NORMAL (33 page)

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Authors: Danielle Pearl

BOOK: NORMAL
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Vaguely I hear a roar of a groan that sounds strangely distant through the roar of blood muffling my ears, though somehow I still know it's Robin and he's still right here. On me. In me. Finally he stills inside me and expels panting breaths right into my face. My sight blurs and I can no longer keep my eyelids from falling closed.  

Finally, Robin's monstrous hand relaxes and instantly I gasp in giant gulps full of precious air. I wince as he pulls out of me, but I can barely register anything other than replacing my lost oxygen.

Robin sighs as he steps back and grasps me by the waist. He makes to set me down, but my legs don't hold, and I slide unceremoniously to the cold concrete floor, shoulders heaving.

"Look at me," he demands.

Still wheezing, my face drenched in an ocean of tears, I force my eyes open and look up at him, terrified of what he might do now if I were to defy him now. He looms over me, powerful and inherently threatening, as he tucks himself back into his jeans and fastens his belt. I flinch unconsciously at the jingle of his buckle, the sound representing such sickening memories, none of which even remotely compare to this moment.

"You brought that on yourself," Robin murmurs.

I sit frozen, a pathetic pile on the bathroom floor, tears still gushing down my cheeks. My bare behind is ice cold on the dirty tile floor and my breasts are still exposed, but all my energy is devoted to breathing, and holding myself in a seated position, palms planted desperately on the floor.

"I gotta get goin'... You get this weekend, but only 'cause I'm so damn mad I can't even fuckin' look at you right now. I will see you Sunday, Rory," he spits, "and then you'll remember this the next time you think you want fuckin' space from me," he mutters bitterly.  

Robin turns, and I think he's about to leave, but then he turns back and crouches down so we are eye to eye. I flinch when he reaches out to tuck my hair behind my ear. He adjusts the cups of my bra so that they are back in place, then gently takes hold of the hem of my top, pulling it back down before fixing my skirt. I have no underwear to speak of.

"You know why I had to do that, right?" he murmurs softly.

I don't know what to say, and like I'm in a trance, I just nod.

"You know I love you, sweetheart, right?"

I nod again.  

Robin presses a kiss softly to my cheek, and with that, he turns and leaves. I count the sound of his footsteps on the concrete floor as he walks away. Thirty steps. The locker room door slams.

I'm stunned. I sit there, on the bathroom floor, in wonder that I'm even still alive. Part of me still wishes I wasn't.

****

 

Time passes quickly... and also slowly.

It's hours before I pry myself off of the floor. I can see the sky has darkened, and I worry someone may come through to clean. I don't dare look in the mirror. Instead, I return to my locker, and pull out a spare pair of jeans and a tee shirt. I stuff my uniform into my bag and, in a daze, stagger out of the school. I fear that Robin is waiting in the dark somewhere, but rationally I know that he must have been in Gainesville for hours by now.

My parents are down at my grandmother's, so I could go home and no one would know I didn't go with Robin until Sunday, if at all, but the truth is I don't want to be alone. I drive in a daze and reach my house before I even realize I've left the parking lot. I stare at Cam's empty driveway. I know his mother will be at the hospital until late tomorrow morning. Cam must be out, too. I go around back to his back porch and try the handle. It's locked. I pull out the key that Cam's mom had given me years ago and let myself in. I make my way to Cam's room and close the door. Only then, do I allow myself to look in the mirror.

Not as bad as I thought.

There are stains on the front of my jeans from where blood has seeped through the denim thanks to Robin's creative use of his house key
.
Damn, I should've cleaned that right away.  

There is already bruising on my neck and wrists, which means they'll be real bad come morning. There's also a tiny football shaped indent in my neck from my necklace. I rip it from my neck and throw it across the room. I never want to lay eyes on it again.

