Please, Please, Please
chapter vi
warnings: domestic violence,
partying, mention of
weight loss
THE MORNING CAME FASTER than Layne had anticipated—she woke up feeling sick to her stomach, a hand over her head, and sweat filming her skin. The humidity of the Outer Banks was one way to make her so unbelievably hot, but the other was that she was coming down from a one day long coke bender. Layne felt gross even admitting to it. Her head felt heavy, like she was out in space, and her underwear were missing under her shorts. She forgot, for a moment, why didn't have them on. Rafe didn't come to her mind right away and she tried to move out of bed but just slumped to the floor. She felt like she was stuck in snow. You cannot breathe beneath snow. You cannot move beneath snow. Layne could not move because Rafe was not there to pick her up.
Her phone was under her bed, and she wasn't sure how it got there. It was half dead and there were multiple missed texts and calls from Marian, Claudia and Kiara. She even saw a text from Pope. If she was honest, she didn't even realize Pope had her number. She pulled her hair up, off her neck, and changed into new new clothes to go out into the living room. Her mom was making coffee in the kitchen and her dad was still asleep on the reclining chair in the living room. He was snoring while the ten o'clock news played. Layne knew her dad tended to come out in the living room in the middle of the night to avoid her mother's snoring.
"Hey baby," her mother greeted her by running a hand over her head. Layne was too tired to answer. She tried to cover up her hickeys by pulling up her shirt, but Rory spotted them. Layne felt sorry for her mother in that moment—she had been so rude to her within the last few days, and scaring the shit out of her multiple times, yet Rory was so understanding and moved on so quickly. Layne wondered if her mother got any sleep when she wasn't home.
"Did you sleep okay?"
Layne almost didn't want to answer because she would vomit from guilt. Every time she looked at her mother she saw Rafe on top of her, and she didn't know why. She couldn't even look her mother in the eyes. "Layne, you're scaring me."
Layne pushed her mom's hand off her arm. "Mom, I'm fine." She pulled out the carton of milk and took a swig without pouring it into the glass. Sometimes she believed she was the only one who drank the milk in the first place. "Are you going to tell me about this Rafe kid you've been seeing?" Layne always wondered why her mom cared so much. Her friend's mothers didn't pry. They didn't care about their daughter's love lives. They wore masks and melted into the cookie cutter lives that their daughters baked for them. They didn't care if their kids were out until late hours of the night—if anything, they encouraged it, by doing it themselves. Layne questioned whether or not she was living a normal teenage life too many times.
Her face went red at the mention of Rafe. She wasn't sure why she acted as though she didn't know that her mother knew. "Mom . . . he's nothing. I mean—he's not nothing, but nothings happening between us. I think. I don't know—"
"I miss when we would have girl talk. Why don't we go out today and talk about college and stuff? Have a girls day. Like we used to,"
Layne bit into a strawberry and shrugged. "I don't know. I just—I'm gonna go to the marina today. Talk to Alberto and see if he forgives me for being a heathen." she joked, although she wasn't entirely joking. Alberto would probably want to crucify her for wanting to work anywhere else other than the marina. Maybe he would pay her better this year. There were a lot of maybes going through her head at the moment, but she knew she couldn't be home any longer to deal with her mother's grueling questions. So, she got into the shower, scrubbed her skin until it was raw and pink, lathering up her skin with lotion because she couldn't handle touching her own flesh.
Layne decided to call Marian when she was sitting on top of her bed, picking at her nails, and contemplating whether or not she wanted to get a manicure. Rafe always liked when her nails and toenails were painted. She kept calling until she answered, groggy, and moody. "Layne? Hello? You okay?" Layne couldn't tell if she sounded annoyed or not. Her mind immediately registered to her sounding annoyed.
"Sorry to wake you . . . I was just um—I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out at all today? Claudia too. I just feel like since we haven't seen each other in so long, you know—"
Marian interrupted her solace with a sigh. Layne knew she was annoyed—she didn't know why she called. "I gotta work today. But uhm—I know there's a party tonight. At Marcus's house. I'm sure you can come with your boyfriend." She sounded spiteful. Layne had the urge to cry, and her hands began to shake. "He's not my boyfriend."
