To say that Devon was caught off guard by this little change in Teddy's demeanor was so much an understatement that it had to be closer to a lie. Was there another word or phrase for 'caught off guard' that also expressed terror and humiliation? She couldn't think of one – not while she was thinking of his hand under her skirt, right where it didn't belong. There wasn't a reaction for this programmed into her brain because nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She didn't think any boy would ever have the nerve to do something so vile to a lady, especially without her permission – and the words that accompanied his action weren't much better. What was he doing? How could he think this was okay? And more importantly, what was she supposed to do about it?

“Teddy,” she said, her voice lacking the authority and sureness that her words were always fullwith. For once in Devon's life, she didn't know. “I don't know what you think you're doing. I didn't say...” she began to utter, trying like hell to sound like herself but failing with every word... and even in her shock, she knew she was failing. Still, she tried again.

“I'm not going to do that. I don't want to,” she said – but she didn't move and, against all odds, her words were laced with something like a giggle. Why would she be giggling now, when ever muscle in her stomach was tightening to rock and Teddy was suggesting (and doing) such awful things? It was totally beyond her control - she couldn't stop. She was being totally violated and she was laughing. She hated him, and she hated herself, and, right then, she wished she were dead.

In the moment, her biggest fear was that he was going to disregard what she was saying. He had been disregarding everything she was saying up until then, she realized, and there was no reason why the trend wouldn't continue now that she was giggling and staring at his hand under her dress. She didn't want him to see her – that was her biggest fear right then. If he went any further, and moved her dress a little more, and revealed anything else, he'd see her body, and he'd know how hideous she was, and he'd tell people... and for some totally irrational reason, that would be worse than if he just took advantage of her right there on the stone. All she wanted to do was summon the part of her that had been able order him to do things. He was always quick to comply. Somehow, that power was lost under the chime of her hysterical giggles and her nerves and the fact that she wasn't the expert in this domain. She felt stupid, and she wasn't stupid. She hated anyone who made her feel that way.

“I'm never speaking to you again,” she threatened, though she was still giggly. She sounded like an eight year old: If you keep doing that, I won't be your friend anymore - trying to get the other children to bend to her will by bargaining with the most precious thing she had – the gift of herself.