JENNIE
Mouths are opening. Lips are moving without sounds. And the music is bouncing off of the walls, rattling my mind.
How long have I been standing here? When did I walk into the kitchen? I don't remember.
"Hey." June slides in front of me, and I shudder a little where I'm leaning against the counter. His face is a little off-kilter; I stare harder, trying to bring him into focus.
"Hey . . ." My reply comes soooo slow.
He smiles. "Are you okay?"
I nod. I think I do. "I feel weird, sort of," I admit and scan the room for Rosé. I hope she comes back soon.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, like I feel . . . odd. Like drunk, but slower, but then I have this energy at the same time." I wave my hand in front of my face . . . I have three hands.
June laughs. "You must have had a lot to drink."
I nod again. Look at the floor. Watch a girl cross in front of me at a snail's pace. "Is Rosé coming back?" I ask him.
June looks around. "Where did she go?"
"To find Wendy about my drink." I lean farther onto the counter. Probably half of my body's on it at this point. I can't really tell.
"She did? Hmm, I can help you find her." He shrugs. "I think I saw her go upstairs."
"Okay," I say. I don't think I like June, but I need to find Rosé, because my head is getting heavier and heavier.
I follow slowly behind June as he pushes through the crowd and heads toward the stairs. The music is amazingly loud now, and I find my head moving slowly back and forth, back and forth as I climb the steps.
"Is she up here?" I ask June.
"Yeah. She just went in here, I think." He nods his head toward the door across the hall.
"That's Lisa's room," I inform him, and he shrugs. "Can I just sit here for a minute? I can't walk anymore, I think." My feet feel heavy, but my mind feels like it's getting sharper, and this makes no sense to me.
"Sure, yeah, you can sit in here." June grabs hold of my arm and leads me into Lisa's old room. I stumble to the edge of the bed, and memories seem to take shape and swirl in the air around me: Lisa and me sitting on the bed, the same spot I'm in now. I kissed her for the first time. I was so overwhelmed and confused by my growing need to be close to her. My dark girl. That was the first time I got a glimpse of the softer, kinder Lisa. She didn't stay long, but it was nice to meet her.
"Where's Lisa?" I ask, looking up at June.
An expression crosses his face, then disappears as he chuckles. "Oh, Lisa isn't here, and you said you were sure she wasn't coming, remember?" He closes the door and locks it behind him.
What's going on? My mind reels with the possibilities, but my body feels too heavy to move. I want to lie down, but an alarm is screeching through my head telling me to fight it. Don't lie down! Keep your eyes open!
"O-open the door," I say and try to stand, but the room begins to spin.
As if on cue, there's a knock at the door. Relief floods over me when June unlocks the door and it opens to reveal Wendy.
"Wendy!" I moan. "He's . . . he's doing something." I don't know how to explain it, but I know he was going to do something.
She looks at June, who gives her a sinister smile. Looking back at me, she asks simply, "Doing what?"
"Wendy . . ." I call for her again. I need her to help me leave this haunted room.
"Stop whining!" she snaps, and I lose my breath.
"What?" I manage to say.
But Wendy just smiles up at June while she digs her hand through the bag she's brought in. When I moan again, she stops and glares at me. "God, do you ever shut up? I'm so sick of hearing you bitch and complain all the damn time."
My brain isn't working correctly—Wendy can't be saying these things to me.
She rolls her eyes. "Ugh, and that stupid innocent pout—like give it a fucking rest, already." After a couple more seconds of digging, she says, "Found it . . . here," and she hands a small object to June.
I almost fade out, but a little beep brings me back to consciousness . . . for at least a few more seconds.
I see a little red light, like a teeny-tiny cherry.
Like the cherry vodka sour. Wendy, June, Nancy, Rosé. The party. Oh no.
"What did you do?" I ask her, and she laughs again.
"Didn't I tell you to stop whining? You'll be fine," she groans and walks toward the bed. There's a camera in June's hand. The red light shows that it's on.
"G-get away from me," I try to yell, but it comes out a mere whisper. I try to stand to my feet, but I stumble back to the bed. It's soft . . . like quicksand.
"I thought you . . ." I begin.
But Wendy puts her hands on my shoulders and pushes me back against the mattress. I can't get back up. "You thought what? I was your friend?" She kneels on the bed, hovering over me. Wendy's fingers grip the bottom of my dress and begin to pull it up my thighs. "You were too busy being a whore going back and forth between Rosé and Lisa to realize that I've actually always despised you. Don't you think if I really gave a shit about you I would have told you that Lisa was only dating you to win a bet? Don't you think a friend would have warned you?"
She's right, and once again my idiocy is glaringly obvious. The sting of betrayal is multiplied by the fuzziness in my head—and when I look at Wendy now, the red-haired devil, her face is twisted, distorted in the most evil way imaginable, and the glow of her dark eyes sends a chill through me.
"Oh, and by the way." She laughs. "I hope you had fun waiting on Lisa to show up on her birthday. Amazing what I can do with one little text. So a video camera must be so much worse, huh?"
