High School — Senior Year
Silence had fallen. The quiet was eerie; I wasn’t used to it. The house was always creaking, groaning, breathing. Like something lived in the walls, dragging its nails down the old boards, pressing its shoulders against the underside of the floor.
As a child, I believed this house was haunted. Now I knew better, but I still heard things that weren’t there — phantom noises in the silence. Was I losing my mind? Had something in me finally cracked?
Considering I was seated on the floor with my back beneath my window, facing my door as I flipped my butterfly knife between my fingers, maybe I was right. Maybe my brain had broken.
It was scary how calm I felt.
The stairs creaked with footsteps, and I stiffened. Boots pounded down. There was the sound of a belch, and the refrigerator door squeaked as it opened. Glass clinked; there was a hiss and the tap-tip-tap of a bottle cap hitting the floor.
It was seven in the fucking morning. There was no food in the fridge, but there was a 24-pack of beer and a handle of whiskey. Dad had been gone for nearly six months and I’d been foolish enough to think he would actually stay away this time.
There was no getting rid of him unless he was dead.
The footsteps moved back toward the stairs, but then they passed them. They came down the hall, and a shadow moved under my door. His breathing was heavy, grunting and huffing with drunkenness.
Come on, motherfucker. Try me. I fucking dare you.
There were scratches on the floor from where I used to shove my dresser in front of the door to barricade it. But it wasn’t even locked now. I should have left it wide open to make my invitation a little clearer.
I dare you to try it. Try to hurt me. See what happens.
The heavy boots shuffled and stomped away, and I exhaled slowly. The knife’s handle dug into my palm as I gripped it tightly. I’d been ready. I would have done it. I would have killed my father…sliced open his throat and severed his jugular…stabbed him until his chest caved in…strewn his guts around the house like a goddamn work of art.
Dropping my head into my hands, I gripped my hair until it hurt. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I didn’t…
Fucking hell, but I did. After so many years of being afraid, cringing every time I heard him speak, ducking my head around him, keeping my voice down — it had been a long time coming.
But why bother now? I was a snake with its head cut off, twisting and writhing in the dirt, dead jaws still snapping. Why keep fighting? Was it instinct, primality demanding I survive? The easiest solution would have been to let myself die years ago, but I was still here.
That social worker, Kathryn Peters, said I just needed to hold on a little longer. Part of me didn’t believe she’d do a goddamn thing. No one in my life had ever bothered to help me, so why should she? She claimed she would find me housing, a job. She said she would find someplace safe. I was too old for the foster system; I didn’t qualify for youth shelters. She said she might be able to find a room for me in Memphis; but if that fell through, she’d have to look even further away.
I’d told her I wouldn’t go if it meant leaving them.
Lucas, Jason, Vincent…I couldn’t leave them. We stuck together, always. I could give up everything else but not them. And not…
Her.
Why the hell did I think of her?
I meant nothing to her. Less than nothing. She should have been the last thing on my mind.
The thought of getting up and going to school, when seconds ago, I’d been ready to murder my dad, seemed ludicrous. But I got up, grabbed my backpack from the corner, and hauled it over my shoulder. Mrs. Peters — she insisted I call her Kathy, like she was trying to be relatable — said I needed to stay out of trouble, and that meant continuing to attend high school despite it being a complete shitshow.
Dad may have gone back upstairs, but I still wasn’t going to walk out the front door. I shoved open my window and dropped my bag out, then swung my legs out after it. My boots crunched in the dry weeds as I trudged across the yard toward my SUV. Discarded beer cans, cigarette butts, and piles of junk were strewn everywhere, and the entire place smelled faintly of rotten food. It was probably the overflowing garbage piled next to the garage, which was similarly filled with junk.
Luckily, my Bronco started on the first try. It was having issues again, and Lucas and I intended to look under the hood that weekend to figure out what was up. Hopefully, whatever part needed to be replaced wasn’t too expensive, or we could try rummaging around for whatever we needed at the junkyard again.
The parking lot at Wickeston High was nearly full when I pulled in. The bell hadn’t rung yet and many seniors were hanging around their cars, shouting to each other over the loud music playing from multiple vehicles. My tires screeched as I whipped the wheel around, pulling into an empty spot near the back corner of the lot next to a black El Camino.
Lucas loved that car, rusted out and thrashed as it was. He claimed he’d make it into a beast one day, a drag racer that couldn’t be beat. I was just glad to hear him talking about the future.
