sexual assault and manipulation will be mentioned in this chapter.
i have put 2 sets of stars surrounding the possibly triggering scene, and i strongly advise you to skip past it if you are sensitive to these topics.
please remember that, if you are a victim of assault, you are never alone and there will always be someone you can speak to. whether it be an authoritative figure, a friend, or even me, know that you are never alone.
please read this chapter with caution.
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CHAPTER TWENTY ONE boys will be boys
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"LEAVING SO SOON?" Ward asked, confused at my behaviour. "You haven't touched your food yet."
"I think Noah left something in my room. Better to get it now than to forget later." I put emphasis on the boy's name, Rafe's reaction bringing me a strange thrill. "Also, sorry Rose, but I'm not touching that meatloaf."
I took one last glance at the unimpressed faces at the dinner table before heading for my room, wanting to get high as fast as I could.
I couldn't stomach looking at Rafe for another sober moment.
"I still don't know why you hired another Pogue after what happened with John B." I heard the woman's voice fade progressively from across the hall, choosing not to care for her sour attitude.
The same squeaking noise from my Converse returned once I started sprinting up the stairs, the ability to breathe normally becoming restricted with every step. Being a smoker had its ups most of the time, but right now I surely wanted to have normal lungs.
My body fell against the railing of the 2nd storey, allowing me to catch my breath for a moment. Stabilising myself with the help of the hallway walls, I stumbled into my bedroom with the bag of cocaine still safe in my hands.
The door made an unexpected slamming noise as I closed it, the sound making me jump.
"Sorry!" I shouted, not wanting to anger the family any more than I already had.
I gripped onto the corner of my desk, placing the plastic baggie down on the surface. Rafe's ring fell onto the floor, the sight of it repulsing me even further.
If I wasn't upset about last Saturday as it was, I certainly was after tonight's appearance. All along I knew that involving myself with a Kook would end badly, but I never imagined letting myself get this bad.
I hated every part of the situation. I hated how he treated me. I hated how he touched me. I hated how he spoke to me. I hated how he looked at her.
But, most of all, I hated myself for not being able to hate him. Despite hating everything about him, I couldn't find the guts to hate him and only him.
