"Rory!" I shout.

The sound of her hitting the floor brings me out of the nightmare and into an even more horrifying reality. I jump out of bed and run to where she fell on the other side. She's unconscious, and I start panicking, shaking her.

"RORY! RORY! COME ON!"

I'm dry sobbing, making big gasping sounds without any tears. I am too afraid for tears. I hold Rory close to me and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Please, baby, come back," I whisper.

I'm not sure I believe in God, but I start praying anyway because I can't do anything else. Whether God exists or not, Rory opens her eyes right after I finish praying, so I guess it worked.

She looks up at my face, dazed.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

She nods, but her facial expression turns to one of anger.

"You hit me!" she exclaims, shoving me away.

"Rory, I didn't mean to!"

"I don't care! One of these nights you could kill me!" she says, starting to cry.

"Well what the FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?!" I yell.

Rory's eyes widen. "I want you to get help like you said!"

I shake my head and stand up, ignoring Rory's voice as I stomp over to the window.

"So I guess I'm not worth it," she whispers. "You know, my thirteen year old brother is stronger than you! At least he's getting the help he needs! You just keep hiding!"

I whirl around. "You have no idea! No clue! I don't wanna tell some goddamn stranger about how many men fucked me! I don't want the world to know how many dicks I've had to suck or how many pedophiles played with my balls and how, sometimes, it actually felt good. I fucking liked it. Just like Ray said." When I finish my tirade, I'm shaking.

Rory is too. She crosses the room and throws her arms around me. I'm torn, hurt by the words she said, and I'm too proud to admit how much I need her to hold me.

"I'm leaving!" I say, pulling away from her.

"Austin! Please don't! I love you!"

I say nothing.

———————

It's three a.m. and I drive through the empty streets, too broken to fall asleep. I hate myself for not telling Rory I loved her too, at least. I should have said anything. But fear and shame made me turn my back on her. She will never forgive me. It's all my fault.

When dawn comes, I drive to Blanca's house, thinking she'll still be asleep. I called to tell her I would stay the night so she wouldn't worry, but I'm not prepared to face anyone. I just wanna go to my room, chug NyQuil and go to sleep for hours.

"You woke up early!" Blanca exclaims when I walk in.

She's sitting on the couch drinking a cup of coffee. It smells intoxicating.

"Any left?" I ask.

She nods and points to the kitchen. As I'm making myself a cup, Blanca calls my name.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Can you come in here when you're done?"

I don't feel like chatting, but I owe her for taking us in so I always do whatever she asks. Grudgingly, I walk into the living room with my full cup.

"Sit down," she says.

I take a seat on the other side of the couch.

"What's on your mind? You look upset," she says.

I shrug. "Rory and I had a fight."

"That's not like you two."

"Yeah. Well, it was all my fault."

"I doubt it. Rory has a temper. She is part Irish, you know. And that red hair! I love her unconditionally, but she can be a brat. Tell me what happened."

I take a sip of my coffee before answering. Finally I tell Blanca every detail about what was said and done. I even admit attacking Rory in her sleep for the second time.

"She was afraid, not angry," Blanca says softly.

"Maybe at first, but now she's probably pissed about the way I left, and she should be," I mumble.

"Why did you leave? It sounds like the fight was over."

I shrug.

"Maybe you felt... shame?" Blanca asks.

I close my eyes. All I feel is shame. Every second of every day.

"Blanca, I feel so disgusting. What they did to me..."

"None of that was your fault. You were a victim."

"Then how come sometimes it felt good?" I ask desperately.

Blanca puts her wrinkled brown hand on top of mine.

"Austin, you have a body that is hard wired to feel sexual pleasure, even if your mind doesn't want to feel it. It happens to rape victims all the time, and they feel the same way you feel until they accept that this was not something they wanted or chose."

"That's bullshit," I whisper.

Blanca goes quiet. We both drink our coffee in silence for several minutes. Then she says,

"When I was a teenager in Mexico, I was raped by some drug dealers. I was walking home from school, and one of them grabbed me and pulled me into an alleyway. There were three of them."

I look up at her, speechless. Her face is twisted with pain.

"I had an orgasm. For many years, I lived with the guilt of thinking it was somehow my fault, like it wasn't actually rape, like I wasn't a good Catholic girl anymore."

"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't know."

Blanca smiles sadly. "No one does except my husband and now you. The Walsh's don't know. I don't like to think about it. It was very traumatic."

"I understand how that feels," I say.

"So let me ask you, do you think it was my fault?" she asks, looking at me with sharp eyes.

"What? Fuck no! They raped you!" I exclaim.

Blanca takes a deep breath. "Why do you give me such grace when you won't give yourself the same thing?"

I stare into space. I don't have an answer. I know it's because she's right, but I still hate myself.

"I guess because Ray said it was my fault," I mumble.

"And you believe him. As long as you do, he still has power over you."

I don't like to think that Ray has power over me. I hate that bastard so much. But Blanca is right. She really is.

"I... I guess I'll get help," I say reluctantly.

Blanca smiles. "I'm so proud of you!"

She gives me a big hug, which usually feels awkward, but this time I accept it.

It's six a.m. now. I have enough time to make things right with Rory. I get back in the van and race to the apartment, hoping she's still there.

Her car is in the parking lot, and I take a deep breath before racing up the stairs to our new home. I start to knock before realizing I still have the key.

As I unlock the door and open it, Rory is right there on the other side with her purse slung over her arm and her keys in her hand.

"Austin!" she gasps with fright.

"Rory, I love you, and I'm so sorry!" I cry, throwing my arms around her.

She hugs me back. "Baby, I know you are."

"I'm going to get help. I'll go to Seth's therapist. I promise. I'll do it today!"

Rory pulls away and smiles at me. "What changed?"

"Me," I say.