**I apologize, first of all, for the horrendously long time it has taken me to get this chapter written, but as I promised, the story is not dead yet! I also apologize for the darker tones of this chapter and the lack of sexual content, but that will be remedied shortly, I promise!**
Sophie could not stop smiling. She probably looked completely foolish, but she just did not care. Daniel had put that smile on her face, and over the past few weeks had made her nothing less than deliriously happy. Their relationship was still a secret, even from Tom, but Sophie kind of liked it that way. The secrecy made things more fun, and definitely much hotter.
She grinned, thinking of the half-dozen times a day their hands "accidentally" brushed against each other, how they played footsie under the table during lunch in the cafeteria, the way they would sneak into the stairwells just before class started to steal all-too-brief kisses. A part of her felt irrationally afraid that once the newness and the secrecy of their relationship wore off, their passion would fade, but the more rational part of her brain chided her for thinking such ridiculous things. She knew that there was no way of knowing what the future held, and that they had been together barely a month, but somehow this felt like a sure thing. It was all she could do to prevent herself from planning out the details of their future together. She just couldn't help it.
She was still lost in happy thoughts when she walked into the bathroom, so preoccupied that it took her a few moments to realize that the other girl in the bathroom was sobbing. Sophie thought she recognized the girl, a freshman or a sophomore, she wasn't quite sure, from her French class, and she felt that she ought to do something to comfort her, but had no idea where to begin.
"Are you ok?"
The other girl, a very pretty brunette, continued to sob, but managed a "yes" between hiccupping sobs and gulps of air. Sophie said nothing, waiting patiently for the girl to calm down, handing her tissues so that she felt like she was doing something at least slightly useful. When the girl seemed to be over the worst of her crying jag, she splashed her face with some cold water. Turning to face Sophie, she spoke.
"Thank you," she said, her breath still coming in uneven gasps.
"You're sure you're ok?" Sophie asked, kindly
"I was," the girl replied, "until Mike Simpson came along."
Sophie felt her heart give a tiny lurch at the mention of Mike's name.
"What did he do to make you so upset?" Sophie realized she dreaded the girl's response. Her heart was racing, her stomach filled with nausea-inducing butterflies. "I really liked him," the girl said, sadly. "And then he started paying attention to me, and I thought I was someone special. I mean, he's Mike Simpson, and I'm just a freshman and he noticed me."
Sophie felt sick. The girl's feelings were uncomfortably familiar. She could have been Sophie only a few short weeks ago.
"I know how that feels," she murmured sympathetically.
The girl gave Sophie a grateful smile, fresh tears flowing down her face.
"It's just, you never expect a guy like him to notice a girl like you. And then he starts talking to you, and inviting you over for some beers and to play pool, and then before you know it, you're alone in his bedroom..."
Sophie's stomach lurched again, the bile rising in her throat. What had she saved herself from?
"What happened?" Sophie asked gently, not wanting to force the girl into talking about her ordeal, but she sensed that the girl desperately needed to tell someone what had happened. Her instincts proved right when the girl seized the opportunity, gathering her courage and spilling out everything in one long stream of words:
"So we'd had a few beers, and we went up to his room, everyone else had left. And we started making out, and then his hands started to move, and that's ok, but then they started to go lower and lower and I didn't want to keep going, and I told him that, but he wouldn't listen. He said I really did want it, I just didn't know it, and he was going to show me how much fun it could be. And...and I tried to stop him, I really did, but he wouldn't listen and the more I struggled the more he kept going, and he had this sick smile on his face, like he knew it was hurting me, but he kept saying if I relaxed, I would enjoy myself. I don't really remember what else happened, I kind of blanked out. I know he was telling me I was enjoying it because I was getting turned on. The next thing I know he's hitting my arm and pinching me, telling me to be more interested, to stop being such a frigid bitch, and then he kicked me out of his room. And when I saw him this morning, I smiled at him, and he looked at me as if I were a piece of trash, and then he said something to his friends and they all kind of looked at me and started laughing. I just feel so worthless. And stupid. How did I ever believe he could really like me?"
She looked suddenly spent, the torrent of emotion behind her words draining her. Sophie didn't know what compelled her to do so, but she found herself reaching out to the girl and hugging her, tightly. "Don't worry," she heard herself say. "You are not a piece of trash, trust me. Mike is. I know - he made me feel the same way."
