The light leaking into the room fell directly across Nicole's face. It was hard to keep her eyes shut. She turned away from the window and opened her eyes. She felt better. More human, but she didn't feel like getting out of bed. She lay there on her side, trying to recall the events from the previous evening, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't piece the fragmented flashes of the night before into a linear story. When the alarm went off this morning, she expected Kike to be next to her. That's what she had planned. Where and when that plan deviated, she wasn't sure. Maybe that was a good thing. She counted to five in her mind and hoisted herself out of bed. Once her feet hit the cool wood floor, she felt more like a human. Maybe because she felt anything at all. She reached over to the bedside table and picked up her cell phone. She had 3 text messages:

Candy: Hey girl, Matt told me what happened. Call me I'm only working half a day. Love ya!

Linda:  I'm going into work. I want to plan the next unit for my AP class, let me know if you decide to come in so we can figure out AmLit. 

Matty D: You seemed okay so I didn't take you to the hospital, he put something in your drink. Ima call stache later, but it's for you to decide if you want to get cops involved. 2 guys were with you 310940721 4107634461

Nicole prided herself on her intuition. She knew her gut would tell her when something wasn't okay. There was no way someone drugged her. She walked to the desk in the corner of her living room. The computer was on, and she immediately googled "ruphy." She quickly learned it was spelled "roofie" and that it was short for Rohypnol, a kind of Valium. Apparently it causes slurred speech, memory loss, and was often used to curb withdrawal symptoms for cocaine. Unwilling to accept it, she x'ed out of her web browser and headed for the shower, hoping for both a physical and symbolic cleanse. 

After her shower, she dressed and did her hair and makeup, as if she was going out for the day, but took a seat on the couch. It was 12:45, and she didn't want to meet Linda for work, but she didn't want to stay in her apartment. She looked at her phone. No new calls or messages. She decided she would text Candace, since she would be off of work. They made plans to meet for lunch at the Auld Dubliner in downtown Long Beach. It was a nice walk for Nicole, and she was ready to burn off some steam. 

It was after one, but Nicole ordered the full Irish breakfast anyway, and an Irish coffee. Candace gave her the stink eye when she ordered an alcoholic beverage, but Nicole just shrugged and mumbled, "Hair of the dog?" 

"So, what are you going to do?" Candace asked.

"I don't know, Candy. I'm still not exactly sure what happened," she said. 

"Did you talk to the guys who were with you?"

"No." 

"Maybe they can fill in some gaps."

"I guess," she paused. "I guess, I'm embarrassed to call them."

"You didn't do anything wrong, girl. You're lucky, someone intervened."

"Tell that to your husband. Matt made me feel like shit, like I was asking for it."

"He's just overprotective and emotionally stunted."

The food arrived and Nicole tucked into her meal. She felt hungrier than she ever had. She shoveled forkful after forkful of food into her mouth. She barely stopped to breathe.  

"Slow down!" Candace laughed. "Want me to call them?"

"Who?" Nicole asked with a full mouth. 

"The guys."

"No."

"Are you going to file a police report?"

"And tell them what? I don't remember anything, but I think someone slipped me a mickey?"

"I mean, you have to do something, right?"

"Maybe I'll just be grateful that two guys were my Knights in Shining Armor."

"I guess you can call them and thank them." 

The girls finished their meal and Nicole walked Candace to her car. She thanked her for meeting her, and declined the ride home. Nicole wanted to walk more, and she decided to head to the beach. Maybe walking along the bike path would clear her mind. She kept trying to recall the events of the previous night, but struggled. She would go back to the last thing she remembered and tried to make some connections. It was frustrating how many gaps she had in the timeline. All of a sudden, she had a flash. A taller man with very blue eyes. She remembered slapping him. She wasn't sure why, but when it flashed in her mind, she remembered the sting on her hand. She felt very guilty. If that was who was helping her, why was she so mean to him? But really, could she even be accountable for her actions? 

She was half-way home on her beach path route when she paused near a pier piling along the marina, and in a bout of courage, she pulled out her phone and opened Matt's text message. She tapped on the first hyperlinked phone number. Not sure what she would say, or even who she would ask for, or even if someone would answer, but she held her breath. It rang six times before an automated message picked up. "I'm sorry, but the person you called has a voice mailbox that has not been set up yet. Goodbye." The recorded voice sounded and the phone disconnected. Thankful that she didn't actually have to talk to someone, she returned the phone to her bag. She felt like she had made enough of an attempt to contact the people who helped her, and she was satisfied and relieved. A little less stressed, she continued her way home. 

No sooner did she reach the front of her apartment building, the phone started buzzing in her purse. A little afraid the man she had called earlier decided to return her call, she was pleased to see Joel's name flash across the screen. 

"Hey!" she answered with a smile. 

"Nicole, Matt told me what happened. Are you okay?" I'm picking up Kaylee from work. We're going to come over."

"Joel, I am fine. I don't remember anything, nothing happened."

"Did you call the police?"

"And tell them what?"

"That someone tried to drug and rape you?"

"I don't even know who that someone is, and I don't know for sure."

