Chapter One-
It wasn't until junior year that I finally made a couple of friends.
Naturally, since Derek hated me with a blinding passion he just had to be someone cool that everyone else looked up to. He acted like he didn't care about his popularity but there was no denying that he had it. Derek was unlike anyone I had ever met before, but after observing him in school—with his somewhat quiet demeanor, his brooding silences, the way girls would stop what they were doing to watch him walk by and sigh a little—I realized that it somehow seemed familiar to me.
One night I was reading back in my mother's journals, as I did quite often, and I found the passage I was thinking about.
It drives me crazy the way everyone respects Mike, looks up to him. For no reason! He doesn't even have to try, he's just somehow so cool that every girl thinks he's sexy, every guy looks up to him and wants to be like him. His very attention seems to be coveted, and everybody talks about Mike with the utmost respect, even when he isn't around.
He was teasing me today, and like always, he playfully accused me of doing something dirty that I didn't do—I was just getting ice. Then he remarked, "Aw, I'll tell everybody. I'll be like, 'Yeah, you think she's so bookish and innocent, do you know what she did to me back there?'"
I wasn't really irritated, because even though reminders that he still thinks of me that way are a bit painful, I'm still glad he does. Instead I simply smiled and replied, "You can't do that. I didn't do anything."
"I know," he replied, giving me that smile with those twinkling blue eyes of his. "But if I tell them you did, they'll all believe me."
And the worst part is, it's completely true. He could tell everyone, "Hey, we had sex in the break room," and I could deny it until my face turned blue, but they would still believe him over me. And it would be entirely my fault that he cheated on his girlfriend, because for some reason, Mike can do no wrong in anybody's eyes. He's invincible.
Honestly, it's kind of annoying...
I could sympathize with her plight; Derek seemed to be gifted with the same charismatic invincibility his father had. If Derek hated me, everyone else would follow suit.
In the beginning of my junior year, however, I met a different kind of boy named Andy. He was a little taller than me with light brown hair and warm brown eyes, but more importantly, he was an incredibly nice boy. Whether he didn't realize that I was supposed to be avoided like the plague, or he just didn't care, Andy sat next to me in several classes, and when we had to partner up in chemistry –partner projects being something I had always dreaded, since I always had to search for a partner longer than everyone else—he never even asked anyone else, just came over to me and asked me to be his partner.
As the year passed, I did begin to notice that Andy liked me as more than a friend. When he finally got up the nerve to ask me out, I replied, "Are you sure?"
I wasn't at all attracted to Andy. I was never romantically interested in him at all, even to the tiniest degree, and at first I couldn't imagine kissing him, because he was just so good and pure; I felt like I would soil him. Andy went to church every Wednesday and Sunday, he donated 10 percent of his paychecks to charity, he was close to his mother and father (they were still happily married), and he would actually do things like escort elderly ladies to the bank or the grocery store; one time I actually saw him help an old woman cross the street.
He was perfect, but I felt nothing for him; I simply enjoyed having someone who didn't hate me, and it helped knowing that that person was safe.
That was the main reason I liked dating Andy.
My mother had taught me that passion was pain. I knew she couldn't see it, because she was blinded by her love for Mike, but as I read her journals over the years, I found it easy to spot her mistakes, and I promised myself I would never repeat them. Yes, my mother and Mike had passion, desire, those dark, appealing emotions everybody thinks they want, but I knew those feelings were like poison, seeping into every part of your life, slowly killing you as they did my mother.
I knew I would never allow myself to want someone so much that it seeped into my very soul, that he became my obsession.
So I dated Andy, and although I was surprised, I was kind of happy that he never even tried to kiss me through our whole junior year. He would touch me on the arm or affectionately around the waist, but whenever he would give me an affectionate squeeze, I would always recoil, remembering very clearly that my mother had said that was one of her favorite things Mike did to show his affection for her.
Any hint of affection was unwelcome, although Andy didn't seem to realize this. But at least I knew he would never hurt me—he didn't have the ability to. He was convenient, and if he woke up one day and decided he didn't want to be with me, I would only be sad because I would no longer have a partner in chemistry or someone to sit with at lunch. Since I had lived my life as a loner, I knew I’d be fine.
My only other friend was a pretty blonde girl named Stephanie Miller, who was friends with most of Derek's friends, so she would have been one of the last people whose friendship I might have hoped to gain.
Circumstances threw us together when near the end of my junior year, Alex lost his job and while he looked for a new one, he asked me to find one too until he got settled into a new one. I applied everywhere in town except for Burger King, because I knew Mike had made it to assistant manager there, and I certainly couldn't work under him.
