April and Her Friends Ch. 11

"What do you suggest—give her a bath?" Brad said, scoffing.

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting!" Ian said hotly.

Brad shrugged. "Okay—go to it."

Ian drifted into the bedroom, looking down on the poor girl. He scooped her up in his arms, reassured that there was a kind of dreamy smile on her face. Taking her into the bathroom, he lowered her into the tub and started the hot water.

Tony came in a little later. "Hey, guy, I have some bubble bath powder. Maybe she'll like that." He handed Ian a plastic jar.

"That would be great!" Ian said, shaking a goodly amount of the powder into the bathtub.

Fairly soon, a great quantity of soapy bubbles filled the tub, and Ian took care to scrub April all over—breasts, stomach, belly, bottom, between her legs—with a soft brush while also taking some of the soap bubbles in his hands and washing her face. Throughout the process, the dreamy smile remained plastered on her face.

Tony and Dante were watching the procedure with bemusement. At a signal from Ian, they lifted April up out of the tub, holding her upright while Ian toweled her dry gently but thoroughly. Her skin was now a bright, rosy pink; and to Ian, at any rate, she was just about the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

As Ian swept her up in his arms, Tony said, "Better let her sleep it off."

But Ian wasn't so sure about that. As he gazed at April, he was alarmed by her closed eyes and slack-jawed expression. Looking around agitatedly, he said:

"I think we'd better . . ."

*

Melody rushed to the hospital as soon as she got the call from April.

She found April in a room at the University of Washington Medical Center. She seemed okay, sitting up in her bed and fiddling with her phone. As she burst into the room, she cried:

"April, my God! What happened?"

April looked up placidly, although bemused by her friend's agitation.

"Nothing happened. I'm just—"

"What do you mean, nothing happened?" Melody almost shrieked. "People don't wind up in the hospital for nothing!"

"Just stop freaking out, okay? I don't even know what happened. I mean, I passed out and found myself here—that's it."

"Passed out? How? Where?"

"I was at the Delti Pi frat house last night."

A sinking feeling came over Melody. "What the hell were you doing there?" She well knew of its reputation as a place where women could be in danger.

"I thought there was going to be a party there, but there wasn't."

"So you decided to have your own party?" Melody said snidely, making gestures of someone drinking robustly.

"I didn't have anything to drink," April said, mildly offended. "Not alcohol, anyway."

"Then why did you pass out?"

Only now did April look a bit mortified. "Well, you see, Melody, I just saw myself sitting around with all these guys, and . . ." She trailed off.

"You ended up sleeping with one of them?" Melody said, outraged. "Just like that?"

"Not just one," April had to admit.

"More than one?" Melody said, outraged. "How many, then?"

"Well, um . . ." April stammered, "I guess all of them."

"All of them?" Melody cried in a frantic whisper. "How many is that?"

"Fourteen or fifteen, I think."

"You had sex," Melody said with extreme precision, "with fourteen guys? One after the other?"

"Two at a time in some cases."

"Two at a time?"

"You know—front and back."

Melody wrapped her arms around her stomach as if she had swallowed something painful. Her sphincter contracted involuntarily.

"And I think," April said, figuring that she might as well provide full disclosure, "most of the guys came back for seconds."

Melody looked at April in bewildered awe. "You had sex twenty, twenty-five times in one night? No wonder you ended up in the hospital!"

"Oh, I'm fine," April said dismissively. "They're only keeping me here for observation. There's nothing wrong with me. I'm just a little—sore, that's all."

"I bet you are. But, April, you have to report this! You can't let these guys get away with something like that!" It's called a gangbang, isn't it?

"What on earth for? I wanted them to do it."

"You wanted them?" Melody said with heavy skepticism.

"Sure. I told them that. They were all welcome. There was this one cute guy—"

"April, I'm not having any of this. You weren't in your right mind. No one wants to fuck that many guys all at once."

"Oh? Well, I did—and I'm glad I did." She sounded both unconvincing and mulishly defiant.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. The doctors checked me over."

"Didn't they want you to report it? They must have known—"

"Of course they knew! But I refused. There's no way I'm going to get those guys in trouble for something I specifically asked them to do."

"But why, April? Why did you want to do something like that?"

"Why not? I like pleasing guys." She chuckled to herself. "You remember that old Greek myth about Hercules servicing fifty young girls in one night? Ha! What a laugh! There's no guy on earth who could do that—not even Kumar or Rohit. After about five or six tries, they'd poop out. I'm talking about actually coming—any guy could stick his dick into fifty girls one after the other if he didn't have to come. But I, on the other hand, made fourteen guys come—and made most of them come twice—all by myself in one night! So who's the superior sex, hm?"

"April, I think you're crazy."

April was going to make some forceful rebuttal when Ian MacGregor floated into the room.

He was going to greet April when he saw Melody sitting in a chair next to her. Almost jumping out of his skin, he came close to running away when April hailed him.

"Oh, hi, Ian!" Turning to Melody: "This is the cute guy I was mentioning."

Ian turned crimson—not only from the unexpected compliment, but from Melody glaring balefully at him. So you're the one who's responsible . . .

"Hey, April," he said in a virtually inaudible voice. "I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"I'm find—splendid," April said, although in truth she looked far from splendid. "Did you bring me here?"

"Yeah. I thought—well, you know, just to be on the safe side. Wanted to make sure nothing was wrong."

"You're sweet." Again to Melody: "Isn't he sweet?"

"Yeah, real sweet," Melody said, her voice thick with sarcasm.

"He's from Scotland," April said brightly.

"I can tell," April said.

"I'd better go," Ian said, already halfway out of the room. "Just checking . . ."

"Don't be a stranger!" April cried to his retreating form.

There was an awkward pause as the two women gazed at each other. April was clearly intent on maintaining a posture of prideful accomplishment, while Melody was intent on rebuking her friend for utter moral depravity. Look, I can imagine being with one, or even two, guys you actually care for—like Kumar and Rohit—but this . . .

"When are they going to let you out?" Melody said quietly.

"Tomorrow. I could probably walk out right now, but they want to do some more tests." She laughed shakily. "You'd think I'd been poked and prodded enough already!"

"April, stop that," Melody said sharply. "This isn't funny."

"Sorry."

Melody got up. "Listen, I think there are going to have to be some changes when you get out. You're—you're not well."

"I'm perfectly fine! I told you, I'm just a little sore—"

"I meant, you're not well in your mind, your psyche."

"Oh, don't give me that, Miss High-and-Mighty!"

This was probably the closest the two longtime friends had had to an argument, and it was upsetting to both of them. Melody swallowed hard and said:

"April, dear, I care so much about you. I don't want you to be sad."

"I'm not sad!" But the vehemence of her words actually emphasized their falsity.

"I'll help you—we'll help you." Me and Rohit.

"Not sure I need your help," April said sulkily.

"We'll see about that," Melody said, and left the room.