"Okay, sure," Layne rolled her eyes as if Marian didn't have a reason to be annoyed. But, she also believed that she had a reason to be annoyed, as well, for Marian and Claudia have been such shitty friends the last two years, that Layne had every reason to give them the same treatment they had given her all these years. But they were her only friends. She didn't want to think about the younger pogues who were tired of her and Rafe Cameron's bullshit.
"I guess I'm just surprised there's a party the night after a boneyard party?"
"Well, it was pretty much all pogues. I guess the kooks wanted to have a party of their own or something. Y'know, all that competition shit."
". . . Right. Aren't we pogues, though?"
Marian laughed on the other end, almost as though Layne had offended her. Layne had never wanted to go back to college more than right now. She didn't understand how her friends could do a complete one-eighty on her so quickly. It was only days ago they were hugging her and exclaiming how much they missed her. Now they hardly wanted to see her. Old habits die hard but fake friendships die harder.
"Y'know what I mean. I gotta go . . . I work the day shift . . . I'll see you tonight."
She hung up before Layne could say anything, and she had to physically pry the phone from her ear as if she was expecting to hear breathing on the other line, some notion that Marian was waiting for her to hang up first instead. But, she was left with a dead line and the ring was so deafening that she had to throw her phone down on the duvet. Her head felt like it was in space. She wasn't sure how to get down from the feeling—she had never felt so lonely in her life. She stared at Rafe's contact but closed her phone before she could give in. She was still sitting on her towel on her bed and her hair was soaking her sheets, and when she got up to get changed, there was a wet spot in her wake. Layne grunted and dropped the towel, not bothering to close the curtains, as though she was expecting Rafe to be there watching her. Or maybe his friends, or his dad. She wanted to feel like she was betraying him, holding his heart in her hands. It was the other way around, yet she wanted to feel so desperately like she was the one in control.
The morning was warm, but there were clouds in the sky that blocked it's rays from interfering with her sight. Her radio was broken again—so she just listened to the sounds of the island. It was peaceful—but when she began to smell the overwhelming stench of fish, she knew she was getting close to the marina. It was making her nostalgic to the point where she was getting emotional. The last time she worked at the marina was when she met Rafe. It was troublesome and invaded her bone marrow. She almost didn't remember it completely. Layne had a tendency to only remember the good parts—the good parts that were worthy of remembering. There were only so many to reflect on.
When she pulled into the parking lot of the marina, it was pretty much completely empty. She noticed a new Ram truck parked in Alberto's old spot. She assumed he saved up his money to buy it. Layne was surprised he wasn't retired yet. The seagulls were loud and she could hear the soft lull of Depeche Mode on his radio—she though he was a stereotypical fisherman who listened to Metallica or maybe Credence Clearwater Revival. She had a newfound respect for him.
When she knocked on the door of the small shed he was cooped up in, it took a few knocks before he stumbled over to the door and swung it open. He didn't seem to recognize her at first. He looked older and more jolly—his beer belly was hung over his belt and he had a thick red beard. He was balding, and his hair was almost completely gone. Layne never understood how men could be bald and still have a beard. It didn't sit right.
"Layne! Lord have mercy, you've gotten so big!" he pinched her cheeks as though he were an old lady. Layne wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear. She had horrible flashbacks to the men she would encounter at this marina as a child. She was a still child. Her childhood was stolen.
"Hey, Al . . ."
"I thought you weren't coming back to me this summer!" he exclaimed, pinching her chin as though she were a little girl again. Layne was slightly embarrassed, like she would've been when she was sixteen or seventeen—but she also felt bad for even thinking, for a moment, that she wouldn't work here again. She was too scared and ashamed to go back to the Wreck—she knew Kiara would look at her like she was someone to feel sorry for, like she was trying so hard to find a reason to not be mad at her. Layne knew the story all too well—she had lived it too many times.
