2. Assault

2. Assault

I hadn't intended to rise especially early, but I was more than a little tipsy when I'd gone to bed. Far from blind drunk, but enough to mess up my sleeping. When I woke at six-thirty, I couldn't get back to sleep, so I started washing clothes, showered, brewed coffee, and started the webcam early, surprised to see Cici appear just after seven, well before sunrise. The image was still in its monochromatic night vision mode.

Me: "You had trouble sleeping too?"
Cici: "Lots of parties. I kept being woken up. Finally gave up. Green is peaceful at least."

Brooke was concerned about Cici's crush, and to be fair, I was too, but not for quite the same reason. I liked her, too. I didn't want her liking for me to get her in trouble, but I would hate for her to stop liking me. I wished we weren't so far apart that we couldn't meet to see if we might want to spend more time together.

The loud thunk the washer made when the door unlocked prompted me to move my clothes into the dryer. I thought about ways we'd maybe be able to get to know each other better. Christmas was coming up. Maybe she'd be home. Maybe I could take her out somewhere. But she was twenty, and since meeting her at O'Neill's, I'd turned twenty-six. Six years difference from, say, twenty-six to thirty-two wouldn't give me pause, but twenty to twenty-six was much more significant. With Cici still being a student and me only graduating high school, we were living very different lives.

And I hadn't been in a relationship as such since I was twenty-three. My fling with Cade was the closest I'd been to one since then, and she and I had great chemistry between the sheets - and on other furniture and household appliances - but we were never looking for more, and parted with no regrets. I couldn't see myself having that kind of liaison with Cici, who was sweet, intelligent, pretty, and so much younger than me. It would make me a predator. And she'd already had one painful breakup this year.

I didn't know what I wanted, and didn't see how Cici and Sam was a pairing that could happen. I didn't want to lead her on.

I was still pondering the dilemma after I'd transferred my clothes to the dryer and moved back to the living room, where I walked into my soap opera turning into a horror show.

The video had enough light to show color now. Three young men had surrounded Cici. She was standing, and two of the men had their hands on her arms. It looked like they'd dragged her upright. She looked terrified. I hit the hotkey to start recording video, then watched the real-life drama unfold. I was scared. I swiped my phone on, but didn't call, wondering if her phone ringing would make Cici's situation worse.

Should I call the cops? I couldn't call 911, because I wasn't local. Finding the right police department could take minutes that Cici didn't have.

The man on Cici's left released her arm to loop a scarf over her mouth. She managed to raise her left arm, struggling with the scarf. She must have screamed, because the central assailant raised his hand to her mouth. He closed in, blocking my view, and I knew that I had to call her. I didn't know if that would help, but I could hardly make her situation worse.

I stabbed her icon on my phone. My heart raced as time stretched, my friend struggling with her attackers, before I heard a ringtone.

Cici's left hand immediately dropped from her neck, where she was still attempting to fend off the gag, to her pocket. With great presence of mind she left her hand in her pocket, not drawing out the phone where it could have been snatched.

The call connected with a click. The attacker on Cici's left grabbed at her arm, while over the phone I heard a deep yell. The central figure's hand snapped back from Cici's face. I heard her muffled voice. "Sam! Campus cops! I'm at..."

A male voice yelled, "Bitch!" On the video, I saw the central man's hand rocket back to Cici's face. She began to crumple before the sickening slap-crack sound, delayed by the cell connection, reached my ear. I watched in horror as she collapsed to the ground, not attempting to interrupt her fall, landing hard on her right side.

I could still hear voices through the cell. I needed to call the cops, like Cici had asked, but I also needed to know what was going on. I decided to wait a few seconds and hoped I wasn't making a mistake.

"Fucking Mexican slut."

"Man, you fucking killed her."

Sick, icy fear welled up in me at those words.

"I didn't hit her that hard. She just bounced off the tree."

"She's breathing." That voice was clear. The man that had been on Cici's right had squatted down to look at her, making him closer to the phone in her pocket. I felt some relief, but she was likely still in medical danger, in addition to the danger from her attackers.

"We could still use her." There was a rustling sound on the phone. I saw that he'd unfastened Cici's jacket, and had slid his hand inside. I felt like throwing up. "Easy to get her behind the building now. We could help her wake up."

"Man, you're sick."

"Don't be a fucking moron. She's told someone. The cops will look."

"We need to get the fuck out of here."

The guy who had punched Cici grabbed the one who'd been fondling her, tossing him to the ground.

"Fuck."

The one now on the ground rose unsteadily to his feet. All three looked around, then jogged away, leaving my friend a motionless lump on the ground. Time to hang up and report the emergency.

I tabbed out of the browser window. I didn't know if my recording would continue, but the view was static now. Since I wasn't local, calling 911 wouldn't work, but Googling campus police gave me a number that answered immediately. The dispatcher was clearly dubious about me reporting violence from the other end of the state, but she recognized my description of the location and had police and paramedics on the way while she quizzed me.

"I have a video of it," I said. "I recorded the webcam. Can I email it to you? Oh! I just saw her move! She looks badly hurt, but she doesn't seem to be unconscious now."

Maybe the relief in my voice convinced the dispatcher that this wasn't a prank. A moment later I saw flashing lights. "Looks like they just arrived," I said.

"I know," the woman replied, now with no trace of skepticism. She gave me an email address for the video, double-checked my contact number, and let me go.

My body buzzed with fear and anger. I stood before the notebook until my breathing was less chaotic and the shaking of my hands stilled enough to use my phone again. I stopped recording the screen, then called the salon. As soon as Elaine understood the situation, she'd told me that they'd cover for me, and let clients know I'd had a family emergency. She knew about Cici from the day Brooke had visited, and she'd probably overheard me talking with Phil many times.

Next I called Brooke. The call went to voicemail, so I texted her, fighting with the tiny keyboard and autocorrect the whole time. "Cici has been attacked. Please call." Not subtle, but I wanted her to contact me as soon as possible.

My phone rang within seconds. "What the fuck, Sam?"

"I saw Cici being assaulted on the webcam." My voice was still unsteady. "She scared them off when I called, but she's injured. I'm watching paramedics check her out. I think she's trying to sit up now, but they're stopping her. Give me an email address to send you the video."

She did that, and I sent the capture to her and to the police address.

"I'm driving out there," Brooke said. "You coming with?"

I was surprised she'd asked, and just as surprised at the immediacy of my answer. "Yes. I need to call Elaine, but yes. Do you have Cici's roommate's number?"

"Check," she replied. "We'll call her on the way."

The paramedics were taking Cici away on a stretcher. I winced at the sight, but she had to have a concussion, whatever else had happened. I wondered if I should feel guilty, since my call precipitated the punch, but I knew what the assholes had planned for her.

There were other students gathering on the green now, watching the cops, who'd taped off a small area. The lights of the ambulance faded, but I still saw reflections of emergency lights from the police vehicle.

I texted Brooke my address. Twenty minutes later, she texted that she was on her way.

Me: "Will be ready when you get here. Elaine will handle rescheduling today and tomorrow. Sun and Mon I'm off, so I'd like to get back by Tuesday."
Brooke: "Primed roommate Liz. She was shocked. She will go to hospital in half hour to monitor."

 

I threw together clothes for a couple of days. I didn't know how long we'd be. Elaine wasn't expecting me until Tuesday, but I didn't know when Brooke would return. If Brooke needed to stay with Cici I could always fly back on Monday.

Brooke arrived, wearing the tortoiseshell glasses I'd seen the first time she'd appeared on my video feed. I tossed the small suitcase and my laptop bag into her car, then buckled myself in. "I don't know what we're doing," I said, "but we're doing something, which is good."

"Right," Brooke agreed. "Emergency trip or not, I need coffee."

"Me too," I agreed.

I handed her my credit card when we were in line at Starbucks. "You're driving, I'm paying," I said. "Can we split gas costs?"

Brooke shrugged, then shook her head. "I'll take the coffee, but no split. I'm going anyway. It doesn't cost any more to bring a friend. You can share motel costs. Separate beds."

"Right," I said, with a grin. The first I'd managed since the assault. Then I felt guilty for finding any humor at all.

About fifty miles out, Brooke got a call. She hit answer on her auto app. Liz's name popped up.

The hands-free setting made Liz's voice clear to me in the passenger seat. "I found her, Brooke," she said, without fanfare. "She's in the ER. She bruised her arm but didn't break it. Her wrist is pretty badly sprained, but she won't need surgery. Her head's more serious. Her jaw is badly bruised and they're cleaning and stitching her scalp, since the back of her head slammed against the tree and dragged along the bark. They're going to have to keep her overnight for observation. They're still looking at X-rays. I'm going to take some clothes and her spare glasses to her, and stay with her. Cops want to keep her clothing for a few days, and her glasses may not be repairable."

"Thanks, Liz," Brooke said. "If you see her, tell her we're on the way, and that I love her and will do anything I can to support her."

"Who's 'we'?" Liz asked.

"Sam's with me. Samara," Brooke said.