I try to fight her off, but it's impossible. She easily removes my fingers from where I've dug them into her arms and continues pulling on my dress. I close my eyes and imagine Lisa bursting through the door to rescue me, my knight in black armor.
"Lisa will find . . . out," I threaten weakly.
"Ha ha, yeah—that's the point. Now stop talking."
Another knock sounds at the door, and again I pointlessly try to push her off of me.
"Close the door—hurry," June says, and when I crane my neck toward the door, I'm not surprised to find that Nancy has joined us.
"Help me get her dress off," Wendy says.
My eyes flutter, and I try to shake my head, but it doesn't work. Nothing works. June is going to force himself on me, I know it. This was Wendy's plan for this party. It was never meant to be a going-away party for me. It was meant to destroy me. I have no idea why I ever thought she was my friend.
Nancy's hair falls onto my face when she climbs onto the bed next to me, and Wendy pushes me up and rolls over to get better access to the back of my dress.
"Why-y-y?" My voice is broken, and I'm vaguely aware of the tears on my cheeks, now wetting the sheets on the bed.
"Why?" June echoes, bringing his face close to mine. "Why? Your asshole girlfriend taped herself fucking my sister—that's why." His warm breath on my face feels like mud.
"Whoa!" Nancy says loudly. "I thought you said you were only taking some pictures of her!"
"We are . . . and maybe a little video," Wendy responds.
"No way! Hell no, dude—you can't have him rape her!" Nancy shouts.
"He's not . . . Jesus. I'm not, like, psychotic. He's just going to touch her and make it look like they're fucking so that when Lisa sees the tape she'll fucking lose it. Just picture her face when she sees her innocent little whore of a girlfriend getting fucked by June." Wendy laughs. "I thought you were into this," she hisses at Nancy. "You said you were."
"I'm into pissing her off, but you can't tape this shit." Nancy is whispering, but I can hear her clear as day.
"You sound like her." Wendy turns me back over after removing my dress completely.
"Stop," I whimper. Wendy rolls her eyes, and Nancy looks like she might vomit any second.
"I don't know about this anymore," Nancy says, panicked.
Wendy grabs her shoulder viciously and points. "Well, there's the door, then. If you're going to be a pussy about it, go downstairs and we'll join you in a few."
Another knock at the door, and I hear Bambam's voice. "Wendy, are you in there?" he says through the wood. Not him, too.
"Shit," Wendy mutters. "Yeah, um, I'm talking to Nancy. Be out in a minute!"
I open my mouth to scream, but her hand clamps down over my face to silence me. It's sticky and smells like alcohol.
I try to look at Nancy for help, but she turns away. Coward.
"Go downstairs, babe. I'll be right there. She's . . . she's upset. Girl stuff, you know?" she lies, and despite all of this mess, I can't help but be relieved that Bambam seems oblivious to his cruel girlfriend's intentions.
"Okay!" he shouts.
"Come over here," Wendy quietly instructs June. Then she touches my cheek. "Open your eyes."
They open, barely, and I feel June's hand trail up my thigh. Fear shoots through me, and I close them again.
"I'm going downstairs," Nancy finally says when June brings the small camera in front of his face.
"Fine, lock the door," Wendy snaps.
"Move over," June says, and the bed shifts under me when Wendy climbs off and he takes her place. "You hold it."
I try my hardest to replace June's hands with Lisa's in my mind, but it's impossible. June's hands are soft, too soft, and I try my hardest to replace them with something, anything. I picture the softest blanket that I had as a child touching my skin . . . The door closes, signaling Nancy's exit, and I whimper again.
"She's going to hurt you," I choke, keeping my eyes tightly closed.
"Nah, she won't," June replies. "She'll want to make sure no one sees this, so she won't do shit." His fingers trace along the top of my panties, and he whispers to me, "This is the way the world works."
I gather up all the strength I can and try to throw him off me, but I only manage to make the bed shake a little.
Wendy laughs some evil sound. "Lisa is a dick, okay?" she yells, putting the camera in my face. "And she's always fucking with people: she fucked with June's sister, she fucked with me, she led so many girls on, fucked them, then tossed them aside. Until you, that is. Why she likes you so much will never make any sense to me." Her tone is full of disgust.
"Jennie!" Rosé's voice booms from somewhere, and Wendy covers my mouth again as I hear pounding at the door.
"Keep quiet," she commands. I try to bite her hand. She reaches over and slaps me across the face, but fortunately I barely feel it.
"Open the fucking door, Wendy—let me in!" Rosé shouts.
Is she in on this, too? Was Lisa right about her? Is everyone around me trying to hurt me? The thought isn't impossible: nearly everyone I've trusted since coming to college has betrayed me. The names just keep piling up.
"I'll break the door—I'm not fucking around. Go get Bambam!" I hear her yell, and Wendy immediately removes her hand from my mouth.
"Wait!" she yells, going to the door. But it's too late. The door bursts opens with a loud crack, and June's hand is no longer on me. When I open my eyes, he's backing away from me quickly as Rosé strides into the room, her presence filling it.
"What the fuck!" she yells, rushing toward me.
