RYAN
I gave my statement to the police. Poor Abby, her whole story hit a little too close to home. My whole body was shaking in anger and sadness. Philip walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder as I stared blankly into the distance. “How could anyone hurt that little girl? Hell, any child?”
“I don’t know, Ryan. Some people are sick, twisted individuals, but there is good in the world too. You proved that today.”
I felt restless. I needed to get out of there, maybe go to a party and find someone to release the tension. The itch was back, like thousands of ants crawling under my skin. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Ryan?” Philip called after me.
“I have to go.” I pulled away from his touch, unable to take the hand resting on my shoulder. He was offering comfort, but it wasn’t the kind I needed. Nor did I need him to psychoanalyze me. Fucking my feelings away worked best.
“Ryan, you need to talk about this. It’s not healthy to bottle it up,” Philip called from behind me.
I rounded on him. “I’m not going to bottle it up. I’m gonna do what I always do. Fuck it all away.”
Philip growled low in his throat. What was that all about? He stalked towards me, his voice deep, dangerous. “You can’t just go fuck random strangers every time you feel vulnerable, Ryan.” Then, out of nowhere his professor voice took over. “It’s not healthy.”
“What do you care?” Glaring at him, not really understanding what the hell was actually going on. “It’s my way of coping, and it’s been working totally fine up until now.”
“Because it’s not helping you.” He took a step closer, sharing the same breath as me. “You need to talk to someone.”
“Are you volunteering?” I couldn’t help my snark. While I hadn’t ever had a chance to be a real teenager, I was still young enough to pull off some serious fucking attitude. “You gonna be the therapist who helps me get through all my demons?”
“Me?” He reared back. “No, I can’t treat you. You’re, um… a student.” The look on his face said it was more than that, remembering the night before when he held me while I cried. “I have a friend. She deals with childhood trauma and would be happy to help you. In an unofficial capacity, Ryan, you can always talk to me.”
As he took a step closer again, I added a smirk to go along with the teenage snark. “What kind of unofficial capacity are we talking here?”
If I were to guess, I’d say my professor was torn, and really, it was clear why, but the itch was getting worse by the moment and nothing short of a willing participant was going to do. I knew the way I thought about sex was callous, but it was the only way to stop the images that tormented me. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, Professor Marks.”
It was a Saturday night and Greek row was insane. It was the best place to find some company. None of the sports teams had any away games so it was filled to capacity. Drunk co-eds weren’t usually my thing, but desperate times and all that. Even then as I meandered through Alpha house with a bottle of water, it wasn’t all that surprising how little I meshed with the students my own age. The whole carefree college student thing was foreign to me, not seeing the appeal of getting shitfaced even if it did quiet down my brain.
The pulsing music made my head hurt, watching the writhing bodies basically fucking on the dance floor. After an hour looking for someone who interested me, all I could think about was that tension-fueled moment with Philip.
“Ryan?” Giving up and heading to the door, a good-looking guy that I had slept with before Mom died called out. I was pretty sure his name was Dave but I couldn’t be sure.
“Hey, man how’s it going?”
He stepped closer. “You never called me back, Ryan.” The guy didn’t look angry just desperate, which was worse.
“Um, yeah, I have had a lot going on recently. I just came out to blow off some steam.” Wrong choice of words. I couldn’t believe how stupid I was when his eyes lit up.
“I can help you with that,” he whispered, probably in what he thought was a seductive voice. I had a choice to make; either be selfish and take him up on his offer, knowing that nothing would come of it, or let him down easy and go home to my single dorm room by myself.
“Sorry, I don’t do repeats, man. Pretty sure I was clear on that before we fucked.” Okay, so I didn’t exactly let him down easy, but I was annoyed with the day, the night, and the situation I found myself in. Besides, I had been really clear before I’d gone to his apartment with him.
“But, I thought....”
“What did you think? That you’d change me?” I laughed bitterly. “Sorry, trust me, you are better off. Find someone else.”
I walked out of the frat house feeling like shit for crushing the guy, but sometimes you had to be a dick to get the point across.
As I walked the half a mile back to my dorm, I thought about what Philip said. He was right to an extent, but it didn’t stop me from still needing something or someone to take the edge off. Alcohol wasn’t my thing, and as the child of a drug addict I was never even tempted by that method of escape. Even in my darkest moments, the thought was repulsive to me. Sex was the only thing that helped. It gave me the power, control I so desperately needed in my life. Needing to get out of my head and stop psychoanalyzing myself, I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t see the car pull up next to me.
“So, you struck out, huh?” Seemed like my shit day was getting worse.
“Whatever. Wasn’t feelin’ it.” I glared through the window at a smug looking Philip. “Are you following me?”
“Definitely not following you, but can’t say I mind the view.” What the hell?
“What’s your deal?”
“No deal, Ryan. You want a ride?” I nearly shuddered at the innuendo in his words.
“What kind of ride?” I lifted a brow at him; two could play this game. Did he think because he was older I couldn’t keep up?
“A ride home, Ryan.” He repeated my name again sternly, but there was no conviction in his tone.
“Sure.” I opened the door to his sports car and hopped in.