Wendy's ended up calling me back, and coincidentally, Stephanie worked there. We started talking at work and occasionally hanging out afterwards, then she even started talking to me in school. Before long she became my best friend, and she considered me a good friend, although her best friend spot was reserved for some other girl named Kayla, also in Derek's little crowd (although if you asked him, he would completely deny having a "crowd" at all).
That ended up being pretty much the best summer of my adolescent life. I had friends and I liked working because I liked bringing in money, and Alex ended up getting another job, so we had two incomes between us.
Over the summer I tried to pick up more hours at Wendy's. Alex told me he would give me $100 toward getting myself a car, and I could save the rest. Personally, I had no use for a car since Andy took me everywhere, and if he couldn't I used Alex's car or walked. But I was reluctant to pass up money, so I asked if I could save the money for my post high school plans instead, whatever those turned out to be. Alex agreed, so I opened up a savings account.
When the end of August rolled around, I wasn't excited to return to school. Going back to school for me just meant less money and more misery. At least I would be a senior, so I would never have to go back again.
Shortly after school started, I ended up making the stupidest decision of my life.
One day on the way to class Stephanie told me that her parents were going out of town, and she wanted to have a party since that's what you were supposed to do when your parents left you the house to yourself, but she didn't want the house to be trashed.
"Aw, don't worry," I assured her. "We'll only invite a few of Hell's Angels, and we'll cut back to two kegs, so you know we'll be good to go."
"Will you come?" Steph asked.
"Of course I will, as long as you're not afraid I might scare off your other guests."
She smiled. "If you would scare them off, I don't want them there anyway." But then she seemed to think of something, and she frowned a little. "Oh."
"What?" I asked, glancing over at her.
"Well... you know I would invite Kayla, of course..." she began.
"Of course," I acknowledged, not quite seeing the problem.
"Well, Kayla sort of just started seeing Derek, and I know she would expect me to invite him..."
"Ah," I say with a nod, finally seeing the predicament.
"Yeah," she said, watching me.
"Well, we could probably manage to be in the same house for an hour or so. I don't know, honestly, he's the one you would have to ask, he's the one with the problem."
"He may not even show," she reasoned. "He usually blows things like this off."
"Especially once he finds out I'll be there," I added with a nod.
Steph decided to have the party, and she told me I could invite Andy, but I knew before I asked him that he wouldn't be interested. There would be alcohol for sure, possibly even a little bit of weed, and Andy didn't go for parties like that. Honestly, he probably didn't even approve of me going, he just knew better than to say so.
My own father was the one who agreed to get the alcohol for us as long as we gave him the money. He wasn't very parental in general, but since he had had started drinking much younger than we were, it didn't seem to bother him. In fact, he’d always found it a little strange—and I suspect he didn't actually believe me—when I claimed I had never had alcohol before. I hadn't, but Steph asked me while we were planning the party if I would have a couple drinks with her at the party since I was staying the night anyway. Since I had never tried it and it seemed safe enough, I agreed.
The night of the party rolled around before we knew it. We were both excited as we set up bowls of chips, dips, cheese, crackers and other assorted snack foods. In an attempt to keep her house unbroken, we decided to put away anything valuable or breakable before anyone else got there, and Steph set up the guest room for me.
Of course Derek Noble arrived with his friend rather than Kayla, and he decided to show up an hour late, because he was just that special.
Kayla arrived on time, so as soon as Derek got there she went running over to his side, her white and silver strapless top flattering her fake-tanned skin and her dark brown hair, which fell straight down her back like a waterfall.
I had to admit, as much as I disliked Derek—and didn't truly care much for Kayla either—they made a beautiful couple.
By the time Derek got there I had already finished two drinks, so I was pretty happy with the world; even his presence didn't bother me. He seemed a little let down when he came over to sarcastically say, "Hi, Nikki," knowing that it annoyed me, and I simply smiled, held up my bottle and said pleasantly, "Hi, Derek. Enjoying the party?"
He frowned at me, as if my pleasant attitude had ruined his mood, and murmured, "No, but I will be once I've had a drink."
As the night passed by I had two more drinks, and by the time I finished those and whatever shot that last kid convinced me to try, I could barely stand up, let alone walk straight.
Poor Andy called, but I didn't notice until I felt my phone vibrate later alerting me of a missed the call. He was definitely in bed by the time I got it, so I didn't bother calling back.
The party started to wind down, and I told everyone with a giggle that I thought it was time for me to begin my dangerous trek up the stairs, but someone shoved a drink into my hand, telling me I hadn't finished it. I thought I had finished my last drink, but I took their word for it, taking the drink and not even realizing it was Derek who handed it to me.
I might not have noticed anyway, because for the first time ever, he was being nice to me.