"Sam the stalker?" Liz asked.

"Hi Liz," I piped up. "I guess she's mentioned me."

"Uh, yeah, once or twice," Liz said. "I think she'll be pleased to see you both."

"Would you like to take a break from driving now we know she's not critical?"

She gave that a moment's thought. "Yeah. I'd like to make some calls."

 

I remained nervous about Cici's condition, but less so than before hearing from Liz. After we'd traded places, Brooke hooked my phone to the navigation app so she'd have hers for making calls.

Overhearing some of Brooke's conversations, I figured out that she was contacting support groups and getting recommendations for lawyers. I didn't ask for details. Those were for her to share with Cici.

Eventually she wrote down some comments in a tiny notebook from her purse, cursing me good-naturedly for finding all the bumps on the freeway. After closing the notebook and returning it to her purse, she picked up her coffee and leaned back.

A little while later my phone rang through the vehicle system. The caller name showed campus police. I wasn't familiar with the app's interface, so Brooke pressed the answer button for me.

A female voice introduced itself as Detective Meakin, assigned to investigate the assault of Alicia Reyes. She asked me to identify myself fully, which I did.

"When can you make yourself available for an online interview?"

"I'm driving to see her right now," I replied, "with Cici - with Alicia's friend. I could be there in person, if that's easier."

"It would be," she agreed. "When can you be here?"

I glanced at the navigation app. "Looks like about three-thirty?" Brooke nodded agreement. "I'm not familiar with traffic, so I don't know how accurate that is."

"Okay." She gave me directions to her office. "Ask for Detective Meakin."

 

Traffic was light on the freeway. I'd want to trade back driving responsibility with Brooke before we were too close to the city. I didn't want to be driving her car through the heavy traffic we'd probably find there.

"So, Liz has heard of you," Brooke said, after a few minutes. "I thought Cici only talked to me about you."

"I've tried to keep your warnings in mind, Brooke," I said. My tone was apprehensive. "She's so sweet and hopeful I just can't help flirting back. I... I'd like to get to know her, and I'm conflicted because I know that I'm wrong for her. Right now though, all I care about is the same goal that I'm sure you have. Helping her get back on her feet.

"Why do you say you're wrong for her?" Brooke asked. There didn't sound to be any judgement in her tone. When I glanced across, her expression was neutral.

"She's a supergenius, she said it herself!" I said, with a smile. Continuing more soberly, I said, "She's a college senior. I work in a salon. I was only ever good at literature and history, which wouldn't get me a job, so I never even considered college. She's not yet drinking age, but I'm twenty-six. If she ever introduces me to her mom she's going to be cut off without even needing to come out to her. She's hundreds of miles from me. I couldn't afford airfares, and I don't think my car would make it over the mountains."

"She really is a super genius," Brooke said, with a brief glance at me, "but she may be the least arrogant smart person I know. She loved the way my hair looked after my appointment. She gushed about how great it would be to see the smile on clients' faces when you can bring them immediate positive change. She's immature in some ways, but she has very firm ideas of what she can and will do, and she usually gets her way. I think she sees your differences as complementary, not incompatibility, and certainly not greater or lesser."

"You sound like you think we'd be good together. Did you change your mind?"

"I think she thinks you'd be good together, and she rarely makes mistakes. Aubrey was a mistake that she's learned from. She's shy and a little naive, but I think you're good for her, and she likes you. And I think she might need both of us for a time."

"All of the other problems are real," I said. "I could only see her long-distance, and her mom would throw a fit."

"She has to deal with her mom sooner, not later," Brooke said. "Your presence in her life won't change that. And has she told you she wants to move back for grad school?"

I felt a sudden thrill. She wasn't going to be hundreds of miles away. "No, she hasn't," I said, carefully. "We haven't talked about anything like that. We haven't talked much at all, honestly. Our conversations tend to be one text message from me and a wave from her, except on rainy days."

Brooke chuckled. "And she's conveniently in a rainy city. Maybe you don't realize just how much she's drawn you in."

"Well, shit," I said, with an ironic half-grin. "I guess we've established that she's smart. Maybe sneaky, too."

"All I'm saying is tread carefully, but don't dismiss the possibility that there could be something between you, and it isn't necessarily bad. Of course, if you hurt her, I'll have to kill you, and I'm sure Cici can help with any number of untraceable poisons."

She was completely deadpan when she delivered the threat, and there may have been a touch of nervousness in my laugh. "Is that what she's studying? I asked. "Poisons?"

"Pharmacology," Brooke said. "She wants to research human systems. She'll do it, too. Are you single?"

The question came out of nowhere. Brooke might make a good interrogator. "Yes," I said, automatically. "I've been single for about three years. I haven't been celibate that whole time, if that's an issue, but I'm not seeing anyone now. I don't think I could right now, because I know that it would disappoint Cici."

"More than disappoint, I think," Brooke said.

I nodded. "Which reminds me. I was going to catch up with an old friend tonight. I need to text her my apologies."

"You want me to take over again?"

"Sure. I'd prefer not to be responsible for your fancy car in city traffic."

 

Me: "Hey, want to cover for me this evening, too?"
Phil: "???"
Me: "I'm supposed to be meeting a friend at the Lion. I hate to abandon her, we haven't seen each other for a while."
Phil: "What's in it for me?"
Me: "She's an ex?"
Phil: "Juicy! Yes!"
Me: "I'll give her your number. If she doesn't contact you don't sweat it."

Me: "Hey! Something came up, I'm going to have to bail 🙁. Friend got hurt and I'm driving out of town to see her. I found a stand-in if you want to go to the Lion & we can get together later if that works for you."
Cade: "Who's that?"
Me: "Phil. You might have seen him with me last night. Black Spike Spiegel."
Cade: "Oh yeah. You warned him he isn't my type?"
Me: "Phil makes a great wingwoman, and you can wingman for him."
Cade: "Speaking from experience?"
Me: "A lady never tells. But, yes. I still want to catch up soon. Text Phil if you want. I think you'd enjoy his company. If not, no harm, no foul."

I added Phil's phone number and pressed send again.

"Okay, that's done," I announced. "What's our ETA now?"

"Still looks like about 3:30, before the worst of the traffic," Brooke replied. "I'll drop you with the cops, then head to the hospital unless Liz calls. You'll need to get an Uber. It doesn't look like they'll let her leave today, so we'll play it by ear."

"Who will pay for her hospitalization?"

"According to the lawyer I spoke to earlier, it will be the state Crime Victims' Compensation program. She'll probably have forms to fill out in the ER before they let her leave."

"OK," I said. "We can help her with that."

"Maybe the college insurance will be liable, in which case they'll refund the victims program," Brooke said. "Same if she files a civil suit against the attackers, if they can be found. The school probably isn't at fault, as long as they take the assault seriously, and don't give the perpetrators special treatment. She said the school's very good about that, and the cops are hardasses when it comes to sexual assault. If they can prove it's SA. The guy grabbing her tits in your video is strong evidence. But that means no insurance, so suing the perpetrators would be the way to go. She'll make time for Cici if she wants to go that route, and I'm going to recommend she does. Someone needs to compensate Cici, beyond just paying medical bills, and if it won't be the school, it will be the guys who hurt her."

"Hey, Brooke?" I said. "What kind of work do you do?"

She glanced at me with a quick grin. "Business software consulting," she said, "but Bryan is a paralegal. I called him. His firm's in corporate law, not injury, but he checked with his boss for recommendations. Do me a favor?"

"What's that?"

"Don't let me steamroll Cici," she said, sounding entirely serious. "I know what I think she should do, but I haven't even seen her yet, and I don't want my outrage to override what's best for her. Though Cee isn't as easy to manipulate as you might think."

"You turned out to be a strange temptress, Delilah," I said. "You're not supposed to be a sympathetic character."

 

It was raining when we arrived at the campus police offices. I hadn't brought an umbrella, so I dashed inside before Brooke left, then waited nervously in the cold reception area until Detective Meakin called for me.

Her first questions echoed the early skepticism of the dispatcher. I was tense, and she made no attempt to put me at my ease. I gave her a brief summary of my coincidental meeting with the woman I'd seen briefly on the webcam, and how that had led to my friendship with Cici. I described setting up the screen capture, while omitting mentioning Cici flashing me, which had motivated the activity. I showed her on my phone the video I'd sent Cici the previous day, Halloween. That seemed to convince her that there was no purpose to my video gathering other than friendly viewing.

She asked me to recount the events. I did. Seeing Cici being threatened, though I could only assume the attackers had dragged her to her feet. Starting the screen grab. Seeing the attempt to gag Cici. My decision to call, her words, then the punch to the face and Cici's collapse. My choice to wait a moment before calling the cops, and what I heard. She quizzed me about that in detail.

For my part, I asked the detective if she could get footage directly from the webcam. She grimaced.

"It was an old student project," she said. "It was never used for surveillance. It has no storage."

It was almost six when she let me leave. I called Brooke.

"I'm finally done. I'll get a Lyft to you, but I wanted to know how she is."

"Hold on..."

