I wrenched back, fell on my butt and scrambled up. Then I was running out of his room, down the hall, down the stairs so fast my feet blurred. I slid down the last three steps but managed to keep my feet under me. “Looks like someone was having a good time,” said a guy.
“Beth!” I yelled, but my voice was just a squeak.
Get out, get out, get out.
I burst outside, gasping and panting. There was a huddle of guys smoking weed in the driveway, blocking my path to the car. Chase’s friends. They gaped at me, then laughed, and I turned and ran. No. I flew across the Freemans’ wide lawn, toward the water, toward the town cove. I fell off the drop-off into the muck, the stiff reeds scratching and stabbing my legs. I was gasping for air and shaking hard.
Hide.
I crawled further into the tall reeds until I felt hidden in the marsh.
I covered my mouth, trying to quiet down, because I was gasp-sobbing. Then I looked down, and a little mewl of dismay escaped me. My shirt and bra were still undone . . . everyone had seen my breasts. My hands shook so hard it took me four tries to do up my bra. I buttoned my shirt and wrapped my arms around myself. Mud seeped into my skirt and panties, and there were dark smears of muck on my sleeves.
The anger was gone, and all that was left was fear. Fear, and utter disdain for myself.
How could I have been so stupid? How? Our health teachers had warned us about drugs and date rape and not leaving your friend alone at a party since fourth grade, yet here I was, sitting in the mud, hiding, shaking like a terrified Chihuahua, trying not to scream or cry.
I didn’t have a cell phone. They were expensive, and we didn’t have a lot of service anyway, not out by the kettle ponds. Dad had said maybe for Christmas.
I was alone here. But at least it was dark, and I was hidden. The air was cold and clear, and I remembered that I loved nature, and I would be okay, out here in the marsh, smelling the sea.
Then I heard voices. Chase and another guy, maybe two. A flashlight swept across the reeds and I froze.
“She ran across the yard,” a male voice said.
“Well, if she calls the cops, I’m fucking dead. This will fuck up Harvard, too. My dad will kill me.”
They were looking for me. Jesus God, they were looking for me. And what if they found me?
I froze. Even the shaking stopped, and my breath quieted. I put my hands into the mud and smeared my face with it, slowly, silently camouflaging myself so my skin wouldn’t catch the beam of light. Thank God I was wearing black. My legs were already filthy with marsh muck.
I was a girl from the woods of Wellfleet. I knew how to be quiet. I told myself it was just like standing in the water of Herring Pond, being so, so still that a heron would walk right past you, that the fish would swim between your feet and nibble at your skin, that you were part of the landscape. I pretended that I was part of the marsh, invisible, safe.
“I don’t see her,” one of the other boys said. Camden from the lacrosse team, also a senior. “She probably caught a ride home. It’s better this way. Everyone saw her slutting it up in there, Chase. Nothing happened. She left. Story over.”
The flashlight beam swept past me again, and I closed my eyes.
Then it was dark again, and the boys’ voices grew fainter. I stayed where I was. What were they going to do if they found me? What was my punishment going to be? The words gang rape floated in front of my eyes. Slut. Easy. Whore. Drunk. Stoned.
I sat there for hours, my knees pulled to my chest, afraid to leave in case I was seen. At some point, the voices moved outside. Engines started, kids laughed, cars drove off. I sat there, praying that Beth would come, that I’d hear her voice and could run to her and be safe again.
How could she have let me go off with Chase? Wasn’t that the cardinal rule of parties? Never let your friend go off with a slimy rich boy.
But then I remembered that she didn’t know. Sitting there, sobering up in the mud, I remembered the details. I had told her I was thirsty and had gone into the kitchen. I’d pulled a Coke out of a cooler, said hi to Jessica, who was making out with her boyfriend and didn’t pause. Then I turned and found myself face-to-face with Chase, and he asked me to dance. We did, and after a little while, he said, “Want to see my room?” and I said yes.
I said yes.
Oh, God. It was my word against his. It was.
Then I heard Bethie’s voice. “What time did Lillie leave?” she asked, and her words carried easily across the lawn. Thank God! I started to stand up, then froze mid-crouch.
“She didn’t feel good.” Chase’s voice. “Bruce said she called someone and left. Dunno what time.”