A blanket is thrown over my body by someone as I try to reach for her.
"Help me," I beg her, and pray that she isn't involved in this nightmare. That she can actually hear me.
She stalks toward Wendy and grabs the small camera from her hands. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Dropping it to the ground, she stomps on it repeatedly.
"Chill out, dude, it was a joke," she says and crosses her arms in front of her just as Bambam enters the room.
"A joke? You put something in her drink and you're up here with a video camera while June tries to fucking rape her! That's not a goddamn joke!"
Bambam's mouth falls open. "What?"
Ever the manipulator, Wendy points an accusatory finger at Rosé and starts crying on command. "Don't listen to her!"
Rosé shakes her head. "No, man, it's true. Go ask Hanbin. She asked him for a benzo—and now look at Jennie! The camera they were using is right there." She points to the ground.
Holding the blanket against me, I try to sit up again. I fail.
"It was a prank. No one was going to hurt her!" Wendy says with a fake chuckle that seems meant to hide her maliciousness.
But Bambam looks at his girlfriend in horror. "How could you do that to her? I thought she was your friend!"
"No, no, baby, it's not as bad as it seems—it was June's idea!"
June throws his arms up, also wanting to avoid blame. "What the fuck! No, it wasn't my idea! It was yours." He points to Wendy and looks at Bambam. "She has a fucked-up obsession with Lisa . . . it was her idea."
Shaking his head, Bambam turns to leave the room, but seems to change his mind as he swings his fist through the air, connecting with June's jaw. June crumples to the floor, and Bambam makes toward the door again. Wendy starts after him.
"Get away from me! We're done!" he yells and disappears.
Circling, looking at everyone in the room, she yells, "Thanks a fucking lot!"
I want to laugh at the irony of her planning this horror show, then blaming everyone else when it backfires in her face. And were I not lying here, catching my breath, I would laugh.
Rosé's face hovers above mine. "Jennie . . . are you okay?"
"No . . ." I admit, feeling dizzier than ever. At first it was only my body that was slow; my mind was clouded only slightly, but now I can feel it becoming more and more affected by the drug.
"I'm sorry I left you alone. I should have known better." After Rosé tucks the blanket more tightly around me, one of her arms hooks under my legs and the other settles across my back, and she lifts me from the bed.
She starts carrying me out of the room, but she stops in front of June, who is just picking himself up off the floor. "I hope when Lisa finds out about what you did, she fucking kills you. You deserve it."
I'm slightly aware of all the gasps and whispers going on around me as Rosé carries me through the crowded house. I don't care, though. I just want to escape from this place and never look back.
"What the hell?" I recognize Ten's voice.
"Can you go upstairs and get her dress and purse?" Rosé asks quietly.
"Yeah, sure, man," Ten responds.
Rosé backs through the front door, and cold air hits me, making me shiver. At least, I think I'm shivering, but I can't really tell. Rosé tries to tighten the blanket around me, but it keeps slipping. I'm not any help, since I can barely move my arms.
"I'm going to call Lisa as soon as I get you into my truck, okay?" Rosé says.
"No, don't," I groan. Lisa will be so mad at me. The last thing I want is to be screamed at when I can barely keep my eyes open.
"Jennie, I really think I should call her."
"Please, no." I begin to cry again. Lisa is the only person I want to see right now, but I don't want to know how she'll react when she finds out what happened. If she had been the one to show up instead of Rosé, what would she have done to June and Wendy? Something that would've landed her in jail, I'm sure.
"Don't tell her," I say again. "None of it, shhh."
"She'll find out anyway. Even with the video destroyed, too many people know what happened."
"No, please."
I hear Rosé's frustrated sigh as she shifts my body into one arm so she can pull the passenger door of her truck open.
Ten comes back as Rosé places me on the cold seat. "Here's her stuff. Is she okay?" he asks with obvious concern.
"Yeah, I think so. She's on benzo."
"What the hell?"
"It's a long story. Have you ever taken it?" Rosé asks.
"Yeah, once, but only half, and I passed out after an hour. You better hope she doesn't start hallucinating. Some people have crazy reactions to that stuff."
"Shit," Rosé groans, and I can picture her twisting her lip ring between her fingers.
"Does Lisa know?" Ten asks.
"Not yet . . ."
The two of them continue to discuss me as if I'm not there, but I'm relieved when the heater in the truck finally shifts from blowing cold air to warm.
"I need to get her home," Rosé finally says, and within seconds she's in the truck next to me.
Looking at me with a worried expression, Rosé says, "If you don't want me to tell her, where do you want to go? You can come to my place, but you know how pissed she'll be when she finds out."
If I could form an actual sentence, I'd tell her about our breakup, but since I can't, I make a sound that is something between a cry and a cough. "Mother," I manage.
"You're sure?"
"Yes . . . no Lisa. Please," I breathe.
She nods, and the truck begins to move down the street. I try to focus on Rosé's voice as she talks on the phone, but in my attempts to remain sitting up straight, I lose track of what she's said, and within minutes I'm lying across the seat.
Giving up, I just close my eyes.