Fools

6- Noah

⚠️Sexual assault and mention of rape warning⚠️

Noah

Noah, what the absolute fuck did you think you were doing? I asked myself as I got home from Emily's. Putting my hand on Sam? What the fuck was that? And then I could feel him looking at me, questioning my actions, which I had no answer for him. Ugh, why did he make me feel so... so what was the word?

But I wasn't able to figure out the word because when I walked in my house I saw three men inside. Oh, just fucking great. It was poker night, how could I forget? I quietly shut the front door and went to the kitchen. I fucking hated poker night, specially the people- a certain someone- that I really hated.

I reached up into the cabinet for a cup.

The three men and my dad were sitting in the tv room around an old, beat up poker table. No one seemed to pay any mind to me, luckily. If I could just grab water and some food I could lock myself in my room all night. There was one person who I definitely didn't want to notice me. He was vile, disgusting, and-

And there was someone's body against my back. I stilled when a hand was placed on my hip. Randy, the disgusting, vile being and my father's oldest 'friend'. I lowered my hand and contemplated hitting the guy, but I knew it would only make things worse for me. So instead- feeling pathetic- I slowly turned around and in a seething whisper said, "get your fucking hands off of me."

"Oh, come on, Noah, that's no way to talk to your father's guest." I gritted my teeth. He had me trapped and he knew that. Stuck between the counter and him. "And we both know your old man would do worse. Well, you tell me; which is worse?" His cigarette smelling breath took over my senses like a plague as his face moved closer to my ear. His hand sliding down to my crotch, "getting your ass beat or showing me a good time?"

'A good time' meaning me being raped. "Fuck you," I spat at him, grabbing his hand and pushing it off of me. I was shaking with anger.

His hand gripped my jaw, forcing me closer to him. "See, no, that's what I'm trying to do to you."

That was it. I didn't care if my dad was going to hit me later. Randy was definitely worse. I shoved him hard enough that he stumbled back and hit his head on one of the cabinet doors. He winced then glared at me.

"Hey!" I heard my father yell from the tv room. Non of the other men could see us. "What the hell is going on in there?"

"I think your son needs some shapin' up, Mark," Randy spoke with a devious grin on his horrid face.

I flipped him off as I heard my dad stand up, but I ran out the door before my dad could grab me. I got in my car, put my key in the ignition and... and "come on, fucking start, you piece of shit!" And it finally started and I drove off.

*

"Noah, it's really late, why didn't you call me?"

I shrugged and let myself into Kaitlyn's house. She opened the door wider for me then shut it before following my up stairs to her bedroom. Her parents weren't home it seemed.

I sat down on her bed and watched as Kaitlyn closed her bedroom door. She was wearing a small, revealing pink tank top and cotton shorts that matched. "You just missed me that much?" She teased, stepping in between my legs.

"Mm," is the only response I gave her.

"My parents won't be home for a little while," she told me suggestively, her soft hands running down my arms.

"I'm not in the mood," I said and removed myself from her touch before laying down on her bed.

"Uh, okay... wanna watch a movie?"

I shrugged. I kind of wanted to cry, or punch a wall, or scream instead.

Kaitlyn sighed, laying down next to me. "What's wrong?" She knew me too well.

"My dad's shit-hole friends were over and-" and one of them was a perv and basically threatened to rape me. But I didn't want to tell her that. Plus, I could handle myself, and that would only make her worry. So, I turned over and wrapped my arms around her. I laid my head on her chest and she wrapped her arms around me and stroked my hair. "Nothing, they're just assholes," is all I said.

"I'm sorry, Noah."

I'm sorry, Noah, I'm sorry, Noah, I'm sorry, Noah.

I hated hearing that all the time, but I couldn't be mad. If I didn't even know how to cheer me up, how could I expect her to?

Then my mind wandered to Sam. I didn't know why, but I felt like he would know the right words to say or the right thing to do to comfort me... or maybe just call me a frickhead. I almost laughed. That dumbass.

'Frickhead' was definitely better than 'I'm sorry, Noah' I had decided.

**

Chapter 7 out soon! Thank you for reading <3

-Xoxo, Bert