"I just—I wanted to see if I could get my job back for this summer?" her voice was muffled as she tried to pull away from his grasp. He smiled his jolly smile and nodded at her, ruffling her hair. "Of course, sweetheart. I was so scared you weren't going to come back to me,"
Layne wavered for a moment, leaning against the doorframe. "You know I would never leave you," she joked, although she wasn't entirely kidding. She felt comforted with the notions of her past. It was like a warm hug—but, as usual, Layne felt suffocated. When she thought about it long enough, she wondered if she would ever leave Outer Banks. It was an idea that always seemed to haunt her—being stuck in this place forever. But it wasn't exactly daunting, or unappealing. Maybe she would become rich one day, and have children. She thought about her daughter allowing a boy to hurt her like she did too many times with Rafe. It made her sick to her stomach—maybe this was how her mother felt.
Alberto told her to start the upcoming Friday. If Layne was honest, she had forgotten what day it was—but, in the summer, it didn't really matter. At least, in her mind it didn't. She forgot she was an adult, and nearly twenty. She still felt like such an adolescent.
Only a few boats came in when she was there, filling out the paper work again. The summer prior felt like so long ago—like she was just a child. Layne hated feeling like she had aged ten years in one. She had only been home for a few days but it felt like an eternity. Layne wanted to feel like a child again—the few moments of her life where she was playing with Barbie's and hanging out the car windows as her dad drove through the Cut. When her and her mom would drive through Figure Eight and look at all the houses, picking which ones were their favorites, and imagining their lives if they were able to live lavishly. They'd end the day with ice cream and throwing bread to the birds in the parks, getting crickets and feeding them to the frogs—trying to pet the tadpoles and fishing off the dock just to throw them back into the water. Layne missed her life where she didn't have to worry about petty things. She didn't have to worry about Rafe and people figuring out about the pair of them, as if everybody didn't already know. She saw a tear drop onto the paper she was signing and she wiped it away, wiped away her face, wiped away Rafe.
"I'll see ya Friday, sweetheart," Alberto raised his hand to wave as she walked away, back to her Jeep. She sat for a moment. The life she didn't want to return to was sitting right in front of her. Layne needed to drink—she needed to smoke. Her head leant against the steering wheel and thought of the place she would most definitely find weed. The chateau. She felt like a teenager referring to it as such a name—also the fact that she was going to her sixteen year old friends for weed.
Layne had almost forgotten how to get to John B's house, given the last time she was there was nearly two years ago. Her mind had been so muddled with other stupid things that she had forgotten the kids she befriended all those years ago. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut before she looked around in her car. Her phone was sitting in the small place beneath the radio and when she fished it out to look for John B or JJ's number, she heard a buzzing within the radius of her car. There was a fucking bee.
"Shit." she breathed moving to roll down the passenger side window. She tried to swat it out, and squealed while crouching further into her seat. It zoomed over her head and she swung her hands around to try and get it out, and when she dropped her phone into the space between her seat and the center console, the bee finally left out the back left window and she rolled them up almost immediately. Layne didn't understand why she was so scared of bees—she lived in the Outer Banks of all places.
"Fuck." she sighed, looking at the space when her phone had fallen. There was shit all over her car, and Layne thought to herself, why the fuck don't I clean my car? It was obvious why not. She felt like she hadn't been sober or in her right mind since the night she came home—and even then, she wasn't sober. Layne leaned her head on her steering wheel again. She hated herself—she wished she could be someone else. Perhaps she would be happier if she never left college, or if she didn't live in the Outer Banks. This place was a never-ending labyrinth.
Her hand squeezed between the seat, and pried the phone out of the tight space it was lodged into. She remembered putting her wallet in the glove compartment, so she opened it and plucked it out, but when she went to look for the cash, it was missing. "Are you kidding me?" she muttered, throwing her wallet to the ground. Fucking Rafe. "What a piece of shit." she didn't believe herself when it came out of her mouth. Layne couldn't wrap her head around the idea that he would steal money from her—although it definitely wasn't the first time.
When Layne pulled up to the chateau, there was overwhelming feeling of guilt that surged in her stomach. She hadn't seen these kids, besides Kiara, in months, and the first time she comes to them is because he wants weed she can't even pay for.
