Finding parking was literal hell. It was the weekend, so of course it was hell, in defense. I managed to find a spot about twenty minutes away from the area we wanted to start in, so we all agreed to stop in at any shops we went past on our way.

I fiddled with the straps on my leather backpack, mostly out of anxiety. I didn't mind the big city, but I did mind the fact that the four of us were walking through the bustling streets in the more dangerous area of downtown. Parking is so horrid that we had to park that far back, and I never liked walking in this area. Ten murders and five rapes have occurred here in the last year, right in this goddamn area, and yet here I am walking with them. The homeless here were violent, almost as much as the gangs that constantly get into shootouts, or get pissed at an innocent bystander and kill them if their drug deal goes wrong or something. The nastier side of bars also contained the worst of the drinkers. This is how most of the rapes occurred — drunk, angry, bitter men attacking a woman.

My stomach churned, and I realized I was working myself up into a slight frenzy. I licked my dry lips and raked my fingers through my hair, heart racing against my chest. Olivia seemed to notice my anxiety first, and she stopped walking, turning tone. Arnie and Delia stopped too, turning to peer at us. "Hey, what's wrong?" Olivia asked softly, her hands spreading warmth through mine as our skin touched. "Violet?"

I breathed out and tried to focus on her hands rather than the embarrassment and slight fear that shook me to the very core of my being. "I-it's nothing. I just don't like this part of town."

Arnie paused, looking around, and then swallowed. "Oh, sh*t, Vi, I didn't realize—"

"It's not your fault. I didn't either," I quickly intercepted, shaking my head rapidly and swallowing. "I was just looking for a spot. Didn't really realize where we were until now."

Delia's frowned deepened, struggling to keep up with Arnie and I. Olivia had the same confused expression across her face. "What are you talking about?" Delia asked slowly.

Arnie parted her lips, then purses them again and looked down.

"You can tell them," I told Arnie, leaning into Olivia as her arms snake around me as if sensing my need for comfort. My cheek buried into her chest, my eyes closing as I tried to forget where we were. We started walking again, this time quicker.

"Last year, Violet started seeing this guy. He was really sweet to her, never pushed her buttons and was the kinda guy you'd think would bring flowers and kiss the cheek every day." Arnie's voice was bitter, a squeak making its way into her octave. She had a tendency to "squeak" when her anger increased, that was her straining to keep herself from yelling. "He seemed like the perfect fu*king package. Blonde haired, green-eyed, ruggedly handsome," she spat.

Arnie contained herself with deep breaths before continuing as we walked. Olivia's arms squeezed me closer, tense as she sensed Arnie's tone. "He worked at one of the bars down here, I can't remember which one," she added, sounding upset by the fact, "and one day wanted to show how cool it was. It wasn't fu*king cool at all. The men and women were assholes, the bar was unclean, and he abandoned her. She wanted to leave after being touched so much, and by that time the asshat was drunk. She managed to convince him to take her home. He felt angry she took him away from his fun so he demanded she give him compensation."

I stiffened against Olivia, who buried her face in my hair, breathing shakily into my head. It hurt to hear the story, but Olivia and Delia needed to understand why my desire to stay away from this part of the city was so intense I had panic attacks.

"What did he do?" Delia demanded.

"I think you know what he did." Arnie's voice was level at this point, but when it lacked any emotion or expression, it was dangerous. Very dangerous. "It's not hard to figure out what the fu*ker wanted from her as "compensation"."

"Oh, Violet," Olivia whispered into my hairline, her hands rubbing my arms up and down.

"Don't feel sorry for me. I hate that," I muttered to Olivia, hoping to God that I managed to sound somewhat sure of myself that I wouldn't break in her hands. "It was over a year ago, anyway."

"But that doesn't make it any easier, love."

