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Ava
3 - Cinnamon

3 - Cinnamon

Ava ran down the darkened street, away from Mark and his romantic dinner and his wine. She was pretty sure she had been drugged. She had to have been. Dried leaves crunched under her boots. The streetlights were blaringly bright and everything had a darkened aura about it, as though she were going to pass out again. Ava puked in some leaf ridden bushes and realized she was crying. The streets were silent around her, long dark shadows between houses, and it was just her and the night. It was too far for her to walk home, and Ava stopped, wiping off her mouth, which tasted nasty from spew and Mark’s garlic breath. The world was a blur of tears around her, and she reached into her bag for her phone.

11:30PM. Her parents were going to be so pissed.

She called Elizabeth.

“He did what!” Elizabeth screeched. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you. Stay there.”

Ava told her what street she was on and disconnected her phone. She wiped at her face, realizing there was still some cum remnants on it. She needed to take a shower and it felt wet in between her legs. She needed to wash Mark off of her. She never wanted to see him again! Why had she gone to his romantic evening? She should have claimed sickness the moment she realized he was taking her to his apartment! Had she somehow led him on? She didn’t think she had. She hated him. She wanted to kick him in the junk again. She cried.

Elizabeth came fifteen minutes later.

Ava got in her old Toyota corolla, clutching her bag to her chest.

Elizabeth lit cinnamon incense in her room so she always smelled like cinnamon. The smell was comforting.

“What did he do to you?” she demanded. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch!”

Ava wiped at her face, realizing she looked terrible. How was she going to explain her state to her parents? She just wanted to go home where she could cry into her pillow.

“He… he… had sex with me!” Ava blurted out. “It was terrible!”

“Did he rape you?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes. He got me drunk first. I think he may have spiked my wine with something.”

Elizabeth clutched the wheel of her car so tight her knuckles whitened. She rarely got angry, but when she did it was scary. Her red hair hung prettily around her face. She wore eyeliner and had glitter on her eyelids. Ava thought she was beautiful. Suddenly she felt so violated and ashamed she couldn’t stand it.

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“You should report him,” Elizabeth said.

“No! Please! I just want to go home!” Ava said. “Please take me home.”

“What about your parents?”

And what about them? They were already going to be pissed she was half an hour, now forty-five minutes late.

“It was like in my demon dream, Elizabeth! I couldn’t breathe! And it was so bad! I’m bleeding!” Ava couldn’t help sounding somewhat hysterical.

“Let’s take you home, hon,” said Elizabeth, pulling out into the street.

“I kicked him in his loins.” Ava sniffed, and it smelled like cum. She wanted to blow her nose.

“Good! That’s what I’m going to do to that bastard!”

“Please don’t,” said Ava, more like begged. “Let’s just forget tonight ever happened. I’m not seeing him again.”

Elizabeth didn’t say anything.

Ava looked at her phone and cried harder when she saw a voicemail from her mom and dad and one from Mark.

“That ass wipe just called you? Give me the fucking phone!” demanded Elizabeth.

“No, Elizabeth, don’t!”

But Elizabeth was already on Ava’s phone, calling Mark and swearing at him, telling him that she was going to kill him and that he was a piece of shit, and then Ava blacked out again.

She stood, swaying a little, in her parents’ glaringly bright kitchen. Her mom stood in front of her, and her dad sat at the table, a glass of blood red wine in front of him, and Ava vaguely wondered if it was sangria. Her dad’s bald head reflected in the bright light. The light hurt. Where was Elizabeth? Ava didn’t remember getting home, but the time on the microwave said it was 12:30AM.

“Mark called. What did you do to that poor, Christian boy?” demanded her mom. Her mom’s voice slurred a little, so Ava could tell she was drunk.

“He… he… had sex with me!” Ava cried out, hating to admit it and knowing that it was a bad idea, but the words just kind of tumbled out.

“You did what?” her mom screeched. She slapped her. The slap stung, bringing more tears to Ava’s eyes. “You’re like a whore, except you’re not getting paid.”

She was a whore? Ava cried.

“No mom!” she begged. “He drugged me!”

“I refuse to believe it.”

Ava trembled. Her cheek burned.

Her dad wouldn’t look at her. She just realized that.

“Now apologize to your father,” said her mom. “How dare you have sex before marriage, and we saw you out in that car with that friend of yours, kissing—”

Ava and Elizabeth had kissed?

“I forbid you from seeing her again.”

Ava sobbed. “No, mom.”

“I absolutely forbid you! Now take a shower!”

“I’m sorry, dad,” Ava managed to say, but he remained silent, just staring at his wine glass.

What a fucking nightmare. Why didn’t she remember kissing Elizabeth? She remembered Mark.

Ava wanted to take a shower more than anything.

“And you’re drunk,” her mom said. “You clearly seduced that poor boy.”

“No.”

“Now take a shower! I’m not saying it again!”

Ava stumbled to the bathroom. She wished she could remember kissing Elizabeth. She wondered, vaguely, if Elizabeth tasted like cinnamon. All she could taste in her own mouth was bile and tears. In the bathroom she shut the door and locked it behind her. Had Elizabeth’s lips been soft? Was she a better kisser than Mark? Ava didn’t even want to think about that dick head. Had she really led him on? There were splotches of blood on her underwear when she took them off. She hurt. She turned the water on scalding hot and got in the shower. She felt so ashamed and violated she wanted to puke again. She let Mark’s remnants wash off her and swirl down the drain.

She was never letting a boy touch her again.