The day was hot and sweaty, and she pulled her shirt away from her chest. The door to the house was unlocked, and Layne pushed it open. It was empty, although she heard voices carrying through the air. Layne knew they sounded familiar—JJ, John B and Kiara. No Pope, though. She wondered why Pope had called her in the first place.
When she walked outside, the three of them were swaying in a hammock, near the water, sharing a joint. The smell of weed wafted in the air and Layne so desperately wanted a hit she thought her head was going to explode. She wasn't sure if she was only craving to be high or drunk to erase the memories of last night, or that she could feel happy for a short while before she would fall back down from the euphoria. Layne decided it was a mixture of both.
They saw her coming, JJ and John B's faces lighting up, but Kiara only stared at Layne like she was something to be scared of. Layne knew she had let her, and her family down. She probably looked pathetic coming here after not showing up last night.
"Layne! You're alive!" John B called out, his arms stretching out to engulf her in a hug. He was sweaty and reeked of weed and gas. JJ had gotten up from his spot on the hammock as well, ruffling her hair and hugging her as well. "You follow the smell of weed everywhere, don't you?" he joked, although Layne knew it wasn't a joke. Most of the time she came over to the chateau was because she wanted some.
"You better explain yourself to me first." Kiara spoke up, and Layne's face went red. She felt so utterly stupid and her stomach was in so much pain from feeling so poorly. Although, she wasn't sure if the Wreck was really missing anything if she didn't come to work when she wasn't even working there yet. "Oh yeah I uh—I forgot to tell you that I'm working at the marina again." she didn't even look Kiara in the eye because she felt so bad. Layne believed she would rather die than be here for much longer.
"Can you guys spare an eighth?" she nodded her head toward the joint that was between JJ's fingers. He chuckled and looked at it, but realized she wasn't joking. "You're serious?" he quirked an eyebrow and Layne bit her lip. Kiara rolled her eyes. "We haven't seen you pretty much the entire year, and you only come here for weed?" Layne couldn't tell if they were mad at her or not—she couldn't entirely blame them. They were all on edge with her since she was sleeping with Rafe, but Layne didn't really notice. She still thought no one knew.
"Listen—I've had a pretty shitty past few days since I came back. I'm not doing well—I just need an eighth, alright, that's it."
Kiara looked her up at down. "Yeah I can tell. Have you lost weight?" Layne didn't answer her. She stared down at her wet shoes and blinked rapidly. Layne couldn't understand why that was even a question—or why everyone had been asking her that. Old her would've been happy with people noticing her weight loss, but now that it was happening, she hated it. It didn't feel good. None of this felt good—especially asking her sixteen year old friends for drugs. "I just need something." she whispered, and the three of them looked at each other and her. John B stared at her arm and touched the red marks on it. It looked like a hand. Layne had forgotten Rafe had touched her like that.
"What is that?" John B had wrapped his hand gently around her arm, beneath the mark, and moved it slightly. Layne winced and tried to pull away from him. "Shit. Who did that?" JJ furrowed his brows, and she shook her head. "It's nothing. Happened while surfing."
"What, you got stung?"
"Something like that."
There was awkward beat of silence and Layne finally was able to pull her arm away from John B. It was clear they didn't believe her. John B looked as though he felt guilty. "I uh—I don't got anything for you. Smoked the last of it." Layne felt her stomach pool into her shoes. She had come here and embarrassed herself for no reason. She felt like such an idiot.
"Oh. Uh—okay," Layne looked around for a moment and then itched the back of her neck. "Sorry for bothering you guys. I should probably leave." JJ and John B shook their heads, but Kiara didn't say anything. "Is that seriously the only reason why you came over?" JJ muttered, almost sounding like he was upset. Layne wasn't sure if she had ever seen JJ upset before. Layne didn't say anything and just turned on her heel to leave. "Say hi to Rafe for us!" JJ yelled out after her—he was bitter. More mad than anything. Layne couldn't blame him—she couldn't blame any of them. It was her fault. Everything was. She was too caught up in her own self pity that she didn't even realize the weight of what JJ had said.
