He crashes onto the couch, sprawling across the cushions I just vacated. The script falls to the floor, and he doesn’t even glance at it.
“Thought I’d check on you,” he says, patting the spot next to him. “After your crash out at the movies last week.”
I remain standing, arms crossed. “It wasn’t a crash out.”
“Whatever you wanna call it. I wasn’t sure what to do at first. Shay said you probably needed space, so that’s what I gave you. You feeling better?”
I sigh and perch myself on the opposite end of the couch, as far from him as possible while still technically sitting with him.
“I’m not sure what happened,” I mumble. “I just... couldn’t stand it anymore.”
“Yeah, like I said… you crashed out pretty hard.” He chuckles as if the memory’s now funny. “But you got no reason to be embarrassed.”
“For the movies or last Saturday night?”
“Either. C’mon, don’t be like that.” He scoots closer, his body spray inundating my senses in a way that’s so intensely familiar, yet I can’t figure out why. “What did I tell you? I’ve got you, Lana.”
I’ve got you.
The words should be comforting, but they make my skin crawl. My body knows something my brain won’t tell me. Every time he touches me, every time he gets close, there’s this alarm ringing inside me that something’s deeply wrong.
Something happened that I can’t remember on a conscious level.
The bruises are gone now. The ugly purple-yellow marks finally faded.
But the feeling hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse. As if my body’s trying to protect me from something my mind won’t acknowledge.
He slides closer, his arm coming around my shoulders, pulling me against him. “I don’t wanna pressure you, babe. But I really, really like you. You know, get to know you better? If you’re into me too. Are you?”
“I...” I stammer uncomfortably. “I’m… I’m not sure.”
Anymore.
A few weeks ago, I would’ve been so happy if Kel Greene told me these words. Yet now they feel so wrong.
He grins broadly. “C’mon, Lana. You think I don’t know? Yvette told me. I know how long you’ve been feeling me.”
My stomach pits as he leans in and drops a kiss at the corner of my mouth. When I don’t pull away, he grabs my chin and angles my face better so he can kiss me fully.
His lips cover mine, his hands pushing at my shoulders to ease me further back against the couch cushions.
But it’s as my body leans back that the scene around me vanishes. A new one crashes down over me in bleary, distorted fashion.
I’m lying down. My body feels so heavy I can’t move. It’s like I’m being weighted down, so much so I can barely move my head. I turn it from the side, my fuzzy vision on the dark shadows of the room.
The window and curtains. The shape of the lamp on the end table. Then when I roll my head so it’s finally straight, I’m surprised to see I’m no longer alone.
Kel’s face floats above mine. He’s… on top of me. He’s the heavy weight anchoring me down.
Holding me down.
All while his body moves. His body crashes into mine and nausea ripples in my stomach. He’s panting as he goes faster and faster, and I feel sicker and sicker.
But I can’t stop it. I can’t do anything?—
“GET OFF ME!”
I shove him hard, so hard he flies backward off the couch and tumbles to the floor. I’m on my feet, heaving desperate gasps of air into my lungs.