"Hey Samara." I recognized Cici's voice, weak and hoarse though it was.

"I'm so glad to hear you, Cici. How are you?"

"Better than I would have been if you hadn't been stalking me," she said. "No, not yet!" Her voice was even more muted, as if she'd turned away from the phone, then, "Brooke's taking the phone back. She says I'll see you soon."

"You will," I said.

"Don't get a ride," came Brooke's voice. "Liz is going to collect you."

"Okay. Give her my number. I'll be inside the station staying dry."

 

I felt disconnected as I waited for Liz. I stood outside most of the time, since the entryway was sheltered. I wasn't used to constant rain. The air smelled different. Maybe it was different vegetation, or because of the rain, or the much larger city around me. I was isolated, hundreds of miles from home, not able to see the person I was here to support. I'd voluntarily been to the cops. Everything seemed upside down.

The rain intensified until not even the shelter kept me dry, so I moved back inside until I saw what looked like a student vehicle pull up. As soon as Liz's text arrived I ducked my head and ran out to the car, not looking up to see her until I was dripping on her passenger seat. She was a short redhead, and her car was about as run-down as mine.

"Hi, I'm Sam," I said, as I fastened my seatbelt.

"I'm Liz. I thought you'd be taller," she said.

I tested the belt, then gave her a confused look. "I'm five-eleven. Why would I need to be taller?"

Liz laughed. "It's the traditional way to greet superheroes."

"Oh my God, what? I think Cici's been spreading rumors about me."

Liz glanced over at me before driving away. "One of the cops was here earlier. She told us about the video you sent, and Cici told me about you making the call that sent them running. Superhero. Should be taller."

"That call also got Cici's lights punched out," I said, with a scowl. "She could have been killed."

"I think we know what they'd have done if you hadn't interrupted them."

"Oh, yeah," I said, "they even talked about it."

"God, yeah, you did the right thing." After a moment, she added, "Oh, I offered to collect you to give Cici and Brooke some time to talk. Though I don't know how much of an opportunity they'll get, since there are nurses in and out all the time. They don't want Cici moving."

"Will she be able to get back to her studies?"

"Not for several days. Maybe a week or more. It will drive her crazy. But her professors will make allowances and she'll have online access to all her material. She might even study online for a while. I'll do what I can to support her."

"Thanks, Liz," I said. "Seems like she's in good hands."

 

Cici looked - bedraggled, for want of a better word. Downcast and untidy. She was lying back in her hospital bed. Her lovely ringlets were a mess. Part of that might be from her mistreating them for Halloween, but the new unevenness was due to a shaved strip where her scalp had been stitched.

Her right arm was in a sling; her forearm wrapped in a bandage that continued around her thumb, holding her wrist immobile. There was a gauze pad taped to the right side of her nose. When we entered, she was holding Brooke's hand with her uninjured left hand, but she released her to take my hand.

"Thank you for coming, Samara," she said. "Me salvaste. Ojalá pudiera abrazarte. I wish I could hug you. I'm so glad I have a stalker."

"So am I, sweetie," I said.

She twined her fingers into mine, then drew my hand down to rest on her belly. "I'm lucky you weren't spending the morning frolicking with the naked fairy," she said.

Liz and Brooke were both watching us curiously. In Brooke's case I would say there was some suspicion in her glare.

I raised my left hand to count on my fingers, since I wasn't about to take my right from hers. "Okay. One," I said, extending my first finger, "I wasn't frolicking, I was dancing. Though the last I saw of my friend Cade, she was trying to find her for some in-depth frolicking. Two," I raised my second finger. "She only appeared to be nearly naked. You saw the green string bra and thong, but I assure you that she was completely covered in a bodysuit made of pixie dust."

"Transparent pixie dust," said Cici.

"Of course. It was high quality," I said, with a meaningful nod. "Transparent and perfectly skin tight. And third," waggling the appropriate finger, "pixie, not fairy. Disney thought she was a fairy, but he was wrong. She lives in Pixie Hollow. She flies with pixie dust. She can grow old. She's a pixie."

Cici had a smile on her face by the end. "Thank you," she whispered. Her expression looked more relaxed than it had since Liz and I arrived, and a moment later she drifted off to sleep, still holding my hand.

A few minutes later, a nurse bustled in to check the machines that Cici was attached to. She frowned when she saw how many of us were circling the bed.

"Why don't we go out to eat?" asked Liz. "Then I'll head home so we're not crowding the staff."

Glancing down at where Cici's hand was firmly holding mine in place, I said, "I should probably stay. Could you bring me something back?" I turned to the nurse. "Would that be okay?"

The woman seemed irritated to be pulled from her note taking, but her expression softened immediately. "That's fine. You can bring outside food for Alicia, too, if you want, but her jaw is going to hurt, so it can't be anything heavy or hard to chew."

"Fish and chips?" suggested Brooke.

"That should be fine," she said. Then, to me, "Do you want the chair?"

"If it wouldn't be in the way, sure."

Brooke moved the chair up behind me. I settled into it without having to free my hand.

Liz and Brooke left. A moment later the nurse closed her tablet. "This is the most relaxed I've seen her. Are you her girlfriend?"

I shook my head. "No, but I think Cici hopes I will be. Maybe I do, too."

 

Cici woke before the others returned. I was playing a game on my phone, very badly, since I was using my left hand, and had the volume set to zero. I felt her grip on my fingers tighten and looked up to see her eyes on me. They looked unfocused, but she smiled.

"Welcome back," I said.

"Did I sleep?" Cici asked. Her voice cracked like droughtland. "I'm so tired. Where are the others?"

"Getting food," I said, softly. "They're going to bring fish and chips. Will you be able to eat?"

"I'll try," she said. "It might be messy. Thank you for coming."

"You already said that. You're welcome. Brooke and I are planning to stay until Monday. We'll see how you're doing then."

"What day is it today?" Cici asked.

"Friday."

"Will you stay with me tonight?" she asked. "There's a couch you can sleep on, with blankets, they said."

"Wouldn't you prefer Brooke to stay?"

"I'd really like to know you're nearby, Sam," she said.

Her trust warmed me. "Of course I will, Cici."

Brooke returned alone, with food. I asked at the nurses' station if it was okay to raise the back of the hospital bed so that Cici could eat. She managed to eat most of her fish, but complained that it hurt her whole head, not just her jaw.

We avoided talking about the assault. At least, we tried to. I showed Brooke the video I'd captured of Cici as Carmen Sandiego, then the selfies I'd taken. Brooke also didn't know Faye Valentine of Cowboy Bebop fame, so I accused them both of being ignorant heathens and announced that I needed a better class of friends.

"Maybe you should just show us the show," Cici suggested.

"Sure," I said. "I think you'd like it."

We moved onto the photos we'd traded of Halloween - yes, including Tinkerbell - along with Phil, whom they knew, and Cade, whom they'd never met. I let Brooke read the message thread since it included the reply selfies from Cici.

"You were being creeped on?" Brooke asked Cici.

"Not by Sam," Cici said.

"I know that, Cee," Brooke said, sounding mildly exasperated. "By guys at the party."

"Oh yeah," Cici said. Her eyes widened, and her face turned paler than it had been. "¡Joder!" she exclaimed, then continued in a frightened voice, "Brooke? The men who attacked me. One of them, the one on my right, he was at the party. He was the one I told Sam about."

Brooke handed me my phone back and wrapped her arms around her friend. "It's over, Cee. They can't hurt you."

"I think we should tell... tell someone. Tell the police."

"If you can," Brooke said. "If it helps the cops identify them, yes."

The one on Cici's right would be the creep who groped her. She was unconscious at the time, so she still hadn't learned that.

Glancing down at my phone, I had an idea. I held up the group photo she'd sent me. "Hey, Cici, these girls would be able to identify him."

"Oh. Yeah." The idea seemed to push through her timidity. "He was the reason we banded together."

"Brooke, should I send this to the detective?" I asked. "The sooner they find them, the safer Cici will be."

Brooke nodded. I got the names of the girls from Cici. She knew the full names of two, and the first names of the others. I sent the photos to Detective Meakin in a text to the number on the card she'd given me, along with a short paragraph about Cici's realization.

The detective replied almost immediately with a terse message thanking me and saying she'd follow up.

Thinking about the assault had left Cici uneasy and drained her energy. "I think I need to sleep," she said. "I asked Sam to stay with me tonight." Then she looked at me. "I did ask, didn't I?"

"You did, sweetie," I agreed. "You said they'd bring me blankets."

"I thought I might have dreamed it," she said. "Nothing feels real today.'

I told Brooke I wanted to split the motel room cost anyway. "We'll figure it out when we get back," she said. After hugging her friend again, she left for the night.

The nurse brought me blankets. She escorted Cici to the bathroom, then gave her her scheduled pain pill.

 

Sometime around three in the morning I was woken by strange noises. After I'd recovered my senses enough to know why I was sleeping in a strange location, I recognized the noises as coming from Cici. I moved to her side. She was having a nightmare. Her head rolled from side to side, with muffled sobs and occasional mumbling that sounded like it might have been Spanish, but too disjointed to be words.

