Thank you all for still reviewing the story after I took so damn long getting it out. You guys are awesome!

There's only three chapters left after this one, but I've been planning one of them since before I started writing the story, and the other two for months, so hopefully it won't take me long. And I'll probably start on my next story (the Paige/Original Character story) right after that. Hopefully, I'll have the story done before the end of the month.

And guess what- no cliffhanger for this chapter. I'm way too excited after writing this, so I'll stop talking and let you read.

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"Paige," a female voice called from the other side of my door. Can I come in?"

I rolled over onto my back and put the half-consumed bottle under my pillow. "Yeah," I said, rubbing my eyes. Although I had had a lot to drink, I still didn't feel as happy as I should have. Michelle opened the door and came in.

"Are you doing okay?"

"I'm fine," I told her. Was I slurring my words?

"How did your date go?" Though you wouldn't know it from looking at her, Michelle was one of the most thoughtful and kind people around. She was shorter than me, with shoulder length hair she dyed jet-black. She usually wore revealing clothes, but still was one of the classiest people I knew.

"It was fine," I muttered, then reached under my pillow for the bottle. I unscrewed the top and was about to take another swig when Michelle stopped me.

"I think you've had enough," she said, pulling it away and screwing the top back on. "Do you want to talk about what's going on?"

"Why do you think something's going on?"

"Because you've been crying, and Dylan told me."

I sat up. "Dylan told you about Dean?"

"No. He just said something was going on."

I felt dizzy, and tried to pull the bottle away from her again. "Just because my rapist is on trial doesn't mean that something's going on!" I shouted. Thanks to the alcohol, I didn't care what I was saying or who I was saying it to. "Now just give me the bottle back! I'm thirsty!"

"Oh. . . Paige, I had no idea."

"Stop treating me like a kid! Give me the bottle!"

"Sweetie, you're already going to regret it tomorrow morning." She put her hand on my shoulder when she noticed how wobbly I was. "You need to drink some water and go to bed."

"I don't want water." I was in tears again. "I want to forget."

She nodded. "I know. But this," she motioned to the bottle, "isn't the way to do it."

"Then how do it?"

"You go to bed, deal with your hangover tomorrow morning, and then we'll talk."

I looked at her somberly. "Promise?"

She nodded. "I promise. But tomorrow morning, you're going to have other things on your mind."

"I didn't have that much to drink!"

"Tell me that tomorrow."

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I hated when other people were right.

Especially about me.

The next morning, as predicted, I had a massive hangover. But I wasn't the only one who did. Dylan and my mom had both partied a bit too much the night before, so we just walked around ignoring each other, drinking coffee and popping Advil. That afternoon, as promised, Michelle came by with an offer to go to the spa.

"I'm sick of feeling like a slut. I don't want everyone to see me that way anymore," I explained while we soaked out feet.

"I know what you mean, but the truth is, someone's always going to feel that way."

I stared at her. "You mean I'm always going to be a slut?!"

"I didn't say you're a slut. You're not. But you're gorgeous. And you're always going to be turning heads. It just doesn't always mean it's the good guys who's heads are turned. I think you've had to learn that, haven't you?"

I nodded, but didn't look up.

"Do you remember what you told me last night?"

"A little bit."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shrugged. "There's nothing to talk about right now. Maybe there will be tomorrow."

"What do you mean?"

"They haven't decided what's going to happen to him yet."

"You mean the jury?"

"Yeah."

"Is that why you were drinking last night?"

"That was part of it. The other part was because two guys came on to me last night. I was dressed like a slut again, and. . . well, it scared me. And then I ran off on my boyfriend. I haven't dealt with it well."

"When did this happen?"

"November."

She looked me in the eye. "Let me tell you something, Paige. Something I've only told a couple of people before."

By the tone in her voice, I could almost predict what she was going to say. "When I was in grade eight, I was on my way home from my friend's house. I cut through the park. And in the park, someone was hiding in the bushes. And that someone came out of the bushes and pulled me in there with him."

"Did he-?"

She shook her head. "I won't get into too many details, but before he had a chance to, a police officer came by on foot patrol. And the police officer found me just after he ran off."