Lucas, Vincent, and Jason were seated in the El Camino’s bed, and Lucas raised his arm in greeting as I got out of the Bronco and climbed in with them.
“Thought you would be late again, fucker,” he said, taking a long drag on his cigarette. He wasn’t supposed to be here on campus, but being told not to do something had never stopped him before. He took a pack of American Spirits out of his jeans and offered me one, and I lit up gratefully. The burn of tobacco hitting my throat and a quick hit of nicotine soon made me feel a little more human.
Vincent was high as hell, one arm around Jason, as the blue-haired boy’s fingers flew over the keys of his laptop. I tapped Jason’s foot with mine but he barely looked up, his bloodshot eyes focused solely on the screen.
“AP Physics is going to kill me,” he said as Vincent rubbed his back reassuringly. I leaned my shoulder against Lucas as I smoked, sighing heavily when I noticed Principal Lector coming across the parking lot toward us with a security guard behind him.
The others spotted him right after I did. Vincent hurriedly removed his arm from Jason’s shoulders, then the two of them climbed out of the bed. I stood up, dragging my backpack with me as I hopped out.
Lucas took his time.
Principal Lector stopped at the back of the car and tapped his pen against the metal. I had no idea why he was carrying a fucking pen out here; maybe he thought it made him look professional, like his annoying-as-hell habit of referring to all of us by our last names.
“Mr. Bent…” he began, but cut off when Lucas stood up. He hopped out of the El Camino’s bed, crushing his cigarette under his shoe.
“Don’t touch my fucking car again, Michael,” he said, and the principal blinked repeatedly at the careless use of his first name. “If you want me to leave, then get the hell out of my way.”
We all moved back, and I gave Lucas a wave as he started his engine and threw the car into reverse. It lurched out of the parking space, the tires leaving a trail of burnt rubber on the asphalt as he peeled out of the parking lot.
Principal Lector’s accusatory gaze was on me, but I really couldn’t care less. Staying out of trouble wasn’t all that simple when trouble simply existed around me and I was caught in the crossfire.
“You’ve been warned before about smoking on campus, Mr. Reed,” he said. Vincent and Jason were lingering, waiting for me to join them so we could walk together. I clenched my jaw, keeping back words that would have only made this worse. “That’ll be detention for you. Again.”
I smiled tightly. “Sick. Cool shit. Can I go?”
The principal sighed, as if I’d exasperated him already. “Language, Mr. Reed. Don’t be late.” I turned to go and had only caught up with Jason and Vincent when Lector called Jason back. Vincent waited for him, throwing up a peace sign as I kept walking. I only caught what the principal was saying, but I heard, “…concerned. I would hate to see your future suffer because of a poor choice in friendships. You’re clearly dealing with some confusion…”
My hand tightened on my backpack’s strap as I dug my nails into my palm.
You’re confused.
You’re rebelling.
This is a stage you’ll outgrow.
You’re a fucked-up disappointment.
Pussy. Fucking freak.
After a while, they all sounded the same. People disguising bigotry and judgment as concern.
I hated them all. I hated this entire fucking town.
My shoes squeaked on the linoleum floors as I headed to my locker, shoved and jostled by the hundreds of students crowding the hallways. I put in my earbuds and turned my volume up, blasting Night Bird’s “Born to Die in Suburbia” loudly enough to drown them all out.
Most people ignored me. I had my group of friends, and I was on good terms with the school’s other rejects. The jocks and the privileged popular fucks had better things to do than harass me — most of the time. They’d gotten used to the mohawk and the dirty clothes; I was no longer the most entertaining target to go after.
At least, I wasn’t for most people. Some individuals couldn’t get enough of making me their personal punching bag.
Turning the corner toward my locker, I grimaced. Kyle Baggins and Alex McAllister were there, crowding around the locker next to mine, waiting for Kyle’s girlfriend — or ex-girlfriend now, since he’d cheated on her. I hung back, hoping they’d leave so I could get my shit. But they weren’t going anywhere, and the last thing I needed was to be late again.
Kyle didn’t move as I approached. He shifted around, turning to face me and blocking my locker with his shoulders. He said something and Alex laughed. My earbuds blocked it.
“Move,” I said. The words were too sharp but also not sharp enough. I wasn’t trying to start shit, but my intentions didn’t matter. These fuckers knew they could overpower me without a problem.
