Guess Who?

Sunday dinner at Jess's grandparent's house was always a big deal: everyone dressed up, the meal was huge, and the invited attendee was always the guest of honor. I'd only begun coming about four months ago,  when his Uncle Carl decided to go skinny-dipping in the lake behind the house and had gotten bit by a turtle in a very "sensitive" area. He'd run screaming, dripping wet and naked, into the house. After that, I just wouldn't stay away.
A full moon wa out, shinning brightly, its twin rippling in the water as the various creatures under it move around. Jess and I are laying outside on the balcony, curled up on a blanket. I sigh.
"It's so peaceful."
Jess smiles and I curl up against him, laying my head on his chest. "Musch better than inside." he grimmaced. "Sorry 'bout Artie. Guess the kid just can't hold his liquor like we all thought he could."
I laugh, "Well, it was sweet of your grandmother to offer to wash my dress." I tug at the hem of the t-shirt that I was wearing. "And it was really sweet of you to give me your shirt."
"Well," Jess jokes in a prissy tone, "we can't have young ladies running around indecent. Especially when there are menfolk in the house."
I laugh again and Jess reaches down to kiss me. I lay my head on his chest, and he kissed my neck softly, rolling over and braching his arms on either side of my shoulders. His hands roam over my stomach, my bra, pulling the shirt over my head. His skin glows milky white in the moonlight, his face full of shadow. He looks at me, reaching down, his fingers brushing my thigh and I close my ees. Deep in my mind, I hear a slam, crying, and feel the pain of hands pinned against a rough wall.
"Stop! Stop!" I yell, pushing up against Jess's chest and he rolls off of me, surprised.
"Babygirl? You ok?" he asks, reaching out to stroke my hair, but I curl up like a centipede poked with a stick.
"Don't touch me. Just. Don't." I burrow my face into the bony flesh of my knees while my brain screams: Get out! Get out! My face burns and I stand quickly, grabbing my shirt, "I....go..." I mutter, rambling, trying to leave, my brain moving faster than my body possibly ever could.
"Baby?" Jess is on his knees, struggling to get his bearings, while I climb inside and pull on my shoes.
Get out. Get out.
There's a spurt of laughter in the living room; I head through the kitchen, out the back door where noone is sitting, and rush through the streets. At the edge of one street, I sit in the darkness beside someone's back fence, sink my teeth into my wrist to to keep from screaming, and cry.