I hated seeing her suffer, but wasn't sure what I should do, so I pushed the nurse call button. The nurse came into the room and examined Cici with a frown.

"I wasn't sure if I should wake her," I whispered.

"Don't," the nurse said. "Not unless she's going to do herself harm. If you wake her, she'll be more likely to remember the dream. Let her process it. You can try soothing her with words and touch. If nightmares become chronic, she should tell her counselor."

"Okay," I said. I moved closer and gently stroked Cici's forearm. The nurse checked a few readings. After she left I spoke softly to Cici, telling her everything was going to be fine.

Soon, her face relaxed, and her sleep became more peaceful. Her hand turned over, and her fingers gripped mine with surprising force. She smiled in her sleep.

After a minute, her fingers went slack. I freed mine and returned to the couch bed. I woke once more when the nurse brought Cici's pain meds, then slept until the next round of instrument checks and doctor visits marked the start of Cici's new day.

The tests and visits didn't find any reason to keep Cici longer. At eleven the nurse brought her discharge paperwork.

"Alicia, are you able to sign this?" the nurse asked.

"Can you even sign your name?" I asked her, playfully. "Will you just have to make a thumbprint beside the words, 'Alicia, her mark'?"

Cici's grin was mischievous. "I know something you do not know," she said, signing the paper with a flourish. "I am not right-handed."

"You lose points for not knowing Faye Valentine," I said, "but Princess Bride references gain a few back."

 

Liz wasn't at the apartment when we arrived. We'd picked up Cici's pain killers and antibiotics from the pharmacy on the way. Detective Meakin had contacted Cici, and would be interviewing her in the afternoon. Cici was stressed about that, but knew she couldn't postpone it.

"Will you both be there with me?" Cici asked.

"I will, if you want me," Brooke said. "I don't think Sam should be. She's a witness."

"Yeah, that's what I was going to say," I said. "I wish I could be there for you, but I doubt the detective will want me in the room."

Besides, she needed the stability of her long-time best friend, not the comfort of a recent infatuation.

Cici's student apartment was tiny, with a couch, comfortable chair and TV in the shared space, and two bedrooms, each barely bigger than a twin bed plus desk. She didn't socialize much, and Liz spent much of her time at her boyfriend's.

Her hospital discharge instructions were not to isolate herself, but to keep a light schedule. She wasn't to study or to spend too much time reading for the next week, and not to drive - which wasn't a problem, since she didn't have a car.

When she'd showered and rested, we took her out for lunch, and then drove to the police offices. I took the time to wander around campus while I waited for Brooke to text me after the ordeal was over.

The rain of the past couple of days had paused, but threatened to return. The sky was overcast, the distant mountains in hiding, and I carried the umbrella Cici had loaned me. Foliage in the various tended areas seemed especially verdant after the rain, but perhaps it was normal in this climate.

Taking a moment to call Cade while I was walking, I learned that she'd had a great night. She hadn't taken anyone home, but she'd collected a couple of numbers. Phil had Ubered with her before heading home, as he regularly did for me.

"I almost wish we were both straight," she said.

I laughed. "I've told him that so many times," I agreed. "He's gonna make some guy a fine partner."

 

Cici was pale and visibly strained after her interview. Her head was hurting, but she felt she could stomach coffee, so we hid in the back room of a coffee shop that she knew. After a time, she started to talk about her interview. Brooke had been present, but she remained silent, occasionally touching Cici's arm for reassurance.

"After she asked me to repeat the story several times, she showed me the video," Cici said. "Your video. I hadn't seen it. The casual way the guy hit me... I don't remember that. Did you know I bit him?" A fleeting look of pride crossed her face. "That must be why he hit me. I don't remember that. I just remember I was trying to make him move his hand, then pain exploded in my head. I don't remember anything else until the emergency room, though they say I fought with the paramedics. They think I thought they were the attackers. She asked if I remember them talking about killing me. I don't." She faced me, but didn't meet my eyes. "That's what you heard on the phone?"

"Yeah," I said. "One thought the guy killed you. The guy who hit you said he didn't think so, but didn't seem to care."

"And the one who checked felt me up," she said. "I didn't know that. He's the one I remember from the party." She pushed her coffee away and stood suddenly. "I don't want any more," she said. "Can we go?"

 

Cici's head still hurt and her mood was dark when we returned to her apartment. Seeing her in so much pain hurt me, too.

It was close to time for her meds, so she took her pills and went to sleep in her room. I checked for groceries but found only a few boxed meals, so I borrowed the car and made a grocery trip. At least we could improve Cici's and Liz's food options while we were here.

I spent the rest of the afternoon making dinner, and when Cici woke, feeling a little less dispirited, we ate, then settled in to watch some mindless TV. Liz had returned, and joined us. Cici directed Brooke to sit on the left side of the couch. She sat beside her and gestured peremptorily for me to sit on her right.

Brooke grinned at me. "She's in full Princess mode," she said.

"Today I think she deserves it," I said, squeezing in beside her. The couch wasn't made for three. I tried to avoid bumping her bandaged wrist. Cici reached across with her left hand, picked up my arm and draped it around her back, giving me a cheeky grin. Then she took Brooke's hand in hers.

I glanced down at her wrist. "All these months of stalking and I never knew you were left-handed," I said.

"I'm sure there's a lot you don't know about me," Cici retorted.

Leaning close, I whispered directly into her ear, "I know the color of your bra."

Her face turned bright red, much to the amusement of her best friend and her roommate, though they couldn't have known why. Then she whispered back, "Only one of them."

"True," I said, at a normal volume. "What else don't I know?"

"I still attend mass, even though the church encourages my parents to be hateful," she said. "Sometimes when you see me making notes, I'm not working, I'm drawing flowers in a notebook. I had a terrible crush on my science teacher in high school. She was the one who encouraged me to apply to the college prep program. I sometimes wonder if she thought I'd make an idiot of myself if I stayed around her."

"Would you have?" I asked.

She had to think about that for a moment. "No, I think I knew it was a stupid crush, and I think she was truly proud of me for getting accepted. What else? Mamá found me reading 'The Handmaid's Tale' at sixteen and almost threw me out of the house. I hide any fiction I might have from her now."

"She used to cover for Elián before he became persona non grata," Brooke offered. "You were, what, 13? You already knew your mother was wrong."

"Do you still have to live with your parents?" I asked.

I felt Cici shrug. "I only stay with them during breaks," she said. "And I love my brother and sister. If I leave I'm scared that Mamá will poison them against me. I don't want to think about her."

"So don't," said Brooke. "Not today. You have enough to deal with. What shall we watch?"

We decided a romcom would be the least mental stress, so Liz selected one. Partway through, Brooke's alarm sounded. She cancelled it, and tried to get up, but Cici gripped her hand more tightly. "It's time for your meds, Cee," she said.

Cici pouted. "Don't get up. My wrist isn't too bad right now." She winced as she said that.

Brooke sighed. "Liz, could you get the Princess's meds from my purse, and bring us some water?"

Liz grinned and left the room, returning with a glass of water, then fished the drug container from Brooke's purse. She handed me the water, and Brooke the pills. After Cici had taken the pill from Brooke, I handed her the glass, taking it from her and setting it aside when she'd swallowed the pill.

Painkiller consumed, Cici lifted her feet into Brooke's lap and lay down in mine. She couldn't turn all the way toward the TV, because of the pain in her arm. She tried to get comfortable with her hand under her cheek, but after squirming around for a while, she decided it wasn't enough, so she reached out to take my right hand, pulling it to her shoulder, resting her face on our joined hands.

After a minute, Liz left the room again, returning with a towel to wedge under our hands. That satisfied Cici, who smiled her thanks at her.

"I think our Princess is getting high from the pills," I said.

"No, just tired," Cici murmured.

Leaning toward Brooke, I whispered, "Should we be worried about the concussion?"

Brooke shook her head. "I think it's the pills, and tiredness, like she said." She watched Cici wriggle further back into me. "And I think," she added, so softly that I could only hear her when I watched her lips, "that this is more than a crush." She nodded to her friend. I sighed and returned her nod.

By the end of the movie, Cici was clearly fading. When she rolled over in my lap to face me, I wasn't sure if she was even awake. Her left hand wrapped around my waist, and she pressed her face into my sweater. Then she brought her knees up, leaving her curled up in a fetal position in my lap.

"I might try to sleep like this," I whispered to Brooke. "I'll probably get all of the aches from it, but if she's comfortable I'd prefer not to disturb her. And I can keep monitoring her. Do you want to give me her drugs and head for the motel?"

Brooke gave me the pills. I set the container beside the water glass. Liz added Ibuprofen to the mix.

"The pain pills include Tylenol," Liz said. "The nurse said not to give her any Tylenol, but Ibuprofen is okay if the meds aren't keeping up."

"Thank you for staying with her," said Brooke. "Please be careful."

"I will, sis," I said.