She got in her car and drove back home. She had the overwhelming urge to cry but nothing came out when she tried. She figured she would lay in her bed until Rafe called her—if he ever did. Her phone was bone dry as though she didn't exist. Her parents were at the shop by now and Layne wondered if she should stop by. But opting to rotting in her room seemed more tangible and much more appealing than having to be face-to-face with her parents. Being face-to-face with anyone but Rafe seemed to be entirely too difficult.
Layne had already showered but she still felt as though she needed another one. Rafe hadn't texted or even called her yet, however Layne was still adamant on waiting. She even turned her ringer on to make sure she wouldn't miss a call when it came her way. Her duvet was over her head as she listened to the sounds of nature and the marsh outside her window. It was like she was melting into her bed for hours. Every notification she would flip her phone around to see who it was—it was either from one of her friends, email, or a random app she had installed on her phone that she had forgotten to turn notifications off for. Her cat was stretching across her bed and curled up by her head, but Layne still kept herself trapped beneath the sheets that made her sweat in the night. She had her one foot poked out to keep her cool but it hardly worked.
She finally got a call from Rafe, and she shot up from her bed to answer it. It only rang twice before she brought it to her ear. "Hello?" she muttered, having to clear her throat in order to get a normal voice. "Hey. Sorry to ditch you again last night. My head is kinda like—fucked up."
Layne smiled. She didn't care as long as he was talking to her. "It's okay. I just wished you would've stayed for a little longer." it was the truth but not the whole truth. Layne wanted him to tuck her into bed and wrap his arms around her until she fell asleep. She wanted him to not touch her when she didn't want him to, when she said no, or get violent with her when he was high and mad. Layne hated that she loved him so much.
"Me too babe."
There was a beat of silence and Rafe released a heavy breath on the other end. "I heard there's a party tonight—at Marcus's." he didn't answer for a moment and Layne thought he hung up. "Shit. Yeah. Are you going to that?"
"Uh—yeah. I figured you'd want me to. Plus my friends want to go—"
He interrupted her. "Nah . . . you probably shouldn't go. I mean like, it's a kook party. Plus Marcus doesn't want you there."
Layne thought she was going to throw up. She couldn't understand why he always did this to her. "He said that?" her voice cracked and she wanted to curse to herself but kept quiet.
"No but like, I can just tell, you know?"
"What about Marian and Claudia?"
"They probably fucked him or something to get an invite." he laughed, but she didn't. He often thought he was funny when he so obviously wasn't. Layne didn't think he was very funny at all but she couldn't tell if he was joking. "Can't I just be your plus one? I mean, it's not like everyone showing up was exactly invited."
Rafe sighed again and it was like a dagger to her chest and she couldn't stop the bleeding. "Nah . . . that wouldn't be right. People would talk."
"Talk about what?"
"Us. We can't have people talking about us, y'know?"
Layne furrowed her brows and almost had the urge to hang up on him, but her phone was like a magnet to her ear. "It's not like nobody knows." he was silent for a little while and she could practically hear him swallowing. "Okay. I gotta go. Come if you want . . . whatever." he hung up and she still kept her phone to her ear as though he was still on the other line. Layne always felt pathetic doing things after he told her not to, almost as though he was going to punish her or break up with her. She knew she would never be strong enough to break up with him, but knew he wasn't scared of anything.
Layne decided she would try and sleep before the party, but only fell asleep for fifteen minutes before she woke up in a cold sweat thinking about Rafe. So she walked to the kitchen and looked through her dads liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of vodka, pouring herself a shot and downing it. There was still a few hours until the party but Layne couldn't be sober anymore. The lack of food in her stomach meant all the alcohol went straight to her head and she found herself slumped over in the kitchen after three shots.
She perked her head up when it was nearly 9:30 and she hadn't gotten a single text from Marian, Claudia, or Rafe. Layne felt abandoned, almost as thought no one wanted her there. If she wasn't teetering on being drunk, she would've stayed home, but she had multiple drinks in her and decided that riding her bike all the way to Figure Eight was the most tangible option. She didn't even know where Marcus lived—she figured she would ride around until she found a party.