When I finished that half empty bottle, I couldn't even make it over to the garbage can to throw the bottle away. I tried, but I fell, and luckily Derek was there to come to my rescue and pick me back up, throwing the bottle away for me and gently guiding me toward the stairs as I laughed at nothing.
"Mm, you know, you're nice," I told him pleasantly, leaning against him so he would support some of my weight.
"Oh yeah, I'm a regular boy scout," he responded, wrapping his arm around my waist.
For some stupid reason, this made me giggle.
“Watch your step,” he advised as we approached the top of the stair case.
I thought it was awfully nice of him to walk me right to my door, and being a bold, outspoken drunk, I had no problem telling him so. I helped him find my guest bedroom, opened the door, and thanked him again for helping me up the stairs, but he just put his hand on the small of my back and prompted me to walk inside.
"I think I can take it from here," I said with a little wink.
The door closed behind him with a decisive click.
After watching him lock the door, I simply flopped down on the bed and made some ridiculous remark about how limber I was when I was drunk. To demonstrate, I raised my leg up and put my foot behind my ear, then I giggled, dropping my foot, and just stared up at the ceiling, feeling absurdly happy for no apparent reason.
Derek smiled, taking a seat beside me on the bed.
When I think of this night, I only allow myself to think past that moment as a blur. A big, drunken blur. I do remember much of it, but don’t relish admitting that.
I remember that although I'm not sure how or when I got off the bed, I did. For some reason I had the overwhelming desire to dance, to let loose, and I did, even though there was no music. My dancing was only for him, and I know I ended up in his lap, because I remember sitting there, taking out his pony tail, telling him that his hair was sexy as I ran my fingers through his golden locks.
The only thing I admitted to remembering was waking up in the middle of the night, completely naked in the bed, and realizing I sure as hell wasn't alone. I rolled over to look in horror at Derek, who was lying there awake, his head propped up on his elbow.
"Oh no," I said.
A smile slowly spread across his face and his blue eyes twinkled. "Oh yes," he countered.
"Oh no," I groaned, hiding my face in my hands.
"Oh yes," he mocked, lazily reaching a hand over to give me a little caress.
I smacked his hand away immediately. "Don't touch me."
He shrugged, withdrawing his hand. "Too late," he replied simply.
"There's some other explanation for us lying here... naked... together, and I just had a crazy dream, right?"
"Nope. Pretty much the only reason is that we had sex," he replied.
"We don’t even like each other," I said miserably, closing my eyes. "Why?"
"Well, I brought you up here and you started dancing provocatively and sitting in my lap, then you did a little striptease for me—"
"I did not!" I cried, the alcohol haze blocking that from my memory.
"Oh, if you don't believe me, I have proof," he said, his smile worryingly cocky.
I swallowed, a feeling of unease settling in my stomach as I imagined a hickey or some other form of reminder of that night. "What do you mean, you have proof?"
His smile widened. "Well, Nikki, I taped you."
"You taped me?" I repeated in disbelief, my brow furrowing.
"Yeah. I even asked if I could first just to be a gentleman. Actually, you were pretty into it. You're definitely a freak in the sheets," he said, reaching over and tracing a line down my chest, my stomach, lower until I grabbed his hand and glared at him.
"Don't even think about it," I stated, his comment angering me even more.
"Now, now, now, is that any way to talk to the guy who has a very inappropriate video of you? I mean, if I wanted to, I could share this video with everyone."
"I don't believe you," I told him. "I want to see it."
"Do I look that stupid?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied without hesitation.
That caused him to chuckle. "Well, I guess looks can be deceiving.”
I realized then that I didn't have to put up with him, that he was in Stephanie's house and I could kick him out. "You know what, I don't need this; get out of my bed and get out my room."
"Not until we've decided when we'll do this again."
"Oh, right," I said brightly. "Try never."
"Not what you were saying last night," he stated.
“I had drunk-goggles on last night; I probably would have hooked up with a couch if it asked nicely. Regardless, this was a mistake, and it isn’t going to happen again.”
"Wrong," he replied, as if it was his decision.
I scowled at him. “Why would you even want to? You hate me!" I reminded him.
"That may be so," he agreed, "but you're still damn good in bed. I wouldn't believe this was your first time if I wouldn't have seen the evidence myself."
“Ugh,” I covered my face with my hands for a moment. “No. You're with Kayla," I stated, ignoring the rest of his comment.
"I've gone out with her a couple times, we’re not married. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I don't care what or who you're doing in the meantime, just like you don't get to care what or who I'm doing in my spare time. This isn’t a relationship. We don't care about each other, we don't even like each other—"
"Damn right," I said, cutting off his insulting speech, "and you've got me mistaken if you think I'm ever doing this with you again."
