She smokes in silence for a while. I wave off another hit. She puts it out about halfway through it, and puts it back in the tube, then closes her eyes and just sits in silence for a few minutes.
"It was…it was horrific." She's speaking barely above a whisper. "We kissed. Got each other naked. He fingered me—that felt good. I'd done that for myself, so I knew what that felt like. I touched him—the first time I'd touched a penis. I liked it a lot. He…" she sighs, voice shaking. Starts over. "We messed around for a few minutes. But then he…he put on a condom. I was on my back, sort of just…expecting that to be the position. But he—he flipped me onto my stomach, yanked me up by my hips, and…just—just…boom. Went for it. Right inside. No warning, no build up, just…wham.Hard. And he…he wasn't small." Her eyes go to me. Away. Close, hiding the pain of the memory. “He fucked me. Hard and fast, like I knew what I was doing, like I was used to it. It hurt. I could feel that I was bleeding. You know, from being a virgin."
"Jesus," I mutter.
She reaches out and takes my hand. "Don't interrupt, please. I have to just get it out."
I squeeze her hand in response, and she continues. "He, um…did it like that for a while. I don't know how long—It felt like hours. It hurt. I was crying. He knew, but he didn't fucking give a shit. He pulled out after a while, dragged me to the edge of the bed, bent me over it, and went at it again, standing up behind me. Even harder."
I have to grip the arm of the chair so hard my hand aches, but the fury I feel is overwhelming. I'm seeing red—murderous fury.
She squeezes my hand. “Breathe, Fee. Just…breathe with me." She inhales deeply, and I follow suit. After we exhale, she resumes. "That lasted for a while, too. Again, I couldn't track the time. I tried to…to go away in my head. And then he pulled out again, and…um." A pause, her voice shaking. "He shoved me to my knees facing him, took off the condom, and fucked my face. Like, down my throat, like I was some porn star who knew how to deep-throat. I couldn't breathe, and I kept almost barfing, but I couldn't, and…he wouldn't stop. I was sobbing, gagging, snotting, pushing at him, hitting him, but he had my hair and he was so strong, and he…he wouldn’t stop. Until he finished, which was…awful. He just tasted gross. His cum, I mean. It was nasty. And there was so much of it. When he finished, he shoved me to the floor, laughing." She wipes at her eyes. "He stood over me, buckling his jeans. And he—he said, ’Now you ain't a virgin anymore, are you, cunt?'"
Silence.
She looks at me, wiping at her eyes again. "There. That's the story I've never told anyone."
"Forget what I said before," I growl, my voice shaking with rage. "That was rape. In so many ways, that was rape. It may have started out consensual, but the minute you saidanythingthat even hinted that you wanted to stop or slow down, it should have been over." I close my eyes and lean forward, elbows on knees, fists gripped so tight they shake—my whole body is trembling with hate, with fury, with rage. "I'm so, so, so fucking sorry you went through that, Ember."
She rests a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay now. It was hard to talk through, but I really am okay. It's just…" her voice shakes. "I never wanted to apply that word to me. Sexual Assault. Rape. Survivor. Victim. I always framed it as he went too far, that I just got more than I bargained for."
I shake my head. "Fuckers like that oughta be castrated with a dull butter knife." I hiss. "Sorry—sorry, I know the violent talk bothers you."
"Don't be angry for me, Felix. Please."
"Yeah, well, I am." I look at her, trying to swallow the hot lump in my throat. "I'm more than angry."
"Should we talk more another day?"
I shake my head. "Not unless you want to."
She shrugs. "No, I'd like to get past this." She rubs my back. "Just…try to let it go. Okay? I'm okay. I forgave him."
"How?” I ask. "Howthe fuckdo you forgive someone who does something that evil?"
"I had to. It was eating me alive. I couldn't…I couldn’t function. I couldn't let Dutchie even kiss me. Not until I told him what happened. And he…Dutchie told me that forgiveness was the only possible path to healing."
"Fuck that."
"No. It worked. I wrote Rob this big, long letter. I dumped everything I was feeling into it. How much I hated him. All the ways I'd fantasized about hurting him for what he did—and believe me, I can bereallymotherfucking creative. I wrote about how it had screwed me up. Made me distrustful not just of men, but everyone. I mean, I knew Rob was a quote-unquote bad boy, but he didn't seem…all that bad. He was flirty, funny, easy to talk to. Bought me beer, and we'd smoke down together. Treated me like an adult. But then it was like a switch flipped inside him, and he just…he was someone else. A monster. And I told him about that. It must have been ten or eleven pages both sides. And I tracked him down, and I mailed him the letter. The last three words of which were 'I forgive you.' I don't know if he read it, if it found him, but it didn't matter. Telling him how I felt and writing the words that I forgave him…it sort of set me free. It wasn't magic. I wasn't okay all at once. It took Dutchie another two or three months of patient exploration before we went past second base. I kept having flashbacks when he touched me, but I…I had to work through that. I'd have Dutchie do something that gave me flashbacks, and we'd just let me go through it, and he'd hold me and the next time it wasn't as bad. Eventually, doing things with Dutchie felt good, physically and emotionally."
She lights the other half of the joint and smokes it while talking.
"But it progressed by degrees. Kissing, making out, heavy petting. Letting him see me naked—I wore baggy clothes for a long time after what happened. Letting him touch my body. Touching him—that part was easier. Rob hadn't ruined that for me. I liked making Dutchie feel good. With my hands, at least." She laughs. "I must've given him dozens of hand jobs because it was all I could handle, and I liked how he reacted. I liked seeing him lose his mind. Making him feel good made me forget. I couldn't go down on him for a long time, though, even after I was okay with sex. The way he did that—Rob, I mean. It…that really messed me up."
"I can't fucking imagine. It's kinda incredible to me that you can do that at all." I frown. "Jesus, Ember. If I'd known—"
She lunges across the space between us and claps a hand over my mouth. "Nope, nope, nope, nope. You arenotdoing that, Felix Crowe. You absolutely, categorically arenotallowed to treat me any different because I told you that. " She keeps her hand on my mouth, eyes blazing and intense. "I…am…healed. It still hurts to remember, but it doesn't haunt me. I don’t think about it almost ever. And Ineverthink about it during sex. Never. You wanna know what I was thinking when I was sucking your big, beautiful cock, Fee?"
I nod. "Mmmm-hmmm."
"I was thinking, 'god, his cock is amazing.'"
I snort. "Mmm-hmmm." It's a sarcastic sound, this time.
"It's true!" She protests. "Do I need to prove it?" Her smirk is teasing, but I suspect if I said yes, she would.
"Ember," I say, pulling her hand away from my mouth. "You don't have to prove anything."
