The Toybox

Dedication

For Mary McAfee – one of the strongest, bravest, most giving women I’ve ever known.

And

For Kerrie and Victoria – for everything.

Chapter One

Saturday, May 18

The thumping bass from the stereo reverberated through Rachel’s body and drove nails through her temple, and no matter where she moved in the house, the bass followed her. Having just reached the tail end of a nasty cold, she hadn’t really wanted to hit the frat party where the booze flowed freely, and for some, so did the drugs, but her friend Anna insisted she attend this epic celebration. Marking the end of finals, the end of her freshman year of college, and the beginning of summer break, it was the most anticipated bash of the year. How Anna had heard about the party before her was a mystery since she didn’t even attend the University of New Mexico. In the end it hadn’t taken much to convince Rachel since she wouldn’t normally have hesitated if she hadn’t been feeling under the weather.

Following Anna’s advice, she donned her shortest skirt – which was still two inches longer than the one Anna wore – and her new crimson halter top with the sparkly embroidered stars strategically placed to cover her breasts. She swiped on fire engine red lipstick, threw on a couple of coats of mascara, and dabbed her favorite perfume behind her ears and on her cleavage before determining she was ready. She didn’t need the full-length mirror to tell her she was walking sex in heels. Her family had hit the beauty jackpot, so she was used to – and sometimes craved – the appreciative stares from the men and envious ones from the women.

Within minutes of walking through the door, Anna ditched Rachel in favor of flirting with some pop star wannabe who looked to be stuck in the eighties with his bleached blond mullet, flipped-up collar, and scratched penny loafers. Rachel shook her head. Maybe Anna could convince the guy to fast forward to the new millennium at least. Sticking to the edges of the room, she sipped from the beer placed in her hand the second she’d hit the front door and headed to the only group of girls she recognized – even though she didn’t know a single one of them by name – but before she could reach them, they disappeared into the thick of the crowd. An hour later, she lost track of Anna completely. The last she’d seen her she’d been sneaking up the stairs with some guy who wasn’t the pop star wannabe.

Rachel lifted the blue plastic cup to her lips, trying to figure out when she’d gotten another beer. She vaguely recalled some guy wearing a wife-beater removing her empty cup. Maybe he’d handed her another? A sudden throbbing pain in her right temple coupled with an increasing heaviness in her limbs forced her to lean against a wall for balance. She was beginning to fear she’d been overly optimistic about being at the end of her cold. Clearly, coming to this party hadn’t been the greatest idea after all.