Last summer, I worked as a canvasser. Canvassing is one of those jobs where all you do is eat, sleep, and work, so I didn't have time to see my friends. I quickly became friends with people at work, including the Assistant Director. When I told my stepmother that I thought the Assistant Director had a crush on me, she was thrilled. She told me I should take advantage of it, flirt with him a little bit, and see if I couldn't get anything out of it. But I was uncomfortable. Steve was my best friend at work, and I didn't want him to be anything more than that.
At the end of the summer, the Canvass Director hosted a dinner party for those of us who were still around. My parents were out of town, so I had nothing else to do. I went. I drank some hard cider. Then Beth and I drank a bottle of wine. Then we drank another. I don't really know what I drank after that. We were supposed to go to a different party afterwards, but by the time we were ready to go it was after 11 and I was in no state to drive. I asked Steve if I could crash at his apartment, and he said yes. That’s my last clear memory of the night.
I remember a little bit of the car ride back. We got to his apartment, and I sat down on his couch. He looked at me strangely, and said “You can sleep in the bed, if you want.” I got up and followed him to his bedroom. I lay down on his bed, fully clothed. He lay down behind me. The next thing I remember, we were spooning. Then we were talking, but I don’t remember anything we said. After that, the clearest memory I have is of friction; his beard, scraping against my chin, and then against the inside of my thighs. His body, rubbing against mine. After he had finished, I got up to go to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet, and looked down. Peeing hurt so much that I almost cried, and when I saw the red on the inside of my thighs I started to panic. I went back into his room and put my clothes on, and I left. While I was waiting for the uber, he came outside, and asked me if I would at least come inside and wait. I said no. It’s the only time that night I remember speaking to him. The uber driver kept offering me water, because I wouldn’t stop crying. I was still drunk, and I didn’t know where to go, so I had him take me to a friend’s apartment, the same friends whose party I was supposed to have attended. By the time I got there, it was 4 am and everyone was asleep. Victor answered the door, shirtless and half asleep. He stayed up all night with me, watching me cry and trying to get me to drink water.
The next day, I called my best friend at Tufts. The only thing I could think of to say was “Why does this keep happening to me?”