The more the fog of arousal is lifted from my mind, the clearer my thoughts become. This is so fucked up. Parker is fucked up, and I need to get away from him. He’s just proven that he has no boundaries. He thinks he can do whatever he wants, and in a way, I guess he can, but that doesn’t mean I have to let him do anything to me again.
Taking my phone out of my bag, I unlock the sleek device with trembling hands. I don’t want to do this, but I feel cornered, trapped. Looking through my contact list, I scroll to the last person I want to call, but the only one who can actually help me in my current situation. I push the green call button and hold the phone to my ear.
After a few rings, my father finally picks up.
“Willow,” his stern voice comes through the line, and if I wasn’t feeling like crap before, I am now, knowing that I have to do this. “How is everything going at Blackthorn?”
“Not good, Dad,” I admit. “Not good at all.” I sigh into the empty room, knowing that nothing good is going to come of this phone call.
“What did you do, Willow?” Of course, he blames me. He has no idea what I’m calling about, but his first thought is that I did something wrong. It’s times like these that I wish my mother were still alive. If she were here, nothing would’ve ever happened to Ashton… I wouldn’t be here now, a pawn in my father’s sick chess game.
“I didn’t do anything unless you count being alive and being here, wrong, which apparently Parker does.” I’m trying really hard not to sound like a whiny little brat, but it’s harder than you’d expect. I hate being here already, and I hate that he’s here even more. “Dad, I can’t do this. I can’t be here. He hates me, he threatens me constantly, and he—”
“Willow,” my father cuts me off. “Stop being so dramatic and do what I told you to do. If Parker is there and noticing you, then that’s exactly what we want.”
No, it’s what you want.
“It’s wrong, he wants me to sleep with him. I—”
“What’s the issue then? If he wants you, then use that to your advantage. Sleep with him, wrap him around your finger. Do whatever it takes to get into his good graces.”
What?
I hold the phone away for a moment, looking at the screen, hoping the phone might be broken or something. That would make more sense than him saying what he just said.
“You’re kidding, right?” I bring the phone back to my ear. “You don’t actually expect me to sleep with him… I mean, you can’t really, right?” I feel like I’m in some horror movie that keeps playing on repeat, every time the killer kills me, I come back, reliving the same events over and over again.
“God, you are so dramatic. Don’t act like you are some kind of saint who’s saving herself for marriage. Spread your legs if you have to. You’re a woman, that’s what’s going to get you places. It’s how the world works, Willow, so don’t blame me. I didn’t make the rules. Just remember, sex is only what you make of it.”
“No… I won’t… that’s… do you even hear yourself right now?” My stomach twists so violently I have to hold onto the side of the table.
Frustration burns through the phone line. “Look, Willow. I don’t care if you sleep with him or not as long as you get into his circle of friends. Just make it easy on yourself and get it done soon. Your sister has cost me enough time and trouble, don’t make the same mistakes she did. Just do what you’re told.”
Just be my puppet… that’s all I hear.
“I’m not staying here. You can’t expect me to, not with how insane he is. You don’t understand. He’s going to hurt me, he’s already tried—”
My father chuckles into the phone, “Parker is a college kid, a fly, what’s he going to do?” The better question would be, what isn’t he going to do?
“You’re perfectly safe there, and you’ll remain there, that is unless you want your sister to be homeless?” The threat hangs in the air between us.
“So, we’re back to threats, great, you’re no better than Parker.” I grip the phone hard enough to break it. I’m so tired of this. I dealt with it all last year, and this year I thought it would be better, different. But it’s not, it’s all just the same. Same shit, different day.
“Goodbye, Willow,” he hangs up the phone without another word. He just hangs up! I’m not even sure what to say at this point.
Even more shocked than before this phone call, I stand in the center of the empty science lab. Tears prick at my eyes, and before I know it, they’re falling, leaving streaks down my cheeks. I guess the only good thing about today is that I didn’t cry in front of Parker and his friends.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to beg and plead, to tell him to stop, but I didn’t. I knew better. It wouldn’t have helped me any. What he did today, it was a warning, it could’ve been much worse, and it will be if I don’t stay out of his way.
Peering down at my black phone screen, I know what I have to do.
A few days have passed since our run-in, and I’m about to head to English literature, one out of two classes I’ve been dreading going back to. I’ve managed to avoid Parker, at all costs, mainly by hiding out in my room, but I know I can’t hide today, much less forever.
I’ve spent the last few nights thinking about what Alice and I had talked about, and as much as I hate to say it, I think apologizing is my best shot at being forgotten right now.
Maybe it will make things better. Perhaps if I explain that my father won’t let me leave, that I overstepped, which I didn’t, he’ll understand. Yeah, right. That’s wishful thinking.
It won’t matter to Parker. He won’t care, just like his brother didn’t care that night. Shaking my head, I try not to think about my sister or even my father. No one can save me, protect me. There is just me.
Arriving early to class, I walk to the back of the room and take the same seat as last time. Parker isn’t here yet, and thankfully so. I suck in a tiny breath of relief, thinking over what exactly I’m going to say to him. I’ve barely got my books out of my bag when Parker comes strolling down the aisle.
Half of the chairs are still empty, but of course, he chooses to take the one right next to me. Because why not choose one of the twenty other empty seats?
“Did you keep a seat for me?” he asks, a smug look on his arrogant, beautiful face. I want to come back with a snarky remark. Something like: you can shove that seat up your ass, but I swallow the insult down instead.
“Yes, actually… I wanted to talk to you.”
He raises his eyebrows, looking thoroughly intrigued. “Yeah, is that so?”
“I wanted to apologize… ah for, kneeing you… you know in the…” I stumble over the words, and my stupid cheeks flame as if the sun is beating on them.
“Balls?” He finishes for me.
“Yes, for that.” Even though you deserved it, I add in my head.
For a long moment, he just looks at me, studying me like I’m a math problem to be solved.
“Your words mean nothing to me,” he blinks slowly, “however, you can come back to my place after class and show me how sorry you are.”