literature

Peter and Me. Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

My heart leaped up violently at the mention of Peter’s name and the room reeled crazily around me. On shaky legs I closed the distance between us and seized his shoulders in a death grip.

“What happened? Where’s Peter?”

“In the car with Rick,” he said, grabbing my arms as I tried to push him out of the way. “Wait Justin. Calm down, you’ll only make things worse if you go out there acting crazy.”

Fear melted into rage and I pushed Skyler back against the door hard.

“Don’t tell me to calm the fuck down, tell me what the hell happened!” I demanded, digging my fingers into his shoulders. “You and Rick were supposed to look out for him, damn it. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Skyler said, trying unsuccessfully to break my hold on him. “I swear we only left him for a minute to dance and when we went back he was gone. Someone must have snagged him because we found him many hours later passed out on a couch in one of the privet back rooms.”

My eyes widened as Skyler’s words sunk in. “Passed out? Was he…did he look…” my throat tightened and I couldn’t bring myself to finish.

“Did he look like he was raped? I don’t know, maybe to some extent. His makeup was messed up and his pants was undone so someone must have had their way with him.”

“You don’t know? My God, what the hell is wrong with you! Why didn’t you guys take him to the hospital and have him checked? What about the cops? Didn’t it occur to any of you to report this?”

Skyler broke my grip on him and shoved me away hard, his eyes blazing.

“ Report what? That our friend got wasted with some guy and fucked around in a privet room on a couch? Yeah, I’m sure they’d take us seriously, especially when they see what we’re dressed as and that it happened in a gay nightclub. God, Justin what did you expect us to do? Cops don’t believe girls when they claim to be raped, what the hell makes you think they’d believe a bunch of gothic fag’s? Even if we did tell, we had no way of proving anything happened or who did it. Peter was stoned out of his mind when we found him and couldn’t tell us shit. Rick and me had to practically carry him out of the club. I know we fucked up big but there’s nothing else we could of done. Now, do you want me to go get Peter or do you want to beat the crap out of me first?”

“Can I do both?” I asked, running both hands through my hair. “God, I can’t believe this. Go get Peter and bring him in the bedroom, I’ll get the bed ready. Is he still out of it?”

“Yes. He’s been slipping in and out of consciousness so I doubt he’s aware of anything.”

All my anger and pent up energy suddenly evaporated, leaving me feeling weak and empty. Tears were building behind my eyes, trying to push their way out but I fought them back and forced everything from my mind as I hurried to the bedroom. Turning on the light, I pulled the covers down on the bed and fussed with fluffing the pillow, desperate to keep from thinking or feeling anything. I heard scuffling in the hallway behind me and I quickly retreated to the foot of the bed as Skyler and Rick came in with an unconscious Peter supported between them.  

I watched mutely as Peter was laid carefully on the bed, his eyes closed and his lips slightly apart. From where I stood I could see his eye and lip makeup was smeared and there was a dark pink mark on the side of his neck. As Rick began undoing Peter’s shoes something happened in my chest that caused such sharp pain that it took my breath away. I fled the room and sought refuge in the kitchen. Bowing my head against the refrigerator, I tried to calm down and get a hold of myself. Repeating, “he’s okay” over and over in my head I opened the refrigerator and grabbed another beer. Taking several long, parched swallows I leaned against the counter and closed my eyes as the beer began easing tension and soften raging emotions. By the time Skyler and Rick joined me I had regained my composure enough to ask how Peter was without choking.

“He’s sleeping. We removed his shoes and shirt and he never woke up,” Rick said, rubbing the back of his neck and flexing his shoulders. “You really shouldn’t be drinking, Justin. Now’s not the time to get drunk.”

“I can have a couple of beers and still be sober.”

“Are you going to be okay alone? Do you want us to stay over tonight?”

Shaking my head I waved his concern away. “I’m fine Rick, really. You guys go home, get some rest. If anything happens I’ll call you. Okay?”

I could tell Rick wanted to argue the point but Skyler placed a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the door.

“He’s right, there’s nothing else for us to do here so we might as well go. Call us tomorrow, Justin and let us know how he’s doing.”

I nodded and watched as they left, my mind racing on what to do now. Sleep was defiantly not going to happen tonight. Finishing my beer I took a deep breath and walked slowly to the bedroom. The light was off so I turned it on and went to Peter’s bedside. The blanket was pulled up to his neck so all I could see was his face, so serene and beautiful in sleep despite the clownish makeup covering it. Acting on impulse I turned and hurried to the bathroom, soaked a facecloth with warm water and returned to Peter’s side. Kneeling besides him I touched his hair gingerly, grimacing at its stiffness. Half hoping he would wake, I dabbed at his cheek with the facecloth, wiping off the makeup the best I could. He didn’t stir, not even when I wiped off the eye shadow on his lids.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. “I should have been there with you. I should of…”

My control broke and I fell back against the bed, a sob escaping through clenched teeth. I covered my face with my hands; my whole body shaking with repressed sobs as a wave of guilt washed over me. Why hadn’t I gone with them? Peter was so damn naïve; I should of known something like this would happen. Wiping my face with the damp facecloth, I slowly brought myself back under control and stood up. What was done was done, I couldn’t change it but I couldn’t dwell on it either. Peter’s well being was all that mattered now. Tossing the facecloth on a pile of dirty clothes in the far corner I went over to the light switch and flicked it off. Tired both physically and mentally I shuffled over to my side of the bed and stretched out besides Peter, careful not to disturb him. Though I fought hard not to, sleep eventually claimed me
OK. I need help here. Should I put in a prt with Peter waking up and Justin covering up what happened or is this chapter fine the way I have it? I really need to know, otherwise I'm just going to gloss over Peter waking up and the whole incident next chapter and move onto something else.
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Poor Peter :(