2. James [2009]

Name: James
His Age: 22-25
My Age: 17
Where: tacky hotel room, town next to shitty hometown, Florida

The next time I saw James, I was waiting to be picked up for yet another pre-arranged sexual exchange. Him and Jared had always wanted to share….

I had gotten in a fight with my Aunt-Mom earlier that day. I had asked her if we could go to a doctor to discuss placing me on birth control. I told her it was because my acne was so bad and she hadn’t ever taken me to dermatologist. I argued that it had improved my older sister, Lea’s face, and that it was only fair.
She came back asking if I had a boyfriend, which she knew I did not, and then with, who did I plan on having sex with.

I told her it was always good to be prepared.

Later that evening, after everyone in the house was asleep, I crawled out of my window, still angry at my mom.

They picked me up right out front, waiting in the red F250, engine running.

Frankie was there too….

They sensed my discomfort, providing “he wanted to come along”’s before I had said anything beyond hello’s.

I had to sit in the back with Frankie but he had vodka, so it was okay. Drinking was my forte during my junior and senior years of high school. I was always staying the weekends at biological billy’s house and he allowed me to bartend when all of his alcoholic and white-trashy friends came over to drink. His wife, Susan, and my step-mother I guess, were avid drinkers.
Sitting in the back with Frankie, he handed me the opened bottle of vodka. I took a hearty swig.

I don’t remember much else of the evening so I can only assume that I was shitfaced, or roofied. But I remember driving for a while, asking where the party was at, for I was under the impression they were taking me to a party before all the sexy stuff was going down, and a tacky Christmas light covered palm tree.

I remember super troopers playing on a TV nearby and shaking my head from side to side when they tried to kiss me, asking them not to.

I do not remember how I got home or how long I was there for.
I remember throwing up down my body in the shower and going to school drunk .
I couldn’t tell you how many hours had passed that day before the entire school had found out what had happened any easier than I could I tell you how many I’ve since spent wishing I had never told a soul.

I told Shannon, the woman I was a nanny for after school twice a week, what had happened. I had strategically tried to present it casually, as if it was something I had enjoyed or, at the very least, not deeply ashamed of.
She saw right through me, extreme concern and disappointment horrifyingly apparent.. She then presented me with one of the first and only ultimatums I have ever received from another human being; demanding that I tell my parents what had happened to me or she would call the police. She stood over my shoulder as I dialed my parents, telling them they had to come get me early and that we needed to talk about something.
They did, both of them- trying to get Shannon to tell them what had happened. She refused to, telling them they should hear it from me and that I wasn’t in trouble, nor was she mad at me, just concerned.

I tried to NOT tell my parents what had happened but Shannon kept her word- calling my parents later to ensure I had told them.
My dad called the police. I don’t think we spoke before they arrived.

They talked outside and then questioned me, in front of my parents and away from them.
They asked me if I had said no and I told them I hadn’t. They asked me if I had drank anything and I told them I hadn’t. It never occurred to me that you’re not supposed to lie to police officers, that it’s against the law.
To me, I had given my consent when I told Jared and James it was okay and when I arranged to leave my house with them.
I didn’t want to do it after I said I would and I really really didn’t want to do it after Frankie was in the picture, but I did it. To me, that is consent, regardless of the presence of alcohol. Even then, stupid and scared, I knew the potential consequences of my honesty and I chose to lie.

I’ve been lying about what happened that night ever since.

In the end, I didn’t really know anything about them and when I talked to the police, it was clear. They knew I wasn’t telling them everything the story just didn’t add up- 17 year old girl sneaking out to be gang-banged by three older guys whose last names she didn’t even know? That didn’t seem likely, but it was the truth they were given and it was enough. In the state of Florida, the ages of consent are 16-24, without parental needed. The age range I had guesstimated the three of them into and my refusal to admit the involvement of alcohol made the encounter slutty and disgusting, sure, but also perfectly legal.

The police left. My parents were flabbergasted. ‘I remember my dad hugging me. I don’t remember us ever talking about- outside of the scolding on my impulsive tendencies and tptal disregard for my own personal safety I received from my mom as she took me to gynecologist.

I had been bleeding for over two weeks, non-menstrually. Plus- she had insisted I get an STD test.

It’s good she did because I had HPV. The kind that gives you cancer, which I had pre-cells of.

Yep.

The second time I have sex in my life and I get HPV. My mom took me to Wendy’s, where I glumly ate chicken nuggets as she read the tri-folds of the HPV brochure he had given us.

I remember saying something along the lines of not wanting to treat it because I deserved to get cancer and my mom getting really mad at me. She
From her cell phone, she scheduled a time for me to have liquid nitrogen injected up to my cervix.

I called James to tell him about the HPV. He didn’t; sound surprised and he killed my own by disclosing that Frankie had taken his condom off during fucking me.

I have never hated someone more in my life than I did myself. I had zero sexual experience under my belt and had already acquired an STD, something that I genuinely believe only happens to people who are fucking retarded. USE A GODDAMN CONDOM, people. Jesus. Had I not been obliterated drunk- this never would have happened.

I wish I could say it was the last time I got so drunk that I fucked someone regrettably, unsafely, or immorally but my HPV was eliminated after two nitrogen sessions and a few pee streams filled with ice crystals and I learned virtually nothing from this experience.

I called James and told him what had happened.

He came over and we talked. I told him how I felt about the situation- how uncertain I had been and then scared when Frankie had been there and how I had gone through with it anyway but didn’t remember.
He seemed genuinely concerned and he seemed to like me so I had sex with him. I guess I was hoping I could get something else, ANYTHING else, out of that shitty month of my life. His penis was huge and upon seeing it soberly, the bleeding for two weeks after thing sort of began to make sense.

James and I had sex a few more times after that before I ended it. It felt weird. Me trying to have a relationship with any of them after the group sex part thing was regrettable and probably immensely damaging and deranged behavior.

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