After Brooke left, Liz whispered goodnight, then turned out the lights. Eventually, I managed to drift off to sleep.

 

It must have been after midnight when I woke up. Something was brushing the side of my right breast. I looked down to find Cici's eyes half open. I had no idea whether she was aware of what she was doing, but the fingers of her left hand had travelled up to stroke my chest. After a few minutes, the hand dropped to my waist, and I heard her making soft rasping sounds of sleep.

The next time I woke, it was about two. Cici's eyes were wide open.

"Hey, Sam," she murmured. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to wake you, but my arm hurts and I can't get comfortable."

I collected my phone from the table beside me and checked it. "It's time for your next pain pill, anyway. Can you sit up?"

She slowly eased herself upright. I stood, my back twinging, to collect her pills and water. When she'd swallowed them, I asked if she'd be more comfortable in bed.

She nodded, slowly. "Yeah, but... umm... will you come with me? I don't want to be alone."

"I get that," I said. "Will we both fit?"

"It will be tight," she said, "but I think it will beat trying to sleep on this couch. I'm going to brush my teeth and change. I feel like something died in my mouth."

"Tell me about it," I replied. "I'll do the same when you're done."

While Cici was in the bathroom I dug into my suitcase for my pajamas and toiletries. Since Cici was still not out, I chose clothes for the next day, layering them at the top of the case, then leaving the case beside the bathroom.

Cici emerged a moment later in a thin cotton pajama shirt and matching shorts, carrying her clothes. I managed mostly to avoid staring at her smooth brown legs. "My room's on the left," she said. "I'll leave the door open."

I changed into my pajamas - pale blue bamboo cloth with a button jacket and capri-length pants - in the bathroom. As Cici had done, I carried my clothes into her tiny room, folding them neatly in the corner to deal with later.

Cici was watching me from the twin-sized bed. This was going to be a tight squeeze. I knew from experience that if I didn't curl up, my feet would reach the end of the bed, and I wouldn't be able to curl up much if I shared with Cici. My neck and back were already sore from sleeping sitting up.

At least not being lodged in place on the couch would probably distribute the aches more evenly around my body.

"I'm going to have to sleep facing the wall because of my wrist," Cici said. "I'll try not to push you out of the bed."

"I'll have to spoon you to fit, I think," I said. "Are you okay with that?"

She grinned. "Maybe that's my real motive for wanting you here," she said. "Except it really isn't, Sam. I don't want to be alone."

I slipped under the duvet and rolled toward her. She was still on her back, and it was a tight fit. As I'd expected, my feet were poking over the end of the mattress.

"I keep thinking how terrified I was, Sam," Cici said. "If you hadn't called, I wouldn't have been able to do anything at all. Every time I think of that, I feel icy fingers gripping me."

"I know, honey," I said, trying to sound as soothing as I could. "Brooke and I are here for you to help you get through that. Even after we leave, we'll video chat, and we're only a few hours away. Has anyone talked to you about counseling?"

"One of the nurses mentioned that the school would help me," she said.

"We'll talk to Brooke about that tomorrow," I said. "Which I guess is today. Now that you seem to be coming out of the shock more. You've been a little spacey."

"Yeah, I know," she said. "I might need your help rolling over so that I don't use my arm."

I wasn't sure what I could do, but I set my left hand on her back as she started to turn, and my right hand on her hip, adding a little pressure. Her arm rested against her side. Then I rolled against her back. I could bend my legs, and my feet were now on the mattress, but I still felt that I was precariously balanced on the side of the bed.

"I think you could wrap your arm around me," Cici said. "You might be comfortable. My wrist will be okay if you're only touching my upper arm."

Gingerly, I tried it. Avoiding touching her chest was awkward, but it was still less uncomfortable than I'd been a moment earlier. After a few minutes, I felt her shift slightly, then the fingers of her left hand started toying with my fingers. She wasn't holding my hand, these felt like nervous taps.

"Hey, Samara," she said, softly, about ten minutes later, "are you still awake?"

I was, of course. I'd been debating whether to help myself to some of her Ibuprofen. My head was hurting from the uncomfortable sleep on the couch, though at least the cricks and aches felt better than they had. I'd decided not to, because I'd disrupt our sleeping arrangement.

"Yeah, honey?"

The first time I'd used the endearment it had just slipped out. Now, it felt natural, though I wondered if I should try to censor myself.

Cici's fingers were still nervously tapping my fingertips. "When that guy g... groped me?"

"Yeah?" I said, softly. Anger welled up in me. I wished I could have the chance to kick him in the balls.

"It feels... I mean, I know it could have been so much worse, and it's all because of you that it wasn't, but it feels, umm, dirty. I want... umm. I'd like you to touch me, to let me feel that it will be okay again. Just there, I mean."

The jolt of desire made me feel guilty. "Cici," I said, "I'm so sorry you went through that. I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable later. I'm already wrapped around you. I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you. Also," I added, "I think Brooke would kill me."

"I won't tell her that part," Cici said, "and having you wrapped around me makes me feel safer than at any time since... since I saw those cabrones arrive. Please?"

"Okay," I said, "if you really want, but that's all, I promise."

"That's all I want," she said. Then her fingers stopped their nervous dance.

Of course now my fingers were nervous. Disentangling myself from Cici's body right now wouldn't be easy. Disentangling myself from her life would be a whole lot harder, especially since I was increasingly uncertain that I wanted to. But what she needed right now mattered more than what I - or Brooke - wanted.

So I edged my hand higher, then raised it to touch the fabric of her shirt. The cotton was thin, but it was also soft. It was not a barrier to feeling the yielding flesh within. I'd already seen how attractive her cleavage could be in her Carmen Sandiego costume. Now I could feel how firm her breasts were to produce that effect.

Tentatively, I ran my finger around, near the base of the mound of her left breast, then caressed it gently with all of my fingers. Cici wriggled a little against me, her body feeling like its tension had eased. "That's nice," she whispered.

"Should I stop now?" I asked.

"Not yet," she said, her tone husky, so I kept stroking. If I said I wasn't getting more turned on with each touch I'd be lying.

There was a slight tremor under my fingers as I moved them a little higher. The tremor came again, more strongly, as I approached her nipple. I realized that I was feeling her breath catch. Extending my thumb, I stroked the center of her nipple, first up and down, then in a circular motion, feeling it become firmer to my touch.

Cici made a contented sound. She quivered slightly, the cloth becoming tight, then loose again. This happened a couple more times, then I felt her fingers take mine. She guided my hand into her now-unfastened shirt, to press my fingers to her bare breast. She'd opened her top, left-handed, of course. Her skin was warm and silky to my touch.

The sharp, exciting buzz of warmth flowing to my core ramped up my arousal. My now-slick underwear slid against me as I pressed myself against Cici instinctively, until I realized what I was doing and forced myself to make a small gap between our bodies. My resolve was almost undone when Cici's foot stole back to rest on my calves.

Cupping the tip of her breast in my fingers, I squeezed and rolled it slightly. Cici was making contented sounds against me. I pinched her nipple lightly between finger and thumb, twisting and tugging on it gently. Then I caressed the whole breast again, before reluctantly moving my hand away.

"Thank you, Samara," she whispered.

"Thank you for trusting me," I returned.

She chuckled softly. "I'm wishing you hadn't promised not to do more," she said.

"The promise was to myself as much as to you," I said. "I won't take advantage of you, honey, even if you want me to."

She sighed. Her fingers met mine again, but without the nervous tapping, just hooking into mine as she relaxed. "I think I'll be able to sleep now," she said.

I nuzzled away some of her ringlets to expose her neck, then gave it a soft kiss. "Goodnight, Cici."

 

I slept surprisingly well after that, only waking when there was a soft knocking at the door. Cici stirred, then rolled away from the wall. My arm was still around her. "What is it?" she called out, hoarsely.

"I thought you'd want to know that Brooke is on her way over," came Liz's voice. "Your pills are on the table out here and it's probably time for the next."

"I'm sure it is," Cici said. "I'll be right out."

She pushed the duvet down, forgetting that her top was unfastened, and I got a very pleasant eyeful. She glanced down, her eyes widening in embarrassment, so I didn't think it was deliberate.

I couldn't shake the memory of caressing Cici's breast when I took coffee to her. Even though it was what she wanted, it still crossed the line of a platonic crush. Worse, I wanted to do it again. I was sure that her cheek color had more to do with what she recalled me doing than the way she'd accidentally exposed herself.

My pussy tingled with the desire to open her top further, but I pushed the urge aside. "Hold on," I whispered, then pulled her shirt together and fastened it for her. Her left hand might be the one to manage complex tasks, but fastening buttons one-handed is never easy. I watched her as she climbed over me to leave the room, then left behind her, opening my case to grab my clothes.

"I think she's doing better today," I said to Liz, while Cici was changing. "I'm not sure I am. I'm aching everywhere."

"I'm not surprised," Liz said. "The bed isn't big enough for two. Or did you sleep on the floor? I'm not sure which would be worse."