"What did you do?"

"I gave the police officer a fake name, address and told him I was eighteen. He couldn't force me to press charges. Then I went home, told my mom I slipped on the ice on my way home, burned my clothes the next night in the fireplace, and told myself that it never happened."

"Did anything else happen?"

"It happened to another girl who fought him off and called the cops. She was brave enough to. I wasn't."

"But you were only thirteen!"

She shrugged. "Since then, I can't walk alone at night. I won't let anyone I know walk alone at night. And I haven't gone back to that park since. I wasn't even raped, and I still haven't dealt with it as well as you."

I smiled. "I don't think you'd be saying that if you knew all that I did."

"I think I would. Don't kill him, but Dylan told me about your breakdown. And he didn't tell me about Dean, but I was at the party when they got into a fight. I forced it out of him."

"You knew?"

"Yeah. But it was because I'm too nosy for my own good. But what I was saying before. You dealt with it a lot better than I ever could have. Whatever happens with the jury, there's nothing Dean can do to you."

"What do you mean? He could still get out."

"But he has no control over you anymore. And there's nothing he can do to change it. But whatever happens, I want you to call me, okay?"

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There was no word Monday morning.

"Still nothing?" Hazel asked on our way to lunch.

I shook my head. "I guess it means that there's still a chance."

"Of course there is. Hang in there, hon." We put our trays down, and just as I was about to take a bite when I felt my phone vibrate. I quickly pulled it out of my pocket.

"Paige, get your stuff. Dylan's going to drive you and Manny," my mom said. "Be waiting by the front doors. I'll call the school and take care of it."

"They have the verdict."

"They're reading it at two this afternoon."

I hung up, said a quick good-bye to Hazel, and while I rushed to find Manny, I ran- literally- into Spinner.

"What's wrong?"

"They have the verdict."

"Do you want me to come with you?" He didn't seem to care about Saturday night. He wasn't mad at me. I nodded. We quickly found Manny, picked up our stuff and were waiting for Dylan when he finally showed up.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded. It was the only action I could process. We piled into the car- Dylan and Manny in the front, Spin and I in the back. No one said anything the whole ride over. We made our way into the courtroom and sat at the front- Dylan on one side of me and Spinner on the other. The only two guys I needed. The rest of our "Survivors Club" joined in. Although not everyone had been there for the trial, all of us were there for the verdict. Some parents had come too. Officer Collins came in after them.

It took forty minutes for the judge to finally show up. Once he was finally came in, he spent another ten minutes talking. Finally he asked the jury "Foreperson" to stand up.

"On the count of breaking and entering in the first degree, how do you find the defendant?"

I gripped both Dylan and Spinner's hand tightly."Guilty," the woman said. I stopped breathing.

"On the count of menacing in the first degree, how do you find the defendant.

The woman looked down at the paper she was holding, then looked towards me and the other girls sympathetically. This was the charge for Dean harassing me. "Not guilty." A murmur broke out across the courtroom. The judge tapped his gavel. I still didn't breathe. My grip tightened on Dylan and Spinner's hands.

"And on the final count, rape in the first degree, how do you find the defendant."

This time, she didn't hesitate. "Guilty."

This time, the courtroom was much louder than before. I felt Spinner's hand on my back. The other girls were getting up. Finally, the words registered and I took a deep breath. My whole body started shaking. I released my hands and stood up. They both followed. I wrapped my arms around Spinner's neck. I was still shaking violently, but I held onto him tight.

"It's over," he said softly. "It's all over. He's going away for a long, long time."

I started crying again when he said that. Cried for everything. For being raped, for pressing charges, for being harassed, for going crazy, for going through the trial, but mostly tears of joy for it being over. Once I had relatively controlled myself, I turned to Dylan and hugged him.

"Good job, kiddo. If it wasn't for you, none of this would have happened." I held him tightly too, but this time grinned instead of crying. Once I let go of him, I turned behind me to see officer Collins.

"Thank you." The words didn't seem like enough for what he had done for me, but they were the best I could come up with. He had been the one who had convinced me to come forward, and he was the one who had really done all the work to get him convicted. "Thank you."