"Okay," he said, rolling off the bed.
Immediately suspicious that he let it go that easily, I covered myself with the blanket and sat down. "You... don't care?" I asked.
"No," he said, picking his boxers up off the floor. "If you want everyone to see exactly what you did last night, that's no problem. You never know, you might have a future in the porn career, this can get you going. I mean, yeah, it's going to give you one hell of a reputation, but I guess that doesn't concern you." He paused thoughtfully as he pulled on his jeans. "I think I do have some footage of you giving me head, too. Won't that be nice? Every time somebody looks at you they'll imagine you with my dick in your mouth."
I felt my stomach sink, and I realized he probably did hate me enough to do exactly what he was threatening. Yet I couldn't bring myself to say anything. He pulled his shirt on and was headed toward the door before I finally said, "Derek, wait."
He paused, glancing back at me over his shoulder. "Yes?"
"You aren't really going to do that, are you?"
"Oh, I will, Nikki. Don't doubt that."
"You can't," I said frantically. "Don't just think about hurting me, Derek, think of all the other people you'll hurt."
He turned toward me, his eyes narrowing as he sneered. "Aw, imagine, a Harmon girl thinking about how her actions might hurt someone else."
I had to ignore that subtle insult to my mother, because I had to appeal to his humanity. "Think of Kayla."
"Don't care," he said.
"And I…I have a boyfriend, he will be devastated and humiliated beyond belief if you do that."
"I care even less about that," he said, turning back around and placing his hand on the door knob. "See you Monday at school."
I jumped out of the bed, dragging the blanket with me and made a desperate grab at his shoulder. "Derek, come on. If you have any decency in you at all, will you please... compromise with me or something."
"Nikki, the whole point of having the Trump card is so that you don't have to compromise. I told you my terms, if you’re not cool with it, that's okay; it'll probably be more entertaining to ruin your reputation anyway."
I briefly remembered how I felt back in the trailer park when I had my undeserved bad reputation, and the thought of how much worse it would be in high school made me shudder, imagining the comments people would call out to me, the fact that Stephanie would probably stop talking to me, the look of devastation on Andy's face when he found out.
I swallowed. "What, specifically, are you asking me for? If I... have sex with you again, will you give me the tape or whatever it is you claim to have?"
"No, I'll be keeping the recording."
I scowled at him. "You can't do that! How do I know that you won't just show the tape to everyone after you sleep with me?"
"As long as we're sleeping together, you'll just have to take my word for it."
I shook my head. "No way. For all I know—If you're just going to keep the video, you could make me sell myself to you for the rest of my life."
"Don't flatter yourself," he said dismissively. "I'm sure I'll get tired of you within the month, and once I'm done with you I will let you destroy the evidence, that way I can't show anybody."
I could still do nothing but shake my head, completely disbelieving that this could be happening to me, that even Derek could be so cruel. "This is blackmail, you know," I informed him.
"I suppose it is," he said with a nod.
“That's illegal," I added. “Plus I’m a minor; even with my permission, you’re not allowed to make a pornographic video of me. Everything you’re doing right now is highly illegal.”
"So is smoking weed, but I still do that from time to time."
I couldn't keep from wrinkling my nose up in disgust and muttering, "I guess the rotten apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
This comment seemed to shorten his patience, and he said, "I have better places to be right now, Nikki. Do you accept my terms or not?"
My mind raced, trying to think of some other way, of some other offer I might be able to give him, but my mind drew a blank. "I…what is it you want, exactly? Just a little sex slave, available at your beck and call?" I asked disdainfully.
Derek pretended to think for a moment, then he said, "Sounds good to me."
"You are despicable," I spat.
He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned with my opinion of him. "Maybe, but I'm not the one who cheated on my oh-so-devoted boyfriend with my worst enemy tonight."
My shoulders slumped and I realized with a sinking heart that he was right. He was disgusting and cruel, but I wasn't much better.
Poor Andy.
Without realizing it, I said aloud, "I am such a whore."
"Yeah," he drawled, nodding his head at me. "But hey, at least now we know it is hereditary."
My eyes narrowed, my blood simmered and I went to lunge at him, planning to give him a few scratches to explain to Kayla, but he already guessed my intentions so he quickly slipped out the door and held onto the door knob so I couldn't even twist it open. I growled angrily and released the knob, turning away from the door and looking at the disheveled bed.
My shoulders slumped again, and I thought about what had happened in that bed. Bits and pieces kept floating into my mind, images of him above me, his hair falling down into my face, me smiling as I tangled my hands into it and pulled, causing him to growl and thrust harder.
"Oh God," I muttered, sinking down onto the floor and hiding my face in my hands. "I'm never drinking again."