A Weekend at the Lake

It was August 1.

I invited my friends to a celebratory drink as I had just spent my afternoon in court trying to get an Order of Protection against Christopher. The day didn’t go quite as I had hoped, and a drink was definitely needed. I invited all my close friends — the ones who had been there with me through everything: my roommate, my best friends, a few coworkers, and my friend Colby. While he joined us at the restaurant that evening to show his support, I really didn’t want him there.See, Christopher may have been the first monster I crossed paths with, but he won’t be the last. This next story diverges away from Christopher. It’s about Colby, another guy I was close with.Let’s back up to July. My friends wanted to help me get Christopher off my mind. I had just filed for the Order of Protection, and my mind was always racing. They definitely realized that. It was hard to take me anywhere in public. I’d turn my head anytime someone walked past me, fearing it was Christopher. Anytime a car drove down the street that resembled his, I would do a double take. It was all very exhausting. I felt mentally drained everyday. I’d be at my breaking point anytime I was in public for more than a few hours. I was always on the lookout for Christopher, making sure he wasn’t anywhere close to where I was. “You should come out to the lake with us,” Colby told me. A little intro on Colby — I knew him through Christopher, but when he found out about the abuse, he took “my side,” for lack of a better phrase. He was pretty good at checking in with me and understood when I had to cancel plans last minute because of my anxiety. He was a broken soul too, so I think, to an extent, he understood what I was going through.

Colby was pretty good at checking in with me and understood when I had to cancel plans last minute because of my anxiety. He was a broken soul too, so I think, to an extent, he understood what I was going through.

The lake sounded like a good idea. I would be a few hours away from Christopher, and I knew everyone did a heavy amount of drinking at the lake. It would be nice to let loose and not worry about Christopher showing up. I made my roommate pack her things and go with me. We were excited for a mini roadtrip together. We pulled up to Colby’s campsite where we knew a few of his other friends. We had a great time on the boat. The weather was excellent. This was the break I needed. My roommate wasn’t big on drinking, so when the sun set and all the alcohol came out, she disappeared to bed after one drink. Even though I wasn’t usually a heavy drinker, that summer I had picked up the bad habit of drinking away the pain. My friend Bryce was texting me. I was about five shots of rum into the night. Colby came up. We were partners in corn hole. After a while, we played cards with the other guys. It was a nice night. “Want me to pour you another drink?” Colby asked. I wasn’t about to say no. When he came back, I took a big drink. “This is all alcohol. I don’t even taste the Dr. Pepper,” I told him. He nodded, “Yea, that’s how we make drinks at the lake.”I laughed and took another gulp. I guess I didn’t realize how much I had been drinking, and, if I did, I didn’t care. I remember Bryce was texting me still. It made me smile. I missed hanging out with him. Drunk me definitely enjoyed talking to him. But a few texts in, my phone died, and then I blacked out.

I woke up to someone cuddling me and a pounding headache.

