Chapter 7
Bully
Present
Sadly, I don't see Alexander on campus all day. I think Dora was right; Oliver will do anything to crush me, hurt me, and prove he'll not leave me alone until I disappear. The bet is only there to prove his point. I try to get on with my lectures, while everyone keeps staring and whispering behind my back. I know it's because of Oliver. He's everywhere.
By the time I get home, I feel like curling up on my bed and hiding, but I don't want to miss my date with Alexander. To take my mind off today's events, I have a shower and take my time with makeup. My hands are shaking when I put my clothes back on. Other than my first outing for coffee with Alexander, it's been a year since I've gone out on a proper date with anyone. Men make me nervous, and the past still haunts me. Slowly and steadily, I'm going to get there.
A few hours later, Alexander picks me up at my apartment. He looks handsome and he complements me. My nerves are slowly eating me away. My pulse is racing, and my chest is tight, so I excuse myself to the restroom once we reach the cinema. For a long moment I stand in front of the mirror, hoping this panic attack will pass. Nothing seems to be going according to plan. I keep telling myself I'll be fine, and I can go through with this.
Finally, my breathing returns to normal. When I leave the bathroom Alexander seems concerned, but I lie and tell him I'm fine. Once we're inside the screening, I try to relax. Our last date was perfect, so I don't want to ruin anything for him.
Soon the film starts, and I lose myself in the undiscovered fictional world. Alexander seems to be absorbed with what's happening on the screen. We talked while we were walking here, and he seemed to be really interested in this film. Halfway through the screening, I begin to wonder if Alexander is really that into me. A few times I cover my face with my hands, pretending to be scared, but he doesn't try to touch me once or comfort me in any way.
During one particular scary scene, I grab his hand and hold it for several minutes, expecting him to pull me towards him. What I get instead is a smile and a pat on the back.
I don't try it again, wondering if I missed something. After the movie is over, we have a quiet drink at one of the bars in town. Alexander asks about my interest in criminal law and my obsession with films. I give him the address to my blog.
The date is pleasant enough, but he doesn't seem to be as relaxed as on the first date. The chemistry between us is suddenly gone. Maybe I'm paranoid and he's just a gentleman. As he walks me to my apartment, we're silent, the only sound is that of our footsteps and occasional sighs. All of a sudden, I feel like that perfect date in the coffee shop wasn't so perfect anymore, because the connection that we had is no longer there.
Alexander appears tense when we stop in front of the entrance to my apartment. "I was wondering if you're doing anything this weekend?"
Right, now I'm totally confused. At first, he does everything to show me he isn't into me, and now he's asking me what I'm doing this weekend?
I shift my weight to the side and look at him, raising my eyebrow. "Nothing, no plans as usual."
"There's a secret party I've been invited to. Do you want to come along?" he asks, a smirk playing on his lips.
"A secret party?" I repeat. "You know I don't party much."
"I'll get the text an hour before with the details. Come on, let me take you out." He leans closer. For a long moment we stare at each other. My heart begins to race. Alexander's lips turn up in a smile, and I know this is the moment I've been waiting for. He's going to kiss me.
"Give me a call on Saturday. I don't mind going." My voice is quiet as I stuff my hands in my pockets nervously.
"Great. See you on Saturday, India." He nods, then turns and hurries away.
For a moment, I stand there completely startled, watching as he walks away. He had the perfect opportunity to kiss me, but he just left me here, hanging. Sighing, I walk back to the apartment. I rummage through my purse, and it takes me a freaking year and a half to find the keys. All I can think about is how bizarre of a night I had. That was the most awkward date...in the history of ever.
"Hey, come here and start talking." Dora pulls me towards the sofa. I forgot I told her to wait up for me.
"Is that ice cream you've got there?" I watch her trying to be sneaky as she hides something behind the sofa.
"You'll get some if you tell me everything that happened. Did he kiss you?" she asks as soon as I flop on the sofa next to her.
I palm my forehead. "It was a total disaster."
"What? Why?"
"Well, for one, he didn't kiss me, and two... he didn't even try anything in the cinema. Then, he invited me to some random party on Saturday... and just ran off like his arse was on fire." I snatch the tub of icy goodness from Dora's hands, indulging myself in delicious ice cream. I would've had so much more fun if I'd stayed at home and eaten the whole tub. "What's wrong with me, Dora? Why do men hate me?"
"They don't hate you. It's Oliver. I told you he made a bet with others. Alexander isn't from around here. Someone probably saw you with him and decided to tell him to ditch you."
I might have to agree with Dora's version. "All right, maybe, but he invited me to a party on Saturday night. It doesn't make sense."
"Well, I don't know, then. I would come with you, but Jacob's taking me to London this weekend. He has something planned for us." She gives me a wide smile and dreamy eyes. I just want to eat more ice cream...
