So I stole a bicycle chain, the handlebars crashed to the ground. The back wheel detached from the frame, it kept rolling, yeah, but aimlessly drifting around. Oh, doubters, let's go down...

- "Four Word Letter (Pt. Two)" by mewithoutYou

I left through the back door to the gym and stood outside in the chilly air, leaning on the rail of the wheelchair ramp for support. I could still hear the dance music pulsating inside the gym, the bass beats booming in my ears and shaking the cold sidewalk beneath me. My hands shook as I gripped the rail, my head throbbing with the threat of illness. I cursed under my breath and ran a hand through my stringy hair. Stupid. Why was it that every single idea of Principal Burns's always turned into some horrible mess?

Shivering in my tiny dress, I rubbed my arms and looked out at the empty side of the parking lot. Maybe if I stayed out here long enough, Trevor would leave and then I could go back inside and tell the principal that my "date" had left, and could I please go home now. I was plotting the details of my exit when I heard the door open and shut behind me, and I spun around to face a tall figure silhouetted against the light coming from inside the gym.

At first I thought it was Trevor, but then he reached out and pushed me backwards over the railing of the wheelchair exit and suddenly I was flying through the air. I was able to cover my head with my arms before landing roughly on my back against the cement, and I dizzily thought to myself, Jarrod.

I don't know why, but I wasn't surprised that he had found me there. Even in the delirium of excruciating pain, I could guess what had happened: Jarrod had gone there looking for me. After what Sally had told me the week before, it made sense. Jarrod still wanted me. He still wanted me to let him hurt me.

Pain racing from my spine all the way to my skull, I tried to sit up only to fall flat again. A shadow fell over me and I blinked against the glare of the parking lot lights to see Jarrod's drunken face twisted into an ugly snarl, his body swaying above me.

"I saw you in there with that stupid fag boyfriend of yours, Jenny," he grunted. I tried to get up again and he stepped on my left wrist, smashing it into the pavement. I screamed.

"Shut up!" Jarrod yelled. A forceful kick in my side cut me off and I lay there in a haze of searing pain, trying to blink the black clouds from my eyes. Jarrod had never hurt me this badly. Suddenly I felt afraid of him, and I wondered if maybe I wasn't as strong as I thought.

He stumbled over me and fell. His bony knees crushed into my ribs as he landed on top of my body, laughing half to himself. I struggled underneath him, but Jarrod was climbing closer to me and now he had both my wrists down and was forcing my knees apart with his legs.

"I'm going to make this hurt, you cheating whore," he said. And then I knew what he was trying to do. With renewed energy I fought against him, trying to loosen myself from his grip, but he was a deadweight on my legs and I couldn't lift his meaty arms from my wrists. He let go with one hand to tear at my dress and I swung my fist at his face. The punch made him pause momentarily, but then he raised his free hand and struck me in the temple, never letting up on his grip. My head was throbbing and I felt his hand under my dress, then his mouth, and then--I screamed again. He clapped his hand over my mouth and bit down on my skin. I twisted, screaming at the top of my lungs, but my ragged voice was muffled by his hand.

"Let me go! Let me go! Let me--" It was getting too hard to breathe. I tried to suck the air between his fingers, but he only clamped his hand harder over my mouth and nose. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to weaken me enough so I would stop fighting back. And I couldn't do anything about it.

Darkness raged in and out of my vision, and I felt like I was losing consciousness until I was brought back to the world with another burst of pain. Jarrod was pushing himself into me. The bare skin of my back was being scraped raw against the gritty pavement, and blood was stinging and seeping from the bite marks on my chest, but the pain between my legs was worse. Then it felt like something was breaking inside me and I screamed louder--and suddenly he was gone.

Free of Jarrod's weight, I rolled over on my side and groaned, feeling sick. I could hear confused noises over the thrumming bass music that was still pounding in my head--Jarrod's voice, the thud of a fist against skin, scuffling feet. A shudder ran through my entire body and before I could stop it, I vomited on the pavement. My dress was barely on me; the straps had been broken by Jarrod's hands. Painfully I pulled my clothes and underwear back around me and sat up, shaking in the cold air and from shock.

