Free Beloved Evangeline by W. C. Anderson

filled with furniture; I was just trying to get my bearings and figure a way out when Steve dove, slamming his body into me and sending both of us onto the stone floor.
     
    To my horror, Steve was on top of me, groping and grabbing and biting at my neck and shoulders. I screamed, but it was too muffled to be heard as he was basically all over me. He was literally trying to tear my shirt off. I heard my clothing tearing as he wrestled to pin me down. I struggled wildly but for all I was worth my struggling seemed to do no good. He responded by twisting my arm behind my back, twisting it so hard that I screamed in pain. I knew I had to do something fast, or something unspeakably ugly was about to happen. I silently cursed myself for not working out more, taking some kind of martial arts class, anything. Lacking those skills, I decided what I needed do to was to kick him, as hard as I could, and make a run for it, if only I could get a leg free.
     
    Steve was struggling with his pants, and therefore momentarily distracted and leaving a small gap between us, likely the only opportunity I was going to get. I thrust my right arm in one sudden movement with all of my strength, wrenching it free. Steve, seeing the free arm, reached out and grabbed for it, but he was too late. I was already using the arm, thrusting it downward as forcefully as I possibly could, until my fist landed on his groin with a brutal-sounding smack.
     
    Steve’s turn to scream in pain. His entire body slackened and shifted to one side in an obvious effort to relieve any pressure from his injured area, which provided me the perfect opportunity to swing one leg out from under him.
     
    My opportunity had come. And so I kicked. Steve flew back harder than I would have imagined possible. Absurdly, unnaturally harder. To my astonishment, he seemed to actually suspend in mid air for several seconds before crashing into a table by the wall.
     
    After scrambling to my feet, I stood there shaking in shock and disbelief. The shock only lasted momentarily, however, before I ran the length of the enormous room toward the French doors that opened to the patio. I crashed into the doors and flung them open. I tried to run out, but my foot seemed to catch on something; I tripped out the door and fell onto the patio.
     
    In Steve’s absence, the party had migrated to the backyard. Everyone was outside. With all my commotion, every conversation ceased; people turned to stare. For several painful moments, the only audible sound was the crashing of the waves.
     
    Eventually I heard some of Steve’s friends sniggering. Several people laughed nervously in response. I brushed at my clothing before willing myself off the ground and catching sight of Gavin, Simon, Nicky, Lyle. Each had a look of extreme disgust I had never seen before.
     
    As I stood up slowly, I saw myself reflected in an enormous mirror on the patio wall.
     
    My hair was completely disheveled. I had lipstick smeared across my face. My shirt was torn, and I had gigantic red marks all over my neck. It occurred to me it must’ve looked to them like I was trying to sneak out the back door, unaware that everyone was now at the back of the house. I was also trembling uncontrollably, though I’m not sure anyone else could see that. Everyone seemed to freeze in place, staring.
     
    “ Please stop begging, baby, it’s not ladylike,” Steve called suddenly from the French doors. He was now wearing only his boxer shorts and speaking much louder than necessary. “I mean, only a total loser wouldn’t be able to take a hint.” He shook his head and made a patronizingly disapproving face. “And, besides, I already told you, one ride per customer, and you already had your turn. You remember the rules , don’t you, girl?” He raised his eyebrows and tossed my purse at me before closing the doors.
     
    Crying at a moment like this is a really pathetic thing to do. Everyone knows that. So I refused to do it. I