EVERYTHING’S GOING TO BE OKAY.
It’s taken me a while to get to this point, but I know it’s the truth. I’m finally feeling lighter, laughing and dancing with Skyler to an old 90s hip hop song as I celebrate the end of another semester. We’re on the brink of summer, and in just a couple of weeks I’ll be on my way home to spend time with Clayton.
Shawna hurt me, I can’t deny that. I won’t act like I’m too tough to be affected by a girl. The truth is, I cared about her—a lot. But at the end of the day, I look out for number one—me. So, I let her go that night in the rain, and this summer, I’ll focus on my family and come back to PSU regrouped, centered, and ready to take on whatever new challenges may come.
“Shit, Bear,” Skyler says, grabbing my arm. “You’re bleeding.” She holds up my fist where the cuts from Alex have split open.
“Fuck,” I murmur, pressing my other hand over the wounds. “Be right back.”
I weave through the crowded dance floor and head straight for the bathroom, pushing the door open with my back and flipping the water on with my elbow before submerging my hand under the faucet. When the blood flow is under control, I wrap a paper towel around my knuckles and apply pressure, the stinging a reminder of the trouble I caused by fighting Alex.
Omega Chi has been under watch for a while now. It’s one thing to party hard, but to get busted for the website and then put the kid responsible for it in the hospital? That’s something nationals won’t tolerate, even if the little bastard did deserve every hit.
I was called into a conference call with Alec, several other alumni brothers and the president of our national chapter earlier this week. I’ve never really taken anything they said seriously before now, but they all made it clear that this is it—we’re on our last chance. One more strike, and we’re out. They told me to take the summer to cool off and figure out what’s important to Omega Chi as an organization. Matt just handed over the presidency to my Little’s close friend, Taylor, and as much as I like him as a beer pong partner, I’m worried about him as president. I hope we can team up to get our fraternity back in line, but I’ll worry more about that later. Tonight, I’m going to dance with my best friend and take shots and say goodbye to spring semester.
One of the workers with the plantation helps me find gauze and we wrap my knuckles before I make my way back toward the ballroom. A loud burst of laughter from down the hall catches my attention on the way and I slow, watching as Landon and two of his Mu Beta Chi brothers exit a room at the far end. His brothers share a high five as Landon takes a long pull from his flask, checking over his shoulder for something in the room they just exited. When another brother joins them, sweat on his forehead, hands adjusting his dress shirt back into his pants, my stomach drops.
Something isn’t right.
Landon sniffs, eyes catching mine just briefly before he nods toward the exit and his brothers follow quickly. Before I know what I’m doing, I let my feet carry me toward the room. Every step feels weighted, slow, like I’m walking through quicksand. My heart is hammering in my ears, adrenaline coursing through my veins and telling me I should walk away. Those primal instincts deep within me are screaming danger but I can’t stop walking. My hand finds the hard wood of the door and I pause, waiting for permission that never comes. Then, slowly, I push it open with a creak.
What I find knocks the breath from my chest.
That’s the only thing that happens quickly, and in the next few moments where I’m not breathing, everything else comes slow in a steady rhythm with my heartbeat.
One beat, Erin, face down on a pool table. Another beat, her mascara stained on her cheeks, brown eyes wide open, staring at me like I’m not real. A third beat, her light blue dress, torn in the back, bunched above her waist. The fourth and final beat, her lacey white panties around her ankles, strained against her silver heels still planted firmly on the floor.
One breath, inhaled slowly and exhaled like fire through my nose as my fists clench, breaking the cuts on my knuckles open once more.
“I’ll fucking murder them.”
I turn fast, eyes searching for Landon and his brothers as Erin calls out my name.
“Bear!”
“I’ll fucking murder them!” I repeat, running in the direction I watched them leave, but Erin’s voice stops me.
“Bear, don’t leave me!” she cries, and the sound rips through my chest like the sharpest blade. I choke on my next breath, torn between chasing after them and staying with her. A soft whimper is all it takes to make my decision for me.
“Fuck!”
I rush through the door, shutting it quickly behind me before crossing quickly to Erin. She hasn’t moved except for to squeeze her eyes shut tightly as fresh tears mark her cheeks. My hands gently find the edge of her dress on the table and I pull it down, covering her shaking legs, closing my eyes along with her and forcing another breath to stop myself from leaving her again.
I’ll fucking murder them.
I rip my phone from my pocket.
“I’m calling 911.”
“No,” she says softly, quickly.
“Yes, Erin.”
