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I don’t remember anything, let alone the act itself.
It was supposed to be special. And sweet. And with Archer, maybe.
I look around and see the pictures on the wall.
Kai Droga.
No-no-no.
I close my eyes and try to swallow the nasty bile that is rising in my throat.
I scramble out of bed and grab my clothes from the chair. Dress. Bra. Sticky. Covered in puke.
Oh, God, no.
I pull all of it on, cringing at the sour smell and fighting the urge to vomit, grab my shoes, and tiptoe to the door.
There is silence outside. There is silence in the hallway as I creep toward the staircase. Down to the ground floor. The muffled sound of a TV comes from somewhere. Music drifts out of someone’s room. I reach the ground floor and look around to figure out where the front door is.
I round the corner and almost bump into a guy with spiky hair, wearing only shorts, a can in his hand. One of Archer’s friends.
Crap.
His face splits into a shocked grin. “Aaaaaaaaw shiiiiiit, guys!” he almost screams.
I feel my face catch on fire. I scramble past him, focusing on the front door.
And that’s when another guy blocks my path.
And more of them start walking out from all corners, a dozen of them.
All cheering, giggling, booing.
“Is that what Kai was hiding in his room?”
Someone cackles.
Fear sweeps through me so strongly that my knees almost buckle.
I will never forget those twenty feet to the front door of the fraternity house as a dozen guys start whistling and clapping.
A walk of shame is never easy.
Neither is cyber-bullying, memes, nasty texts, threats from Archer that same day, and my car spray-painted with the bright yellow “SLUT” across it.
That was the day I ran, switched schools, and never came back to Deene University. Nor did I ever talk to anyone. Except Abby, of course. My life was months of hell until people I knew at Deene forgot about me and found other entertainment.
I’ve never seen or talked to Kai since. Or Archer.EspeciallyArcher. I’ve never told anyone what happened that night.
And now Kai is like a heavy blow from the past.
Except this time, when our eyes met, his were blazing with so much hate that it made my stomach turn.
I should be the one hating him for what he did to me. But that was before the Change. Before I lost my entire family, just like many others. Before the fallout and the ruined country, barred from the rest of the world, became the new reality.
Exhausted, I let my eyelids droop.
I just want to wake up in a place that doesn’t remind me of the traumas of the past.