My back hurts so much, and I'm thankful I can't see it. My face is a mess. My cheeks are streaked with black from mascara filled tears, there's pink staining around my swollen mouth from Robin's crushing kisses. There are hickies on my neck and shoulder, as well as bite marks. I can still see the perfect indent of Robin's teeth in two places.

And a burning pain radiates from between my legs. It's not unfamiliar to me, but it's more intense than ever before.

I take a deep breath, and slowly, so as to aggravate these injuries as little as possible, pull my top over my head. I undo my jeans and carefully tug them off before kicking off my sneakers and socks. I am naked but for my bra, but even through the lace, I can see the swelling and bite mark on my right breast.  

And my hip is still bleeding. I don't think it's so deep that it'd need stitches, but even so, I know where Michelle, Cam's mom, keeps her butterfly bandages. They'll have to do.

I remove my bra and let it fall to the floor. I am thoroughly disgusted with myself. I can't look at myself for one more second. I grab Cam's bathrobe off the hook behind his door and make my way to his bathroom.

I turn on the shower and close my eyes. I wait until the bathroom has filled with steam so I can't see my reflection in the mirror, and only then do I remove the bathrobe again. I take care in the shower, letting the nearly scalding water wash away the remnants of Robin Forbes. I can still feel him
everywhere
.
I vow to myself that he will not touch me again.

Ever.

I scrub despite the bruising and the soreness, but no matter how hard I scrub, his marks are still there. I wear the events of today like tattoos, and though I know at least most of my injuries will eventually heal, I wonder what will happen to the marks no one can see. If my nightmares are any indication, they will not get better with time, no, they will just fester and rot until they haunt my waking hours like my nightmares do my sleep.

Finally I get out and towel off. I clean the cut from Robin's house key. I was right, it doesn't need stitches, but it is pretty deep. It's still bleeding. I clean it again with antibacterial soap and apply bacitracin. I retrieve the butterfly bandages from the top shelf of the linen closet and it takes six of them to close the wound. Then I cover the whole thing with gauze and tape it down just in case it decides to bleed some more.

I wrap myself in a towel, and, still damp, I put on one of Cam's old tee shirts and boxers, and with my hair still sopping wet, I grab my cell phone and climb into his bed.

Robin is an hour and a half away. I also know he has to be up at six in the morning and he can't be late to the program. He can't come after me again tonight no matter what. In fact, with the pre-training dinner on Saturday night, the absolute earliest he can leave is Sunday morning.

There's a storm coming Sunday too. It's not supposed to be too bad, but it has been all over the news. But
my
storm - the destructive torrent that is Robin Forbes - is done.

I text him.

We are over
.

Nothing else. There's nothing else left to say.

I consider texting Cam that I'm here and staying over, but I don't want him to rush home for me. And I know if text him he'll do just that, even though he wouldn't know anything had happened. I don't want to burden him. I feel like I'm a weight on his shoulders. I love him in ways I could never love Robin. Unconditionally. Of course, Cam could never possess any conditions that would make him unlovable.

I wonder if he's out with the guys or if he's with a girl. Suddenly I feel that pang of jealousy that's lately become somewhat familiar. I know it isn't fair. Until two minutes ago I had a boyfriend. But
,
God
,
I haven't been able to stop noticing things about Cam that hadn't caught my attention before. At least not the way they do now. Like the lines of the muscles in his back. The deep cut V that disappears below his waistline.

His scent.

What used to just make me feel comfort and security, now also ignites something else. Something unfamiliar.

I close my eyes with thoughts of Cam, and somehow Robin and the terrifying events of tonight are buried somewhere deep within my psyche.

****

 

"Rory girl?" Cam whispers.

I blink my eyes open and turn.

"Is it okay that I'm here?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," he murmurs, and even though it's too dark to really see, I know he's rolled his eyes.

Cam kicks off his shoes and pulls his flannel pajama pants out of his drawer. I hold my breath as he removes his shirt. Even in just the moonlight, I can see the definition of muscle and sinew in his chest and abdomen. And his strong arms. I need them tonight.

