We spend almost an hour at the art gallery, milling around the exhibition while Cameron tells me about the photographer who took each picture. They mostly seem to be friends or acquaintances of his, people who he met at art school – like Jade, who majored in painting before dropping out.

Jade and Kitty walk alongside us, lost in their own private conversation. I can’t hear what they’re talking about, but every now and again I hear Kitty giggle at something Jade’s said.

Sometimes the photographer is standing near his or her work, explaining the meaning or the composition to passersby. We have brief conversations with them, before moving on to the next one. Cameron knows everyone, and judging from the way most of the females we encounter flutter their eyelashes at him, or stick out their chests and get all giggly the second we approach, I’m guessing he’s hooked up with a fair amount of them too.

Flatteringly, Cameron seems mostly disinterested in all the girls giving him bedroom eyes as we pass though. He seems happy just to talk about the photographs on display, and about himself. I learn that Cameron grew up in Olympia, and he’s been living in Portland the last three years to be close to the art school. He has a younger brother, his parents are divorced, and his mom got remarried last year to a “fifty-year-old fuckboy” she met on Tinder.

After he graduates he wants to travel Europe, maybe live in Amsterdam for a year.

He wants to be a photojournalist eventually, or an art director.

He doesn’t ask me anything about myself, for which I’m grateful – I’m still super nervous, even after he’s pretty much told me his whole life story. Even though this isn’t really a proper date – Cameron and I are just here to support the real date, Jade and Kitty – it still feels like one.

From time to time Cameron runs a hand through his dark curly hair, or plays with his lip ring. I can certainly see what it is that makes him so popular with girls. Besides being drop dead gorgeous, he’s confident and friendly and so easy to talk to. And he’s so normal and uncomplicated. Normal life, normal dreams. Just your standard player, predictable and a dime-a-dozen. There are a million guys out there exactly like him, and somehow that’s weirdly reassuring.

After making our way around the entire gallery, we finally stop in front of a massive photo in a simple wooden frame. The photograph is of a beach, ripples of sand caught in the moment that a light wind lifts them into the air. There are no people, no sign of civilization, save for one odd detail – a large black tire washed up on the shore, it’s once silver hubcap crusted over with rust.

Waves crash against a rock far out at sea, sending eddies of white foam into the air.

There’s a certain symmetry, or maybe the quality of the light, which makes the photograph more than just a picture of wreckage – it’s a work of art. The whole scene is perfectly framed, perfectly timed.

As I stare at the photograph, I realize that the scene is oddly familiar. I’ve been there before, to that beach, but I don’t know when.

I feel a sudden weight around my neck; I look down and see the silver serpent ring glinting on its chain, somehow heavier than before. I instinctually grab it, wrapping my hand around it as if to block it from the image. Thankfully, Cameron doesn’t seem to have noticed. He’s staring at the photograph with an eyebrow cocked, like he’s scrutinizing some tiny detail.

“It’s an amazing photograph,” I say. “Do you know the photographer? I want to ask where it was taken.”

“He’s standing right in front of you,” he says, his pale blue eyes twinkling as he smirks. “I took that picture at-”

“Saving the best for last, right Cam?” Jade slaps Cameron on the back, interrupting him as he and Kitty join us.

“I guess,” Cameron says, looking at the photo thoughtfully. “I dunno about this one. It’s not my usual subject.”

He looks pointedly at me as he says the word ‘subject’, making me feel like I need to say something, anything.

“What’s your usual subject?” I ask, not sure if it’s a stupid question or not.

“Beautiful girls,” he says. “Like you.”

“You wouldn't think it, but Cam’s really good,” Jade says. “Show her more of your work. Show her Danica. Or The Window."

Cameron takes his phone out of his pocket, and swipes for a while until he finds the picture he’s looking for. He turns the screen around so Kitty and I can see.

A girl with caramel-colored skin sits in front of a window, her back to the camera. Her face is turned slightly to the side, so that the viewer can just make out her wistful, faraway expression. She’s totally naked; sunlight caresses the delicate curve of her waist.

