Resurrection Page 3

  After relieving myself, brushing my teeth, and prepping my skin for makeup, I go into my closet to pick my outfit for the day before expertly applying concealer and tinted moisturizer so cover the bruising. When I finish, it’s like there’s nothing amiss. I take my time thoroughly waking up before grabbing my phone to see the time and what notifications I have waiting for me.

  As soon as I unlock my phone, I’m instantly puzzled by the amount of texts and instagram notifications I have. A sense of dread starts filling my stomach before I even know why. As I start reading through the messages, my lungs empty harshly and I gasp loudly. The dirty photos I had sent Pres were posted on social media and everyone has seen them. I fall back onto my bed and start hyperventilating. How could this happen? He couldn’t have betrayed me like that, right? Especially after last night. Right? Even as I think the opposite, I can’t help this sense of uneasiness rolling through me. Pres had to be involved somehow, because no one else even knew about the pictures besides him and I. He had to have told someone, or shown them to someone. Oh god, what if he posted them? I sobbed as my mind went around in circles and I clutch my pillow to my chest. After a few moments, I pull back my emotions and stuff them in a small corner of my mind. The only way to deal with this is to face it head on.

  I gather my courage and strength with every step from my bed to my door and walk out with my head held high. When I reach the stairs and start descending, I see my brother sitting at the dining room table scrolling through his phone. I can tell by the set of his shoulders and the tense muscles of his back that he knows. It was naive of me to think he wouldn’t find out when I did. I mean, up until yesterday, we did go to the same school. I gulp and continue my stride to the kitchen to grab some Irish Breakfast tea. While Sebastian is a coffee man through and through, I prefer a much more mellow tea. He sees me enter in his peripheral vision and he turns to me. His pale eyes are accusing, his lips pursed in an angry frown, and his jaw is clenched. His large hand is clutching his phone so tight, I think he may crush it. I haven’t seen him this angry with me in a long time.

  “Do you have anything you want to mention to me? Anything to say at all?” He asks bitingly.

  “Excuse me? Watch your tone and how you fucking speak to me. Yes, I took some nudes. Yes, they got leaked. Yes, I’m mortified. Now, get the fuck over it.” I sound shocked, because I am. I’m trying my damndest to not to show the terrible betrayal I feel. I don’t want Bass to know that I sent those pictures to Prescott or that it could’ve been him that leaked them. I want to keep that particular embarrassment to myself, thank you.

  Some of the venom leaves his eyes and his entire body sags against the chair, his hand dropping his phone on the table. He looks guilty and he says, “I’m sorry. I was shocked and I’m damn angry that all these people are seeing my sister like that. I guess I needed someone to blame for it. Who did you take them for? Did you send them?” He has the sense to sound contrite for his previous tone.

  “No, I didn’t send them. My iCloud must have been hacked or something.” Denial, denial, denial. I’ll never admit to sending them to Prescott. My poker face is in full effect. “I took them for myself. I was feeling sexy and wanted to remember how I was feeling in that moment.”

  Bass looks a bit green during my explanation, just reaffirming that he has seen the pictures much to my chagrin. He takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly before responding.

  “Well there’s no sugarcoating this. That momentarily lapse of judgement fucked you. These are everywhere. Everyone has seen them. I have tons of people texting me about them. Mom and Dad are definitely going to catch wind of this. It’s a mess.” I shrink with each point he makes, no matter how logical and rational. He stares at me for a moment, as if trying to figure something out.

  “BUT… I’m here for you. I’ve got your back. I’m certainly not going to leave you to face this on your own. We’ll deal with this together, before I have to leave for school. I’m sure Prescott will help navigate it too.”

  “No! No need to ask him at all. In fact, I’d rather he wasn’t included in this game plan.” I say loudly, panicking inside. “I mean, as close as we all are, he’s not my brother. It’ll be weird, and I don’t need that right now. Please just don’t involve him.” I work hard at keeping my tone even and delivering my wishes without being suspicious.

  Bass gives me a look like I’m crazy. “Okay, whatever you say. I think he could help, but if you’re set on not involving him…” he leaves the statement open ended, as if waiting for me to come to my senses and retract my resistance to Prescott helping.

  “Thank you.” I say, giving him a nod then averting my eyes. “What’s the first step on our plan of action, Mister Fix It?”

  “First and foremost, a statement of some kind. We need to get ahead of this. Make a post on your own page about lowlifes hacking into private photos. I think if we minimize the damage, it’ll help your reputation.” He sounds earnest in making sure I’m not branded a whore. “You also need to talk to our parents… They’re not going to be pleased, but I’m sure they’ll be understanding. It’s not like you posted them everywhere.”

  “Gee, thanks. I really appreciate that.” I proclaim sarcastically. Rolling my eyes, I sit down with my tea to type out a rough draft to post to Instagram. Once I finish, and Bass proofreads it, I post it. The general gist is that some lowlife hacked my iCloud and stole the photos to blast everywhere. That they’re private and weren’t meant for anyone’s eyes but my own. Next, a talk with Mom and Dad. They’re running errands, so I’ll have to wait until they get home.

