Page 35 of Rayne

I'm a broken mess.

Wednesday morning was a blur as I rushed into the drug store, buying Plan B. It was the single most embarrassing moment of my life—not because I was buying it, but because of why.

And now I'm conflicted. Part of me wants to run away and hide, but another part wonders if their words were true. Are they watching? Keeping tabs on me? Does that mean they don't want to hurt me?

Does it mean they don't… hate me?

Margot reaches over the table, grabbing my hand. She squeezes it, bringing me back to reality.

"What happened?" she repeats softly, concern all over her face.

"I can't tell you," I whisper, tears pooling in my eyes.

She frowns, tightening her hold. "You can tell me anything. You're my best friend," she says gently. "I'm really worried about you."

I laugh, tears spilling down my face. "You might not be afterwards. And I can't lose you."

"What are you talking about?" she murmurs. "We made a pact to be best friends forever. I'm not going anywhere."

Finally, I look up. I lock eyes with her, not speaking as I wait for her to come to the conclusion herself. Margot is a smart girl—and she knows me. And part of our friendship is sometimes I don't even have to speak and she knows exactly what I'm saying.

"Oh," she breathes out, stunned. "Oh…"

I pull my hand away, and she falls back into her seat, staring off into space. Our food is still on the table, forgotten, and I watch a range of emotion cross her face—realization, confusion, horror, confusion again.

"Please say something," I whisper desperately. "Anything."

Margot looks at me, eyes wide as the surprise stays on her face. "Really?" she asks, trying to clarify that she's understanding correctly.

I nod briskly. "It's a fucked-up situation."

She grabs her drink, downing the entire contents of her nearly full glass. I wait for her to finish, and when her glass clinks on the table, she lets out a long breath.

"Wow…"

"Do you hate me?" I ask nervously, feeling sick to my stomach.

Margot looks at me, still dumbfounded. "Of course not. I'm just… processing things. I think I have questions."

My body sags in partial relief. "Okay," I mutter. "What do you want to know?"

"Firstly, are you okay?" she asks, a serious expression on her face.

I shrug. "I don't know," I answer honestly. "It's really confronting and confusing."

"I can imagine," she mumbles. "How did this even happen?"

Sheepishly, I shrug again. "Hawk drew my key at the party. I was so blindsided but I didn't want to cause a scene. I had planned to walk away when we were away from the crowd, but he cornered me, then Jett appeared. Next thing I knew we were in the room, fighting."

Margot nods slowly. "I'm kind of following… continue."

"We fought for ages," I admit. "I was so mad at seeing them. And they were just such assholes. But eventually the fighting turned and before I could stop myself, we were having sex."

"Wait," she says, holding up her hand. "What do you mean the fighting turned?"

"It was just… different. I can't explain it. But afterwards, I was so mad. They just left me there and it felt like I had no control."

Margot's face hardens. "Rayne," she starts. "I'm going to ask you a serious question and I need you to be honest. Did they force themselves on you?"

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