I know exactly what she’s talking about. One night ruined my whole life. I will never have the life I’ve spent my life dreaming about. I blame too many drinks mixed with a tiny black dress that left nothing to the imagination. It’s funny. None of this happened last time I was intimate …show more content…
My mouth is a desert. There are no lies left to tell.. She clears her throat. The clock ticks. My palms sweat. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.
I better grow accustomed to lying anyway. There’s nothing to lie about, I remind myself. I did nothing wrong. I’m the victim here. This is hard to remember. Hundreds of labels echo through my head, sticking themselves to everyone involved. Sean. Fitzy. Paul. They’re ruined too. Have I ruined their lives? No, I’m the victim. This is hard to remember. Everyone’s telling me it’s my fault. It’s not my fault. Nobody forced anyone to drink or take drugs. This is hard to remember.
Everyone at the party was having a good time. Everyone now is having the worst time. Mrs. McCarthy taps on her escritoire absent-mindedly. She can’t blatantly explain that she sees lies glisten in my eyes. The clock ticks. “I’m concerned about the wellbeing of another student.” Mrs. McCarthy says after a long moment of silence. My fingers find their way along my scalp, tracing circles softly in my mane of golden hair in an attempt to distract