He removes his belt, and before he removes his jeans, he lifts his head to look at me.

"Uh, Ror?"

"Yeah?" My whisper is breathy, a stranger's voice.

"You gonna turn around or should I change in the bathroom?" he asks with a chuckle.

God
am I lucky it's too dark for him to see my blush.
Has Cam ever made me blush before?
Jesus
, tonight has really thrown me off. I turn to my side, away from Cam, and hug my pillow.

When I hear him open the closet door for his sleeping bag, I reach behind me and flip open the comforter. Cam sighs at my silent request, and hesitates only a few moments before sliding behind me and wrapping me in his arms. I find his hand, so big splayed over my stomach, and lace my fingers with his. I hide my wince from my smarting back as he pulls me tighter against him, but I'm grateful for the comfort.

"
God
I've missed you, Ror," he breathes into my hair.

"Me too, Cam." He has no idea how much. I'm so glad he can't see my face right now.

"I thought you were goin down to Gainesville with Forbes," he says.

I shake my head. "We... broke up," I whisper.

My back smarts again as Cam's lungs fill with a sharp intake of air. He swallows, then exhales. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks.

I shake my head again. "Not tonight. I just wanna sleep," I whisper back. I feel Cam's nod.

"Okay. Night, Ror." He kisses my hair.

"Night, Cam. Love you." Feeling how emphatically I mean the words, I regret every time I've said them to Robin. I'm quite sure now that I never really loved him at all.

"Me too, Rory girl."

I breathe deeply, inhaling Cam's scent. I'm filled with his masculine essence, he smells clean, and strong... like home.

"Ror?" he whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Did you just... uh... sniff me?" he asks. I can hear the smile in his voice.

I jab him lightly with my elbow in response and we both laugh.

Finally I close my eyes, and slip back into sleep.

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Present Day

 

I
'm a different person in Miami. The sun is shining, and I let the vitamin D seep into my skin. Here, I don't have to be Rory: victim, survivor, or damaged mess.

Here, I'm just another high school senior blowing off steam on Spring Break. I walk alone on the beach as the sun begins to set. We all spent the day by the pool, relaxing, swimming, just messing around like normal teenagers. And here, now, I can pretend I'm one of them.

I've showered and slipped on my cutoffs and a tank top, and decided to sneak in some quick alone time on the beach before I head up to Carl and Tina's room to submit to Carl's insistence on doing my hair and makeup. Tonight, we're all going out to dinner and then to club and bar hop. Dave has the inside info on which establishments don't ask for ID, and I'm truly looking forward to continuing Operation: Normal Rory.

I was shocked when I saw the room Sam's uncle put me up in. It's more like a giant suite with only one room. A contemporary king bed dominates the large space, with a huge modern marble bathroom with both a shower, and a tub, not to mention a vanity area and a bidet. And it also has its own living area and an incredible balcony. But that's not what most shocked me.

When I texted Sam that there must be some mistake with my room since the rate I paid shouldn't cover even the most basic accommodations in this hotel, I heard an immediate knock on my door.

But not the main door. No, the knock came from the door to the adjoining room.

My room attaches to Sam's suite.

And a suite it is. It's a freaking luxury apartment.

Sam's suite has a separate bedroom, living room, and even a small kitchen with a dining table. His uncle sure took care of him.

Sam even offered to keep the doors adjoining our rooms open, or at least unlocked, since he has a separate bedroom anyway, but I told him I didn't think it was a good idea. I know he thinks it's because I don't trust him, not fully - not to give him unfettered access to my bedroom - but the truth is, I'm worried I'll let this new Normal Rory thing go to my head. That I might crawl into his bed in the middle of the night like I used to do with Cam, but without the element of innocence. Especially if I have something to drink. It's not like I've drunk enough in my life to have developed much of a tolerance for alcohol.

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