It’s sensual yet innocent, relaxed yet full of sadness.

“Sexy,” Kitty says.

“Thanks,” Cameron says. “I’m always looking for new models.”

He leans into me, suddenly pushing my hair back behind my ear, hooking a finger under the spaghetti strap on the left side of my dress and letting it fall off my shoulder. He nods, as if pleased with the adjustment.

“Pretty good. You should let me photograph you sometime,” he says. “How about it Ashling? We could make magic together.” He bites his lower lip, playing with his lip ring, and hooking me in with his hypnotically blue eyes.

This guy’s a player on a whole other level. I’ve known him less than an hour and he’s already trying to undress me in the middle of an art gallery.

“I’ll pass,” I say, trying to sound light and unaffected as I fix my dress straps. “Erotic modeling for strangers isn’t really my thing.”

“Hey! I may be strange but I’m not a stranger,” Cameron says. “I just can’t help wanting to photograph a beautiful girl when I see one.”

“If I knew you'd act like a creep I wouldn't have bought you along," Jade says, playfully punching Cameron in the ribs. Then, more quietly, he says “She’s my boss’s daughter, remember? Just chill buddy.”

Kitty laughs nervously. Cameron is totally unperturbed, muttering “yes dad” as he tucks his phone back into his jeans pocket.

“Let’s go eat,” he says, winking at me with a grin. “I’m hungry as a wolf.”

*****

By the time we reach the Artisan Foods Market in Byleth Park, the faraway clouds massed on the horizon are almost overhead. The summer heat seems poised to break – I’m expecting to hear a crack of thunder at any moment.

Luckily most of the food stalls are under tents, so we’ll be able to find cover easily if it starts to rain. Like always, the market is packed – a favorite haunt of local foodies, hipsters and trendy twenty-somethings. I feel ridiculously overdressed in my pale blue silk dress, like a prom queen without the crown.

We go from stall to stall, trying a dumpling here, a mini donut there. It’s like an ‘eat while you walk’ buffet, surprisingly fun and delicious. After a while I forget to be self-conscious, and I slip into the evening, laughing at Cameron as he eats a whole chocolate cupcake in one bite.

Seeing the cupcakes makes me think of Alastaire. There are all sorts of amazing flavors to choose from – Black Doris Plum, Golden Syrup, Red Velvet Buttermilk. I almost buy a box of cupcakes just for him, but decide not to at the last moment – I don’t want to carry it around all night. Plus, tonight is about me, not Fable.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

I’m doing normal teenaged girl things tonight. Double dates, wearing pretty dresses, getting hit on by some random guy I barely know. Normal.

Kitty and Jade keep on drifting away from Cameron and I, and at one stage I notice that Jade’s actually taken Kitty’s hand. It seems almost like Jade is trying to linger behind us, almost as if to get more alone time with Kitty.

Cameron seems to get the hint.

“Do you wanna get a drink?” He asks me.

“I don’t think I can,” I say. “I’m underage.”

“That’s not an issue,” Cameron says, suddenly taking my hand and dragging me forward through the crowd. “There’s a pop-up absinth bar near the Greek foods tent. They won’t check for ID here. C’mon.” He tightens his grip on my hand, striding forward through the heavy stream of people.

I can’t see Kitty and Jade anymore – they’re lost in the herd.

“Shouldn’t we tell the others where we’re going?” I ask.

“Nah, the only thing they’re thinking about right now is each other,” Cameron says. “They won’t even notice we left.”

I guess that’s true. Still, I’ll text Kitty once we find a good place to stop.

Hundreds of unfamiliar faces stream past, and eventually the crowd thins out slightly. I can see the absinthe stall just ahead of us – all bedecked in green fabric, with a large sign listing the types of absinthe sold and prices. Below the writing, a green fairy is locked in an x-rated embrace with a green devil.

Only in Portland.

I remember that when the artisan food market started up in Byleth Park last year, Grace’s mom headed up a campaign by The Concerned Citizens of Portland Action League to get it shut down. Apparently ‘artisan’ is another word for ‘depraved’ – she said it was a hotbed of multiculturalist propaganda and homosexual debauchery (maybe influenced by the food fair’s very first stall, Vagetarian Eats – Mexican food made by vegetarian lesbians).