"London? But you've only known each other a few weeks. And you're already going away together?"
"He suggested it, and I said yes." She shrugs. "He's nice, India. I kind of like him, more than the others."
"He's also Oliver's best buddy. Maybe it's just part of the plan to get you on his side." It makes me sick to my stomach even thinking that Oliver would be capable of doing something like that. Then again, he learned it from me, so I wouldn't be surprised if he'd use Dora to get to me. Tit for tat, I suppose...
"I think you're being paranoid. Oliver's hot, girls are queuing to get his attention, and I don't believe he would use his own friend just because you bullied him in high school."
"It wasn't just bullying, Dora." I stare at the ice cream for a moment, and then back up. "I kind of ruined his life."
"We both did, but it's you he's determined to pay back." She sighs. "Just keep your eyes peeled. He ruined your food the other day. I don't think he knows what to do. He hasn't got a plan, so I wouldn't worry about it."
I don't offer my own comment and let her believe she's right. She obviously didn't see him in the canteen. The way he was lashing his hatred out like a knife, like he didn't give a flying fuck if I was alive or dead.
We chat a bit longer until Dora tells me I shouldn't have taken him to see a zombie film, as that probably turned him off. I like Alexander and the way he is, but tonight's date sure didn't go the way I expected it to.
I change into my pyjamas and put Beth Orton music on. I love her soft tunes. Her music always calms me down. Just before I go to bed, I check my cell, but Alexander hasn't sent a text. Maybe this is just the way Swedish men are with women. They like to leave them hanging. I need to let him know I'm not one of those women.
The rest of the week passes in a blur. Mackenzie gives me a hard time during training. She keeps describing her intense nights with Oliver loud enough for me to hear while we're in the changing room. I shouldn't be jealous, but I can't help imagining her face when I win the competition in front of the entire crowd, waiting for Oliver to congratulate me. It's lame, I know. He would never do that.
I see Alexander during lunch. He sits with a bunch of French students. He can see me, but he doesn't approach me or try to talk to me, which is odd. We had a great time, but now he treats me like he doesn't even know me. Dora thinks he's gorgeous, but gay. He confuses me so much.
I don't hear back from Alexander until Saturday night. Dora left for London with Jacob yesterday, packing a suitcase of clothes. She told me to go out and have a good time if Alexander calls, but now I'm not so sure. On Saturday morning, I wake up feeling refreshed and ready for a long TV show marathon with my favourite, CSI Miami.
I buy a lot of junk food and stay in bed with my laptop until early evening. My phone starts ringing later on and I don't answer, seeing that it's Alexander. After around five phone calls, I give up and answer.
"What?"
"India, it's me, Alex."
"I know. What the hell do you want?"
"Chill, India," he says like everything is fine. "Are you all right?"
"Why are you even calling me? I haven't heard from you all week. You didn't even text or talk to me in the canteen." I know I have to put all my cards on the table. "Just spare me the tears later on. Does Oliver have something to do with this?"
"India, I don't know what you're talking about." His voice sounds tense now. "And I've no idea who Oliver is. Is he your boyfriend or something?"
I don't respond straightaway, wondering if I've gone too far. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Alexander is Swedish; he has no idea about Oliver. He doesn't even play rugby.
"No, he isn't. I told you, I don't have a boyfriend." I suddenly feel mortified. "I'm-"
"No, don't apologise. Just listen, I'm sorry I didn't call you earlier. I felt like an idiot, because I really wanted to kiss you that night, but I panicked. Then I thought you wouldn't want to talk to me, so I avoided you." This time, his tone sounds uneasy.
"You really wanted to kiss me?" I ask quietly, and there's silence on the other end of the line.
"Yeah, and I won't stop bugging you until you give me another chance. Let me take you to that party. I just got the text."
"What text?"
"You know, about the secret party, the one I told you about," he reminds me. "It's a pyjama party dress code."
"Pyjama party? You're kidding me, right?"
"No, of course not. A few girls I know have been invited, and they're wearing sexy nighties. Those instructions are pretty clear."
I roll my eyes, already imagining what kind of party he's talking about. The house probably belongs to a single student who wants to see half-naked girls in their sexy nighties.
"I don't know. I don't want to show up in my lingerie. It's embarrassing. I don't know anyone there."
"No one knows anyone, and that's the whole point. It's totally sexy, plus I want to see you," he insists. "It's Saturday night, India, so come on. We'll have fun."
"All right, but I'm not wearing anything too revealing," I tell him, laughing.
"I'm sure you'll look amazing. I'll pick you up in half an hour. Can you be ready by then?"
"Yeah, I'll be ready."
