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I can’t get that day out of my head, however much I try. I can’t close my eyes without recalling the sea of writhing bodies.
I manage to avoid everyone I know Monday, but the next day, I have physics.
I make myself walk to my usual place, and slide on my seat next to Violet. It’s awkward.
We have a few classes in common; she’s studying to become an astronomer, and I want to be a vet. Freshman year, it means we’re both taking 101-level STEM courses.
My blush sets my entire face on fire as I vividly remember what she looked like yesterday, with so many cocks in and around her.
Happy. Blissfully content.
Dirty.
That’s what she looked like.
I shift on my feet and cross my legs, ridiculously self-conscious. My cheeks burn.
I wonder if she saw me. If she knows what Marius did to me. Likely not; she was otherwise engaged.
“You didn’t answer my texts,” she says, her tone too neutral.
I blink. I don’t think I even checked my messages in the last day and a half.I rarely get any notifications. “Sorry.”
She shrugs off my apology.
“Sunday must have been a bit of a shock, huh?” Violet then asks casually, titling her head.
Her eerie purple eyes are staring at me, paying far too much attention.
So much for her not knowing.
I lower my gaze to my lap, unsure what to say, not wanting to voice anything at all.
Violet reaches out to my hand and squeezes it. I bite my lower lip.
“Did you…” I clear my throat, feeling awkward as hell. “Did you see me?”
“No.” Before I have a moment to breathe out a sigh of relief, she adds, “Rhys did.”
Rhys? That’s only a thousand times worse.
“He had words with Marius,” Violet assures me, frowning. “He shouldn’t have pressed you for collateral. Rhys and I would have vouched for you. Are you okay?”
Am I?
That’s a loaded question, and one I haven’t asked myself. I shouldn’t be. Sunday should have traumatized me, like any of the attacks I’ve lived through.
But it didn’t. Somehow, I wasn’t afraid then. I’m still not afraid now. More like deeply embarrassed. Ashamed of something, though I’d be hard pressed to pinpoint what.Ishouldn’t be the one feeling any shame.
Easier said than done, especially with that damn picture firmly burned behind my retina.
Realizing she’s waiting for an answer, I bob my head up and down.
The frown between her eyebrows tells me she’s not buying my bullshit, but she opts not to press me.
“Good. Well, if you have questions, or if you need to talk, I’m here,” she tells me with a smile.