"Well, did you go to the bar and tell them what happened? I'm sure they have cameras?"

"No. I don't even know what happened, Joel. I am fine. It's good. Be happy."

"You need to go back to the bar and at least let them know that kind of stuff is happening there. They don't want that kind of publicity."

"Yes dad."

"Someone needs to dad you. I am going to kill Matt for leaving you there!"

"Hello! I am 39 years old. I can make decisions for my life. I don't need you or Matt trying to protect me. Goddamn. I have to go," and with that Nicole ended the call, and walked into the main entrance of her building. She felt her phone buzz in her hands, but she had heard enough from Joel and just let it ring. 

Nicole had known Joel basically their entire lives. They had gone through elementary school and up together. They became closer friends after Nicole's father's suicide when they were eight, and she refused to speak for a year. No one wanted to sit next to, or play with the weird girl who didn't speak. Joel didn't seem to mind. He sat next to her at lunch every day and played with her at every recess. Nicole didn't speak, so he always got his way. The friendship stayed very strong. She spent many days and nights with Joel and his family. Nicole's mother struggled to cope with her father's death and turned to alcohol. Their partnership expanded in high school when Joel and Matt were in a punk band together. Overtime, Matt adopted Joel's overprotective persona. The three of them had gone through many ups and downs, and while they lived in different parts of town, they spoke every day. After Nicole's mother died, Matt and Joel, and their significant others, became her only family. She was lucky. Not many people in her shoes would have a surrogate family like she did, and even if they were horribly overprotective and constantly in her business, she was thankful for it. 

Nicole entered her apartment and sat down on the couch. Maybe some mindless reality show on Bravo would clear her mind, or pass the time. Her phone rang again, and she still refused to answer it. She didn't want to call the police. She was slightly embarrassed, and just thankful nothing did happen. That was enough for her. The phone stopped ringing, but a few seconds later a text message rang through. 

Joel: At least go to The Stache and let them know. Please. For me. I will come over there and make you.

She tapped her reply back

Nicole: Okay, please don't drive all the way here. I'm fine. I'm going right now. 

Leaving the TV on, Nicole grabbed her keys and headed out the door. She knew she wouldn't be long; the bar was only across the street. She hustled across the street, avoiding traffic. And quickly flung open the door to the bar. At a quick glance, there were only two patrons, one at the bar and one at the jukebox. She was relieved that she would have an opportunity to recount her spotty story in almost private. Her thoughts were broken by a loud sigh. 

"You're back too!" Marcus the bartender whined in frustration. 

"What are you talking about?" Nicole tried to laugh it off. 

"When most people get kicked out of a bar, they don't come back. At least for a while," Marcus responded. 

JC was the patron standing at the bar. He had been eyeing Marcus, who had been flipping through papers in a small tin box. He turned toward the door at Marcus' comment and saw Nicole walking towards them. She definitely had better balance today, her eyes were brighter, her light brown hair looked freshly washed and hung down just past her shoulders in beachy waves. She had a pair of light wash jeans that hugged her curves nicely and a gray v-neck t-shirt that hung loosely in all the right place, revealing enough of her chest to be seductive, but still casual and effortless. She had the same tan Birkenstocks, which struck JC as an odd fashion choice for any woman in a bar, even this ridiculous one. Nicole walked toward both men and made eye contact with JC. Instinctually, he smiled a hello at her, but she seemed to disregard it, and turned straight to Marcus. 

"That's why I'm here, I wanted to talk to someone about last night."

Marcus ignored her and kept flipping through cards and papers in the small tin box. 

"I mean, I don't plan on ever coming back here, someone put something in my drink here last night."

Marcus looked at her, and then turned back to JC. There was a long pause. Nicole didn't say anything more, and Marcus continued to eye JC. 

JC finally registered what the look meant. "It wasn't me!" JC raised both hands with a shrug. "I just saw it happen."

"What?" Nicole asked, confused. 

"I saw the guy put something in your drink. That's why I hit it out of your hands."

"You don't know this guy?" Marcus asked.

Nicole looked at him for a few seconds, trying to will her brain to make some kind of connection. His eyes were very blue and kind of wide set. His facial features were very pronounced. He had the start of a beard that, while it was growing in full and evenly, the gray in it made it look patchy. His hair was dark and slicked back, and the curls at the ends were splaying in different directions at the back of his neck. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit and black shirt and tie, with black sneakers that weirdly looked enough like dress shoes to pull the look off. He was attractive in a nontraditional way. He was also strangely familiar to her, like she had seen him before, but obviously he had saved her last night, so she had seen him before. 

Nicole realized she had been staring and averted her eyes. "What are you doing here today?" She asked him.

"I left my credit card." He replied, still looking at her. She recognized him. He was sure of it. He was just waiting to see what reaction she would have. Would she say something point-blank, would she "oh my god" a bunch of times, or would she laugh or ask for a selfie? 

"Oh," she mumbled and turned back to Marcus. "Well, I was with a guy named Kike. I guess I feel like you guys should know that Kike likes to drug women." 

