More Than This: A More Novella Read Free Page A

“Thanks, Roar.”
    He stared at me. “He’s coming to let you in?”
    I nodded. “He wasn’t happy about it, but he is.”
    “So you’re fine from here?”
    “Yeah.”
    He smiled, then took a step down the stairs. “That’s it then.”
    “But—” He didn’t have anywhere to go. “Do you want to come in? Spend the night? If you can’t go home…” I trailed off, not sure what I was going to say.
    He looked down at the display of his mobile. “He’s likely passed out now, so it’s safe for me to sneak in.”
    I didn’t want him to go.
    The realisation hit me straight in the gut. “What about your hoodie?” I grabbed the front of it.
    He smiled ruefully up at me. He was already down the stairs and in the driveway now. “Hold onto it for me.”
    With that he walked off.
    I stared after his back, at how he huddled in his jacket. I should’ve insisted he take his hoodie back, so he wouldn’t be cold. I was about to be let inside, after all, whereas he had a whole walk back home.
    I didn’t even know where he lived.
    The door unlocked and opened behind me.
    “Blimey, Maria.” Ben’s sleepy face appeared. His hair stuck up in all directions. “What the hell are you doing out so late? And getting yourself locked out?”
    “I lost my jacket.”
    I slipped past him inside.
    He eyed me, a bit more awake now. “That’s all you’re wearing? Who’s jumper is that?”
    “Someone who took pity on me.” I stared down at the baggy hoodie, then hugged my arms close and breathed in the scent of his cologne.
    “Go take a hot shower before you sleep. Or you’ll end up sick.” He brushed past me. “Good night. And don’t wake me until noon, please.” He waved a sleepy hand, then disappeared down to the basement.
    I took the stairs two at a time until I reached the landing upstairs. I took his advice and showered, then dressed in pyjamas—and Roar’s hoodie—before I climbed into bed.
    Once I’d tucked my duvet properly around me and lay curled up, I allowed myself to think about what had happened earlier in the night. About what I couldn’t remember.
    Shit .
    Maybe Roar was right.
    Maybe I should’ve gone to the police.
    But it was too late now. I’d already showered.

3
    The Morning After
    I woke Sunday morning to a severe case of anxiety.
    What hadn’t quite crawled up on me the night before, as I’d still been drunk and freezing and crying, now dawned on me full force.
    What happened last night?
    What did I do?
    What didn’t I do?
    Was I forced into anything?
    Not knowing wreaked havoc with me, and I curled up further in my bed, drawing my duvet tight around me.
    Damn it all to hell and back .
    How could I have been so careless? I never drank too much, I never had blackouts, I never had random sex with people I didn’t know.
    That wasn’t me .
    And yet I’d done it. Or possibly done it, anyway.
    Or even worse… I’d been raped.
    But no, if I’d been raped, I certainly would’ve felt that right? Girls who were raped weren’t aroused by it, so all the natural lubricant didn’t happen during a sexual assault. Thus, it would hurt afterwards.
    I didn’t hurt. Nothing at all felt different.
    I inched a hand under the duvet, slipped it under the hem of my pyjama trousers, and under my panties. Then I tentatively touched myself, feeling for something . Something out of place… if it hurt.
    But nothing felt out of place, nothing hurt.
    So I probably wasn’t assaulted. That doesn’t mean I had sex, but that I likely had it willingly.
    Sex with Jakob. Why had my drunken self ever thought that would be a good idea? His girlfriend was a raging bitch—not to mention one of the more popular girls in school and our year’s russ president.
    I did not want to get into any drama.
    Not to mention, my jacket was still missing, along with my wallet and mobile. I should get up and do something about that, close my payment plan and shit, but I couldn’t be arsed.
    Even if I was pretty sure I hadn’t