I wasn’t even scared of them anymore. I was numb, as if my chest had been hollowed out and all that remained was a vast, cold, dark space.
Alex yanked my headphones out of my ears. The motion pulled my phone out of my pocket, sending it flying through the air as the headphone jack disconnected, and it fell to the floor.
“Late again, freak?” Kyle laughed as Alex kicked my phone and sent it skittering toward the stairway. I forced myself not to react. It was just a phone. It didn’t matter. Better than my face.
“The fuck do you need your books for?” Alex said, pocketing my earbuds as if he needed the damn things. “Studying for your bright future?” They chuckled at each other — a gross cycle of reinforcing their own piss-poor jokes.
Kyle had moved enough for me to get into my locker. It forced me to stand right between them.
Kyle’s eyes were boring into my side as he stared at me. “What are you wearing?”
Don’t react. Books in the bag. Head up, no eye contact.
A heavy hand slammed against my back, banging my head on the edge of the open locker. I sucked in my breath as something warm trickled down the side of my head, but I didn’t wipe it away. My jaw clenched as Kyle got in my face, but I was determined not to say a damn word.
“I said, what are you fucking wearing? Prancing around here in a skirt like a goddamn pussy?”
But I wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. Over his shoulder, I saw her coming and allowed myself a cocky, self-indulgent smile as she came up behind him.
“It’s a kilt, Kyle; he’s wearing a kilt. God, you’re such a dumbass. Move out of my way.”
Jessica shoved Kyle aside to get to her locker. Her blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail, silver glitter shimmering around her eyes. She was wearing her cheer uniform, the one with long sleeves and a short skirt. She stood up on her tiptoes to reach the top of her locker and I couldn’t help staring as her shirt rode up, baring her stomach for a moment.
It physically hurt how beautiful she was. How untouchable.
“The fuck is a kilt?” Alex said. Kyle was frowning deeply, as if he was trying to figure out the same thing.
Jess barely glanced at me as she got her things, slamming her locker shut and stuffing a notebook into her bag. Kyle was clearly trying to think of something to say to her, then began, “Hey, babe, you know that I —”
“Shut. Up.” She whirled around, glaring at him. “Save your excuses. You’re not going to talk your way out of this one. You wanted to be with Veronica so damn badly…Well, now you’ve got her. Have fun, asshole.”
She marched away, and I stared after her. All was not well in Popular Kid Paradise. I couldn’t imagine having a woman like that and cheating on her. Hell, I couldn’t imagine cheating on someone in general. Lucas and I had come to the conclusion pretty easily that the intimacy between us didn’t require monogamy; just respect. We’d already agreed that we’d be fucking other people too, but that was different than sneaking around and hurting each other.
Jess deserved better than that. She was a stuck-up bitch and a spoiled-rotten brat…but shit, maybe she wouldn’t be if she wasn’t constantly around such awful people.
Alex and Kyle were still talking, as Kyle whined that it wasn’t his fault. “She stopped putting out, man. What the hell did she expect? That I’m just going to wait around until her cunt thaws out? She’s been a fucking bitch lately.”
I slammed my locker far too hard. I wasn’t shocked in the least that Jessica had stopped having sex with him. She’d probably get more care from a literal rock than this meathead. I’d seen them together, watched them make out, watched them fuck. That made me sound like such a creep, but it was hard not to see it when they’d have sex in Kyle’s truck right after a game. What was I supposed to do — avert my eyes?
Kyle had the emotional range of a toothpick. The fact that he blamed Jessica for that enraged me.
Another hard shove knocked me against the locker again, but this time, Alex kept his hand against my back as he snarled, “What do you think you’re staring at, Reed? Perving out at Kyle’s girl?”
Kyle’s expression was livid as he cracked his knuckles. He wanted to take out his anger on someone. Big fucking surprise.
“Pretty sure she made it clear she’s not his girl anymore,” I said. Alex gripped my jacket, wrenched me back and slammed me forward again. It knocked the air out of my lungs, and I laughed. “You lost the hottest girl in this school because you can’t keep your dick in your pants and I’m the perv? Fucking pathetic.”
Kyle’s face darkened. Alex shoved me to the floor, but I caught myself as I went down. I was back on my feet in an instant and sprinting down the hallway, dodging around the few students still lingering outside of classrooms. Kyle and Alex were right behind me, shoes smacking loudly on the floor as they ran. I turned down the next hall and kept going, while people stared at me in confusion.
