I wake up on Saturday morning in a daze. Yesterday was so weird and wonderful, and my stomach fills with butterflies at the mere thought of him. Calum. He was so beautiful, and I was so stunned, almost like I'd been hypnotized. Sitting up in bed, I rub my eyes and check my phone. A new message from Amanda from last night. Crap. I open it.

We won the lacrosse game 22-0! Victory party at Clark's tonight...pretty sure at least half the school is going to be there. Are you coming?

I smile to myself. Of course we won. River View doesn't lose, period. I text her back and tell her I'll be there, and then slump back onto my pillow. It's a beautiful day outside, but I have to be at work in an hour so I savor my last few minutes of restfulness. I wonder if Calum is going to be at the party. Is he a good dancer? What if he asks me to dance? What if he doesn't even talk to me? My mind races with possibilities. Pinching my eyes shut, I silently vow not to think of him any more for the rest of the day. Then, I sit up again, jump out of bed, and pull on a Peter Gabriel t-shirt and some jeans. Once I'm on my third cup of coffee, I'm feeling slightly more controlled. I grab my bag and head for the door. When I sneak a peek at my face in the hallway mirror, a noise of disgust escapes my mouth. Frantically I try to smooth down my mass of curly hair. It's only somewhat effective, so I sigh and grab my keys, locking the door behind me.

After wasting my refreshed energy on an uneventful four hour shift at Barnes & Noble, I slowly climb back into the drivers' seat of my '76 Impala and slouch down behind the wheel, suppressing a groan. The party is in half an hour and I still haven't changed out of my work clothes. Parties aren't really my scene. I like the idea behind them but I can never bring myself to actually socialize when I'm there. I did promise Amanda that I would go, though. And maybe I'll see Calum, too. The thought makes me perk up, and I grab my change of clothes and head into the Target bathroom next door. Since it's kind of cold and December is approaching fast, I change into a navy blue sweater dress and white flats. My hair is mildly calmer now. I'm still nervous that it will reduce to its natural state, so I push it back with a thin black headband. The exciting yet terrifying notion that I might run into Calum again lingers in the back of my mind; so to stay on the safe side, I put on a little makeup and some perfume just in case. Taking a step back I analyze myself in the mirror. My legs are a little too long, my cheeks are a little too round, and my eyes are a little too far apart. But my glasses accentuate my face very nicely. I stand up a little straighter, and practice smiling. Perfect. I walk out of the Target and back to my car.

Clark, the lacrosse team's best player, owns a penthouse apartment in the heart of Miami big enough for 20 people. As far as I know, only he and his brother live there; but they don't mind displaying their parents' wealth for the entire city to see. The elevator pings, announcing my arrival on the top floor, and the music is thumping through the walls. As soon as the door slides open, Amanda sprints towards me and wraps me up in a hug. "I'm so glad you came!" she gushes. I smile and pull back, holding her at arms length, and study her. She looks absolutely gorgeous in a short strapless yellow dress and glittering silver pumps, her hair falling loosely around her shoulders. "I wouldn't miss it," I say. "You look gorgeous, by the way." She grins and says "You too!" before grabbing my hand, leading me into the crowded space. Amanda was right; a large portion of the entire school was now cramped into Clark's too-big living area. Lights were flashing and everyone stood close together, moving rhythmically to the music. It was business as usual: girls huddled together in big packs while guys acted like complete jackasses to impress them. Couples were draped lazily around couches and tables, sloppily kissing and drinking beer. Plastic cups already littered a small portion of the floor. Some boys from the swim team sit at a table in the back corner playing beer pong. I search the room frantically for Calum, but he is nowhere to be seen. I let out a small sigh of disappointment and walk over to some girls I know at the bar.

We chat for a while, and I take sips of beer, listening as the crowd gets louder and louder. The girls I sit with are named Hayley and Angelica. They're both outgoing, beautiful, funny, and smart, and I laugh as they turn down each desparate boy who approaches them. "Some guys just need to take a hint," groans Angelica, laying her head down on her arms. "I'm not open for business." When she's done rejecting yet another acne ridden mathlete, Hayley turns toward us and lets out a long sigh. "Okay is it just me or should we be passing out mints? Control your drinking, people." I giggle. They've been boy magnets since we were in the 6th grade. I'm somewhat relieved that no one decides to confront me and ask for a dance, though - watching them struggle is very uncomfortable. I silently thank my mom that I didn't get the drop-dead-gorgeous gene. "Great party," says a voice from behind me. I freeze. Oh, no, I think. What am I even going to say to him? My heart is pounding as I turn around. The face that meets mine isn't Calum's, however, and I feel my heart rate slow. Thank god. Sitting in a chair next to me is one of the swim boys who was playing beer pong. He has flippant curly blond hair, a crooked nose, and piercing blue eyes. I arch my eyebrow slightly. This boy is sort of cute. He stares at me with a lopsided grin. "Wanna dance?" I steal another glance around the room, but Calum is still nowhere in sight. Holding in a sigh, I consider him. He's not bad looking, and I rarely ever get asked out. Might as well give it a shot. I put on a smile, and say "Sure! Why not?" He takes my hand and we stand up, making our way into the crowd.

Apparently, the boy's name is Brandon. He's incredibly smart; he won two first place trophies for national writing competitions this year. He's well cultured and enjoys music and books from all time periods, and he's also really fun to be around. His laugh is infectious, and I like him immediately. We dance to Uptown Funk, and I'm a little uptight at first. I'm not really used to this whole thing. He starts making goofy faces at me and beckons me towards him with his finger. I laugh, a real genuine laugh that reaches my eyes and makes my heart sing. It feels good hanging out with someone other than Amanda. Deciding to trust him, I push through the people on either side of me and he pulls me close, putting his hands on my hips, my back against his chest. I shiver a little. It feels - nice. The beer is making me brave, so I let loose and after a few songs I start grinding on him. He moans softly in my ear. We dance like this for a while; all hands and bodies and physical contact. After about an hour, we collapse at the bar and start drinking. "It's time for shots!" Brandon cheers, leaning over the counter towards the bartender and winking suggestively. She flushes and reaches under the countertop for two glasses. I giggle. He's so much fun. I barely ever let go like this. I gaze at him fondly. As he plays with a napkin on the table, he looks up and catches my eye. "What?" he asks innocently.