Seeing the lewd illustration on the absinthe stall’s sign, I sort of wish Grace’s mom was here right now, just so I could see the look on her face.

As we near the absinthe stall, I see a blonde girl in a white tank top and denim mini skirt bend over to pick something off her shoe. She turns around, and with a shock I recognize a face I’d hoped to never see again.

She’s the girl who was on top of me backstage at the Fable concert. The one who cut my top off me while the other Alastaire’s Angels helped her. The girl whose hand I bit.

I’ll never forget her face. It’s burned into my mind.

I know there’s nothing to fear, and there’s no reason at all for me to feel afraid – but the memory of the backstage panic attack claws at me like a long-buried monster. Just looking at her makes my breath catch in my throat.

She seems to be there with a short dark-haired guy, and as she turns in my direction, some wild impulse takes over my entire body. I suddenly tug Cameron towards me, practically leaping into his arms, so that I’m totally shielded from her.

“I don’t actually like absinthe,” I say, clinging to him as I try to look over his shoulder without her seeing me. I’ve never actually tried absinthe, and was curious to know what it tastes like – but not tonight. All I know is I definitely don’t want to go anywhere that girl.

“That’s ok,” Cameron says, looking around the stalls. “We’ll go to the moonshine shack.”

He gestures across the way. The moonshine shack is a cute wooden stall opposite us, where a punkish hipster girl with massive black earplugs and more tattoos than bare skin is pouring clear liquid into mason jar mugs. She’s scowling as she does it, like this is the absolute last place she wants to be tonight.

“C’mon, let’s get our drink on,” Cameron says. He seems to have taken my jumping at him the wrong way, and now has his arm tightly wrapped around me, his hand moving from my hip to the top of my thigh as we walk.

I try to pull away without making it too obvious – the last thing I want to do right now is cause a scene and draw attention to myself. I turn back to look for the girl from the concert, but she’s gone.

I try to step away from Cameron, but he grips tighter, even as I squirm slightly hoping he’ll get the hint.

“Next!” The tattooed girl calls out.

Cameron steers me forward, his arm now tightly around my waist.

“Hey Ruby,” Cameron says, winking at the girl. “How’s business going?”

“Cam, I didn’t recognize you,” she says, her scowl melting into a syrupy smile as she leans out of the stall, showing off her ample cleavage. “It’s been a while. You never visit anymore.”

“Well here I am,” he says.

She bites her lower lip, wiggling slightly against the counter-top as she leans closer in. That’s when she seems to notice me. She pulls back, propping her elbow on the bar counter.

“Who’s this?” She asks coldly, eyes raking over me.

“My date for the night,” he says. “Pretty, right? Guess I got lucky.”

Ruby snorts at this, before slamming two mason jars on the bar. She uses a metal jug to scoop out a clear liquid from a large green barrel behind her, sloshing the liquid messily into the jars.

Cameron reaches for his wallet, but Ruby shakes her head.

“It’s on me,” she says, her tone now flat and disinterested. “Now get lost.”

“No problem,” Cameron says, finally releasing me to pick up both mason jars. “See ya later Ruby.”

“Whatever,” she snorts as we walk away.

Even though the weather’s still hot and muggy, the dark clouds overhead are clustered low and heavy above us, blocking out the stars. I can feel the rain in the air.

“C’mon, this way,” Cameron says, taking my free hand. He leads me under a tented pavilion, where people on lawn chairs lounge around drinking and eating.

We find a spot near one of the tent poles. Cameron’s already half-emptied his mason jar, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath as he leans into me.

“Go on,” he says. “Try it.”

I take a small sip of my moonshine, out of curiosity more than anything else. It tastes a bit like vodka, mostly flavorless and burning.

Yuck. I’ll throw it out when he’s not looking.