So much for not being late to class.
I had to find somewhere to hide. I burst through the first door I saw — the women’s bathroom, shit — but it was my only option. The door swung shut behind me, and I retreated to the furthest stall, closing the door and perching on top of the toilet so my shoes wouldn’t be seen. At least it was empty in here. I didn’t need more trouble.
I waited for what felt like an eternity, but no one burst in. Kyle and Alex must have lost me, or they were waiting outside the door for me to emerge. But I could wait them out. I was skipping one class already; what was the harm in skipping a few more?
Graduation didn’t matter at this point anyway.
I reached into my jacket and pulled out my one remaining cigarette. I usually bummed them off Lucas and tried to make them last, but damn it, I needed this. Once the adrenaline and anger faded away, anxiety was all I had left, and it fucking sucked.
I lit up, blowing the smoke out the narrow window above the toilet. It would still stink up the restroom, but whatever. The numbness in my chest was spreading to my limbs, my head; I was running out of fucks to give.
I cared far too much, but I also didn’t care enough. The encroaching apathy scared me, the strange feeling of disregard for my own well-being bringing me back to my thoughts from earlier that morning.
Was I losing it? Was my mind cracking? Kathy claimed she was going to help me but part of me felt like it was too late. I didn’t have a future…didn’t need one either.
But I was still fighting. On instinct, driven by survival, my primate brain demanded that I try. I was just so goddamn tired.
The restroom door slammed open, and I stiffened as feet tapped across the tile floor. One of the sinks turned on, the rush of trickling water not enough to cover the sound of a shaking sob. I stepped down from the toilet and peered through the gap in the stall.
It was Jessica. She was hunched over the sink, gripping the porcelain with her head bowed. Tears dripped down her cheeks in the mirror, her lips trembling as she drew them together and then exhaled slowly.
She composed herself. Straightened up, dabbed her reddened eyes with a tissue and delicately blew her nose. She sniffed again, and in the reflection, her eyes narrowed.
“Who the hell is smoking in here?” she snapped. Any hint of sadness was gone from her voice as she whirled around. Her green eyes were livid. Her posture made it clear she was ready to make someone’s life a living hell for daring to see her when she was vulnerable. I didn’t say a word as she stomped out of my sight, and one of the stall doors violently slammed open. “Who’s in here?”
With a sigh, before she could get to my stall, I stepped out.
For a moment, she looked confused. I carefully stubbed out my cigarette, not wanting to waste any of it before I tucked it away.
“What are you doing here?” Her gaze darted up and down my body, her eyes lingering in places they shouldn’t. I’d never understood why she looked at me like that. As if she was about to ask for something but couldn’t figure out how to do it.
“Avoiding your boyfriend,” I said, and she rolled her eyes.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said sharply, “anymore. He’s Veronica’s boytoy and she can have him, for all I care.” She walked back to the sink, pulling a makeup wipe from her purse and swiping the cloth beneath her eyes. “Were you sitting in here watching me? That’s so creepy, Manson.”
I wandered over to the sink next to her, washing my hands before I put a piece of gum into my mouth. Nothing like being around the hottest girl in school to make me suddenly self-conscious.
She couldn’t have been more my opposite with her pink acrylic nails and sparkling makeup. Like a ray of fiery sunshine that could either warm you comfortably, or burn you to a crisp.
“Well, I’m sorry about the breakup.”
“You’re sorry?” She scoffed. “No, you’re not. Don’t give me that bullshit.”
Thank God. I sucked at fake sympathy anyway. It always sounded sadistic and I wasn’t trying to freak her out like that.
“Okay,” I said. “You’re right. I’m not sorry you broke up with your dickhead, dumbass boyfriend. I feel more like I should congratulate you on finally dropping two hundred and fifty pounds of dead weight, but it’s a little difficult to congratulate someone who’s crying.”
“I’m not crying.” She flicked mascara onto her lashes, opening her eyes wide. “Why should I? Kyle is missing out and I have plenty of other options.”
She had her pick of the school. Who would turn her down? Vincent and Jason were constantly egging each other on to flirt with her, like it was a game to see which of them could score first. As if either of them had a chance. Even Lucas, who swore he hated her guts, wouldn’t deny himself the opportunity to get with her. And I…
I wouldn’t turn her down. Hell, the thought of being with her like that…
It was ridiculous. I wasn’t one of her “options.” I didn’t qualify. Maybe if I traded part of my brain for a little more muscle, but even then, I wasn’t good enough for her.
