Page 66 of Deliverance

I walk down the quad, doing everything I can to fight the numbness that has been practically consuming me for a week now. A week since Skyla’s engagement party. A week since Harry caught Maryia and I. A week since…therapy.

Just the idea of it; the word itself chills me to the bone. That’s because it’s not therapy. What Harry did to me is?—

“Hey, are you okay?” Skyla asks as she runs up beside me.

I muster up my most convincing smile as I nod.

“Of course. Why?”

“Because I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last several hundred feet. Now, tell me what’s going on.”

I open my mouth to tell her. Honestly, who else could I trust? Who else would I feel comfortable enough opening myself up like that? When I try to, though, nothing comes out. Like my entire capacity for speech has been stolen, leaving behind my silence. My obedience.

Just like he wants.

Maryia has avoided me like the plague since that night. Not like I really tried to reach out. I saw the look of fear in her eyes. She’s doing what she feels she needs to and that’s fine. I get it. I won’t lie and say I’m a little disappointed Bridgette hasn’t tried to…I don’t know, do anything? She saw her dad hit me. She knew he was furious; she even tried to stand up for me for a moment before she cowered away. Since then, it’s been life as usual. We pass each other, and we look the other way. She hangs all over Asher Putnam or Jeremy Stroughton. Doesn’t she even care? Doesn’t she wonder if I’m alright? Doesn’t she…

I feel my throat tightening and the burning of tears beginning to build behind my eyes as I close them tightly, shaking my head and clearing my throat before looking at Skyla.

“I’m okay. I don’t want to talk about it. Is that cool?”

She frowns like she wants to pry before nodding.

“Of course. I get it. It’s just weird to not see you cracking jokes or smiling. You’re always so happy.”

I give her a sad smile. On the outside, sure.

“I’ve got something that will make you smile,” Skyla says. “I heard that Carl Fuller got caught with his dick in a crab shell last night.”

I’m about to tell her that nothing really could make me smile right now before her words register.

Wait. What? A crab shell?

“What the fuck? Explain immediately,” I say.

“Yeah, apparently he started screaming at like two in the morning and his friend across the hall broke into his room and found him with his cock stuck inside an empty crab shell. I guess when he got hard, it caught on the inside and he got stuck,” Skyla says, doing her best to muffle her laughter.

I try to mentally visualize it, but I struggle because what the actual fuck? Who would look at a crab shell and think, man, I want to stick my dick in that? A cantaloupe? Sure. A pie? They made a whole movie series about it, understandable. A fucking dead crab carcass? What, did he take it home from dinner and think reduce, reuse, recycle?

“Wow,” I say with a shake of my head. “Really gives a new meaning to cracking a crab’s back.”

Skyla takes a sip of her water at the wrong time and proceeds to spit it out all over the cement sidewalk as she begins howling. I can’t help it. I start laughing too. A deep belly laugh, the kind that makes your sides ache and you want to stop but also never hope you do. It’s the kind of laughter that heals the broken bits of your soul. And I owe it all to Carl Fuller, his scratched up dick, and a dead crab. May he rest in peace.

We are still cracking up when a familiar douchebag steps in front of us, forcing Skyla to run into him. Oh my god, did he think that looked like an accident? Because he’s pathetic.

“Whoa, sorry about that.” Jeremy Stroughton smiles down at Skyla.

She smiles at him. “It’s fine.”

Jeremy takes a step closer, practically forcing himself against Skyla as he grins.

“I’m Jeremy. What’s your name?”

“Skyla.”

“I’m Maggie, in case you were wondering, Stroughton,” I taunt.

He laughs like I just told a joke; meanwhile, I’m giving him the most vile stare I can muster because I do not like whatever is going on here. The guy is a sleaze. He has a nasty reputation. A lot of…allegations. That’s why it shocked me so much to see Bridgette with him on occasion. Thought she only had eyes for Putnam.