Brock was sitting on the edge of his bed, slouched over, concentrating on peeling the skin off an apple with a paring knife. "Ouch!" he mumbled when he nicked the tip of his thumb, causing a few droplets of blood to drip onto his lap. "Careful," his mom cautioned, as she walked into his room with a clean load of laundry, handing him a small wash cloth to press to the wound.
Brock smiled, and nodded. "I'm good, Mom. No big deal," he said, adding, "So, you and Dad still going out tonight?"
"Yes. We have reservations at 21 Oceanfront in Newport Beach. Then we plan to take a romantic stroll along the shore, as the sun is setting," she cooed.
"Cool," Brock said.
When his mom walked out, Brock began to make evening plans of his own.
"Hi Gia," he said to his newly acquired girlfriend.
"Hey, Brock. What's up?" she responded, seeing his name on her cell.
"You want to get together later? My place? You know, just hang out, order some pizza, and watch a movie?" he wondered, hoping her response would be a positive one.
"Yeah, sure. Sounds fun," Gia answered.
Not long after his parents left, Gia pulled up in front of Brock's house, feeling a little nervous about being alone with Brock. Recently, he had been making comments about when they might 'you know, do it', but Gia wasn't ready for that step in their relationship. She wanted to be in love, and better yet, married, before making such a commitment.
During the movie, they munched on pizza while cuddling on the pillow-ladened living room floor. And, all during that time, not once did Brock make an inappropriate move. So when Brock told Gia that there was something in his room he'd like to show her, she did not hesitate. She trusted him.
In his bedroom, Brock firmly grasped Gia's waist and pulled her down onto the bed, right on top of him.
"No, Brock. I don't want to do this." she said, trying to be polite.
He flipped her over, pressing himself into her.
"Seriously! Stop!" she raised her voice.
"I know you want it," Brock said, matter-of-factly.
"Get off!" Gia began to feel panicked.
Brock reached down, trying to unbutton her jeans, just as Gia kneed him in the groin.
"Fuck!" he yelled. "What the hell?!
Gia slipped out from under him, trying to get off the bed, and away from his grip. But Brock grabbed her left arm, pulling her back towards him. Instinctively, she reached out with her right hand, hoping to steady herself on the bedside table. Instead, she felt the handle of a paring knife, and without thinking, she forcefully swung her hand forward, jamming the sharp instrument into Brock's eye.
Breathless, Gia ran out of the room, leaving his screams behind her. She ran out the front door, and to the curb, where she leaned over, firmly gripping her thighs, trying to control her labored breathing.
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