Her bike was in the shed, and it was rusting and old. It creaked when she moved the handlebars and the basket was falling off. All it needed was WD40, but Layne was too drunk to search for it in her dads tools, so she decided to try and ride her bike that was nearly falling apart and try to pedal through main roads and weave through Figure Eight streets.
Layne almost swerved in front a few cars as they pulled into their driveways and turned at green lights. She had rode a bike while drunk, even driven a car, but for some reason today felt different. When she got to Figure Eight, she drove to where the music was playing. There were cars parking all along the curb with teenagers sprawled on the front lawn and making out on the roof. Layne hardly realized she was riding into the curb until she fell into the bush and hit her head on the driveway. "Shit." she muttered, as some people stared at her. She looked like an idiot. She was wearing oversized clothes that made her look as though she was trying hard to make everyone look at her.
The house was nice—nicer than Rafe's. (She hadn't been in his house many times but it seemed as though it would be.) There were kids everywhere, hanging off the railings, making out on the stair case and snorting coke in the living room. She saw Rafe from a distance and he was sitting next to some blonde who was handing him a wad of cash. He had his arm behind her on the couch. It was around her, but Layne still got jealous. Rafe liked when she was jealous and would probably coerce her into sleeping with him later even though she was drunk.
He didn't see her yet, and Layne didn't see either Marian or Claudia, so she walked over to where someone had hidden a case of seltzers behind a bunch of jackets and a backpack. Layne wasn't a huge fan of seltzers but it was alcohol, so it was good enough. She had finished one can in about ten minutes, and then went to find more to drink—luckily she hadn't encountered either Rafe, Marian or Claudia yet, meaning she could actually let herself feel slightly off-edge for once.
A boy had started talking to her, who didn't look like he belonged with the other kooks. Almost as if he was a pogue, like her. Layne didn't like the class separating terms but at parties it was almost completely necessary in order to identify one another and keep herself sane. She was never allowed to get drunk at parties—whether it was because she was the designated driver, or because Rafe wouldn't let her. It felt nice to be able to talk to people without feeling like they were constantly judging her. Although, the following morning she knew she would be consumed with the irreversible regret of every little thing she had said to anyone.
A song played that she couldn't remember the name to, but the beat made her close her eyes and hum, dancing slightly with the (semi) pogue boy. He had leaned in and told her how hot she was, and Layne only hummed in response when he tried to kiss her. She swerved it and pressed her face into his shoulder.
"I would do anything to fuck you." he muttered, and she only rolled her eyes and laughed. "Thanks. But no. Rafe wouldn't like that." she slurred, pressing her index finger to his lips. He almost turned red like he was scared, and Layne didn't understand why. "Shit, you're Rafe's girl?" he stiffened up almost like he sobered up. "Kinda. He likes fucking me but doesn't want anyone to know. Romantic, right?" she was only partly sarcastic. The boy didn't answer and Layne didn't remember his name.
She turned her head and saw Rafe in the kitchen, not too far away from them. It wasn't obvious if he had seen them or not—part of Layne wanted him to see them. She turned to the boy and placed her hand on his chest. "You want to get a drink with me?" she didn't want for him to answer before she dragged him by the wrist toward the kitchen and where some bottles of hard liquor were alongside some plastic solo cups. Rafe was snorting coke off the counter tops when she grabbed two solo cups and poured them each a shot of tequila. Kelce had nudged Rafe in the side and nodded toward her, as both her and the boy downed the shots. Rafe grit his teeth, still trying to get over the initial shock of the line before rubbing his nose and the bit of blood that followed.
"Ain't that your girl?" Kelce muttered, and they both watched as Layne rubbed her hands around the guys shoulders and abdomen—like she did to Rafe. "Don't fucking say that shit again." Rafe threatened, not even looking Kelce in the eye. "Huh?"
"I don't want anyone knowing about that shit, okay?" it was too loud for Layne to hear.
"You really think nobody knows?"