Then he hangs up, and I wonder where Dora is when I need her the most. She'd definitely know what I should wear. It's freezing outside so I have to wear something to cover myself up. I jump out of bed and search for the one and only nighty I've got. My butt is covered, but I look sexy, and that's what matters. Other girls will probably wear much more revealing stuff, and I'll likely turn up looking like some sort of prude.
I put on a full face of makeup, one with smoky eyes, and style my hair. My nighty cover is black with lace mesh and a pattern in front.
When my doorbell rings, I let Alexander upstairs. He's wearing grey pyjama pants and a vest revealing his large arms. I can tell he works out. His eyes pop open as he stares at my body. I'm not bad looking, and after a few weeks of rowing, I'm much more fit than before.
"Wow, India, you look hot. That's the look that I was talking about."
I add high heels and put my coat on. "Are you sure it's not too much?"
"It's perfect." He smiles. "Everyone will love it, trust me."
He calls a taxi for us, and we reach our secret destination fifteen minutes later. The cold breeze ruffles my hair as we get out of the taxi. We're most definitely on a street filled with student parties. The terrace house in front of us looks busy. I can hear the loud music and my stomach tightens.
Alexander doesn't let me change my mind. He suddenly takes my hand and brings me toward his body. "I've got to do this before we go in." Then his lips crash against mine.
I'm not prepared for this, but I part my lips, enjoying his sensual kiss. His lips are sweet, but he only lets me taste him for a brief second or so, before he pulls away. It's pleasant, and once we're done, he smiles, standing in front of the door.
I blush, smiling. "That was unexpected." I stare up at him. He seems slightly tense and I wonder if he's nervous. "What are we waiting for?"
"We need to take off our coats; otherwise they won't let us in." It's cold, and it's already dark, so I doubt anyone would notice us here. We take our coats off, and then Alexander knocks. Someone opens the door, and Alexander tells me to go in.
There are a lot of people, but none are dressed like I am. Alarm bells go off in my head. We walk into the living room, and I feel like someone has dropped a bucket of stones into my stomach. Suddenly I can't breathe, seeing that other people aren't wearing any pyjamas. I look at Alexander who is standing by the door watching me carefully. Several people start laughing at my silly nighty, pointing at me like I'm some kind of freak.
Heat creeps up my entire face. "Alex, what's going on? I thought you said this was a pyjama party?"
"Sorry, Indi, I was only doing what I was asked to do." His voice is different now as he narrows his eyes. "I'm sorry to say, but you don't even know how to kiss."
"We didn't order a stripper, Indi. Plus, your legs are too fat for what you're wearing," says a deep familiar voice. The air freezes in my lungs when I notice Oliver coming from the corner. So, this is a trap. Obviously, Oliver asked Alex to bring me here, to pretend that he was interested. I was so naïve to have fallen for that old-school joke.
People laugh out loud, and I stand there rooted to the spot, looking like a complete moron. Oliver's eyes harden on me, then he lifts his phone and takes my picture. His eyes then move downwards to my breasts, my legs.
Then I do the only thing that's right. I turn and walk away.
"Come on, where are you going, Indi? Show us what you got; everyone is waiting," Oliver shouts and people laugh harder.
When I get to the door, I see Mackenzie. She's standing with her arms folded, staring at me. She looks good wearing a tight black dress. "You've got to work out more, sweetie." She smirks. "I told you he'd get you one way or another."
I brush past her and storm out of the house. My hands are shaking, and tears are streaming down my cheeks. I don't care that I'm standing half-naked in the middle of a busy street on a Saturday night. Oliver got what he wanted. I'm mortified. A few years ago, I played this exact same prank on him. I should have remembered.
I run as fast as I can. People stare, but I don't stop until I reach my apartment.
My phone keeps vibrating, and when I finally lock my door I cry out, punching the wall and bruising my hand. How could I be so stupid and believe anyone could be interested in me?
The pain is fresh and the memories of that party from a few years ago flood back to me. I fall onto my couch, sobbing until I'm finally numb and empty. Oliver hates me, and he proved his bet's all too real tonight.
I check my phone, as it keeps vibrating, and I see tons of Facebook notifications. People took my picture as soon as I stepped into the living room, and they've posted it and tagged me. There are comments, some laughing at me, other blokes congratulating Oliver. The girls are telling me how ugly I look and how fat I am.
I toss my phone on the floor, pissed off. Oliver just proved I never meant anything to him.
Then my phone begins vibrating again, but I just leave it there. He's digging deeper than I thought; he's giving me a taste of what he went through when I bullied him. I did many more horrible things to him when he was in high school. He suffered constant abuse from other guys, and he was the subject of nasty gossip. I lie on my couch, unable to move, feeling like there's a large hole in my chest. I finally got what I deserved.