I don't want to be looked at like a porcelain doll. I didn't want to be touched as if I could crack and shatter under the hands of who held me. I wanted to be treated normally, because the damage had been done and I had recovered. The nightmares had lessened and the anxiety attacks had become less apart of me.

Delia sounded angry when she spoke, "Did he get away with this bullsh*t?"

"Yes. Violet didn't press charges." I winced at the confession Arnie made for me. I didn't press charges because I was terrified he wouldn't get charged, he'd get off scot free, and he'd hurt me again.

Delia was silent, but I felt her anger boiling from where Olivia had me wrapped in her embrace of warmth and sadness.

"Let me see her." Olivia hesitated but released me from the embrace. I glanced around and noted that we had managed to enter a less dangerous area, where the students from my college were roaming about and shops and restaurants were full.

Delia walked closer to me and I met her gaze steadily, wanting her to see I wasn't delicate. Sure, talking about it was stressful and hard, but it didn't break me.

She locked gazes with me and said, "Violet, if I ever see this asshole I won't be able to promise you he won't walk away without being ripped an entire new —"

"I get it." I winced at the thought of her detailed torture. "Thank you for the . . . Er, kindness." I offered her a weak smile.

She studied me before offering me the slightest smiles back and then glancing around. "So where are we eating?"

We decided that the smell of a barbecue place was too strong and intoxicating to pass up. We had to wait for like, an hour, but we spent the duration of that time talking about classes and personal lives.

I figured out that Olivia has a dog by the name of Charlie, a golden retriever, who is the man of her house [ her apartment ]. She likes the color blue, her favorite television show is I Love Lucy [ an old classic that I myself like watching from time to time ], and Grey's Anatomy. Delia claimed that she designed most of her tattoos, revealed she enjoyed art more than she enjoyed the company of human interaction, and that she enjoyed bands like the Arctic Monkeys.

I told them a bit about my interests, like how I used play tennis and softball, a fact that Delia smirked at and made an innuendo about. I also described my mom's strange jobs that always, in one way or another, involve animals. Such as the hamster portraits, the dog sitting that required music to help relax their brain muscles, and her most recent, the cat therapist. Olivia and Delia both got a laugh out of this, and I found myself enjoying their company. Arnie was also very determined to tell embarrassing stories about me.

As we sat at the table now, looking through our menus, Delia laughed at Arnie's story of how I had to hide my lacy underwear from my parents whenever we visited them. I blushed and said, "Why are you telling them about my underwear, Arnie?"

Delia gave me a seductive smile, reaching over and caressing my knee. It sent tingles through my body, surprising me at the same time as sending me into a daze. "I like hearing about your underwear, Violet. Maybe you can show me sometime. I bet they're . . . " she trailed her hand to my thigh, agonizingly slow, and purred, ". . . Cute. Even, perhaps, dare I say, sexy?" She wriggled her brows.

Arnie made a gagging noise and Olivia grimaced. "Delia, you're going to scare the poor thing away," she said firmly. "Stop groping her. Bad creature."

Delia raised her brow as she released my thigh and bent toward Olivia. "What are you jealous? There's enough of me to go around, baby," she drawled, smirking at Olivia. "Besides, Violet looks just fine to me."

"Mm." I murmured, still in shock. The touch . . . It felt good. Sure, many of my exes have groped and touched, but to me it was all muscle memory. I wasn't really someone who responded to touch in a way that others would. It's why I had no sex life. Who touches me and provides a response from me is based on the response of my body.

Delia and Olivia both had my body responding to their touches. Whether it be gentle and comforting, or flirtatious and playful.

Olivia narrowed her eyes and shut the menu. "I'm not jealous of anything." She forced my gaze to lock with hers and she smiled at me. "I'm just saving her from your advances."

Delia smiled and shook her head. "She's not a girl who needs saving, Olivia."

Are you sure about that? Because not even I am sure anymore. Not sure at all.

[/\]

After we ate, we explored the streets a while. The sun had dipped below the skyline almost completely, leaving a soft yellow and orange collision of color in the dappled sky.