"Nothing," I stare down at my hands and pull at my nails. "I just - I haven't had this much fun in a really long time." He laughs. "A girl as sexy as you should be fighting off guys just to get to her front doorstep!" Blushing, I tip up the shot glass until every last ounce of beer is gone, then stare at my reflection in the empty cup. Sexy? I don't think so. Amanda tells me that all the time but I don't believe her. I'm not ugly, but I'm not the kind of girl that typical River View guys - or, for that matter, any guys - are looking for. Now slightly lightheaded, the room spins a little; but I'm having too much fun to care. "I guess tonight's my night, then." Brandon flashes me a sly grin and we order another round of drinks as he starts talking about school and his parents. He's so sweet and caring. I wonder what he's doing at a slutty high school party like this. He waits until I finish the last sip of my drink, then says, "Come and meet some of my friends." "Okay," I grin, and he takes my hand and leads me into the other room.

Suddenly, the world starts fading in and out. I can't see clearly, and all the noise from the party turns into a pounding in my ears. "Whoa," I hear my voice distantly. My vision clouds with darkness as I struggle to stay upright. "Hold on." I try to stop walking, but I feel Brandon's hand tighten as he pulls me down the hallway. "Wha-that hurts, stop it," I say, but it comes out as a quiet simper instead of a command. Everything is turning into mush. I can't even stand up straight. My legs crumple underneath me and I fall to the floor. My stomach is churning like a washing machine, and my head feels as though someone is pushing against both sides of it with a rock. This is definitely not the alchohol; I made sure not to drink too much. So then what's happening? My heart starts pounding as a thought occurs to me. "Did you," I begin, my tongue slippery. I shake my head and bite the inside of my cheek. It takes me a second to remember how to speak again. "Is this drugs?" My head is thumping and fear floods over me. I feel him pull me off the floor. "No," I beg. "I can't - just no." He leads me into a dimly lit room and he pushes me back onto a bed.

This can't be happening, I think. He drugged me. What was I thinking? I command myself to scream for help, to fight back. My legs are jello and my brain feels fuzzy like an old silent movie. I'm barely conscious anymore. He climbs over me and pins my arms down by my sides, holding me in place with his hips, paralyzing my whole body. His cold hands slowly hike up my dress revealing my stomach and legs. I feel his body against mine and it takes all my willpower to register what's happening. He starts trailing kisses down my neck. I squirm, trying to get away, and his grip on my arm tightens. "Don't tell anyone about this," he purrs in a silky voice. "It's okay." I whimper quietly. I want anything to make this stop. I try to cry, but it's like I've forgotten how. So I just lie there, like a ragdoll, exactly the way he wants me to. He slowly puts his mouth on mine. "No," I manage to get out, and I use my body to push him a little. But it's too quiet; everything I say is too quiet, and all I want is to be heard.

Without warning, the door opens and light floods into the room. My head rolls lazily on my neck. I hear someone shouting almost as if they're a million miles away. "What the hell?" Brandon jumps away from me. "Get out," he growls. I'm fading fast but I try desparately to hold onto the conversation. "What are you doing?" "I said, get out!" "Get the hell away from her!" I hear a grunt and a blow landing. I pray with every ounce of energy I have left that the person who came to rescue me is winning.

More shouts echo from the main room and the music suddenly switches off. I hear footsteps running and twitch slightly hoping that someone will notice me. "Hannah!" I recognize Amanda's panicked voice. She sprints over to me and grabs my face in her hands. "Hey, hey, look at me," she says shakily. My eyelids feel heavy, but I keep my eyes open, holding on to the details of her face. "You're gonna be fine." I try to nod but my head barely moves. Darkness is closing in on me and my muscles contract. "Everybody out!" I hear a voice roar above the crowd. It sounds like the small audience that gathered along the back wall to get a closer look disappears almost at once. Someone pulls Amanda from my side. She's crying and begging to stay with me, but the voice says some soothing words to her and soon she leaves the room to dial 911. Smooth hands slip under my back and scoop me up off the bed. I recoil at their touch and let out a small whimper.

"Hey. It's okay," the voice says. "You'll be fine, Hannah." Hannah. I recognize him instantly. I struggle to find my words, but I have to know it's him. I have to be sure. "Calum," I breathe. "Mhm," he whispers. My heart soars. "Everything's okay, you're safe now." I feel a surge of relief and gratitude. How did he find me? He carries me out the down the hall and through a door, and a burst of cool air greets us as he walks out onto the landing. I still feel terrified and woozy, but now embarassment shrouds my thoughts. He sits down on a bench on the rooftop and presses something cold to my lips. I wrap my mouth around it. A water bottle. He cradles me in his lap as I gulp down the cool liquid until it's gone. "Amanda's getting you help, okay?" I shift slightly, still dazed, and moan. He plants a kiss on my forehead and I feel a rush of both adrenaline and confusion as I wonder how he even got here in the first place. "I need you to hold on, try to hold on to my voice," he pleads, stroking the side of my head. "Please don't pass out. Please." My body rocks slightly as his grip tightens around me to keep me from slipping onto the ground. He says a few more things but I'm too far gone to understand them. The last thing I hear are distant sirens before everything fades to black.