I was taken to only the second formal party I was ever, the first being the Prom. It was a charity affair for education.
I didn’t even have an appropriate dress, and rented one, and borrowed shoes, and a clutch. I looked great, but felt bought.
My good friend Jim looked excellent in his tux, and if he asked, I might have had trouble staying just friends.
I got into some basic party conversation, but I can’t imagine that I couldn’t have looked too young and out of place.
Somewhere, about halfway through the evening, my dashing date got in a fight, and they all got thrown out. I must have been in the ladies room, because I didn’t know anything about it. I didn’t get a call or text either.
A man I didn’t know who introduced himself as Carl, brought me a wine, and talked for a while, before asking me to dance.
I was having a good time, even ignoring his hands drifting down to my derriere. It was when he started playing with the folds of my neckline that I got uncomfortable. I told him to stop that, but further words came difficult.
He said it was hot, and I needed to get out for a little, and I agreed, and he led me to the hall, hand around my waist, and my head on his shoulder. I wanted him to take me to Jim, and he said he’d be happy to.
The elevator made no sense to me, since Jim must be at the party. Carl said he knew where to go.
I can’t say I know where we got off the elevator. Or what else convinced me.
When I awoke, I was naked, with my clothes on the floor. My clutch was on the table, and my phone and cash were untouched. As my head cleared, I could feel that I was not in the same condition.
I got a text left from Jim Where ARE you?
I answered I don’t KNOW?
I used the bathroom, and got dressed. I was feeling scared and even paranoid. I left the hotel, and walked a few blocks without bearings. It was late, and the streets were empty. I texted Jim a simple word.
He could find the intersection, and got me. He asked me where I was, and I thought that I never found out where, or if I was in the same hotel. I could have asked the desk who rented that room, if I noted the number.
Jim pointed out I was only 16, so that anything I did that night was.
It was nice to have that friend who knew what you did, so you didn’t have to have the heart to say it.
If I made a police report, my parents would know, and they were mad at Jim that he kept me out so late. He got yelled at when we got me home.
No one but us knew the mistakes I made. I got grounded for 2 weeks, which seems ironic given what I had to live with on my mistakes. I was supposed to think about what I did wrong during my punishment, and i did. It was bad, and I’m lucky it wasn’t worse.
I just can leave with that if i was beyond it all, I wouldn’t be writing here.
— Irena, age 20