My eyes began to drop, and the cold of the air started to surround me and chill me. Goosebumps began to greet me on my arms, and I rapidly moved my hands up and down to generate any sort of heat available.

"Even with your jacket you're cold." The blue-haired beauty walked closer to me and spread her arm around me. She was warm, just like Olivia and Arnie. How is it that those asses generated a bunch of heat but I was left with cold? Is life truly so cruel?

I found myself beginning to lean into her embrace, but I felt eyes on me. I turned my gaze to Olivia and Arnie. Arnie was ranting to Olivia about something I can't even identify at this point, and Olivia, who had been listening with quiet patience and soft amusement, was now turning her attention to me. Gone was the patience and amusement, now she stared at me and Delia with an intensity that I can't really describe.

She looked like she wanted to make a comment, but she reluctantly kept her lips sealed so she wouldn't interrupt Arnie. I was noticing this behavior with Olivia a lot. She allowed others to have their voice before she used hers. I liked that about her.

"You okay?" Delia's question pulled me from my thoughts and I turned my chin and smiled a bit at her. She returned the smile almost instantly, her eyes sparkling.

"I'm okay," I assured, fading more into her warmth. She squeezed my shoulder and I could see her smile even in the darkening surroundings.

"Hey, so I was wondering —"

"Violet?"

I stiffened in my walk, and so did Arnie. Delia stopped when I did, jerking slightly at my sudden freeze. Olivia paused and turned, raising a brow at us. That voice . . .

Panic and bile began to claw at my chest and throat, the realization of who was standing mere feet behind me with nowhere for me to go enveloping me in a dark hold.

Arnie's face contorted in rage and she turned around. I refused to do so, however, and Delia took notice of my rising panic and my anxiety spike. Her arms suddenly pushed me behind her and she said, "Who's asking?"

Arnie said quietly, "You have some fu*king nerve, you know." She sounded deadly, her voice barely holding back the rage I saw on her face.

I needed to get out of here. I was trapped. The world started spinning and my stomach felt twisted into bows. My breathing became shallow and came in gasps, fighting for the next drink of air my lungs so desired. Olivia was at my side in seconds. "Violet?"

Stop! Space! I wanted to plead, but instead her arms found their way around me as if to protect me from whatever it was bothering me.

"I just want to talk to her . . ." My lungs collapsed when the male spoke again, and I choked on air. I needed to get out of here, far, far away from him as humanely possible.

"Talk to her?" Arnie let out a sickly amused laugh. "You piece of abusive sh*t. You have no right after what you did to her."

"Is this the asshole that you told us about, Arnie?" Delia asked in a low voice.

"Yes, that's him."

I whimpered and Olivia gently shushed me, burying her face in my hair. She began to whisper, "Focus on me, okay? He can't touch you. We won't allow it. I won't allow it. You're okay, pretty girl, you're okay."

"Listen, she never gave me the chance to apologize and explain myself —"

"Explain yourself?" Delia spluttered, sounding truly shocked. "Are you kidding, bro? You raped her. How the fu*k can you explain that bullsh*t?" she snarled.

"Delia, don't. We don't need a fight tonight," Arnie said, releasing a breath. "We need to get Letty out of this place."

"Please," he pleaded. He sounded closer. No, no, no. Don't let him get closer! My anxiety rose.

"Get back, you conceited ass!" Delia commanded. I heard a grunt and the scrape of shoes against pavement.

"What the hell?" he growled.

"Don't you ever come near her again," Delia said in a dark voice. "Get the hell out of here before we call the cops."

"Violet, I have to talk to you." He was speaking to me now. He hesitated before adding, "Call me okay? Or I'll come over."

Nothing. Silence. Was he gone? Arnie said he was, but I couldn't even focus on that.

My head was spinning, and suddenly, I vomited my dinner onto the sidewalk.