Rafe, for some odd reason, felt an immense amount of sorrow for Layne in that minute. Perhaps she was right about everyone knowing—even though he had shut her down and told her not to come with him, because he feared everyone knowing. He feared everyone knowing that he was sleeping with a pogue and actually liked her, too. People talked. That was why. He didn't want people talking.
He was able to keep it together until Layne touched the boys crotch, and they were about to kiss. He didn't want her talking to other boys—it made him so mad he thought he could even hit the boy, and her. But he clenched his fists and watched as everyone stared at her, and then at him, laughing and whispering. They were all whispering to each other and it was so loud in his ears it was as though they were screaming. She was a slut. A fucking whore. How could she stand there, acting like that, in front of everyone? In front of him? Who did she think she was?
Rafe walked up and grabbed her harshly by the forearm, dragging her away. Layne began to laugh and the boy's face went red. Everyone watched as they stormed away and Rafe walked out of the house, holding her arm so hard that it was going to leave a bruise. He was so mad his face was red and sweaty. "Stop fucking touching me like that." she hit him in the arm, and the shoulder, and they neared his car. He turned his face and she slapped him, by accident. Layne swore she sobered up by the look in his eyes as he grabbed her harshly by the hair and wrapped his hand around her throat.
"You're such a fucking whore, you know that? I tell you not to fucking come because all you're going to do is embarrass yourself. That's exactly what you fucking did, and you embarrassed me too," Layne was finding it hard to breathe, and his grip on her hair was so tight that she was sure he could rip it out if he wanted to. "Did you want him to fuck you, huh? I bet you did. Huh?" he loosened his grip on her throat but tossed her head slightly with his grip on her hair. Layne began to tear up and wanted to sob, but she didn't have enough air. "Fucking slut." he let go of her throat, and pushed her head away, toward the rear end of his car. She stumbled over her feet and leaned onto the car, trying to regain her breath. Her eyes felt like they were bulging out of her head, and Rafe slammed the drivers door so hard the car shook, and it felt as though the ground shook, too.
"Get in the fucking car." Rafe ordered through the rolled down window, and Layne staggered to the passenger side door, scared he might kill her if she said no. Layne was shaking so bad she could hardly pull the handle open. She sat down in the seat and it felt like pins and needles against her, the leather so cold it was like it was scraping her skin. She shook like a leaf as though she had gotten doused in water. He grunted as he turned on the car and backed out of the driveway, speeding down the street toward his own house.
"You were right. Everyone knows about us." Layne didn't answer him, and only stared out the window crying silently. Only staring at her and the road, Rafe couldn't bring himself to make himself feel guilty. Layne knew she couldn't change him. She didn't understand why she still loved him so much even though he was so unfixable—she couldn't break through his world. He would never change. "I just wanted to protect you. You know that. I would never hurt you unless I needed to, okay?" he placed his hand on her thigh and she shuddered, too frozen to inch away from him. Layne was completely sober at this point—the only sickly feeling in her stomach was from Rafe and Rafe only.
"You need me. You need me to protect you—I'm the only one who can make you feel good, you know that? You're the only one who can make me feel good. I love you, Layne."
His words felt like poison—as though they were fabricated and only used to make her less scared of him. Layne felt fake in his hands, as though he could do anything he wanted to her and she wouldn't care as long as he was doing something to her. She couldn't stop herself from wanting him so completely that it made her vibrate.
When they arrived at his house, it was hardly illuminated. Layne hadn't even realized how late it was, and she hadn't texted her parents that she was going out. Her brain was too fuzzy and her limbs were too heavy to do anything and Rafe had to help her out of the car. Layne was scared of his touch when he lifted her up, almost as though he was hurt her even more just by touching her softly. He opened the front door and helped her through the threshold and up to his room. Layne was only a bit intoxicated still, but he treated her like a doll earlier that she was beginning to feel like one. Rafe helped her onto his bed and they started to kiss. Layne's brain was so fuzzy she couldn't even react properly when he asked her to get on her hands and knees. She only shoved her face into his pillow and there were tear and mascara marks left over.
Slipping back into her underwear, Layne slumped into his mattress and he pulled the blanket over her naked body. She fell asleep almost instantly, even through the overwhelming feeling of needing to throw up.
