A/N: Wow. I didn't think I'd get such decent feedback. Thanks everyone and keep reviewing!

A/N 2: I'm posting chapters two and three today because I had time when the site was down.

Difficult Recollections

A sixteen-year-old Remy Hadley leaned against the wall of Jeremy Brennan's ballroom holding a plastic cup filled to the brim with Jack Daniel's. Yes, that's right, ballroom. His family was the wealthiest she new of, and he had invited her to his party while his parents were out. Nirvana and Garbage blasted around her as teens danced in mobs. She watched as her peers boozed up, got high, and in general tried their hardest to get wasted. Remy thought that the party invite meant she had finally been accepted into the 'in' crowd, but she was wrong. The only person who had spoken to her so far was Jeremy himself, as well as the few people he introduced to her. She had seen some of the guys checking her out, and to her satisfaction, even some of the girls. They wouldn't approach her though. They all knew who she was, the weird one that rarely made contact with other people. She and Jeremy were close because their parents were friends and they had grown up together, but none of the others really knew her, and none of them cared to find out.

As Remy took a long swig of her drink, she noticed a boy continuing to send her fleeting looks before turning away in embarrassment. She was sure his name was Brock Fischer and he was a grade ahead of her. She was surprised to see him there, because he was clean. As far as she knew, he had never used alcohol or drugs and wasn't into the party scene; academics and athletics were his thing. He was a friend of Jeremy's however, so that might have explained his presence. Brock was handsome, she had to admit. He looks sort of like Eddie Vedder. She smiled at herself for thinking that, trying not to laugh. In middle school she had sworn that she wouldn't develop obsessions with celebrities, but it appeared that she was finally straying awry from her former path.

She looked up again and to her astonishment, he had begun to walk towards her. Remy quickly downed the rest of her booze as he approached. He was extremely muscular. She wasn't sure how she could have missed that, even from afar.

"Remy, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. And Brock?"

"Yep." There was an awkward silence before he spoke again. "You're, um, you're…very good looking."

"A gentleman," she replied jokingly, though she blushed profusely. "I don't get that a lot."

"That's hard to believe. Not even from Jeremy?"

"Jeremy jokingly refers to me as his 'hot brainiac', but I'm not sure that counts."

Brock's face twisted into a look of bafflement. "Really? He's that insensitive? I was always under the impression that he was into you. Really into you."

"I don't think so," she laughed awkwardly. "We're only friends." He's my only friend.

"Well, I think he must have brain damage for not seeing what's in front of him." Brock took a step closer, making her face redden even more. "It's pretty crazy in here. Want to go somewhere we can just talk?"

"Sure," Remy replied, not seeing any harm in it.

He led her by the wrist from the ballroom to a flight of stairs. They proceeded until they reached a spacious guest room containing an armoire, a closet, a sofa, and a king size bed. She watched him take a seat on the edge of the bed, and sat next to him. "Jeremy says you're smart," he began. "You saved his ass in chemistry?"

"Sort of," she replied. "More like prevented him from blowing up the classroom on numerous occasions."

"Seriously?"

"No. But the guy can't tell the difference between sulfuric acid and iodine." Remy looked up from her feet smiling and their eyes met.

"I don't get why he doesn't like you…," Brock whispered, trailing off as he leaned in his head to kiss her. She jumped at the opportunity to release some of her pent up, pubescent-induced sexual tension. Some, but not all. The kiss quickly progressed into something more aggressive, and soon both adolescents had stripped down to their undergarments. When he had her pinned against the mattress, she pulled away.

"I…I don't think I want this. At least not now. Not this soon," Remy breathed, her chest heaving. Why don't I have my goddamn inhaler?

"You're doing this," came his reply. "You can't back out now." He kissed her again, but this time the contact was violent. Brock then repositioned his hands to hold down her arms and straddled her slender frame.

"Get. The fuck. Off me!" she shouted, lunging upward and biting him where his shoulder met his neck. She didn't release her grip until she tasted the coppery sensation of blood in the back of her mouth. Remy jerked back and spat Brock's own bodily fluid into his face. She struggled against his mass, squirming under him, hoping for the opportunity to land a strategically placed kick or punch. But the opportunity didn't come. He was just far too strong.

"Fuck is right!" he said hitting the side of her face with a hard back fist, the menace in his voice piercing into the depths of her fears. This was one of her fears, she realized; it had always been there subconsciously. It was even worse than the prospect of having a fatal genetic disease, simply because it was happening now. Then the realization kicked in. I'm being raped. She wouldn't give up, however. She needed to keep fighting.

Remy continued in her attempt to overcome him, but her endeavors all proved futile, as Brock still managed to force the rest of her clothes from her body. Every time he dug himself into her, he forced her spine to convulse, and he made it hurt. She tried so hard not to scream, not to show weakness, but even so, tears began to stream down her face. When she heard him grunt with the excursion, she found she could no longer take it. Remy let loose a cry of anguish, and to her dismay, she saw the satisfaction in his face. The door to the room burst open as Jeremy and another girl appeared in the frame.

"Remy! I heard you scream. Are you…" He found himself stopping as soon as he took in the scene before him. She gave him a desperate look, seeing his horrified expression. "Get the hell away from her!" he shouted.

Brock turned, grinning malevolently. "Jeremy! Come to join the fun?" And at that, Jeremy launched himself upon the other boy, ripping him away from Remy and tackling him to the floor. She heard pounding, and after several minutes, when she got up the courage to look over the edge of the bed, she saw Jeremy getting to his feet over a beaten and broken Brock, who was lying down with a bloody nose.

"Get. Out. Now," Jeremy said sternly. He glared at the girl he had been intending to sleep with. "You too." Brock and the girl both left as Jeremy crawled onto the bed and took a naked and scared Remy in his arms. The sobs that forced themselves from between her lips caused her body to shake uncontrollably. "It'll be alright," he whispered. "I'm here, Remy. It'll be alright." He held her until her crying subsided and she drifted into sleep. Jeremy rested her head on the pillows and covered her cold, bare form with a blanket. He stayed beside her for the rest of the night, keeping watch, as her protector.