Someone else's shadow was moving in the glaring light. I shook my head a little to clear my vision but I couldn't make out a face, only the two bodies colliding and then standing apart, bent over with heavy breaths. Jarrod swung a fist at the smaller figure, catching it in the eye. It fell to its knees but soon jumped up again, throwing a punch into Jarrod's chest and another in his ribcage. Jarrod doubled over, coughing, while the other stood as if waiting for him. Jarrod took a few stumbling steps toward the figure but he was already falling before a kick connected with his middle and he collapsed on the ground in a heap.

I sat holding myself up with my arms, watching all this in a sort of blank amazement. My spine felt like it had been shattered from the fall over the wheelchair ramp. Blood was soaking through the fabric of my white dress and creeping down my face from where Jarrod had punched me. As Jarrod staggered off into the shadows, the other figure stood silently watching me, hands at its sides. I gazed back curiously, holding up the top of my dress to cover myself.

The figure was still breathing heavily, and its shoulders were trembling a little. Definitely a guy, but...why was he shaking like that? Then I realized what it was: he was crying.

"Trevor...?"

He didn't answer me, but he stepped closer and the light poured onto his face, streaming with tears. I stared and Trevor said nothing--went on crying without a sound. There was blood on his face and a bruise forming under his eye, but that didn't seem to be the reason why he was so upset. Without a word he took off his black hoodie and pulled it over my head, letting me wriggle my arms into the warm sleeves. I hadn't realized how cold I was. I hugged Trevor's hoodie around me, wincing at the pain in my broken skin.

Trevor was looking away, brushing the tears from his eyes and sniffing. He picked up his broken glasses from the ground and put them on.

"Trevor?" I said quietly.

Trevor didn't look at me. He sat beside me on the ground, staring off into the distance, sniffing.

"Why won't you talk to me?" I demanded. I hadn't been crying, but my voice was beginning to break.

Trevor shook his head. A fresh tear rolled down his cheek and he scrubbed it away. Then, "You need to go home," he said softly, and stood up.

I laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, right. Like I could explain all this to David."

"Well, we need to go inside and find the nurse, then."

"Are you kidding? I can't go back in there looking like this!" I tried to stand up on my own, but my head throbbed and I began to fall. Trevor caught me under the arm, holding me up, and then I guess he saw what I meant because there was blood running down my leg and my torn-up dress was barely covering me. He steadied me and looked away again. And started to take off his pants.

My stomach lurched. "Um, Trevor, what are you...?"

"Put these on," he said, holding his pair of khakis out to me and turning a bright shade of red.

"What?"

"Put them on, please. We need to go back inside and find the nurse."

"You can't just go in there in your...boxers..." Blue, I noticed. Now I was blushing, too.

"Please, Jenny."

"No! I'm not going to wear your stupid--"

And then I stopped, because Trevor was giving me that look out of the corner of his eye, and I knew I had to do it. I sighed in frustration and grabbed the pants out of his hand.

"Don't even know why I'm doing this," I grumbled as I put my feet through the legs of his khakis. "I don't need to see the nurse."

Trevor glared at me. Is he...angry? I wondered suddenly. He had never looked so serious in his life.

"Just come on," he said finally. "Before your boyfriend comes back."

"Oh," I said, starting after him. "Is that what this is? Are you jealous of Jarrod?"

Trevor spun around. "No!" he shouted, his voice making me jump. "I am not jealous of Jarrod!" He took a deep breath and let it out heavily. "Jenny," he said, only a little bit softer, "how could you do this?"

"I didn't do anything, you jerk. If you couldn't tell, Jarrod was the one who did all the doing..."

