Here’s My Rape Story — The Second of Three
Do you remember fucking me? Do you remember bragging to your friends about it? Do you remember how it all went down? No? (Oh, so that word is a part of your vocabulary) Well, Russell, allow me to refresh your memory.
It all started innocently enough. We had a big swim meet that weekend. A lot of parents had already started to trickle into town. My mom and brother were scheduled to arrive the following day. I was feeling anxious. I’d gained so much weight since they’d dropped me off in August. I knew I wouldn’t swim well and didn’t want them to drive twelve hours to see me fat and floundering at my first collegiate swim meet.
Everybody was going out. I didn’t want to. I hated that awful bar, what was it called? Cochrane’s I think. The fucking dance bar. I guess every campus needs at least one. Not my thing. Especially sober. I wasn’t drinking and the only way I could handle that awful bar is if I was drinking, but my roommates made me go. So I went.
Everybody else was drinking. No one but me seemed to care that our first swim meet as division 1 athletes was two days away. The parents were there. All drinking along with their kids — a very bizarre sight for me. Thank god my mom wasn’t there.
Wait: god I wish she had been there. She would have saved me from them…from you.
Once everyone started to get to that point of drunkenness where a sober person can’t bear any longer, I was ready to split. It was still early enough to where I wasn’t afraid to walk home alone, so I started to say my good-byes.
Just as I turned to leave, one of my fellow freshman swimmers, we’ll call him Bobby, grabbed me by the hand and pulled me close to him. He tucked his head into that crook between my shoulder and neck and begged me not to go. I tried to pull away, but he kept me close. Another one of my fellow freshman swimmers, we’ll call him Mike, came up from behind, wrapped his arm around my waist and his mouth around my neck — and started sucking.
I tried to pull away, but I was sandwiched between these two men and couldn’t budge.
I wasn’t angry yet. I think I was frustrated. I was confused. I didn’t understand why Mike and Bobby were holding me against my will. And at some point the whole of the swimmers that were in that bar, and those parents who were there, surrounded us, kinda like they were watching a cock fight. I struggled to break free and then Bobby started sucking on the other side of my neck. I think this is when I started to get angry and tried to really pull away.
I fell to the ground and a few others joined in the fun of sucking on my neck. The crowd grew and the laughs blended in with the music and the strobe lights were a blur and finally you came and broke it up. You saved me…albeit a little late. You pulled them off of me and scolded them.
I was ashamed. I was angry. And I was walking home. You wouldn’t let me. You said it wasn’t safe. You said you would drive me home. You needed to get Bobby out of there because he was blind with booze. I agreed. You said Bobby and I live in the same dorm so you will drive us both home. Would I see to it that Bobby gets in bed? Of course I will. I was mad at him for his drunken lunacy. But he was my friend.
So we left the bar and you soothed my soul. You made me feel safe again. You didn’t know that I had a crush on you. Or maybe you did. Maybe you could sense it. I knew I had no chance with you. You were a junior. Your girlfriend — who was a sophomore swimmer, had a sorority event that night — was a real bitch…one of few women at that time and to this day that I am scared of.
We joked about how my mom and brother were coming into town and I have a neck full of hickies. Oh Jesus help me. What a fucked up thing they just did, right? What the fuck was that about? Drunken idiots, you called them. Yep. Drunken idiots.
You threw Bobby into the back of your jeep and held the door open for me. I climbed in and thought about how nice it would have been to grow up rich like you. To have a new car and Ralph Lauren clothes. From Connecticut you were. So handsome. Blonde and blue. And that swimmer body. You had those perfect muscles — you know — the ones just above your hip bone. So defined and beautiful. My favorite of part of a man. You climbed in and we were off.
And then Bobby started puking. Oh shit, you said. And you asked me if I minded if we stopped at your place to drop off Bobby first. It was on the way to the dorm. You would run him in, take me home, then go back and take care of him. This is the last thing you needed, right.
We got to your place and Bobby was passed out cold. Dead weight. Do I mind helping you get him into the apartment. Of course not.
We get Bobby settled on the couch. While you get him a bucket I sit next to Bobby and ask him why he gave me a hickie. He slurs: “It was just in fun.” Don’t be mad at him. He loves me. It was just for fun. Don’t be mad.
You came back with a bucket and looked at the clock. You said it was late and you were tired. Do I mind just sleeping at your place? I can have your bed. You’d sleep out here with Bobby.
Oh. OK. Sure. Thanks. You showed me into your room. Your bed was lofted. You climbed up and fluffed the pillows for me. Arranged the down comforter. You climbed back down and motioned with your hand for me to climb up. You said, It’s all yours. I said thanks and good night. I climbed up and you walked to the door, turned and put your hand on the light switch. I snuggled in. You said good night, flipped the lights off and shut the door…almost all the way.
I watched you through the crack in the door. You were rummaging around the apartment. Maybe cleaning up? I thought about how nice you were. Such a gentlemen. From a good, rich, Connecticut family. Your bed was comfortable. Cozy. My first experience with a down comforter. Ah. Heavenly.
Just before I fell asleep, you popped your head in. Do I mind if you sleep in there with me? Bobby is snoring and your roommates are going to be home soon. They will be drunk and unruly. You need to get some sleep.
Um. Sure. OK. The freshman swimmers all have sleep overs. We are kind of like a family. Sure. OK.
You kicked off your shoes. Slipped off your socks. Took off your shirt and pants. You left your boxers. You climbed up the ladder. You looked at me and smiled. You climbed over top of me to get behind me. I skooched over so there was enough room. You said good night. I said good night. I fell asleep.
I woke up. Your hand was under my shirt resting on the curve between my hip and my rib cage. I have a nice curve between my hip and my rib cage. Now and then. Thin or fat.
You slid your hand across my bare stomach. I sat silent. Am I dreaming.
You pulled me closer to you. I am not dreaming.
You rolled me toward you. I sat silent.
You kissed me. I pulled away and said no.
You said it was OK. I said No.
You said please. Just kiss me. I said no. What about your girlfriend? (the only woman I’d ever met that I was scared of).
You said don’t worry about her. I said no.
You kissed me anyway. I pulled away and said no.
You didn’t take no for an answer. You kissed me. I didn’t kiss you back.
You climbed on top of me. I sat silent.
You tried to put yourself inside of me. I said no. Please no.
You licked your hand, wiped your spit on your cock and put yourself inside of me. I sat silent.
You fucked me. I sat silent.
You finished. You kissed my forehead. You rolled off of me, onto your back, panting slightly.
You looked at me and smiled. You asked me how many people I had been with.
I said including you?
You said yes. Including me.
I said three.
You looked at me confused.
I said, My high school sweetheart, Mike (one of the hicky guys — I had dated him for a couple of months at the beginning of freshman year) and now you.
You looked like you didn’t believe me. I turned away from you and went to sleep.
You drove me and Bobby home the next morning.
You said not to tell a soul about last night.
I never told a soul.
But you did.
***
Head pounding. Heart throbs.
Writing should be cathartic.
Now I just feel sick.
***
You don’t have sit silent.