“Bear, please, stop,” she says a little louder, her palms finding the table as she tries to push herself up. The bruises already forming on her arms fuel the fire searing my chest. Erin was having fun tonight, she was smiling, she was dancing, she was wild.
And that’s when it hits me.
“They drugged you,” I whisper. She pauses, stomach still to the table. Her hesitation is answer enough. “I’m calling, Erin.”
“No.”
“Yes, goddamn it.”
“No!” she screams it this time, standing straight, fresh tears falling with the force. “It’s my body, Bear! And I said no!”
A sob breaks through and she doubles over, clutching her stomach as she sinks down to the floor, ankles still bound together by lace. I go down with her, trying to lessen the fall with my arms as I pull her into me. Slowly, I slide her underwear up, but she stops me.
“Take them off. Get them off of me.”
I rip the fabric and quickly tuck them inside my jacket, wrapping my arms around her again. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. All the skits from PSU freshman orientation and years of sex education come flying at me but none of it feels right. “We have to call 911, Erin.”
“And what?” she asks, lifting her tear-stained face to me, blue dress crumpled around her. It’s the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever seen, like I’m holding a princess broken beyond repair. “This isn’t a movie or a fucking seminar, Bear. This is real life. And in real life, rich boys with even richer parents and lawyers don’t go away for raping a sorority girl.” The word rape spits from her lips like poison. “They’ll say I wanted it, they’ll say I planned it, they’ll say I consented, they’ll say I was drunk on my own, they’ll say whatever they have to because it’s four of them against one of me. You weren’t here, you can’t say without a doubt that you saw them do anything. It’s me versus them. And in this world, when the me is a girl known for being emotionally unstable and the them is a group of privileged white men, they win, Bear.” She sniffs, leaning her head against my chest. “They win.”
My hand finds her hair and I pull her close, as close as I can, trying to protect her from a monster I was too late to fight. “Erin, you’re still . . . you’re not thinking right.”
“Please,” she begs, fists curling in my dress shirt. “Just take me home. Please, Bear. Please. Please.” She says the word over and over, each time softer, her frail body rocking in my arms. “Please.”
“Okay,” I finally say, letting myself feel her pain. I take it in, take it as my own, let it overtake my urge to do what I’ve been taught is the right thing. “Okay.”
ERIN ASKS ME TO TAKE HER to my room, knowing her house will soon be flooded with sisters soon, so I do. She asks me to help her undress, so I do. She asks me to burn her dress, so I do. But when she turns on my shower, I quickly turn it back off, keeping my eyes on hers.
“If you’re going to shower, if you’re really not going to tell anyone, then I need you to promise me something.”
Her eyes are so tired, so red, yet tears still pool and spill over. She doesn’t ask me what the promise is, she hasn’t said much at all.
“Erin, you have to get tested. They could have given you something.” I feel weird saying it, but I can’t just let her wash away all evidence without a promise that she’ll take care of herself. I’m already going against every principle in my being. “A disease . . .”
“A baby?” she finishes for me, laughing a bit. I can’t understand why. She shakes her head, leaning over to turn on the shower again. “They used condoms.”
“I don’t care.” I shut it off. She turns it on again but my hand covers hers. “I’m serious, Erin. Promise me.”
She swallows, and the way her eyes connect with mine makes me feel like our souls are tied together in a way that can never be undone from this day forward.
“Okay.”
I nod, dropping my hand and leaving to let her shower in peace but she reaches out for my arm. “Wait.” I pause. “Can you . . . will you . . .”
I turn, brows pinched together as the realization of what she’s asking settles in. But I won’t leave her, not if what she needs is for me to be here right now. I peel my shirt off in response and Erin watches me for just a moment before stepping behind the curtain.
The water is scalding, almost too hot to bear, but I let it burn us both as she scrubs their hands off her skin. The bruises are really starting to show now and her pale skin turns redder and redder as she scrubs, her tears mixing with the water from the showerhead. Tentatively, I take the rag from her hands and slowly run it over her tender skin. My touches are gentle, and she closes her eyes, lips quivering as I try to help her shed the last few hours.
I’m not sure how long we stay in the shower together. The water runs cold and still we stay, shivering together, crying as one. When her tears stop, I turn the water off and wrap her in a towel, carrying her to my room. I find a t-shirt and boxer shorts and she slips them on, crawling into my sheets and reaching out for me again.
So I hold her, all night, through the tears and the silence and the nightmares and the pain. I hold her close, tight, and I whisper the same words over and over and over again until we have no choice but to believe them, until I have no choice but to never rest until they’re true.
“Everything’s going to be okay.”