"Stop it! You let this happen," Trevor all but yelled. "Don't you see that? Did you not think he was going to keep hurting you, over and over, did you not think he was going to do worse things to you? No, Jenny, I'm not jealous of him, I don't wish that I was the one hurting you, I don't wish that I was the one cheating on you, I don't wish that I was the one who raped you tonight. But it looks like I can't stop any of those things from happening, so you might as well forget about me trying to save you anymore."

He stopped there because he was crying again, but I didn't feel sorry for him. At all. Instead, I was angry enough to kill him. Lucky for him, I didn't. But that was only because I was in too much pain to start another fight.

Wiping the tears from his eyes angrily, Trevor grabbed my hand and opened the door to the gym. "Let's go get Principal Burns," he said bitterly, and we were swamped again with the booming dance music and colored lights.

It didn't take long for everyone in the gym to notice Trevor and me, making our way through the crowds. Mostly Trevor, in his white t-shirt and boxer shorts, got all the laughs. Someone got hold of one of the spotlights and aimed it at us, and pretty soon the whole gym was roaring. The DJ seemed to think this was funny as well, because immediately the song "I'm Too Sexy" started up on the speakers. Needless to say, Burns found us before we found her.

"Trevor Jenkins!" she spluttered, grabbing him by the sleeve of his T-shirt and leading him toward the lobby. "I am appalled!"

I followed after them, wincing with every step and holding up Trevor's pants around my waist. But Principal Burns was faster than me, and I lost them in the crowds of gyrating students. I still felt dizzy and faint, and the pain in my entire body seemed to be growing stronger every second. It took me a couple of minutes to squeeze my way to the lobby doors and force them open with my aching shoulder.

The principal's voice caught my ear immediately. She was really chewing out Trevor.

"...indecent and extremely inappropriate conduct, which mind you will certainly be appearing on your permanent record, rest assured Mr. Jenkins that your parents will hear about this immediately, frankly I am surprised at you, unpleasantly surprised..."

"Mrs. Burns," I broke in, pushing Trevor aside, "this isn't what it looks like--"

Principal Burns threw a sidelong glance my way and staggered backward, alarmed. "Miss Weatherholt," she exclaimed, "did you steal that young man's pants?"

"No! No, no, no, they're mine, I mean, he gave them to me--"

"I've known you to come up with some exceptional lies, Jenny Weatherholt, but this tops them all..."

"It's the truth, I swear, Mrs. Burns, it's not his fault--"

"Oh, I know that, now. I can see clearly what has happened here. And I don't think your parents will be very pleased to hear that you've assaulted your date and stolen his clothes, when I call them and tell them..."

"Principal Burns," Trevor interrupted, "she's telling the truth, I gave her my pants because--because, well--"

"You needn't come to her aid, Mr. Jenkins, you're in trouble enough as it is. I want to see you both in my office, first thing Monday morning, and there we will discuss your punishment. As it stands, you both need to leave the dance at once."

"But," Trevor sputtered, "something happened that you need to--"

"At once!"

I elbowed Trevor harshly. "Come on," I said under my breath. Reluctantly he followed me to the door, and we stepped outside into the cold night air again.

"Way to go, Jenkins," I muttered.

Trevor said nothing. I limped along behind him and he stopped every few steps, waiting for me to catch up. Finally he grew impatient and in one swift movement, he lifted me off the ground in his arms and carried me the rest of the way through the parking lot. When we got to his car he opened the back door and laid me down in the back seat. He didn't even ask for his pants back, just slammed the door, got into the driver's seat and threw the car into reverse, zooming out of the parking lot without a single word spoken.

I listened to the drone of the engine, feeling like throwing up again. Stupid Trevor, I thought. Stupid Jarrod. Stupid dance. I closed my eyes.

When we pulled into his driveway, I was half asleep. I heard his door slam again and I came awake with a start. He opened the door to let me out.

"What am I supposed to do, walk home?" I asked drowsily.

Trevor held out his hand, frowning. "You can sleep on my bed. I'll sleep in the living room. I'll wake you up before my mom is up and I can take you home then."

