l**t In Between

Prior to that evening, I had never really given Ryan any attention at all. It was almost as if he had never existed before. All of a sudden, he showed up everywhere he looked. He just seemed to materialize out of nowhere. When I finally made up my mind to leave, I had just recently left the Halloween party that was still going on behind me. I was trying to make my way through the crowded parking lot that was located behind the fraternity house that formerly housed my ex, and at the same time I was tapping out a message on my phone to my roommate. The evening was lovely and warm, and it had the feel of an Indian summer that one might have in the South. The music was blaring across the pavement from the wide-open windows of the house, which were also being interspersed with occasional outbursts of laughter, drunken challenges, and calls for more shots. As the designated driver for tonight, it was up to me to ensure that Sophie got back to our dorm on the other side of campus unharmed. I had to carry out this duty even if I couldn't bring myself to stay for another minute of the party because I was responsible for ensuring Sophie's safe return. In the message that I sent her, I asked her to get in touch with me via phone or text as soon as she was ready to depart. It is possible that she will not call me until the following day because she and her boyfriend, Cal, had been drinking tequila while dirty dancing prior to linking hands and tripping up the stairs to his room. If this occurs, it is highly likely that she will not call me until the following day. If that turned out to be the case, the thought of her having to make the embarrassing journey from the front porch to my truck made me stifle a chuckle to myself. I was searching for my keys in my bag when I accidentally pressed the send button on my phone. The moon was obscured by clouds, and the fully lit windows of the house were too far away to provide any illumination. As a result, the end of the lot that was furthest away from the house was completely dark. I could only rely on my instincts. Because I was almost certain that I had drawn blood, when a mechanical pencil pricked the tip of one of my fingers, I let out an expletive and stomped my foot while wearing stilettos. I did this because I thought that I had drawn blood. As soon as I had the keys in my grasp, I sucked on my finger to determine if I had punctured the skin; I was able to tell by the taste of a slight metallic aftertaste that I had. I muttered "Figures" as I opened the door to the truck while performing the action. In the few seconds that followed, I was far too disoriented to have any comprehension of what was taking place because of how quickly everything happened. One moment, I was pulling open the door of the truck, and the next, I was lying on my face across the seat of the vehicle, unable to move and out of breath. I had gone from pulling open the door to lying on my face across the seat of the vehicle. I tried my hardest to get up, but the load that was on top of me was simply too much for me to bear. Despite my best efforts, I was unable to do so. "You look adorable in your little devil costume, Jenna." The speaker's words were jumbled, but they could still be understood. My first thought was, "Don't call me that," but I quickly pushed that objection aside in favor of pure terror as I felt a hand pushing my already short skirt higher. My second thought was, "Don't call me that," but I quickly pushed that objection aside as well. My right arm was completely unable to assist me because it was caught in the space between my body and the seat. I dug my left hand into the seat next to my face in an effort to push myself back up and into an upright position. My wrist was suddenly grabbed by the hand that had been resting on the exposed skin of my thigh. The hand shot up suddenly and grabbed hold of my wrist. I let out a scream as he yanked my arm behind my back and then firmly gripped it in the hand that he was using for the other purpose. I braced myself as his arm pressed into the middle of my upper back. I was immobilized and unable to move. "Conall, get your hands off of me. Let go." Despite the fact that my hands were shaking, I tried to deliver the command with as much authority as I could muster. I could smell the beer on his breath, as well as a much stronger odor emanating from his sweat. As a result, I started to feel queasy in my stomach. His free hand had found its way back to the place it had been before on my left thigh, and he had shifted his weight so that he was covering me from the right side. Because the door had been left open, both of my feet were dangling outside of the vehicle while I was driving. He laughed at my feeble attempts to pull up my knee and get it under me, while I attempted to get it under me by pulling up my knee. He laughed at my attempts. I let out a scream as he pushed his hand between my open legs, but by the time I brought one of my legs back down, it was too late to save myself. I heaved and writhed, at first imagining that I could dislodge him, and then, upon realizing that I was no match for his size, I began pleading with him to let go of me. I was no match for his size. "Conall, you have to put an end to that. Please, you've been drinking way too much, and you'll feel terrible about this decision in the morning. Oh my God—" He wedged his knee in between mine, creating a space in which the air could pass over my exposed hip. I was trying to convince him to change his mind using reason when all of a sudden I burst into tears. It was at that precise