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would look different to them, that they would know. Joshua kissed me goodbye, and told me he would see me really soon, and then he left.
    And I never heard from him again.
     
    It took me some time to realise that I had been used by Joshua. He wouldn’t text me back, and blocked me on Myspace and MSN Messenger. I cried, a lot, and then I got angry. I was tempted to tell Rafe so that he could go and kick ten bells out of him, but I was so embarrassed. I’d been stupid, and I knew it. So when Rafe asked why I had needed him to cover for me, I just told him that I wanted to stay with Joshua and that everything was great. He’d know the truth eventually, but not until I was ready. I wanted Rosie; she was the only person who I could have told the truth to, but we still weren’t talking.
    Almost a week after spending the night with Joshua, I climbed into bed to watch Grease for the five millionth time, when the familiar ‘ding’ of a text message sounded from my phone, and I opened it, hoping it would be from Joshua, but it was Rafe.
    ‘We need you here, now!’
    It was cryptic. I hadn’t seen either of them in so long, but I knew there was something wrong, and I knew it was my Rosie. As I ran down the stairs, Dad met me in the hallway, and I stopped in my tracks at the look on his face, he knew something. “I’ll walk you there, princess.” He said solemnly, and that’s when I knew something terrible had happened.
    I didn’t ask Dad; I didn’t want to hear a word from anyone but my best friend. As we approached the Alvez house, we saw the police car, and Joaquin, talking to the officers out front. I found myself running into the house and up to Rosie’s room without a second thought. I burst through the door, to see her sitting, in a ball, in the corner on the other side of her bed. I stood still, not wanting to hear what had happened to put her in that state, but needing to know.
    Rafe appeared behind me and ushered me into the room, encouraging me over to his sister. I turned and looked into his eye, they were so full of both heartbreak and fury that I had to swallow down the vomit that rose in my throat. I knew what had happened to her.
    I approached Rosie slowly, and she moved to sit on her bed, she didn’t lift her head to look at me, not even once. She was broken.
    “What's happened, RoRo?” I asked quietly, as I sat on the bed. She didn’t respond. I reached out to take her hand in mine. “He forced you didn’t he?” I asked, tentatively, already knowing the answer.
    For the first time, she looked up at me, and I gasped. Her face was swollen and heavily bruised; her lip was split open and bloody. “Rosie.” A lump rose in my throat as she started to sob quietly. I wrapped my arms around her; I was going nowhere.
    Rosie’s attack happened on a Friday night. For the rest of that weekend, I stayed by her side, when Monday came, both my dad and Rosie’s called our school to tell them that we wouldn’t be going in. Once they knew what had happened to Rosie, they didn’t push for me to return, they knew she would need me.
    As the days passed by, Rosie eventually told me the details of the attack. Jonah had tried to get her to have sex with him, she’d told him that she wasn’t ready, but he said he was sick of waiting. He had already forced her to give him blowjobs and handjobs in his car, even though she hadn’t wanted to. I hated myself for being so distant; I should have been there to stop him.
    Jonah got so angry with Rosie when she denied him that he slapped her, and then dragged her out of his car by her hair. He was strong, and Rosie was tiny. He raped her; beat her, and laughed as he dumped her at her parents’ front door, a bloody mess.
    I found it difficult to process my anger. There was nothing that I could do to make it better for her. I had spent the previous few days crying because Joshua had used me and then lost interest, but he had never forced himself on to me. Taking that step