My life in Braxton will only get worse, so maybe I should give up and leave. Now Oliver's empowered by my pain and humiliation. He enjoys seeing me hurt.
I sob into the pillows as the memories of that terrible night with Christian sink in. Oliver's just like his brother now: cold and devious. He found a way to get to me. All my wounds are slowly opening up.
I dose off shortly, exhausted. In my dreams, I'm my old self: confident and popular.
The fire alarm stirs me back to consciousness. I rub my eyes, wondering if the porter downstairs decided to test it in the middle of the night to get people out of the building.
The alarm doesn't stop ringing for about a minute, so I assume I should get out of my apartment, as it's probably a real fire.
People are hurrying towards the entrance, and I'm still in my nighty running to the stairs. I barge into the laundry room hoping to find a jacket. After the incident with Oliver, I don't fancy standing outside dressed like a hooker. I hear someone shouting to get out. The laundry room is dark. I search for the switch, wondering if this day can get any worse. I know that I left my clothes to dry here in the morning.
Then I hear footsteps, and someone locks the door.
"Hey, you need to get out of here. The fire alarm," I say, annoyed. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I spot a silhouette of a man. He takes a few steps forward and my mind starts screaming that I should get the hell out of here.
"Hello, Indi."
It's like I'm in my own nightmare, but this time it's all happening for real. My heart leaps in my throat as I stumble backwards. "Oliver, what the-"
He doesn't let me finish. Instead he moves towards me in the blink of an eye and pushes me against the wall. Every muscle in my body locks up, and fear jets through me with the awareness that history is about to repeat itself.
"I needed to see you again," he mumbles. "I've missed you so much."
His breath reveals that he's had way too much to drink. I'm frozen, unable to move and completely startled by his closeness. Before I can even anticipate his next move, his lips are on mine, and he kisses me hard. Alarm bells are going off in my mind; a voice screams to push him away, but the heat that suddenly embraces my body is unbelievably real. Desire whisks through me as he slips his tongue inside my mouth.
A short gasp escapes me as he sucks on my bottom lip, making a sound in the back of his throat. His hips push into me harder.
"Beautiful, India," he croaks, moving his lips down my neck, making my senses swirl like my body isn't mine anymore. I don't know what's happening to me. He crushed me, humiliated me, and now he's kissing me like he owns me. His hands move down to my waist, and I feel his erection just by my thigh. His lips are sweet, but deep down, I find the strength to push him away.
"Oliver, what the hell are you doing?" I ask, breathing hard.
He darts his eyes towards me, his face only inches from mine. "You ruin me, India." His voice is just above a whisper, stepping away as if he just realised what he did. "This is what you lost. My brother didn't mean anything. You always wanted me."
My chest heaves, and everything around me spins out of control. I want him to accept me, to love me, but I'm afraid to let go of the hatred that protected me. I have a chance to tell him everything now, to make him understand.
"Fuck, Oliver, if you want to hear this from me, then, yes, I admit it." My entire body is shaking. The tears are back, running down my cheeks. "Yes, I did love you more than I loved Christian. I wanted to apologise to you, but I was a coward, and I never did it."
He runs his hand through his hair, staring at me with desperation in his dark gaze. "You ruined my life because you lost a man you didn't even want?" he whispers. "It's too late. Leave Braxton. I'm giving you another chance. Let me carry on living a normal life."
I clench my fists, watching Oliver's chest rise and fall. I have a chance to tell him everything now, ask him for forgiveness, make him understand why I did all those horrible things to him after his brother died. "I can't change the past, but I want to apologise. And to explain. Christian, he-"
"Fuck your apology. I don't want to hear it, and I don't need it. Christian left us, died in a car crash!" he shouts, not even allowing me to finish. "We could have helped each other deal with the pain, but instead you pushed me away, hurt me, and cut me to pieces."
"Oliver, we can start again. Please, if I could change what I did, I would," I cry, moving towards him.
He laughs.
"Too little, too late, India. You're pathetic, and you make me sick. I don't want to hear any more bullshit that comes out of that mouth of yours."
We stand there looking at each other. He's right; I'm a pathetic human being because I'm still afraid of the truth. I could have explained this years ago, but instead I locked my emotions away and violated Oliver through hatred and cruelty.
"You're right, and I can't make you forgive me. But I won't leave Braxton just because you can't deal with me being here."
"Do what you want, but you've got no idea what I'm capable of. It's only the beginning. The past will come back to haunt you, and in a few months, you'll wish you'd left when you had the chance." He throws my remorse into the mud without a thought.
I failed again.
I slide down to the floor, breathing as if I can't get any air. It's all my fault. The pain is back, and I'm burning alive while Oliver's watching. His eyes are empty, and I know he's right.
It's only the beginning.