1 o n e : trains

July

"N-No," I slur, "I'm sooo drunk."

The music's blasting at Josh Miller's house party, and I've had 6 too many shots. To teachers, my parents, and adults in general, I'm the perfect kid. I make good grades, I play a sport, and I help people at my many service trips. Nobody would expect me to be blackout drunk, literally swimming in a pool of liquor, as Kendrick Lamar says.

My boyfriend disappeared... I don't know, a few hours ago? And I may or may not have experimented with the colorful liquors. I smile to myself. The room is spinning.

I cannot return home like this. Good thing I told my parents I'd be at a friend's house.

My boy-friend, I laugh out loud. I'm sure I look crazy, but that was funny... you know, the "boy" before "friend". Haha.

"Gen, come on," a stern voice says. Buzz kill.

Who am I kidding? Nothing could kill my buzz right now.

The voice lifts me over his shoulder and soon I'm being plopped onto a car seat.

"What the fu--?" I look over to the driver's seat and it's my boyfriend, not some creep, thank God.

Phew. I visibly relax in the seat, while he clicks my seatbelt for me.

After exiting Josh's neighborhood, he sighs, "Gen, why did you get so drunk?"

"I'm not drunk," I say.

"What? I can't understand you."

"I-I," then my eyes start to get weighed down. All outside noise silences and all I see is pitch black.

~The Next Morning~

"What the fuck is this?" he barks.

Damn it, it sounds like he's screeching into my poor ears.

"Aaron, please, lower your voice. It's so painful."

He rolls his eyes, then shoves the phone into my eyes. Bold of him to assume that I can see this shit.

I snatch the phone and hold it away from my face, waiting for my eyes to adjust.

Fuck.

"Why is your naked body posted all over clarenton secrets?"

"I-I don't know? Wha-What?"

"If you're honest about what happened last night, we can get past this."

"Get past what? I obviously didn't take this shit or give anyone permission to POST it! I was wasted out of my mind."

"Can you see what they're saying?" he seethes, "They're saying you had a train ran on you... tha-that at least 4 guys had their way with you last night. I leave you to have fun on your own an-and... this happens," he crosses his arms.

Is he blaming me? There was no train... I don't remember a train. I just drank and danced. Some guy tried to dance with me, but I declined. I would never hurt Aaron in that way--ever. So how could he assume that I would?

"And you believe it? An illegal image of me--child pornography--gets posted for all our friends to see, and you, what? Blame me?"

"It's not looking good," he settles.

It's not looking good... hmm. Well, no shit, especially not for me.

"And you're almost 18."

"In 5 months," I exclaim. I cross my arms, "Is this your way of comforting me, after I could have been raped by multiple guys AND my naked pictures are all over the internet?! Because if so, it's not fucking working."

He sighs, running his hands through his hair, "I'm sorry. I just got angry. The last thing I wanted was for hundreds of people at school to see my girlfriend like that."

"Well, imagine being the one in that position," I roll my eyes.

I'm torn between being panicked about the nudes and wincing in pain from the hangover. My parents! Thank God they don't look at gossip, because if so, my life would be over.

Who am I kidding?... it already is.

He hugs me, but I just remain limp. What the hell am I going to do?

My phone has dozens of messages from friends about the pictures. I know I didn't do anything with anyone last night... not even my own boyfriend. Where was he all night?

Some random number says, "Nice tits. Let's meet up."

Eww.

In the picture, my shirt is pulled up, and the room is dark. I think, in the middle of my drunken rant, I took off my bra because it was "suffocating me"?

Anyway, I went into a bathroom and took it off. I might have left it there. Someone could have easily pulled my shirt up and snapped a pic. This has to be staged. My pants are still on. Someone must have taken advantage of me... for what reason, I have no fucking clue.

I slam my phone down, "How did these creeps even get my number?" I say into my palms.

He sighs, "It'll blow over. Let's just try to calm down."

"Easy for you to say. Your dick isn't all over clarenton secrets," I bark.

"I'm the only one in the picture, Aaron. This has to be staged."

He shrugs, "It doesn't matter at this point. People are going to assume the worst."

"Do you believe me?"

He nods, "I want to, but neither of us really knows what happened."

I lay back, "Right."

After a very awkward morning, he takes me home.

"I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay." I lean in to kiss him goodbye, but he turns away.

"Really," I ask, disappointed.

"I just need time before..."

I close the passenger door and go inside before he can finish. Heading straight upstairs for the shower, I don't even attempt to stop and greet anyone. Thankfully, my parents are out... somewhere. I'm going to need time to compose myself before encountering them again.

Pulling off my top and pants from last night, I take a long look at myself in the mirror. There are no bruises, marks, or signs of struggle. But then again, as drunk as I was, maybe I didn't struggle. Maybe it was easy. I still don't think it happened. Whatever sick fuck is running clarenton secrets... I'm going to find them.

I lock the door and admire my boobs for a while. At least they looked good in the pic? Now I'm just conjuring up any thought that will make me feel better.

I've always been kind of proud of my figure. I play sports, work out a lot, and I've never had an eating disorder. I've been content with my body for as long as I've known... but the release of my nudes on a platform, as public as clarenton secrets, has instilled some unfamiliar insecurity in me. People are definitely saving and distributing the picture... saying things. My body is no longer my own.

Then I focus on my brown nipples. Wait a minute...

I open my phone up to clarenton secrets' twitter page to look at the picture again.

I forward the picture to Aaron.

"I've already seen it."

"I know. Just look closely at the nipples." This sounds weird, but he'll catch on.

I forward the picture to LeAnn, Sophie, and Casandra.

They all reply with pretty much the same responses: "Gen, we've seen it"; "Damn, Gen, are you becoming your own marketing executive, now?"; "I'm so sorry that this happened. Do you need anything? Are you going to call the police?"

I just tell them to focus on the nipples again.

Time to wash off the shame and embarrassment from last night. I'm doing my over-the-top, extra shower routine today.

Grabbing my loofah, my dove soap bar, my sugar scrub, and a razor, I hop in. As soon as the hot water hits my back, I let out a yelp. Who turned the water heater up?

Clarenton secrets has about ten thousand followers, most of the teenagers in Clarenton county, New York. Most people know others from the different schools in the area. A lot of people around the county know of me. I'd hate to assume that someone dislikes me enough to pull this shit, but I know that I wouldn't do this... not even to Aaron, but in general, it's not my style. I feel a little vain, assuming that someone in our area would target me... like I'm some public figure or something, but it has to be true.

Also, after a "train," wouldn't my vagina feel sore or something? I feel nothing. They would have had to force themselves on me to accomplish that. There's no evidence of force. This is just getting fishy.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not an easy girl. Aaron had to work for over a year for this. So what do I look like, letting multiple guys, who I don't know, inside me, in one night? It's completely out of character for me. Someone's going to realize that, and this will all be over. The rumors will be put to rest and creeps will stop texting me inappropriate shit.

I exit the shower, dry off, and moisturize my skin. I feel fresh and clear-minded.

My phone has over 10 unread messages. They've figured it out.

Suddenly, Aaron calls.

"This girl has a nipple piercing," he says, like a detective. Bingo.

"And my nipples are hole-less," I reply triumphantly.