Who was lying next to me? Please, please let it be my roommate, I thought. I turned around. It was Colby. I instantly felt awkward and sick. But it got worse. I looked down and noticed I wasn’t wearing any of the clothes I had been in the night before. I had on a men’s pair of socks, some guy’s baggy basketball shorts, and a hoodie. I looked at the floor of the camper. There they were, my bright pink pair of underwear just lying there. I felt like hyperventilating. I covered my mouth with the comforter, so I wouldn’t wake anyone with my breathing, as the camper was full of Colby’s passed out friends. I trusted Colby. He knew about almost everything with Christopher. I chose to trust him with my new address and my new phone number even though he could turn on me in an instant and tell Christopher everything. If anything happened, this just proved he couldn’t respect me. I started shaking. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t want the other people in the camper to hear. What happened? Under no circumstances would I ever hook up with Colby, and he knew that, too. I felt so violated, so vulnerable. I felt like a fool for trusting him with things like my phone number when I was sure he had just violated my body. Did he see last night as his one chance? Did we have sex? God, not the idea of rape again. I couldn’t even bear thinking the word. I didn’t remember anything past my phone dying. Everyone else in the camper was still asleep. I moved away from Colby and sat up in the bed, arms crossed, stuck in my own head wondering what the fuck happened?Colby was the next one awake. He wanted to know why I wasn’t cuddling with him anymore. I didn’t want to bullshit. I had been taken advantage of enough this past year. He wasn’t getting away with whatever happened. “Why the fuck are my underwear on the floor? Colby, what happened last night?” A few tears rolled down my face. He tried wiping them away, and I turned my face. “You were so happy last night,” he said. “I haven’t seen you that happy in a long time.”The smile. I knew what the smile was about. He saw how happy I was texting Bryce. That was the only explanation that made sense. “That doesn’t explain anything, Colby.”“Well, after I saw you smile, I kissed you. You kissed me back. You smiled even bigger. Seriously, I have never seen you that happy since Christopher...” he trailed off.It’s like he didn’t realize what I was getting at. I needed answers, not some stupid backstory. I didn’t fucking care that I was smiling, because I felt like screaming and punching his face until my knuckles were raw. I wanted to throw up at the thought of anything happening with Colby. “Colby, what happened last night?” I asked again. “Well, I took you around the campsite, and you just seemed so happy to be with me. I think some of our friends were surprised. You were so happy. But you said you were sleepy, so I ended up dropping you off in the camper. You just looked so happy though, I couldn’t leave. I wanted to make sure you had your pajamas on though.”His story wasn’t making me feel any better. I wanted any excuse to get up and leave. I wanted to duck my head away and hide like a turtle in its shell. I wanted to hear what he was going to say next, but just hearing the word “happy” made me want to rip his tongue from his mouth. He continued his story. He acknowledged that he knew he gave me too much to drink. But then he started talking about how once he got me back to the camper, I was “just too pretty.”“But these aren’t my pajamas. What happened?” I asked in a firmer voice. “I don’t want to make you upset but just know that you seemed so happy.”He refused to tell me what happened. He just let me know that stuff did happen. Then he started guilt tripping me — saying how he was such a bad friend, how could I ever forgive him? All he wanted to do was make me happy, and he’s so good at ruining friendships. Everyone else in the camper started waking up, which put an awkward end to our conversation. To put off getting out of bed, the rest of the guys started playing YouTube videos. Everyone else was laughing, and all I wanted to do was walk into that lake and drown. I laughed along with everyone else, but that bright pink pair of underwear was still there reminding me of what I didn’t know. I prayed no one else saw them. Eventually one of the guys decided we should drive into the city for breakfast. I was stuck sitting in the back of the truck with Colby and my roommate. I played along with the guys’ jokes. Anytime I looked even a little bit out of it, Colby would whisper in my ear, “You know I was just trying to make you happy.”I wanted to scream you knew I was blackout drunk, you fucking asshole. I would never consent to this. But anytime I even thought about screaming at him, I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. I had to keep it together. After breakfast, Colby and my other friend begged me to stay. It would be another great day at the lake, they said. I got in my car and waved a normal good bye. “Another weekend,” I said. “I have errands to run before work tomorrow.”As I pulled away from the lake, the storm clouds began rolling in. Rain fell gently at first and then started pouring from the sky. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My tears were just as furious as the rain falling outside. The storm came out of nowhere, totally unexpected. When I got home and charged my phone, I had a few texts from Colby. He didn’t apologize. Just started going off about how he wasn’t a good friend. He wouldn’t leave me alone. “Let’s just agree to never bring it up again, okay?” I told him. He thought that was a great idea. It took me three months to finally block Colby out of my life. I kept inviting him out, making sure everything seemed normal. I made excuses for him. So did a lot of my friends. He’s lonely. He has good intentions. He’s been so heartbroken over his ex. And all I wanted to throw into the mix was, “Well, he’s also a rapist now too.”