Cameron suddenly leans down, and his lips come way to close to mine. I jump back, and at that moment I hear a loud crack, and a deafening roar of thunder rolls through the air. I stand about a foot away from Cameron as the downpour begins. The crowd rushes under the tent, trying to escape the rain and squashing me between Cameron and the tent pole in the process.

I shift and try to wiggle myself free, and Cameron just leans in, swooping down for a kiss.

I turn my head to the side just in time, and his lips land on my cheek. He smells like rubbing alcohol and stale cigarette smoke, a detail I’m noticing now that I’m pinned against him.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice very slightly slurred, his eyes unfocused.

“I barely know you, and you’re trying to kiss me,” I say. “I’m not… I’m not easy, ok?”

“I know you’re not,” Cameron says downing the rest of his moonshine in one gulp, before wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He takes my mason jar out of my hand and again downs the entire thing in one go, his eyes bulging slightly as he swallows. He throws the empty jar at his feet, and it shatters as he grabs my waist and pulls me closer.

“You’re a real challenge,” he says. “I don’t get that a lot. I like it.”

I put my hands on his chest, try to push him away, but he grabs my wrists and leans in closer, whispering into my ear. His speech is decidedly slurred now.

“I wanna tell you something,” he says. “Listen… listen up. I was like, so relieved when I met you at the gallery. When Jade told me about this double date bullshit I thought I’d be spending the evening with some swamp donkey. No jokes. I was totally gonna pull out. Like, there’s no way I’m chaperoning some fat chick all night just so he can get laid, you know what I mean? I didn’t expect you to be hot. So, let’s ditch those two and go back my place.”

I’m too shocked to speak. If I had more space right now I’d slap him, but the writhing mass of bodies escaping the rain would make that impossible.

I need to get away.

Gathering all my strength, I pull myself away from him. But it’s not enough. He holds my wrists tighter, and grinds me up against him, his eyes ravenous as he grins wickedly at me.

“You’re not getting away,” he says.

Wrong.

I jerk my knee up as hard as I can, right between his legs. My kneecap connects with the crown jewels, and he shrieks, releasing me instantly as he stumbles back into the person behind him.

I slip through the sudden opening in the crowd, running out into the rain.

I have no idea where Kitty and Jade are, and it would just be stupid to take out my phone in the downpour.

So I run between the tents, past food stalls and marquees, looking for something I recognize. The rain is relentless, soaking my dress and hair until everything is dripping and clinging and horribly uncomfortable. Finally, I spot a red arch wreathed with ivy towering over the path.

That’s the northern entrance for Byleth Park. If I run out there, I can get to New Pine St, and I’ll find some cover in the mall. I can call Kitty from there.

So I run along the path, almost knocking into other girl running to get away from the rain. I look quickly to each side before running across the street.

“Wait up!” A voice calls out behind me.

I turn around, and I see Cameron on the other side of the street I just crossed, his face white with fury. “We’re not done yet!” He shouts.

I stumble back as he suddenly launches himself across the road, running towards me. I turn around and leap away blindly, realizing seconds too late that I’m running down an alleyway.

Most of the alleyway is pitch black, but there’s a light shining at the end of it. My heart stops as I make out two trashcans and a dead end, way too high for me to jump.

I run into the circle of light at the end of the alley, desperately looking for anyway over.

It’s too high.

I turn around, my back to the wall as Cameron approaches at the far end of the alleyway. It’s so dark that I can barely see him, but I can hear that he’s stumbling, possibly from me kneeing him in the groin.

“I was going to make it pleasurable for you,” he says, as he closes in on me, just feet away. “But now it’s going to be painful. Really painful. Time for your lesson, bitch.”

He lurches into the light, and I cower against the wall, screaming even though I know that no one will hear it through the roaring thunder and the rain.

“Found you,” a voice says coldly just behind Cameron.

I look up in time to see Cameron lifted to his feet. He seems to hang motionless for a while, before hurtling through the air, flung so hard against the opposite wall that I hear bones crack.

I can just make out a figure standing in the darkness before me.

“Are you ok?” The figure asks.

The guy’s face is hidden in shadows, but I know his voice.

He steps forward into the light.

I burst into tears.