The Long Ride Home

The room was spinning, the cream color of the walls was stirring, blending in with the cherry wood dresser that lay maybe a yard in front of my bed. My eyes were still heavy with sleep, but I was awoken by a bad dream and wet that damped my sheets. 1

I sat up slowly. "It was a dream," I whispered, "a terrible, bad dream." I tensed up my jaw and clenched my fingers into a tight fist. I pushed the thought away from my head and gently massaged my temples. 2

I arose slowly from my bed and walked steadily into the bathroom ajoining my bedroom. I splashed my face with cold water and gasped as I clutched for the towel suspended by a single, metal rod. I stared at my reflection for a long time. Green eyes, framed by messy, brown hair peered back at me. They were sad. I was sad. 3

The longer I stared at myself, the more I wanted to cry and the less I wanted to accept the truth. What happened last night had not been a dream. It was as real as the moment right now was. Yet, it seemed so supernatural, so surreal.4

"Hey," he shook me lightly. His hand was steady, warm, and comforting on my shoulder.5

I woke up, a bit groggy. I fell asleep on the way over from our friend's house who lived more than an hour and a half away; I reasoned, although I didn't remember it. "Thanks Dave," I yawned. I reached for my purse.6

"Wait Cheryl," he muttered. "We're not there yet. We're at Kyle's, he wanted me to check in on his dog. I just wanted to wake up and see if you needed to use the bathroom." 7

"Yeah," I replied, "thanks."8

I stepped out of the car, the air was chilly and I held my arms close to my chest. Under my footsteps, cold, dry grass broke beneath my steps. My teeth chattered. 9

The inside of Kyle's apartment wasn't much warmer than the outside. The toilet seat against my skin felt like dry ice. When I exited the bathroom, Dave was sitting on the couch, his eyes closed and his hands behind his head. "What are you doing?" I inquired and sat down next to him.10

"Thinking," he mumbled, then opened one eye and looked at me.11

"About what?" I laughed and leaned against the couch, enjoying and relaxing against the soft fabric for a second. A pleasant welcome to the long, exhausting car ride.12

"You."13

"Wait..." I trailed off, "what do you mean, Dave?"14

"I'm not sure."15

I glanced at him, puzzled and confused. Dave was a good friend of mine, my boyfriend's best friend. Handsome, tall, strong. He had sandy, brown hair that curled down his face and popped against his dark, tan complexion. He was tall and athletic. Most girl fell upon his feet. I was always unable to. He used his charm and his looks to captivate women. He was too scared to grow attached, and in the long run, used and then left them.16

"You're the only girl I ever wanted to get close to," he whispered and leaned towards me. 17

My heart pounded against my chest. I felt weak, my legs, my arms, and my body shook. Not in fright, but in surprise. His face leaned close to mine and I'm not sure why, but in a moment of weakness, I leaned closer to his.18

Our lips touched for a brief second. Our tongues twisted and he grabbed onto my hair and pulled it gently, before laying me on the couch. His other hand moved quickly up my thigh, I tensed up. 19

"Wait," I spoke between kisses, "we can't. No."20

He looked me in the eye and laughed slightly before kissing me again. "We don't have to tell Calvin," he spoke softly in my ear.21

"He's your best friend!" I protested, I moved my face away from him. "This is wrong. We can't hurt him like this!"22

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him."23

His hand moved up my inner thigh and his thumb slowly grazed the outside of my panties. I breathed heavily and he pressed his cheek against mine. His other hand held tightly and tangled in my hair. 24

"Stop it, please," I panicked, unsure of what was happening. I squirmed underneath him, but I was no match for his strength.25

He slid my underwear off with skill, something he was used to doing. then he lifted above me for about ten seconds as he began to slide his shorts off. I chewed on my bottom lip nervously as I tried to fight him... with no avail.26

He thrusted into me, roughly at first. Slight moans escaped his mouth and I found a few did the same by me. Not volunatarily. By this time, I had given up the fight. I ran out of energy and I let him win. Then, he was slow and gentle and then finally pulled out and looked at me again. His lip trembled and I felt him shake on top of me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and he buried is face in my hair and cried.27

I'm not sure why, but at that moment I both hated and forgave him at the same time. I was flooded with emotions: guilt, shame, hate, forgiveness, love, and understanding. 28

"I'm sorry," he cried and pleaded. "Cher, I'm so sorry."29

He drove me home, silent and still. When he dropped me off, I shed my clothes and curled up into a little ball in my bed. 30

I snapped back from the events of the night before. Thinking back on it, I clutched my stomach. It ached, and I hurled green, pea soup colored vomit into the toilet. I wondered if Dave was thinking about the events of last night to. Did he regret it all as much as I did?31

Was my kissing him so wrong? It was. This was my punishment, I deserved this. I leaned against the wall and slid slowly down it. I began to cry, tears flowed uncontrollably down my face. I chewed on my lip and pulled at my hair.32

Shame overwhelmed me. I couldn't tell anyone. Calvin would never know. Dave and mine's friends would never find out. Oh God, what if I was pregnant? I buried my face in my hands and sobbed.33

After an hour I faced the toilet. The light from the fixtures hit the porcelin and it reflected brightly into my eyes. I realized then that I didn't hate Dave, yet I hated myself for letting him do that to me. I forgave him last night, but I would never forgive myself.