Page 10 of Distortion
I pick it up and heft it over my shoulder. Jack appears to be angry again, but I can’t pinpoint what I’ve done. Perhaps it’ll come to me when I inevitably think about these interactions later.
I follow him to the front door, raising my sunglasses onto my forehead.
He produces a keycard and swipes it over a pad on the gray stone wall. The door unlocks, and I follow him inside, stamping down my trepidation. It can’t be worse than The Heath, I tell myself, and I survived that for almost a decade.
Inside is dark and I squint, trying to adjust as I hear Jack walking away from me quickly, further into the house. A sixth sense honed over ten years in a place where a bully was just as likely to be a fellow resident as a staff member has me swallowing hard, not liking this at all.
I hear a switch being flicked. Light and sound assail my senses, making me flinch and draw the sunglasses back over my eyes.
I finally see that the foyer is full of guys, members of the fraternity, I guess. They’re all staring at me and talking amongst themselves, openly perusing my face and body as they talk. A couple of them whistle loudly and I cringe at the sounds.
‘Hey, Shade, I don’t want to alarm the seniors, but one of the pledges has a pussy!’
‘I think you’re in the wrong house, honey!’
‘I thought you said she was retarded. She doesn’t look like it.’
‘Look at those tits and that ass! She bunking with all three of you?’
‘She can stay with me tonight!’
‘Can we do a lottery to decide who gets to fuck her every night?’
‘She ain’t the frat bike, Eddy!’
‘I can make her want it.’
‘Would you like that, baby?’
I take an uncertain step back as the comments, remarks, and voices charge my defenses. More high-pitched whistles make me cower, and when one of them with a wide, leering grin on his face reaches out to finger the lapel of my blazer, I find my back flat against the door, my hands balling into fists at my sides as I prepare for unwanted touches.
‘Ok, that’s enough!’ I hear Jack lazily call out.
The hand recedes, and I just stop myself from looking at my stepbrother in relief. He probably told them to do this. He’ll remember enough about me to know that shit like this is torture for me.
‘Hey, baby, why don’t you come sit on my lap?’
I look for the source of the voice and find myself staring at the table where Jack is now sitting with two others. The many frat brothers who gave me such a delightful welcome are largely dispersing already. Guess they have better things to do than throw lewd comments and gawk at Jack’s sister.
Good.
I walk to the table calmly, pretending I’m not freaking out, and cast my eyes over the guys sitting with my stepbrother. These must be the other two seniors saved from last year’s cull. It was the dark-haired one who asked me to sit on his knee. He’s wearing a black Oxford with the top three buttons undone and a black blazer over it with some dark jeans. Black geometric tattoos creep up the side of his neck, and I can’t help but follow the lines of them, letting out asmall sigh as my mind begins to relax a little. I take in his aristocratic features and his slightly square jaw. His nose is the only thing that isn’t perfect. It’s slightly twisted as if it’s been broken before.
He moves back, making space between him and the table as if he really thinks I’m going to plant myself on his lap. He takes a sip of his drink as he peruses me like a curiosity.
I tilt my head and look down my nose at him as I give my best impression of Ms. Tremaine, the woman they brought in to teach me etiquette, I suppose at John’s behest, as none of my much luckier peers at The Heath were ever subjected to her and her knuckle-rapping tendencies.
‘No, thank you,’ I tell him, looking him over with practiced disdain. ‘I’d rather not.’
He seems to choke on his drink for a moment, and I ignore the spluttering as I take in the table as a whole.
‘I’m Daisy,’ I say, sort of wishing I hadn’t chosen such a silly, childish moniker now.
The name ‘Marguerite’ is stronger, but it’s too late. I’m committed.
I look more closely at the dark-haired guy in front of me whose eyes are now narrowed at me.
‘And you are?’