  As I’m waiting, Pres texts me multiple times. He tries saying he had nothing to do with it, that he doesn’t know how they got leaked, that he wants to come over and talk to me. I just reply with short answers and get straight to the point.

  No.

  Fuck you.

  I’m good never seeing you again.

  You fuckwad.

  I hate you.

  Leave me alone.

  Last night was a mistake.

  I’m done.

  Stop contacting me.

  Eventually, I inform him that Bass doesn’t know anything, that I covered for him and stop responding. My parents get home an hour later and we all sit down to discuss what was going on. The talk goes on for awhile, with both of them expressing disappointment and my mom bursting into tears. By the end of the conversation, they both expressed that they support me no matter what and will always love me. At least my family has my back. As much as I’m going to miss my brother when he leaves for college, I won’t be upset seeing Prescott leave after what he just pulled.

  After a terrible night of dodging calls and texts on my phone and crying myself to sleep, I wake up feeling oddly lighter. Maybe it was all the cathartic tears. Regardless, I get up. I splash some cold water on my face, and just fake it until I make it. I respond to some friends messages, explaining and trying to laugh it off. There’s only so much I can do when the world has seen my tits and twat besides find the humor in it. We make plans to get together and get my mind off things.

  I emerge from my room to see my dad making French toast and fried eggs. It’s definitely a show of unity, to try and make me feel better, because he hasn’t made French toast in years. My mom is in the kitchen too, making fresh juice to go with breakfast. It looks like a pineapple and orange blend. Yum. I internally ground myself, breathing in for ten seconds and releasing slowly. Once finished, I finished the trek down the stairs and into the dining nook off of the kitchen. I sit next to Bass and draw on his strength to handle this awkward interaction with the family. Hopefully, after our discussion last night, things are more comfortable.

  “I’ve got to head into town here soon. There’s a bunch of stuff I need to get for our dorm room and I’m meeting up with Pres. I want to get it now so it’s one less thing to worry about later. Do you want to come with?” Bass asks me, looking at me hopefully. “I could use your expert guidance.”

 
I freeze and fight the panic I feel at the thought of seeing Prescott.

  “No, thank you. While I appreciate the offer, I think I’m going to stay home today. Try to stay off social media too.” I say deceptively calm and give him a slight smile. I’m just not prepared to deal with all that right now. Or ever.

  “You can’t hide out. You need to show everything that you don’t care and it’s not a big deal. If you don’t, people will keep talking about it and blowing things out of proportion.”

  Honestly, he has a point and I get where he’s coming from. Does that mean it’s happening? No. My pride is hurt, I feel betrayed, and I’m not going to willingly see that traitor ever again if I can manage it.

  “I’m not, I promise. I just decided that I want to get some extra credit work done over summer so I want to get a head start on it.” I feel the lies slip through my lips easily, though it’s not a bad idea. I’ve always done very well in school. It just comes easy to me and I don’t have to apply myself much for me to coast by. If I actually worked at it, I could probably test out and graduate early. There we go, that’s my summer goal. Graduate early and never have to face anyone at school who has seen my naked body.

  Bass eyes me suspiciously, but lets it go. He’s always told me to push myself because there’s always room for improvement, so he can’t possibly see this as anything other than a good idea. My mom puts down a plate of French toast and fresh fruit and a glass of juice in front of me and kisses the top of my head. My eyes start to burn because I know how much I’ve disappointed them both but they’re such good people that they continue to shower me with love. I blink the tears away and tell them both thank you. The rest of breakfast is quiet, but comfortable. I finish my plate and load it into the dishwasher. Glancing once more at my family sitting at the table, I turn towards the living room and start heading to my room.

  “I’m going to take a quick shower. I’ll see you later, Bass. Love you, Mom and Dad!” I yell out as I start walking up the stairs.

  Once I reach my room, I close my door behind me and lean against it. Sliding down to the floor, I dissolve into a mess of tears. Silently sobbing and wrapping my arms tightly against my core, I feel my heart breaking into two. Losing something you’ve waited so long for burns something fierce. Combine that with the embarrassment of being blasted online and the shame I was feeling? I was wrecked. I can put on a brave face and lie to myself, but the sting of this was going to take longer than a day to go away. I clench my fists until my nails are digging into my palms so deeply that I bleed. That feeling of pain seems to numb my heartache slightly. Enough to stop crying anyways. My breathing slows as I lay limp on the floor.

