Page 23 of Resilience

“That really fucking hurt,” she told him. “Fine. Sit here alone and pout. But if you do something stupid I will kick your ass for it.”

Then she turned and walked away.

As she got to the cabin, she looked back. He’d crossed his arms over his belly and dropped forward to put his head on a knee.

If she ever saw Lark again, Athena was going to kick her right in the twat.

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~oOo~

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Athena was in bed before midnight on the night of her own birthday party.

But she was just completely over the whole thing. Sam had taken the boat out on his own sometime after dark. Hunter was passed out in an Adirondack chair by the campfire, and most of their guests had paired off and found somewhere to enjoy some games for two players, as it were—which was what she’d figured she and Sam would be doing with Hunter and Lark by now!

She’d found Hunter sprawled unconscious in the chair and grabbed a camp blanket to drop over him, so if he got left out there overnight he’d at least stay warm after the fire died. It got chilly in these woods at night even in summer.

Then she went inside, brushed her teeth and washed her face, brushed the dried lake water out of her hair, and put an end to this night.

She hated wearing underwear to bed; waking up with a wedgie was the worst. Usually she wore only a t-shirt to sleep. In her room, she stood for a minute and stared at the door, wondering if she should lock it. There were a lot of drunk people around tonight, and any one of them could bumble in here in a stupor and drop down onto the bed with her. That would be seriously awkward if she was basically naked.

But Hunter might wake up in the middle of the night, and irritated as she was, she wanted him to be able to get to bed if he did. So she left her underwear on. Gross.

Blanche settled into the pad of blankets Athena had made for her on the floor at the side of the bed as Athena got under the covers and turned out the light. She closed her eyes and tried to erase this dud of a birthday from her mind.

At least it wasn’t her actual birthday yet.

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~oOo~

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She woke abruptly with a massive weight pressing her down into the bed, face-first. The pillow was puffed around her face, so she could barely breathe. After an initial blast of unfocused shock and fear, she remembered about the party and calmed a little—she still couldn’t breathe and now she was angry instead of frightened, but she felt like she knew what was happening. Some drunk had done exactly what she’d predicted and dropped into bed for a drunken coma. Right on top of her.

In this position she couldn’t get any leverage with her eighty-seven pounds, but she gave it her best shot. But then something truly scary happened—whoever was on top of her started to counter her fight. They weren’t letting her up; they were trying to keep her down.

It wasn’t a mistake. Somebody was on top of her on purpose.

Was it Hunter?

Really struggling now, she managed to get an arm free and push the pillow down enough so she could breathe and see. The room was almost pitch black, only the party lights outside the single window offering any light. It was too dark to sign, but she did it anyway, in the hopes that it was Hunter, or somebody who knew ASL and really was making an honest mistake, and he’d be able to make out her pleas to stop.

Lifting her head as much as she could, she took a deep breath. She never used her mouth to communicate, she had no solid idea how to shape words that way, but she could scream. She thought she could scream, at least.

With that breath, she caught the scent of Hunter’s cologne. It was a custom scent from a company he’d found online, so she knew it was him. He wouldn’t hear her if she screamed.

It was her boyfriend, and he was doing this on purpose. So he must think she wanted it. He was drunk, so she could understand him getting confused. He’d never done anything like this before, but he didn’t get drunk with her that often, since she didn’t drink much.

She had to get him to understand that she very much did not want this. Flinging her one free arm back, she tried to hit him or grab him, but she couldn’t make good contact. She was so fucking little! Her Krav Maga training was no use because she was on her belly in bed, buried under his twice-hers weight.

Oh god, he was tearing her underwear off! Hunter, NO! she screamed in her head. NO NO NO!! Where was Blanche? She wasn’t a guard dog, but she was trained to be alert for trouble, and this was trouble!

Athena gave up trying to grab Hunter and instead used her arm to try to wedge her upper body upward and free the arm that was pinned under her chest. Just as she succeeded, Hunter tore her panties away and spread her legs. He was not stupid. Even drunk he had to know she didn’t want this!

Taking the risk that she’d be smothered, Athena let her head and upper body drop again, and she flung both arms up from her shoulders and over her head. She got two handfuls of his hair and pulled as hard as she could.

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