moment that I became aware of the unmistakable sound of a zipper, and he laughed in my ear. “No-no-no-no...” My mouth was smashed against the seat, which caused any protests that I attempted to make to be muffled. I was unable to gather enough air to scream because of his weight, and I was unable to do so because I was unable to gather enough air to scream. While I fought helplessly, I couldn't believe that this guy, who I'd known for more than a year and who had never once shown me disrespect while I was dating Kevin, was attacking me in my own truck at the back of the frat house parking lot. I couldn't believe it as I struggled to defend myself. He ripped my pants down to my knees, and while he was trying to push them down further, I was redoubling my efforts to get away from him, and that's when I heard the fragile fabric rip. He ripped my pants down to the point where they were just above my knees. "Jesus, Jenna, I always knew you had a great a*s, but Christ, girl." "Jesus, Jenna, I always knew you had a great ass." Again, his hand thrust between my legs, and the weight was lifted for an instant; it was just long enough for me to draw in a deep breath and let out a piercing scream. After he had released my wrist, he smacked his hand over the back of my head and turned my face on the leather seat until I was unable to speak and was almost unable to breathe. Even after being set free, my left arm was of no use. I braced my hand against the floor of the cab and pushed, but the knots and aches in my muscles refused to cooperate. I bawled my eyes out onto the pillow as my tears and saliva mixed together under my cheek. "Oh God, please don't, please don't, stop stopping stopping stopping..." I detested the way that my feeble and helpless voice sounded. I didn't wait to find out whether he had changed his mind or was just repositioning himself before I noticed that his weight had momentarily lifted off of me. As I twisted and pulled my legs up, I could feel the pointed heels of my shoes tearing into the soft leather of the bench seat. I used this momentum to propel myself to the opposite side of the seat and scrambled for the handle. As my body prepared for full-on fight or flight mode, my ears filled with a rushing sensation of blood. After that, I came to a halt because I noticed that Conall was no longer present in the truck in any capacity. At first, I was at a loss to comprehend the reason why he was standing there, just beyond the door, with his back to me. After that, he had an abrupt jerking motion in his head. Twice. He swung his fists wildly in the direction of something, but none of his blows made contact with whatever it was he was trying to hit. I didn't look until he stumbled back against my truck, at which point I looked, and I didn't see what or who he was fighting until then. Conall threw futile punches of his own as blood poured from his nose. The other guy never took his eyes off of Conall as he threw two more sharp jabs at Conall's face, bobbing to the side as they circled each other, and Conall threw more jabs at Conall's face. The opponent that Conall faced never took his eyes off of him for a second. Conall finally ducked his head and charged forward with the aggression of a bull, but this effort proved to be his downfall as the unknown man easily landed an uppercut to the jaw of Conall. Conall's downfall was due to the fact that he charged forward with the aggression of a bull. When Conall was hit in the head by an elbow as it snapped back, the impact was so severe that it caused his head to snap up in a startled position. The second time around, he collided with the side of the truck, which threw him off balance and caused him to rush the person who was standing next to him. He grabbed hold of Conall's shoulders and yanked him in front of him with some force before delivering a knee strike to the man's chin with his knee. It appeared as though the entirety of the fight had been planned out and staged. Almost instantly, Conall was brought to his knees, where he began wailing and writhing in pain. The unidentified man was looking at the ground below him with his fists balled up and his elbows bent ever-so-slightly, as if he were getting ready to deliver another blow if it became necessary. There was no necessity for it to be done. Conall was very close to losing consciousness at that moment. As the feeling of panic gave way to shock, I curled up into a ball and huddled up against the far door, gasping for air and rolling around on the floor. I must have whimpered because he instantly turned his eyes to look at me when I did that. He stepped up to the door and peered inside after he had moved Conall out of the way with one booted foot. "You okay?" His voice was low and reticent throughout the conversation. The first thing that came to mind was to give a positive response. I couldn't help but nod my head. On the other hand, I was unable to. I was in no way okay at all. "I'm going to dial the emergency number. Do you need help with medical care, or should we just send the police over here?" I pictured the campus police arriving at the scene and the partygoers fleeing the house as the sirens wailed in the distance. I also pictured the partygoers running away from the house. Over half of my friends in that establishment were underage and drinking, and Sophie and Cal were just two of them. I had a lot of friends in that establishment. In the event that law enforcement officers showed up to the party, it would be expected of me to provide an explanation for what had transpired. I would be rejected by mainstream culture.