  I give myself another minute to wallow before getting up and dragging myself to the bathroom. I turn the shower and start stripping my clothes. As soon as I’m naked and the water is as hot as I can stand it, I step under the scalding cascade. Luckily my childhood home has a tankless water heater, so I’m not going to run out of hot water and could probably stay in here until I died. I slide to the floor of the shower and sit, disassociating while the water beats against my skin and washes my sins away. I lose track of how long I’ve been in here. My body seems to have a mind of its own and before I know it, I use my nail to cut my upper thigh. Since I’ve been in the shower for awhile and my skin is softened, it immediately bleeds. Somehow, seeing the blood stain the water and whirl into the drain, lightens my heart. I feel like I can breathe.

  Reveling in that pain, my hand begins to run over my body. I shiver as they run over my sensitive nipples. My breath quickens when they reach my pulsing clit. I start rubbing myself with one hand as I press against the cut on my thigh and the combination of pain and pleasure get me to the edge quickly. I release my hold on the cut to press against my asshole. It makes me think of Prescott claiming my virginity and making me cum so hard that I saw stars. The moment I thought of him, I shoot off. Immediately, the feeling of euphoria overtakes my body. The despair in my heart is replaced with immense pleasure.

  Once I come down to reality, I start tearing up again. I can’t even get myself off without thinking of that prick. My best sexual experience ever was now tainted. He made me discover so much about myself and now all I feel is shame. Shame that I gave him so much. Shame that I let him play with my ass and now think of him every time I touch that puckered flesh. Shame that I still want to fuck him. I begin hating myself for it. So I sit there, watching the blood from my still bleeding cut rush down the drain and plunge into deep self-hatred.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The next couple months pass by in a blur, and the end of summer is here before I know it. I spend a great deal of time ignoring the feelings inside me, working on graduating early, and spending as much time with my brother as I can before he leaves. Though I don’t get to spend quite as much time with him as I want to because the need to avoid Prescott wins out. So when they meet up, I leave before he arrives. Bass doesn’t seem to put two and two together and notice that I’m avoiding his best friend, but I prefer to keep it that way so I get creative in my excuses for my absences. My school work takes up a decent chunk of my time, but it’s worth it because I know I’ll be finished with high school earlier than expected and it keeps me occupied.

  If I stay on track, I’ll have all my classes finished this week. That means I’ll literally graduate before the start of what’s supposed to be my junior year. I tested out of the unnecessary classes and jumped right into senior and dual credit classes that I could complete online over summer break. So if I play my cards right, I’ll be able to start college in the fall at the same time as my brother. Albeit, different schools. No way in hell am I risking running into Prescott. While my brother and Prescott both were accepted into Harvard for business, my real dream is to attend Columbia University. It has a leading Master’s architecture program that I routinely drool over. If I blast through my bachelors in Architecture and am able to get my Masters degree utilizing this program, I’ll be taken serious in a man dominated industry. And for a woman like myself, that’s quite the feat.

  During a break between classes, I watch some mind-numbing tv in the living room and snack on French fries and strawberry ice cream. I hear the front door open and close and footsteps making their way to me. I don’t bother tearing my gaze from the tv and enjoying my fattening brain food, assuming it’s Bass.

  “Camille, please talk to me. I’m sorry. I don’t know how those pictures got out. It wasn’t me.”

  I freeze as the words and the voice saying them registers. Prescott fucking Donahue is standing behind me after avoiding him all summer. My anxiety flies off the charts and my heart starts pounding. Refusing to engage, I stand up with my snack and walk into the kitchen to put everything away. He follows me, waiting for me to say something. I resist the urge to turn around and look at him, knowing how weak I am and how quickly I’d break. I hate how much I still love him and how attracted I still am to him. He’s all I think about when I touch myself and I despise it.

  “Fuck off, Pres. I have nothing to say to you.” I say bitingly, hoping he gets the hint and leaves me alone.

  “Fuck off? Fuck off?! Seriously? I’ve been fucking off all summer. I respected your wishes and gave you your space, against my better judgement. You can’t avoid me the rest of your life.” He sounds frustrated and slightly cold. As if he’s the one who should be upset. What bullshit.

  “Maybe not. But I’m sure as hell going to give it a try.” The sarcasm dripped heavily from the statement and I hear him huff behind me.

  “I care about you Camille, but this is killing me. It wasn’t my fault, but you’re blaming me as if I’m the one who plastered your nudes all over the internet. And that’s not fair. If you don’t talk to me before I leave to Harvard with your brother, I’m done. I can’t keep waiting for you to warm up towards me and work it out.”

  The ultimatum hung thick in the air and I suddenly feel claustrophobic. I’m still so angry and hurt that I immediately lash out.


  “Oh, fuck you Prescott. There’s nothing to work out. We’re finished. Whatever we had was a mistake. Have a nice life.”

  My words are met with silence and next thing I hear is footsteps followed by the sound of the front door slamming. My eyes burn, my heart is racing, and I’m suddenly dripping sweat. I run upstairs to my room, slamming the door behind me, and throw myself on the bed. I haven’t let myself cry about him anymore, but that definitely felt like a door closing in more ways than one and I’m suddenly overwhelmingly emotional.