Page 19 of Catch Me

“Ah,” he groans, removing his arm from around my neck. “You’re no fun.”

I dart into his car, out of the biting air and cross my legs, rubbing my palms together, trapping any source of heat I can get. The winter is creeping in and I'm not buzzing about it to be honest.

Connor drives like someone who’s had too many pints of lager, which he has. Normally I'm not reckless enough to get into a car with a man who’s clearly way over the legal limit, but tonight I'm just desperate to get home and the thought of getting on the tube this late at night alone is not a positive one. So I sink down intoConnor’s heated seats and close my eyes as he weaves his way through the brightly lit London streets, like a rollercoaster that may spin out of control at any moment. All I can do is grip the seat and squeeze my eyes tightly closed. Connor says nothing the whole drive, but even with closed eyes I can feel his occasional glances hovering over me. He’s making me nervous. My bare toes are tingling as they poke out the end of my high heeled shoes and when he finally rounds the bend and pulls into a spot outside my dorm building, the fight or flight in me has already kicked into overdrive and I don’t even know why.

His breath is laced with beer when he leans closer to me. “Before you go, are you gonna give me a kiss?”

Fuck me, hes a sleezebag.

“No, sorry, I don’t kiss on the first date.” I squeak, my throat drier than the Sahara desert. My hand is on the door handle, the beads of anxious sweat breaking the skin and trickling down the back of my neck even though it’s fucking freezing in here.

Connor’s icy hand slides up my bare thigh, my stomach tightening with panic. “I don’t think you mean that, I know you want me, I can tell.” He drawls. Drunk and delirious he edges closer, his fingers tickling the edge of my skirt. My heart is beating so fucking hard I can’t even hear what he says next. I have to decide now, do I punch him or try to run?

I yank the door handle and it opens behind me, thank fuck. I shove at Connor’s chest, creating space between us before I grab my bag and scramble out of the car like a terrified animal.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I cry, tears seeping out of my eyes and streaming down my face before I even know they’re on their way.

Connor simply scoffs and leans back into his chair, eyes narrowed like a snake. “Jesus Christ, don’t be such a prude! Mitchell said you’d be easy, said you open your legs for anyone.”

His words make me feel instantly dirty, like a truck just drove through a swampy puddle and soaked me in stagnant rain water.I should have known when Callie said Connor was a football player, of course he knows Mitchell. It’s not enough that Mitchell took the one thing from me that I can never take back, but he also feels the need to tell his friends that they can get an easy fuck from me whenever they feel like it. I feel disgusting.

I slam his car door closed, hearing a muffled, “Don’t be like that Taylor,” yelled after me but I don’t turn back to look at him.

I dash into the safety of my building and bypass the lift, taking the stairs two at a time in a desperate attempt to get into my dorm as quickly as possible and lock the door behind me. My thighs are burning when I reach the fourth floor and turn my key in the lock, running straight past Molly who sits, drowning in blankets on the couch. I slam my bedroom door shut and throw my bag and jacket to the ground, curling up in a ball on my new neatly dressed bed. The sheets are cold and crisp, the scent of lavender washing powder helping to steady the still flowing tears when I squeeze my eyelids closed. I only get about thirty-seconds to let myself be swallowed by self pity though before the hurricane that is Molly Crawford hurtles into my bedroom.

“What the fuck Lo, what happened?” She shrieks, eyes wide with worry as she hauls me up by the shoulders to sit next to her on my mattress.

I sniff hard and clear the wet trail from my cheek with the back of my hand. “Nothing, I just—”

“No,” Molly says, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at her, although she’s still a blur of blonde through my tears. “Something happened, I know it did, now tell me.”

I want to tell her, really I do but the truth seems lodged in my throat. I want Nick, I want his tattooed biceps to wrap around me, to bury my nose in his hard chest and to hear his whisper of reassurance in my ear. Molly’s hand on my shoulder is comforting, but it’s not enough in this moment. I feel dirty and used. Even though Connor didn’t get the chance to do anythingserious, he still touched me without my permission and now I just want to put myself in the bin.

“Can you,” I sniff, a tear streaking down my face, “can you call Nick please?”

Molly glances over her shoulder, out of my open bedroom door. “Yeah, sure.” She says on a whisper, leaving a kiss on the crown of my head as she gets up and goes to find her phone.

I hear her make the call in the hallway, her voice is muffled and I can tell she’s trying to make sure Anais doesn’t overhear anything from inside her room. I lay back against the mattress, staring up at the stick on stars that litter my ceiling. I brought them here from home when I started at Redwood and moved them in here from my old dorm. They remind me of being a tiny child, lying in bed whilst the hum of music and conversation continued without me downstairs. Sean would often sneak into my room and lay with me until I fell asleep, he always knew I hated sleeping alone and unlike now, he actually used to quite like me.

“Ok,” Molly reappears in the doorway, “I called him and he’s coming.”

“Thank you.”

She leans over me and plants a lingering kiss on my cheek. “If you change your mind about talking to me before he gets here, I’ll be in the living room ok?”

I can only nod, turning onto my side and tucking my knees into my chest. I need quiet and dark so I can think straight. I don’t know how I let that happen tonight, why I put myself in a dangerous situation with someone I barely knew. I’m disappointed in myself, but more than anything, I'm embarrassed. Maybe it was my fault for allowing myself to be stuck in a car with Connor in the first place. Did I give him the wrong impression? I don’t think I did. But sometimes things go straight over my head and I don’t even realise what’s going onuntil I'm in an uncomfortable situation that I suddenly can’t get out of.

I don’t know if I fall asleep for a few minutes or if it’s been hours, but the thumping on the front door startles me awake. Heavy, rapid footsteps head for my bedroom and the door flies open without a knock.

Nick’s face is pale, his brown eyes wide with worry. “Hey, baby what happened?” He lands on the bed beside me, pulling me effortlessly into his embrace. I’m in a ball on his lap, like a baby being rocked to sleep and it’s the warmest feeling of comfort I’ve ever felt. He gives me a few minutes to cry into his t-shirt, then he lifts my chin with his thumb and his anxious gaze meets mine.

“Tell me what happened,” he coos, dropping a tiny kiss to my wet nose. “Tell me Lois. Molly said you went out with Connor, he’s bad news. I wish you’d have told me before you went and I could have warned you about him. Now tell me what he did.”

I sit up straight, wriggling off his lap and sitting cross legged beside him, wiping a hand across my cheek to rid it off the moisture. “He drove me home,”sniff, sniff,“and then he…”

I don’t know how to say the words, don’t know how to get them to stop sticking in my throat. But Nick just waits, totally patient with me, stroking a finger down the side of my cheek as my lips part on a jagged breath.

I inhale deeply and evenly. “He tried to force himself on me.”

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