finding permanence

11: Sam

When Max said he was scared I fell in love with him, I swear my heart stopped. I haven't fallen in love with him, but I won't lie and say it didn't hurt when he said the thought worried him.

Is it so ridiculous to think that we could be good together? That maybe I could fall in love with him?

I think it's more insane to him to think that he could fall in love with me. Because he probably can't. He falls in love with girls like the blonde Lola Bunny he drooled over the entire night.

Light haired sorority girls who have 2 brain cells is his type. And I'm fucking glad that I'm not like that.

First of all, I would never join a sorority. It's basically like paying for friends and parties. Which if that's what you're into I guess it's good, but I don't need to surround myself with a bunch of girls who claim my friends but are probably talking shit about me behind my back at the same time.

I'm confident in the person who I've become. And if that's not someone Max wants to be with, then it's his own damn loss.

Anyways, I left the party pretty early. Max left with the blonde and I lost my party mood. And I didn't really feel like drowning myself in alcohol to forget about it.

I hear Del at the door and I'm ready to hound her for answers about her boarderline date with Scott.

"Finally, you're home. Can we please watch Hocus Pocus?" I walk to the front door. Rydell looks like she's on the verge of a panic attack. "What's wrong. I swear to god Prescott Bridges if you hurt her in any way, I know how to cover up murder."

"No one needs to be murdered," Rydell turns towards me. "We had a good night. I'm the one who ruined it."

"You didn't ruin anything. How could that possibly be your fault?" Scott questions and all of a sudden I am very confused.

"I'll see you later Scott. I have Sam with me, I'll be fine. Thanks again for tonight though." And with that, she shuts the door and turns around, not looking me in the eyes. Oh shit. She's definitely going into a panic attack.

All of a sudden, I'm very glad that I left the party early and didn't drink.

She's hyperventilating and I go into instant serious mood. I walk her into the living room and sit her on the couch spilling out words of comfort in efforts to get her breathing to slow down.

She's breathing so hard that it looks like she's on the verge of passing out. I take her hand and put it on her wrist, but she instantly starts scratching her body. Like deeply scratching.

"Rydell quit it," I tell her trying to take hold of her hands to stop. She scratches too deep, drawing blood. "Shit."

I finally get a good grasp on her wrists, but she's trashing them around, trying to get out of my hold. "Let go. It hurts. I don't want it. I don't want to feel it. Please make it stop. I don't want to feel them." Her words are tight and almost incoherent with her sobs.

"Feel what? Del you're hurting yourself. What don't you want to feel?" She looks up at me with a pained expression.

"His hands. I don't want to feel his hands. Please. I- I can't breathe."

"Ok. Ok stay right here. I'm getting your medicine." If the anxiety attacks ever get to be too much, she has Xanax to stop it.

When I come back, she's tearing at her skin again.

"Fuck. Del stop." I take her hands and force the pill into her mouth, prompting her to swallow it.

After about 5 minutes, the medicine kicks in. "Sorry," her voice is small.

"Don't apologize. But what the fuck is going on Del? Did Scott do something. Did he put his hands on you, because I fucking swear-"

"No. No, this had nothing to do with Scott."

"Whose hands were you talking about Rydell?"

I am truly going to hunt down whoever put their hands on her and make sure they regret it.

"My grandpa's".

"I don't understand. Why were you feeling his hands on you?"

"He died. I just got the call from my mom tonight."

I sigh. But I'm still so confused, "Fuck Del. I'm sorry. Why'd you start scratching yourself though?"

She laughs a humorless laugh, "I'm not sad about it. In fact, I'm actually very relieved."

And that's how I found out about what Rydell's Grandpa did to her. I feel sick to my fucking stomach. I hate that she had to go through all of that. I hate that she went through all of it alone. And I hate that she couldn't tell me about it sooner.

"Why didn't you tell anyone. Someone could've helped you."

"I wasn't going to take any risks. If I told someone, he might've done the same thing to Andy. And I couldn't live with myself if she had to go through it. So, I dealt with it. And by the time I was old enough to fully understand what happened, it was too late. No one would believe me. Plus, it doesn't matter anymore. He's dead."

"Is his friend dead too?"

"I have no idea, it's not something I'd particularly like to think about."

"And now, you want to go to his funeral?"

"I think I need to. I don't think I'll ever get any closure if I don't see his body go 6 feet under."

I nod my head slowly. I can see why she took precautions to make sure no one found out. She was trying to protect her sister. "And the only other person who knows about this is Scott?" I'm a little hurt that he knew before me. I feel like I've been a bad friend. I've been too concerned with my stupid crush that I couldn't even see how miserable my best friend was.

"Scott knows bits and pieces of it. He knows I was sexually assaulted. He knows that it happened in a closet. But he doesn't know the context of it or who did it."

I give another slow nod. "Ok then. Let's clear up your schedule, book you a flight, and get you some closure then."