There was a barrier between Jessica and everyone else, an impenetrable glass wall as if she were an exhibit in a museum, meant to be observed but never touched. That wall felt like a challenge, as if there was a trick to getting around it if I could just figure it out.
She reapplied her gloss and it shone on her lips, her mouth irresistibly drawing my eyes. She could say mercilessly heartless things and I’d forgive every one of them; she had before and she would again. What confused me was that no matter how cruel she was, no matter how often she acted disgusted by me, she didn’t avoid me.
It felt like it was the opposite. She could have requested that her locker be moved away from mine, but she hadn’t. She could tell me to fuck off at any time and I would. I wasn’t trying to be a creep, despite her accusations.
“What happened to your head?” she said. I’d already forgotten the cut was even there, and I dabbed my fingers over it to check if it was still bleeding.
“That was the toll for getting into my locker,” I said. Her mouth twitched, as if in a vague attempt at sympathy. “So, who’s your lucky rebound? I assume you’re already plotting how to make Kyle’s life jealousy hell?”
She smirked as she leaned against the sink. “Of course I’m plotting. He needs to learn a lesson.”
The sound of the door opening made me flinch. I turned as a mousey brown-haired girl stepped into the bathroom and spotted us. I wasn’t sure who she was, but Jess snapped her fingers, getting the girl’s attention instantly.
“Restroom is occupied, honey,” she said, and the girl practically tripped getting back out the door. I shook my head as Jess went back to her makeup, still musing about her revenge. “Maybe I’ll date Alex. I know he’d go for it. He’s always trying to flirt with me when he thinks Kyle won’t notice. That would ruin his friendship and make him jealous.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re diabolical?” I said. Lucas would have an aneurysm if Jess ended up dating Alex. Frankly, for the sake of Lucas not ending up with a murder charge, I hoped she didn’t follow through with that method of revenge.
She thought about it for a moment. “No, they haven’t. But I like that. Diabolical…” Her smile widened, as if the idea tickled her. “It’s what he deserves.”
“And what about what you deserve?”
Her expression faltered, and she glanced over as if I’d said something that made no sense. “What I deserve? What do you mean?”
“I mean that maybe this is your opportunity to date someone who actually gives a shit.” I had no idea why I was bothering to tell her this. The hollow numbness inside me was void of fear, absent of the boundaries that usually held me back. “Someone who isn’t just trying to make you their arm candy.”
Her frown deepened. “Um, yeah, I don’t…that sounds so serious, Manson.” She laughed, putting her makeup away and straightening her ponytail. God, there it was again: the wall. Did she think it hid her emotions? Did she believe I couldn’t read her? Maybe that glass barrier was made of brick in her mind. Perhaps she thought it sheltered her from being perceived.
But I could see right through it. The sadness that lingered on her face, the hurt in her jovial tone, the way she picked apart her own reflection in the mirror. I saw it all.
“Right, I forgot everything that happens in this hellhole is a joke,” I said. I backed up, then turned and headed for the door. I didn’t bother to say goodbye to her. I’d see her again. But staying there, alone with her, was asking for trouble. It gave me too many ideas.
Very, very bad ideas.
I fantasized about her all the time but those fantasies were impossible, and daring to think otherwise was foolish. Being in the same room with her had given me a chubby; my mind filling with visions of bending her over the sink and trailing my fingers under that little skirt.
Christ, I needed to get off. If I hadn’t lost my phone, thanks to Alex, I would have called Lucas to come back and pick me up. The thought of his mouth on me made my cock even harder.
I’d developed a habit of edging for days at a time; something about the careful exercise of control made me feel more centered, even if it wasn’t satisfying. But I always hit a point where I couldn’t handle it anymore, days of pleasure without release leaving me slightly feral.
I’d only taken a few steps down the hall when her voice made me turn.
“Manson! Wait!”
I faced her. She stood outside the restroom, rubbing her wrist repeatedly as she looked at me.
“Do you think that…I mean…” Her voice faltered, and she licked her glossy lips. “Were you saying that, like…you think I deserve someone who cares about me?”
She dragged out those words as if they’d come straight from the pits of hell. She sounded disgusted, insulted…and sad. She sounded so damn sad.
