Weak.That’s what I tell myself.Useless. Broken.
The world narrows to the pressure of his hand creeping higher on my thigh. I can’t breathe. I can’t move.
Oh God.
Suddenly, Darren’s hand is ripped off me, and he’s pulled out of his chair. I remain deathly still, trapped in my own head.
I’m vaguely aware of a scuffle going down nearby. There’s cursing and yelling, but I’m stuck in a prison of my mind and can’t find my way out.
“Lina! Hey, Lina! You’re ok. Breathe, Princess. Come back to me.”
The voice cuts through the fog, warm and insistent. Familiar.
Gradually, I become conscious of my surroundings again. I hear the chirping of birds, feel the light breeze blowing across my skin, and then, the firm hand cupping my cheek. I lurch back to find Axel, kneeling in front of me, palms raised.
“Hey. It’s ok. I’m sorry. I won’t touch you again.” He speaks calmly, voice low and careful. “Are you with me, now?”
Lip trembling, I manage a small nod.
“Good.”
He stands abruptly and shouts at someone over my shoulder—
“Piss off!”
His tone and sudden movement startle me, but he instantly lowers his voice again. “Sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I swallow hard and lift a shaky hand to my face. It’s damp. Tears. Shit.
My eyes shoot around, throat tight. Who saw that? Who sawme?
Axel notices. He leans in like he’s going to grab my chin but catches himself and stops short.
“Lina.” His voice grounds me again. “No one’s out here but us. I sent them all back inside. It’s just you and me. Okay?”
I sniffle and wipe my eyes on my sleeve. Without a word, Axel grabs a few napkins from my tray and offers them, careful not to touch me. I take them and attempt to clean myself up.
I’m a mess. A teenage trainwreck. If people weren’t already talking before, they definitely will be now.
When I finally stop crying, Axel stands and takes the seat next to mine. Still silent. Still here.
“What happened, Lina?”
I don’t respond. A, we don’t have time to unpack that question, and B, I don’t trust him enough to try. Not yet. He may have shown me compassion just now, but I still remember the scowl, the cold shoulder, the way he treated me this weekend.
“Lina?”
Still, I say nothing.
Axel slams his fist down on the table.
I shrink, squeezing my eyes shut. But nothing else happens. No yelling. No threats.
When I peek them open, he’s back to kneeling in front of me, his honey-brown eyes locked on mine.
“What happened?” he repeats, softer this time. “Who hurt you?”
He searches my eyes, seeming to be contemplating that last part internally, instead of actually asking.