"I'm not sleeping on your bed, you pervert."

"Fine. Sleep in the garage, then." And he slammed the door.

I sat in the car for a moment, then opened the door a little and called out to him. "Don't you need your clothes back?"

"Keep them." He shut the door to his house and I was alone.

For a long time I just sat there, staring into the darkness of the garage and feeling the dull pain pulsing in my body, all the time thinking, He's going to come back, anyway. I won't have to wait five minutes.

The next thing I knew I was waking up cold, curled up on the back seat with my arms buried inside Trevor's hoodie. I wondered how long I had been asleep--it felt like hours. I couldn't fall back asleep no matter how hard I tried, and I couldn't seem to get warm enough. I pulled the hood over my head and snuggled my arms underneath me, then winced at the pain in my wrists and pulled them out again. And started to remember why everything hurt so much.

A tear welled up and ran down my nose. I could feel Jarrod's body against mine, his mouth biting into my skin, his hands under my dress. I trembled and shut my eyes tightly, trying to banish the thoughts from my head. But they turned into visions, and I could see his face, drunken and angry, laughing at me as he held me down on the cement, swaying as he moved back and forth, in and out of me...

I jumped at the sound of footsteps. Suddenly afraid that it was Jarrod coming back to finish the job, I tensed and curled up tighter on the seat. The door to the car opened, and I heard soft breaths. Then a quiet whisper: "Jenny." And I relaxed.

Trevor waited at the door for a moment, but I didn't answer. He climbed into the back seat and sat down next to where my head lay on the soft leather, and he shut the door behind him. I stayed as still as I could. He must have thought I was still asleep because he sighed once, then picked me up a little and laid my head on his lap, stroking my hair gently with his hand. He felt warm and soft, and I realized with some relief that he had found another pair of pants to wear. I tried to stop shivering but found it impossible, and Trevor must have noticed because he flinched and then touched my shoulder and pulled back and touched it again, nervously rubbing at my sleeve to warm me up.

"Jenny," he whispered, sadness in his voice, "I'm sorry, Jenny. I'm sorry." I heard him sniff, and I felt his warm hand gingerly touch my cheek. "I shouldn't have left you alone. I couldn't sleep. I didn't mean...I'm sorry."

This guy... I shut my eyes tighter, wishing I could seal out the sound of his teary voice. You cry too much, for a boy, you know that?

Trevor sniffed again, breathing shakily. He moved his hand slowly to my forehead, combing my hair with his fingers, nervous and unsure.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again. "I shouldn't have said those things to you. I didn't mean them. You were hurt, and I just...I was so mad, you know?" He sighed, taking his hand away to wipe his eyes.

Whatever, I thought, a lump forming in my throat. I don't care what you said. I don't care how mad you were. You weren't the one on the ground...

"Jenny, I just didn't want to see you like that. All beat up and b--bleeding. And when I saw him on--on top of you, I couldn't take it. I wanted to kill him. And then you seemed like--you seemed like you didn't even c--care what had happened. And I was--like, how many times has this happened before? And I couldn't stand that, I felt like I had to stop it, but I couldn't--do anything, and--Jenny--I said those things and I didn't m--mean them, I was just so mad..."

I could feel him shaking now. Normally I would have found some way to blackmail him for crying this hard, but I couldn't even think about that anymore. The lump in my throat was getting too big and I felt like it might burst. Just shut up, Trevor...

"I didn't mean them at all, Jenny. I--I'm always going to be here. I'll always try to save you, even if I--can't."

A tear escaped my eye. I'm not crying. You can't make me cry. I still hate you just as much.

"I'm so sorry, Jenny."

Trevor, you stupid... But I couldn't think because my throat hurt too much, and everything hurt too much, and the tears were running down my face without stopping, and Trevor was crying, and I was crying, and for once in my life I just didn't feel like lying to myself anymore. So I waited there on Trevor's lap and pretended to be asleep until he stopped crying and fell asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around me.