"No, we shared," I said. "Cici didn't want to be alone. The bed was a tight squeeze, but not really uncomfortable. It was hours sleeping upright on the couch that's causing the pain."

"So, are you, like, girlfriends?"

I shook my head. "We've only met once before this. Other than me stalking her webcam and a few phone conversations, we hardly know each other."

"That's not the impression Cici gives when she talks about you," Liz said.

"To be fair, I think about her a lot, too. I like her. I like watching her from afar - literally." I chuckled. "But we're not together."

"Yet?" Liz suggested, with raised eyebrows.

"Not gonna lie, I like Cici," I said. "I could see it happening, but right now, all I care about is that she gets the support she needs. After that we'll talk." I yawned. "If she was, like, twenty-three, so I could be more sure that she knows what she's doing..."

"I think you may be underestimating her," Liz said, her eyes holding mine. "She has a lot of self-awareness. Don't dismiss her as a near-teen."

"Says the near-teen," I said, with a grin. "Yeah, yeah, I know, twenty-one. But I think you're right, she does." I turned to the stove. "I picked up bacon and eggs on my grocery run yesterday. I'll make breakfast for us all. There's coffee."

"I see that," Liz said. "Thanks."

Cici hadn't changed. She joined us while I was still frying bacon. The thin pajama top and pants did little to hide her curves, and from the shy glances she gave me, she knew it. Her nipples shaped the top, and I was convinced that they were more prominent than they had been a few moments earlier. I wanted to lead her back into her room and find out for myself, which was a terrible impulse for so many reasons, not the least of which was her trauma. Yet last night she'd wanted touch to help deal with that trauma.

Again, I subdued my wayward thoughts, and concentrated on the food. Brooke had arrived, and was sitting at the table. Cici stood close beside me as I worked. It was a relief to slide bacon, eggs and toast onto her plate so that she'd move away to eat.

"What do you want to do today?" I asked her.

"Nothing," she said. "My head is pounding, and I think the pills are making me feel sick. I want to stay here, but I don't feel like reading."

"The nurse said you should ease into reading anyway," I said.

"Maybe we could go for a walk?" offered Brooke.

"Maybe," Cici said. "I thought about watching Sam's Cowbop show. Could we go out this afternoon?"

"Cowboy Bebop," I said, glaring at her. I was pretty sure she was mangling the name deliberately.

"Whatever. Is it streaming?"

"Yeah, I think I can find it," I said.

Cici took the time to change while I was figuring out apps and streaming services on her TV. When she returned, she demanded the same seating arrangement as the previous evening. Not that there was any other option without including an uncomfortable folding chair they kept, but Brooke complained that her "Designated Princess" time was over, while Cici argued that it lasted for the remainder of our visit.

We watched the first three episodes of the show. Faye didn't make an appearance until the third episode, but Cici recognized her immediately. "Oh, hey, that's her, isn't it?" Cici said. "She looks like your photo. That was a good costume."

After a fourth episode, I made a quick lunch. Cici swallowed another pain pill and the three of us left the apartment, Liz retreating into her room.

"I'd like to see the view I've been looking at on the webcam, but since it's also the place where..." I hadn't even considered that she might want to avoid the place where she'd been assaulted. I may never see her under her tree again. "I'd be okay going there alone."

Cici shook her head. "I want to show you," she said. "We've had too many shared times beneath the watchful eye of the webcam."

Brooke was frowning at Cici contemplatively. "Cee, you don't have to power through what happened to you, you know? Maybe you should talk to a counselor first."

"I'll talk to a counselor, I promise," said Cici, "but I'll be okay with this."

Like the previous night's touch, the presence of Brooke and myself seemed to help her exorcise any potential demons of fear. The rain seemed finally to have moved away, and the sun occasionally showed its face. We took several photos of each other under the tree, and watched the live feed of ourselves gesturing to the camera.

After a time, Cici's mood seemed to be lighter than at any time since we arrived. She wanted photos of Brooke and me under her tree. We snapped all combinations, Cici's cheeks coloring when Brooke insisted we stand with our arms around each other for another shot.

We ate at a casual Greek restaurant before heading back to the apartment.

"So, Cee, have you ever told Sam your future plans?"

"Mmm, no, I don't think so," Cici said. "I've been distracted." She set down her gyro and patted her lips with a napkin.

"I heard you'll be back home for grad school next year," I said.

"Not home, I hope. I want to get my own place, if I can," she said. "But yes, I'm coming back for my grad program. There's a local biotech company that has partial sponsorship and flexible hours for graduate researchers. I'll need to be accepted into grad school before applying. If I don't make it in I might apply to work there anyway. I should be well qualified."

"She'll get in," Brooke predicted. "She has a 4.0 and she already took the GRE and aced it. She really is as smart as she claims. She's the only one who ever doubts it."

"So if you can get hired, you'll be able to afford your own place, right?" I asked.

"That's the idea," Cici agreed, and resumed eating.

 

That evening we watched a little more of the anime. Cici was tiring after two episodes, so we turned off the TV and talked for a while.

I suggested that she take my place at the motel, to spend the night in a more comfortable bed, and with her best friend, but she shook her head hard enough to make herself wince. "I'd like for you to stay with me again," she said. "You'll be leaving tomorrow."

"If it's what you want," I said. I glanced at Brooke, who shrugged.

After Brooke left, Cici wanted me to hold her on the couch, though she made it clear she wasn't going to let me sleep there. With just the two of us, she insisted on me being on her left, so her wrapped wrist wouldn't be trapped between us.

"Just so you know," I said, "you shouldn't get used to me doing everything you say. I think you deserve being in Princess mode for now, but don't expect special treatment in the future."

She turned to grin at me. "So you're admitting that there's a future?"

I hedged. "There's always a future," I said.

She began to make a witty comeback - I assume it would have been witty - but stopped herself. A couple more times she seemed about to say something, but again, there were no words.

"I want to ask you something," she said, finally.

I didn't know where this was going, but I felt a stirring of eagerness to hear it. "Okay?"

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Oh, wow," I said. Cici's face fell at my surprise. "Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Cici asked, nervously. "You know I like you."

"I like you, too, Cici," I said. "I'm... not saying no. I just wonder if you've thought it through."

"What do you mean?"

"I could see us becoming more than friends, Cici, but I don't want to take advantage of you having a crush. Are you sure you're not feeling attracted to me because I helped you get away from your attackers? Do you like me because you think I saved your ass?"

"I was jealous of the naked fairy in your personal space," she replied. "'Course, that was before I knew that she was wearing a full-body suit, when it looked like she had two strips of green ribbon." She gave me a tentative grin. "I was jealous because I liked you already. Before what happened. I sit out in the cold hoping that you'll be watching, and that you like what you see. I think about you..." her cheeks were coloring. "I think about you at night, sometimes, with your blue hair and your jewelry and your smile. Before what happened, I mean."

"I think about you too," I said. "You're smart, you're funny, you're beautiful, you glow when you smile. I just... don't see myself as being what you need. I'm a hair stylist. You're going to be Dr. Reyes, PhD. How could we ever hold a conversation about your studies or your work? I'm almost six years older than you. I've had girlfriends. I've had hookups. I'm not an innocent young thing. You deserve someone who can be your equal."

"I think you've proved that you're smart in the ways that matter," she said. "I don't need a lab partner. I'll have plenty of people who can challenge my work. I'll need people in my life who are not academic associates or potential rivals. I wish I could be creative like you. I wish I had an easy way with other people like you do. I just... I just like you," she said again, then added, "I like you a lot." Her cheeks colored. "I wouldn't ask just anyone to touch me like you did last night. Which, by the way, was very soothing."

I gave her a cheeky grin. "Maybe I should offer my soothing services to clients."

"Don't you dare!" she yelped.

I laughed. "The state would probably revoke my license, and I'm sure Elaine wouldn't be happy. But I'm glad it helped." More softly, I added, "Just so you know, touching you made me feel good, too. I think... asking you to be sure is only partly about protecting you. If we become close, you could very easily break my heart, Cici. I want to protect myself from that, too."

"I understand," Cici said. "I can't promise that my plans won't fall through, and I'll be stuck working in California or Texas, but I can't see myself not wanting to be with you."

"Then yeah," I said, with a slow nod. I smiled at her. "I'd like to be your girlfriend."

Cici's returned smile was radiant. I wasn't wrong when I said it seemed to make her glow, and in this moment she was bright enough to warm me thoroughly. She rested her head on my shoulder, wrapped her good arm around me, and held me close. "Thank you, Samara," she whispered.

"I don't think it will come as any surprise to anyone," I said, with a casual tone. "Your nurse thought we were together. Liz did, too, and you talk to her all the time. I think even Brooke is coming around to the idea.

"Brooke will be fine," Cici mumbled, her voice muffled as her lips were partly covered by my tee shirt at my collar bone. "She always wants what's best for me."

"Are you drooling on me there? Eww!"

"¡Qué no!" she objected, then turned her head so that her bright eyes looked up at me.

Grinning, I touched her beneath her chin, then drew her face up and kissed her gently on the lips. It was barely more than a touch, my lips only slightly parted, but she sighed, snuggling closer when I released her.