"I- I...um... I don't really know what to say. Um, can I get your information, so I can let the owner know?" Marcus pulled out a strip of receipt paper from the register and handed it over to her with a pen. Nicole wrote down her name and phone number, and pushed the paper and pen back across the bar counter. 

She then turned her attention to JC. "I tried to call you, or your friend, earlier today. The voicemail wasn't working or something. 

"That was me," JC told her. "I don't listen to messages, so I never set it up." Why was he telling her this? He had no idea. 

"Well, I guess I owe you a thank you." 

"Here it is!" Marcus found what he was looking for and handed JC back his credit card wrapped in a receipt. "We add 30% gratuity to any cards left here."

"Great," JC mumbled.

Nicole took a few steps towards the door and JC followed. He held it open for her and they both stepped outside. 

"Is there something I can do to, like, repay the favor?"

"No, I'm just glad you're safe."

"Okay, well, thank you." She turned and took a few steps to the corner. JC was headed in the same direction, so she let him fall in step with her. "And thank your friend for me too. Matt, my friend, said there were two of you." 

"Yeah, my buddy Mitchel and I had come here for a drink last night," JC explained. "Good thing too, I supposed," he laughed awkwardly. 

"Yeah." She smiled, and they continued to walk in the same direction together. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Josh," he answered, and he stopped walking. "And, you're Nicole, am I right?" 

"Yeah," She stopped and looked at him. He was more handsome in the light of day. "Oh, and I think I owe an apology. I slapped you, didn't I?" Her cheeks reddened. 

JC touched his face as he remembered the sting of the blow. "Yeah, you did," he chuckled. His eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled.

She smiled back and started walking toward the corner, so she could cross and head home. He followed behind her. "I'm so sorry. But I was drugged, so you can't hold me completely responsible."

"You going to call the police?" He asked, concerned. 

"No. I don't think so. I didn't go to the hospital, and I don't even know what his full name is." 

The light changed and they walked across the street. 

"You're not afraid he could do this to another girl?" he asked. 

"That's why I went back to the bar. I'm sure he's a regular. Everyone there is."

"Niche crowd for Thursday night. Who goes to see a Smiths DJ?" 

"Yeah, right?" she smiled. "So, you live around here?" She asked him.

"No. I'm in town for a thing at the convention center. I'm giving a talk in about an hour. I don't normally wear a suit and tie." He lifted the tie off of his chest and waved it at her. 

"Suits you," she smiled with a wink. "Where's your car?"

"At the hotel. I walked here," JC patted his stomach, "I don't get to exercise much these days," he laughed. "But I'm gonna Uber to the convention center." He stopped walking, and Nicole stopped as well. "Nicole," he reached his hand out to shake hers. "It was nice to meet you, and I'm very glad to see you today in much better shape than last night. It was a little scary." 

Nicole reached for his hand, but pulled him into a hug. He leaned down and complied. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear, sending a small current through his body. "For everything." She released her embrace, and JC took a step back, eyeing her awkwardly, surprised by his body's reaction to her. "You know what?" She announced, interrupting his thoughts.  Let me drive you to the convention center," she was excited to be able to do something to help him. 

"No, no it's fine, thank you though." 

"No, for reals, it's so easy. This is my building, my car is right here. Legit, it's the least I can do. Let me help you." She smiled. "C'mon," she grabbed the arm of his suit coat and started dragging him behind her toward the garage door of the large apartment complex they were standing in front of. He acquiesced and followed behind her. She walked him straight to a dark blue, older model Jeep. She pressed a button on her keys and the doors unlocked. JC took the passenger seat and Nicole hopped in, quickly started the car, and pulled out of her spot. She headed in the direction of the convention center, only a short mile away. 

"What's the conference? Or Convention?" She asked him. 

"It's a music education thing."

"Oh. Cool. You teach? I'm a high school teacher."

"No. I'm a sing-Musician. What do you teach?"

"Cool. English. You play any instruments? I can't play music to save my life. My two good friends were in a band growing up. I'm just a groupie," she laughed. 

JC cringed at the groupie comment, and while he thought she had recognized him early, he seemed to be sure now that she hadn't, or if she had, she wasn't going to say anything. It was kind of nice being anonymous, but he was still cautious. "I play a little of everything. Working on the back end these days with new artists."

"Yeah, anyone I've heard of?"

"Probably not."

It was clear he wasn't going to name-drop in front of her, so Nicole felt certain he probably worked with someone kind of big. She let it go, though. The ride was quick. She promptly pulled up to the main entrance of the convention center. Traffic wasn't too bad and there was space in a loading zone. JC thanked her and got out of the car. He no sooner shut the door, than he turned and knocked on the window. Nicole rolled it down.

"Hey. You got my number. You should think about calling the police. You can give them my info, or if you need anything, just call, okay?" 

"Okay. Thank you again. And tell your friend too. My heroes!" she winked and smiled. 

He smiled back and patted the door frame two times before turning around. Nicole watched him walk away. He made it a few steps up to the convention center before a small group of women stopped him. She watched them talk to him. He shook their hands and one of them women pulled out her phone. The small group crowded around him and posed for a selfie. Nicole wasn't sure what she was watching, but she laughed a little in spite of herself and headed home.