought. “Can I sleep over, Peter?” I asked.
“What are you going to tell your parents?” he asked.
“Shit, I didn’t think about that. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
“No, you need to call and tell them.”
Groaning, I dialed my home number, my head still resting on his chest.
“Hello?” my mother’s clipped, professional voice came over the line.
“Oh, Alexandra. Is something wrong?”
“No, I was just calling to tell you I’m sleeping over at…um, Danielle’s house.”
“Excuse me? Who is Danielle?”
“A friend from school.”
“I hardly think that—”
“Okay, thank you Mom, bye,” I said, hanging up on her. It was a moment after that I had done it that it actually sunk in. “Oh no,” I whispered, “it’s going to be hell when I get home.”
“Well, at least you warned them!” Peter said. He suddenly became quiet, staring out the window.
“I love you Peter,” I whispered, closing my eyes.
“I love you too.”
And for the second time, those were the last words I heard before I fell asleep.
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