"Me gusta," she murmured.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"You don't know any Spanish?"

I shook my head. She wasn't looking at me, but she would have felt the movement.

"It means I like that," she said. "Me gusta, I like. Me gustas, I like you. Tú me gustas."

"Tú me gustas too," I said, though I could tell that the words sounded nothing like Cici's version.

"Tú también me gustas," she said. "Vamos a acostarnos."

"And that means?"

"Let's go to bed," Cici said, her cheeks rosy.

"We've been girlfriends for less than five minutes, and she wants me in her bed already," I said, with a mock sigh.

"Again," she corrected me, "since you were already there last night." A little more seriously, she added, "Just like last night. You made me comfortable. I don't want any more than that."

"Okay, Cici," I said, as she stopped snuggling and stood.

She paused suddenly in her bedroom doorway. I didn't stop in time, and almost knocked her over. Once she was upright, she said, "I don't want any more than that yet. But... uh..."

"What is it, Cici?" I prompted, after a while.

"Icouldn'tstanditifyoufoundsomeoneelse." The words came out in a rush. Her eyes were on the floor and this must have been the least composed I'd ever seen her.

"Oh, you want us to be exclusive?" I asked.

"Uh..." Cici looked to be on the edge of panic.

"Relax, honey," I said, squeezing her hand. "Of course we are. I have never cheated on a relationship, even when we knew it was temporary. And as far as I'm concerned, we're now committed." I raised my eyebrows. "That means you don't get to hook up with anyone, either."

"I wouldn't!" Cici squeaked, her eyes suddenly wide. "I'd never do that to you!"

I kissed her forehead, then urged her forward into her room. "I know, Cici."

"¡Eres tan mala conmigo!" she muttered, as she grabbed her pajamas and passed me, heading for the bathroom.

 

In Cici's twin bed, I took up the same position behind her as I had before, I wrapped my arm carefully around her, avoiding her wrist, then lightly kissed her shoulder. She moved my hand to her left breast, and I soon found her nipple swelling to my touch. I continued to kiss the back of her neck and the sensitive skin on her shoulder, and she shivered, shimmying back into me, her ass pressing into my lower belly.

"No one's ever touched me like this before," said Cici. "Or kissed me like this. You are making me want to do stuff with you."

I lightly nibbled the base of her neck. She let out a small huff of breath. "Stuff? Stuff like... sacrificing me to Dagon? Singing a Wagner duet with me? Getting blind drunk on Mezcal with me? Oh, wait, you're not twenty-one. Good, 'cause I'm here to tell you getting drunk on Mezcal is evil."

"Qué tonta eres, mi cielo."

"Sacrificing me to Dagon it is, then?"

"No, idiot," she responded. "Stuff that you'd only do with a girl you, umm, really like. Stuff that would mean taking our clothes off. Stuff that I've never wanted to do with anyone else."

"Never wanted to do?" I asked. "You mean, you've never, umm..."

"I've never taken my clothes off with a girl," Cici said. "I've never had sex. Aubrey wanted to, but I didn't. She didn't think it was a big deal. Maybe I'm too Catholic. Maybe I didn't think it was worth earning Mamá's ire."

"Am I worth her ire?" I asked.

"Por supuesto," she said, "but I think you will tell me to wait. Even if I am your girlfriend."

"You're right, honey," I said. "I wish I didn't have to. I could hurt you too easily, right now, and I think the nurse who instructed you about your concussion would be horrified. Please visit me over Christmas, because I'd really like to do those things, too. And to go on dates with you."

"That would be good, too," she said. Her nipple was hard beneath the thin cotton. I trailed my hand upward to her right breast, cupping it, rolling it beneath my palm.

"May I unbutton your top?" I whispered.

She didn't speak, but I felt her nod, so I slowly worked her buttons open as I lightly kissed her neck.

"We can watch your Cowbop show too, when I see you," Cici said. Her voice was huskier than it had been.

"We can watch it in my bedroom, if you like," I said. "I have a queen bed, not a postage-stamp sized slab of foam."

"I'd like that," said Cici. "And you have a much better bottom than the woman in the show."

I chuckled. "Is the pain killer starting to kick in?"

"It might be," she admitted, "but it's still true."

Drawing back her shirt, I began to caress the bare skin of her firm, rounded breast. "You spend a lot of time studying my bottom, do you?"

"Some," she said. Her fingers stroked my hand as I cupped, trapping her nipple between the base of my thumb and index finger. "You have a nice bottom, and nice hips, and nice legs. And a very nice way of touching me."

I could hear sleep beginning to creep into her voice, but it was still deeper than usual.

"Can you roll a little more onto your back for a moment without hurting your hand?" I asked.

"Mmm, I think so." She moved her hand over her thighs so that it didn't get trapped between us, and turned to her right. I didn't need her all the way onto her back. I held her partly on her side as I slid down her body, my feet extending over the end of the mattress, and began to kiss her right breast.

"Oh..." Cici breathed. Her breathing became heavier, and after a few moments, she began to pant.

I covered her nipple with my mouth and began to suckle, feeling it unfold beneath my tongue.

"¡Oh! ¡Madre de Dios!" Cici groaned. Her left hand drifted to my head. She stroked my hair as I used my lips and tongue on her. I could feel how deep her breathing had become, and she pressed her chest against me.

Then I slowly drew back and began to fasten her shirt. She trailed her fingers over my face before I rolled her all the way onto her left side, and slid back up to where I almost fit in the bed behind her.

She caught my hand, threading her fingers into mine, then holding it to her chest. "That was... that was very nice," she breathed, more sleep than arousal in her tone, now. "I like being your girlfriend."

"So do I, honey," I said.

I felt her thumb stroke mine. I wasn't far behind her on the path to sleep, when I heard her ask something, her voice slurring with sleep.

"What was that, Cici?"

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked. "You said so, earlier."

"I do, Cici," I said, with sincerity. "I think you're absolutely the most beautiful girl I know. Which probably means I'm biased, but it is what it is."

I felt her tug my hand closer to her. After a moment, I heard her mumble one more time.

"Juro que me voy a casar contigo, cariño."

 

I woke to find Cici facing me, left arm around me, head nestled against the base of my neck. Her right arm was stretched out over the pillow, so she wasn't putting much weight on her wrist, but it can't have been comfortable.

I stroked her back until she woke. She was confused for a few moments, then rolled back, asking in a raspy voice, "How did I get here?"

"Well, twenty-one years ago, your mommy and your daddy must have loved each other very much..."

"I hate you, Sam, with the fire of a thousand suns."

"I know," I said. "I'm feeling the warmth."

She stretched, which did wondrous things to her pajama top. I wished I hadn't refastened it for her the previous night. "It's your fault for tempting me to turn over," she said. "My wrist hurts now. I hope I haven't damaged it."

"You're due for a painkiller," I said. "I'm sure that if you'd done any damage you'd be yelling, not scowling at me."

I rolled out of bed, finding her a pill and a glass of water. "I'll make us some breakfast," I said, after she'd taken her pill. She nodded.

A few minutes later, she was looking more put together, hair more or less under control, wearing the black glasses she'd be stuck with until she could get new frames, though still in her thin cotton pajamas. There was no one else around, so I held her against me for several long moments, feeling her relax, her head resting against my neck.

Liz emerged from her room, doing a double-take when she saw us. "Oh, hi," she said.

Cici released me slowly. "Morning," she said to her roomie.

"Morning," said Liz. "So the two of you are..."

"Mmhmm," Cici confirmed, with a huge smile.

"She says that," I said, "but she also hates me with the fire of a thousand suns."

"True," Cici agreed.

"She never used to be so dramatic, Sam. You're a bad influence." Liz gave me a quick grin. "I think it's cool that you're together."

"I hope that's Brooke's reaction, too," I muttered.

"It will be," Cici declared. I raised an eyebrow. "Well, it will be eventually," she said.

"Can you text her to see when she'll arrive?" I asked Cici. "I need to know when to start her eggs."

"She's almost here," Cici said a moment later, so I cooked Brooke's eggs with everyone else's.

Cici gave me several glances over breakfast. Enough that I expected Brooke to notice, but I survived until I'd collected up the dishes. I was going to wash them, too, but Liz cut in.

"Brooke, I have something to tell you," Cici said, as I sat down.

Brooke looked at her suspiciously.

"I asked Samara to be my girlfriend, and she said yes."

Well, that was stark, but at least it was in the open.

Brooke looked between us.

"I know," I said, quickly. "Shotgun, no one will find the body, dire consequences all around. In my defense, I didn't say yes immediately. She convinced me that it wasn't a temporary infatuation because of the incident, and I've promised her I'll be exclusive and faithful and will treat her well. If I don't, I'll hand you the shotgun and shovel myself."

Brooke stared at me for several seconds, before saying, "I guess those are the basics, yes."

"And she promised me we could watch Cowboy Bebop in bed at Christmas," Cici added, helpfully.