The following morning, she woke up and ran to his bathroom to vomit. He hardly even budged in his sleep. Layne got up from the cold tile floor and stared at her naked self in the mirror and cried at the bruise forming on her neck and arms. She was still dazed from the previous and night and wanted to vomit more thinking about it. Quietly walking back into his room, Layne slipped on her pants and grabbed one of his shirts since she couldn't find her own. She couldn't find her socks and put on her Converse with no socks.
"I'll see you later, Rafe." she whispered, and he stirred slightly in response. She kissed his temple and walked quietly through the house and down the spiraling staircase. Layne was in awe of how gorgeous the house was. Her excitement was short lived before she saw Ward, Rafe's father, standing by the door.
"Good morning." his smile was almost taunting, as though he was trying to see how breakable she was. Just like his son. Layne only smiled in return.
"I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to spend the night." Again, she couldn't tell whether he was being condescending or not. "I was just going to leave." she pointed to the door, but didn't think of how she was going to get home.
"Would you like a ride?"
Layne thought about it for a moment and wondered what his dad would do if he found out his son was slumming it with a pogue. "I uh—I should be fine to walk home. I don't live far from here." It wasn't entirely a lie—however, it wasn't as close as she was letting on.
The morning was warm but not as warm as the previous morning. There were some landscapers and gardeners that stared at her as she walked by and Layne thought about greeting them, but opted against it. Her feet hurt and she just stared ahead as she walked. It took around twenty minutes to get back home, and she quietly opened the door. The house was still dark and she hoped she was able to sneak back in without either of her parents noticing.
Suddenly a light went on and her mother quickly entered the room. Layne jumped and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jesus, you scared me." she whispered, placing a hand to her chest. Rory scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I scared you?"
"I know, I should have called."
"Where have you been? We agreed that you would start letting me know when you were running off. I am still your mother, Layne. I would like to know when you are going to disappear all day."
Layne sighed and closed her eyes. "I went to a party while you and dad were still at the store—I just forgot to text. I didn't think it would be a big deal."
"You didn't think to call and let me know? After everything we had talked about the other day?" Rory sounded as though she was going to cry. Layne felt as though she would too, for many different reasons. "I didn't realize how late it was. I was drinking—and just decided it would be best to spend the night over Marian's, okay? I'm sorry, mom. What more do you want?" Layne moved to walk past her, and Rory stared at her clothes.
"Hey, wait. Whose shirt is that?"
Layne stared down at the long polo shirt that reached her knees and the sleeves that reached her elbows. Layne swallowed and stared at Rory. "Rafe's."
"Rafe's. So is Rafe your boyfriend now?" Layne pondered the question for herself, too. He claimed to love her. He did not act like a boyfriend—he was not capable of being a boyfriend. Layne sometimes wondered if she could kill him if she tried. Layne shook her head to prevent herself from crying. "What? No. I just—spilled something on my shirt, so he gave me one of his. It's not a big deal." Layne tried to walk away, but Rory didn't seem to give up.
"Layne," she called out, her voice shaking. Layne turned around and threw her hands up, annoyed. "What?"
"Why do you have bruises on your neck and arms?" Rory looked at her as though she knew, but Layne knew her mom would never know. How could she? Layne was on the verge of tears and she wished she could break down and cry and tell her mom everything. But she couldn't, because she knew her mom would stop her from seeing Rafe. Layne could never live with herself without him. "I just got roughed up surfing." she kept trying to walk away.
"Layne. Layne." her mom repeated, softly placing her hand on her cheek. "You can talk to me," Rory saw the fear in Layne's eyes but didn't know what caused it. "You can talk to me. About whatever happened." she stared at her daughter as though she could see through her. Layne knew she couldn't. "Nothing happened."
"Layne."
"Nothing. Happened." she sniffed away the tears on the brims of her eyes. "Can I please go?" her mom blinked slowly and Layne walked away and closed her door behind her, flopping down on her bed and crying herself to sleep.
authors note: hiiiiiii. i finally updated this book after FOREVERRRRRRR but yeah! hope you guys liked it!