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down like that so I knew it had to be Que. I could barely make out his face in the darkness of the living room. I was instantly livid.
    â€œShhh! You know what’s up. Why you think you here?” Que exclaimed in a hushed tone.
    â€œYou better back up off me, that’s what I fucking know!”
    â€œC’mon, girl,” Que cooed.
    â€œI don’t know what you thought this was, but do not touch me.” I seethed, pushing what I could of his chunky body and stubby fingers away from me.
    He snatched my arm. I quickly felt his strength and the intensity of his grip.
    â€œYou acting like you don’t know what the deal is,” Que whispered as he grew agitated.
    I had been known to talk a lot of shit and most of the time I could back it up, but to say that I was not afraid at that very moment would have been a lie. Crazy thoughts were going through my head during those few seconds: Where the fuck is Dev? What if this drunk fool won’t listen to my objections and he continues to try and force himself on me? Damn it! I don’t even have my mace. Okay, I gotta pull it together and show no fear.
    â€œI do know what the deal is,” I said, as I snatched my arm away using a thumb-breaking self-defense technique my dad had taught me. “I’m trying to sleep and I wake up to some perv trying to feel me up. I don’t know you and I don’t know what you think I’m about. But I’m not the bitch to be fucked with. Yo’ best bet is to back yo’ ass up ASAP!”
    He was buying into my confident act, so I continued. “What I suggest you do is take yo’ ass to sleep ’cause ain’t nothing going down over here. Understood?”
    I swear I tried to give him the death look that said if you touch me, I will rip your balls off and feed them to you. It must’ve worked because his face changed and he backed up in silence. Who knows? He had probably done this before. I guess he thoughtthat he was going to somehow punk me into having sex with him or letting him take advantage of me, but he’d picked the wrong one on the wrong night.
    To make matters worse, there was no other couch in the living room. Only some antique-looking chair that was uncomfortable to sit in, let alone sleep on.
    I knew that there was no way that he would waddle his big ass over to the chair to sleep, so I informed him of my rules. “I better not feel you so much as brush up against me if you plan to stay on this futon.”
    He mumbled something slick under his breath before rolling over in the opposite direction. I let out a slight sigh of relief but that was the worst night’s sleep I ever had. Technically, I did not sleep because I was too paranoid to actually close my eyes for more than a minute. There I was, lying in some dude’s house in Queens, in a desolate area, next to his lightweight rapist cousin, who was way larger than me. I had no clue how to get home even if I said “fuck it” and left. We were miles away from any main road where I could potentially have an opportunity to flee. I faced the wall and my mind kept replaying the incident. Each time I came up with other comments that I should have or could have said. My anger forced a stream of tears to drip down the side of my face. I felt trapped, vulnerable, and violated. My legs were clutched tightly to my chest. I mapped out my plan of attack in the event that he tried again. I could not put my finger on the one thing that made me feel the most uncomfortable, but the feelings were all too familiar and I never wanted to feel like that again.
    The next morning, I was mute. We piled in Mel’s car around nine. I had nothing to say to anyone during the ride to Jersey, Dev included. I was beyond pissed and they must have sensed it,so everyone left me alone. When we pulled up to our apartment, I hopped out, slammed the door, and made a beeline straight for the shower. I wanted to wash that night away.