"Oh, jeez, Cici, don't say anything to your best friend about sharing a bed. That's TMI."

Brooke actually smirked at this. "I don't know, if all you do is watch TV..." She glared at Cici. "Now go get ready. Lawyer's office at ten."

"Right. Lawyer." Cici scurried off to her bedroom, emerging a moment later to enter the bathroom. I heard the shower start.

The look Brooke gave me was resigned. "Honestly, I expected you to yield sooner than you did."

"Oh? I guess she was only half conscious on Friday and still mostly out of it on Saturday. Are you saying I shouldn't trust her judgement?"

"No, not in the slightest," Brooke said. "I'm saying she's a very determined Princess, and she had her sights on you before Halloween. You're probably worried about her being fragile while she has you hooked and is reeling you in. But it's what you want too, so it would have happened sooner than later."

"That sounds scarily accurate," I said. "And you're okay with it?"

"What would be the point of not being okay?" she asked. "I wasn't okay with Aubrey, but I don't think I needed to worry. You, I trust, especially after the last few days. You'll be good for her. I'll warn you, though, her mother is her Achilles' heel. She knows she has to get away, but, you know, family. She helped bring up her siblings, and they're very close. If she didn't have someone else in her life, she might postpone the inevitable confrontation ad infinitum. If she has you, I think she'll choose you over her mother, but it isn't a certainty. All I can say is, don't push. Let her make the choice for herself, and you'll see her determination win out."

"That's a lot," I said. "Mamá sounds like a piece of work."

"What kind of woman tosses her own son onto the streets at seventeen?" Brooke asked. "Cici knows she'll do the same, and then she loses her other brother and her sister. When that happens, she'll need support. She'll need you. After the last few days, I know she'll be in good hands. So yeah, I'm okay with it."

"Oh, no pressure, Samara," I said, sarcastically. "Everything will be just peachy, Samara. Enjoy having a new girlfriend, Samara."

Brooke grinned.

 

I took a shower and changed while Cici was getting ready. I hadn't brought clothing to attempt to look professional, while Brooke had managed to pack plenty of business attire. It wouldn't have surprised me to discover she'd brought pressed pinstripe pajamas. Not that I'd ever know, since I hadn't even seen the motel room I was technically sharing with her.

Cici hadn't made any attempt to hide the nasty looking bruise on her face, or the gash in her curly hair. She had a new band-aid over the nasty tear on her nose that her glasses had made, and she wore her plain black spare glasses. Even so, she was beautiful, and I told her so. It brought a smile, and her left hand sought my right as we approached the lawyer's office. This time I'd be able to be present with her and Brooke.

Cici signed a small sheaf of papers, then recounted her story again, several times, as the lawyer, Maureen, took notes, asking cogent questions. She played the video, asking Cici and then me to narrate what was happening, and then interrogated me on my actions, what I heard on the phone, and, unlike Detective Meakin, the emergency response. We gave her the names of the girls who'd banded together at the Halloween party.

"I'll work as closely as I can with the police," Maureen said. "I don't see any mishandling, so as long as they don't stonewall our access to the investigation, we won't be adversaries. It's crucial that they find the assailants. Assuming there's a prosecution - which there will be - we'll probably wait until the outcome is known before filing suit. I'll be looking at their histories to find any reason that their behavior could have been predicted, which often is the case when their actions are so egregious. If we can show that their families were negligent based on their past, that gives us a broader set of codefendants, and even if the connection is a stretch, it gives us a stronger hand in negotiating a settlement.

"Since we're probably not dealing with insurance, don't expect a windfall. Crime Victims Compensation will cover your medical expenses, but you'll need to reimburse them from any settlement. And there's my contingency fee, of course."

"I understand," Cici said. Her expression was grim. I could almost feel Cici's anger against the assholes - anger for the way they'd treated her, and anger at the changes they'd forced in her life: the fear in situations that had been comfortable, the uncertainty in her ability to graduate with the grades she deserved, the delay in her studies - all things we'd talked about in the past couple of days. Anger, too, at them for anyone else they may have chosen to target, or possibly had targeted, who'd had a more malign outcome.

"Then I'll get to work," Maureen said, "and I'll be in touch about any and all developments." Without any hesitation, she extended her left hand to Cici, who was nonplussed. Her left hand may be dominant, but she was still used to using her right to shake hands. She gave the attorney a rueful smile, then took her left hand in her own.

 

We had lunch before taking Cici back to her apartment. She was despondent at her tiredness. If she was as easily exhausted when she went back to her studies as she was by the interviews with the detective and the lawyer then she wasn't going to be able to keep up her heavy schedule.

Brooke attempted to reassure her on this. "First, you have another week of rest. That's the point of resting, Cici, because I know that if you weren't listening to the doctors, you'd have your head in a book as soon as we drive away. Second, you're still planning on graduating a quarter early, right? That's such a Cici thing to do. You took summer classes to give yourself a buffer. Now you can use it. Don't graduate early, and take the last three quarters at the pace of a normal human."

"But I want my results back for grad school apps," Cici objected.

"Normal humans wouldn't have them all, would they?" Brooke's tone was patient, as though responding to a teen with "But Mom..." complaints. "And I know what you will have by then will be good enough to be accepted. Am I wrong?"

Cici shrugged, still acting like a sullen teen.

"See how the work goes, but after the assault you shouldn't have any trouble delaying a class or two. You know you'll be back to Super-Cici when you start grad school. Take a little time to be normal human Cici if you need."

Cici sighed. "I hate that those cabrones dictate my future," she said.

"I get that," Brooke said. "I do. But if you'd fallen off your bike and broken your arm you'd have to make adjustments, and it wouldn't be anyone's fault. Sometimes you need to be flexible, whatever the reason. Maybe if you're not working so hard, you could go spend more time with Elián."

Cici's expression softened immediately. "I'd like that. I haven't seen him as much as I should, the past three years."

"There you go," said Brooke. "Not everything about what happened has to be negative. You even found yourself a girlfriend."

"That's true, too," Cici said, her cheeks darkening as she looked at me.

"So will you be okay if we leave today?" Brooke asked. "We need to get back to work, but you're still more important if you need us."

"I wish I could keep both of you," she said, "but yeah, I'm good, and I have your numbers."

 

Back at the apartment, Cici was ready to go back to bed for the day, and she wasn't happy about Brooke and me leaving. Before we did, she took my hand. "I need to tell Sam something," she said. "I'll only keep her for a moment."

Without waiting for either of us to respond, she dragged me into her room. Then she stood before me, seeming tongue-tied.

"What did you want to tell me, honey?" I asked.

"I wanted to tell you, umm, that I want to do this," she said. She launched herself at me, wrapping her left arm around me before planting her lips on mine. Her right moved around more slowly, to hold me with a rigid forearm instead of her hand.

She was trying for more than our almost-chaste kiss the previous day, but she was inexperienced. Whatever she'd done with Ingrid-Aubrey or any other girl, it can't have involved a lot of kissing, or else they'd been bad at it.

I took over, showing her what it was like to be kissed by someone who truly cared about her. Someone who liked her, and who liked kissing. I backed off from her initial assault on my lips, returning the kiss gently, letting it grow in power and passion, until I was devouring her. She was making soft sounds into the kiss, pressing her body into mine, before I drew back, leaving her breathless.

Cici's pupils were blown wide, her eyes almost black, but shining with an inner fire. "¡Ay, Dios!" she breathed. "¡Dios mío!"

I kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm glad we had this chance," I said, hearing the extra fry in my voice. "But if we kiss as much as I would like to, Brooke will leave without me."

"Just one more?" Cici pleaded.

Ten minutes later, when we finally broke apart, something had changed between us. It felt that we were no longer "theoretical" girlfriends. It was ridiculous. We'd been girlfriends for less than a day. Far too short a time for me to feel gutted at leaving her, but I did.

We spent another five minutes allowing our breathing to return to normal. Every time I looked up at her, I found myself staring at her lips, or noticing how she stared at mine. Finally, she groaned, and said, "We really can't, can we?"

"Not if we don't want Brooke to abandon me," I said, "and as tempting as that is, I really don't want to have to fly home."

Her eyes still glowed as she tugged me back into the living room. Her cheeks were only slightly flushed as she released my hand.

"I'm looking forward to Christmas," she said to me, before bidding goodbye to Brooke.

 

Brooke glanced at me several times as she drove, amusement in her eyes.

"What is it?" I asked.

"In a lot of ways, Cee's still very young," she said. "Inexperienced, even more than other twenty-year-olds."

"I know she's very innocent, Brooke," I said. "I won't hurt her."

She shook her head. "That's not it," she said, still clearly amused. "Inexperienced like maybe using a little too much lipstick for a meeting. Lipstick that may have been a cheap brand that a girl who doesn't socialize much would use. That she'd probably bought just for the color, to dress as Carmen Sandiego."

It took me a few seconds before I caught up with her. "Oh, no," I groaned. I opened the passenger vanity mirror and checked my reflection. "Way to be subtle before her best friend. Are there any tissues in the car?"