Hustle Vs Muscle

Chapter 32: Adults Are Useless

Mom tells me we're going to the D'amatos again. I just about flip out. I'm not going to their house after what happened the last two times D'amato and I met.

"You can't keep hating him forever." my mom says. "Don't you even know what he did to me?" I scream angrily. "Don't scream at me." my mom says. "The school took care of it. He won't do it again." "Okay fine." I say, rolling my eyes.

We drive to the D'amatos. Luke has homework to do, so he can't come. I wish he was here, with his jokes and his fourteen-karat grin. Anything to take my mind off this dread.

Fourteen minutes later, I'm in the D'amatos living room, texting Katrini, while my mom and D'amato's are yakking about bills, college, politics, coffee, blah blah blah. "D'amato, Ms. Perkins and I are going out for dinner. There's food in the fridge." says D'amato's mom. "Kay." he says. No! I thought we'd just be making a little chitchat and be on our way but no. I'm going to be alone here with D'amato for a full hour.

"No...Mom! Don't leave." I say frantically. "I....uh...will miss you." "Don't worry, sweetie. I'll call every fifteen minutes." my mom says. They wave as they leave the house. I sit on the couch, on my phone, while D'amato does the same. Twenty minutes pass by and nothing bad happens. This might be a normal night after all.

D'amato and I eat some casserole in the fridge. "This is boring." says D'amato. "Let's watch TV." After looking through the channels and through Netflix, we decide to watch The Office. I'm tense at first but then I enjoy it. It's a normal night after all!

But I don't notice D'amato scooting closer to me. He wraps his arm around my waist. I try to pull away. I feel like I might just vomit that casserole I ate, despite how well it was cooked. "D'amato, get your big-ass hands off of me!" I yell. I slap D'amato across the face. He cries and releases me. But before I can get away from D'amato, he has me pinned down on the couch once again. Talk about celebrating too early.

"What did I say about telling anyone about our little secret?" D'amato says, grinning down at me. "Told you they wouldn't believe you." Basically, that means the school didn't do anything about D'amato. They just "had a talk" with him and gave him a "warning." I hit him again, but he places his feet on my hands so I can't move. I struggle, fighting with every ounce of strength, but he's too heavy.

"So are we going to have that one on one practice I planned?" says D'amato. His hand squeezes me. I want to throw up. I want to run out of this door and run home as fast as humanly possible. But I can't, because I'm being pinned to the couch by a six foot two guy, or should I say, monster. He traces his fingers down my chest and thighs. The very action and how scared, uncomfortable and unsafe it makes me feel forces a scream from my mouth.

But screaming is useless. There is no one home who can hear me. Right now, I can't get anybody to help me. And it's clear telling my mom won't help. She'll just tell me to forgive him or something or make peace with him or walk away. And the school clearly doesn't do anything about this kind of thing. At this point, all adults are useless. But I can always fight back on my own. I kick D'amato off of me. I run upstairs without glancing back. I run into the guest bedroom. I'm safe!
But then D'amato grabs me from behind. I struggle but his arms are wrapped around me tight. Who would've thought this would be the first room he checked?

Why did I celebrate so early?

I kick him in the shin, but he just drags me towards the bed and pushes me down against the mattress, pinning me down. "Too bad your brother or your mom isn't here." grins D'amato. "Oh well, now we can do whatever we want." D'amato slides his hand across my body and the nauseous feeling intensifies. "Stop." I moan. "You want to stop?" laughs D'amato. "So soon? Relax, we got all the time in the world."

I kick at D'amato's stomach and try to get up, but he forces me back down. "Better not tell anyone." says D'amato. "Everything has a consequence."

I am relieved to leave his house. As soon as I get home, I run into my room. The one place where I am safe. I cry. I'm supposed to be a basketball player. Fierce and aggressive and strong and a hustler.

Not a toy for some macho boy to play with.