“Of course I do,” I said. The hallway was quiet now, so I lowered my voice. Being out here with her made me nervous, the back of my neck prickling. If Kyle, Alex, or any of his other friends saw this, they’d beat me to a pulp. “Maybe if you were with someone who wasn’t such a dick, you’d actually be happy and act like less of a bitch.”
I didn’t say it to be mean; I was being honest. Again, faux pity didn’t work well for me. Jess rolled her eyes, like I expected her to, and said, “I’m perfectly happy. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I closed the gap between us, and she didn’t step back. She let me stand right there in front of her, close enough to touch.
“A sad person knows what another sad person looks like,” I said. I dared to reach out, brushing my fingers along her cheek to tuck a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Goosebumps prickled over her arms, and my eyes widened. “I hear it in your voice. I see it in your eyes. I feel it when I look at you. You deserve to be happy, but you’ll never find it with the people you’re choosing.”
She was staring at me as if I’d slapped her. Certain that I’d fucked up, I drew back from her. Her heat was too much for me; I’d flown too close to the sun and caught fire.
But if you try to force a plant to grow in a dark room, it will reach for the sun. Even helpless and rooted, with no hope of ever touching the warmth, it will reach because it has to.
She grabbed my jacket, pulling me with her. I stumbled after her in stunned confusion as she tugged me back into the bathroom and shoved me against the wall. Her eyes were so bright and wide with wonder. She was still gripping my jacket, and she was so close…too close.
“What are you doing, Jess?” I said. My palms were sweating, my mind running in chaos. She was pressed up against me, her beautiful lips slightly parted merely inches — just inches — from my mouth.
She smelled like sweet strawberries and cream. I was supposed to control myself, but the more something was forbidden, the more I wanted it. Candy tasted sweeter when you stole it.
I wanted to grab her, dig into her. I wanted to see what her skin looked like, reddened and bruised. I wanted to hear the sounds she made when she was lost in bliss. I wanted to find every point of pleasure and pain on her body and use them.
“Promise not to tell?” she whispered.
“I promise.”
Her eyes kept sliding between holding my gaze and staring at my mouth. Her intentions seemed obvious but she couldn’t possibly want what I was thinking. No, it made no sense.
This beautiful goddess of a woman couldn’t want me.
But I knew that look in her eyes, and it roused the monster inside me out of sleep.
I grabbed her arms and reversed our positions, pressing her back to the wall. She exhaled softly, the air between us so charged it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I was panting like I’d just run a mile, my heart hammering against my ribs.
She dragged her lower lip through her teeth and said, “Kiss me.”
I blacked out for a moment. It was only a second and then I was kissing her like it was the last damn thing I’d ever do. It might be — the school reject making out with the quarterback’s ex-girlfriend was a recipe for murder.
But I didn’t care. Goddamn, I didn’t care at all. If I died tomorrow, I’d die happy because this was heaven. Her lips tasted like cherry and her mouth was soft and sweet. Her entire body moved with me, every perfect inch of her, and it was like fireworks shooting off in my head. We gripped each other frantically, fingers digging into flesh, pushing, pulling, biting — Fuck, I couldn’t stop.
I put my hand on her throat and squeezed, and she moaned into my mouth like I’d just given her what she’d been craving.
God, I could destroy her. I wanted to. I needed to. I didn’t just crave her perfection, her unattainable beauty. I wanted her filth. I wanted the messy, disgusting, fucked up parts of her. I wanted to rip her open, pick her apart, find the things that made her tick.
I wanted to make her mine from the inside-out. Shatter her to pieces before I put her back together. These were dangerous thoughts and I was riding an edge I’d never dared to touch.
When we parted, breathless, it was as if we were suspended outside of time. Her lips were red, slightly puffy, her cheeks flushed. She was breathing hard, and for a moment, I imagined myself pulling up her skirt and fucking her right there against the wall.
But then she let go of me hurriedly, her eyes widening in horror.
As if she had realized what she’d done.
“I…I, um…” She shook her head, and I let go of her, stepping back and giving her space. She moved around me, backing toward the door. “That was…” Her fingers brushed over her mouth, trembling slightly. A tiny smile curved her lips, but it vanished in an instant. She paused as she reached for the door, giving me that look again.
As if she wanted to ask for something. As if she could fall to her knees for me.
Then she was gone, vanishing out the door. I stayed where I was for a long time, too long, leaning against the wall with the taste of her in my mouth.
