Wednesday, February 13

His cologne was intoxicating, stronger than usual and as his lips sought mine hungrily, I couldn't help but let out a whimper. Hearing my helpless pleas encouraged him to bite down on my lower lip a little harder, in harmony with his fingers digging against my hip and back. The proximity was suffocating, and I couldn't scream.

Is this how it ends? Under the stairs?

Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel over my head as I examined myself in the mirror. Eyes, still stained with tears, I drop my gaze on the faint traces of last night's horrid memory.

Bruised lip. A hickey just above my collarbone. Fingernail marks dancing against different patches of my skin...

Eyeing the laced mess all jumbled in a pile by the trash bin I tried to convince myself to burn the stupid dress, but I didn’t have the heart to.

I don’t know why.

"I'll just wear a sweater at school I guess," absently muttering to myself as I slipped into dad’s large tee.

Mom was away for the week so I was all alone, again. I didn't feel like going to school for the day so I decided to sleep in.

The doorbell rang and I stifled a yawn. Who could possibly visit me at a time like this? I thought, glancing at dad's hand-me-down grandfather clock, passed down from the Levine family for generations, as I made my way to the door.

It was a quarter past two, so I knew it couldn't be Justin and my cousin who should be holed up in class so that ruled two people out. I wasn't expecting someone, let alone Jason, so who could it be?

"Who is it?" I asked the stranger behind the door. There wasn’t any verbal response except another knock.

I, being the obvious unsuspecting prey for any con artist, opened it, consciously tugging on the hem of dad's shirt down.

Once I got my gaze back up to the visitor, Brett emerges from the other side of the door.

He didn't look like he slept and judging from the clothes he wore the other day it was obvious he hadn't been home either.

"You're going with me." He makes an attempt to force himself in. Thanking my father for installing a door chain, I held the door between us, using my weight to restrain him from cracking it open any further.

A few minutes passed and as if finally comprehending the fear I must have been emanating, he nodded, taking a step back.

"Please leave," I whispered forcing myself to look him square in the eye. He looked just as bad as I thought. Dark circles plaguing his eyes, a hint of a five o'clock shadow begging to be shaved. He looked grim with regret, maybe even haunted.

I wasn’t cold of course seeing that I forgave anyone just as easily. But now wasn't the right time.

I wasn’t ready to face him.

"Today's the parent-teacher conference." He muttered a little lower than normal.

"So?” I replied. Mom never really cared about going to such events and factually speaking, I never really went to any of them, at least not since the third grade, “I don’t do conferences."

"I know you’re still mad at me and I'm really sorry"

At some point, he slipped his hand in to unlatch the lock, catching me off guard momentarily.

Before he could fully emerge to make his way inside I gave the door another push, pulling all of my weight against the door.

The door didn't budge for a split second and then it opened.

“How did you?” I took a step back baffled. Imagine how dangerous it was if a thief or a serial killer were to easily pick on the locks, I would have been fish bait!

As he inched closer I took another step back, tripping on my stupid shoe, which must have had a mind of its own to suddenly be out in the open, and I fell flat on my butt.

"I'm not.” I averted my gaze “I'm not feeling well, I don't want to go."

He dropped on his knees to straddle between my buckled legs, "Then shall I stay with you?"

I swallowed, shaking my head as I dragged my butt across the floor.

"Come with me then" he cooed, absently dropping his gaze on my chest. Dad's shirt was large and baggy, but that didn't help in masking my bra-less chest.

"Damn pervert" I keened shoving his face away. Just when I thought he was genuinely remorseful for what he did.

"Please," he pressed on, still straddling his knees over mine.

"It's not like the parent-teacher conference wouldn't start unless I'm there!" I reasoned dragging my butt back once again.

"I'm the student council president, so it's mandatory for me to be there. So unless you want them to wonder why the Prez is not-"

"Why," I dared, and man, was I becoming dangerously bold to interrupt him. I almost regretted it seeing the murderous glare he had on, "would the world end if I wasn't there?"

"I have to smile the whole time," he says as if it were a matter of fact, "it'll be irritating if you're not there."

"And how does that concern me?" I raise a defiant brow, wow sassy Paige is on fire today. "Oh wait, let me guess, you're going to have me sit next to you so you can stick your hand inside my pants?"

"That's a thought." a mischievous smile pulled up on both corners of his cheeks. "Or," he glanced at me from top-down, "I can ditch the stupid meeting, and we can have some fun."

"In your dreams you sicko." I managed to grab a throw pillow from the couch and fling it at him undetected.

Before he could process what had hit him, I was already bolting up a flight of stairs to my room.

"Don't you dare come in my room or I'll-"

"You'll what?" he challenged a smirk riding up his irritating lips.

"I'll call your dad and tell him you're sexually harassing me!" Lame I know but what a way to get even than to bring up the man that makes his blood boil, after all, Mr. Boyce is a speed dial away. "Good luck on inheriting the throne to the La Cosa Nostra"

"Why you-"

Before he could string up a colorful string of curse words and threats I've already slammed my door shut, chaining my door and for added security shifted my bed against the door.

Glancing at the window, I closed that off too.

"Let's see you get in here now, Prez." I teased.

Levine, two.

Loser, zero.

Who knew moving furniture can suck the life out of you.

After several attempts of trying to get into my room, that pervert student council president eventually gave up, or so I thought. He tried the windows, when that didn’t work he tried to pick the door open. Thankfully, I was wise enough to learn my lesson and used my furniture to block the door.

By six, I've woken up from the sudden shift of weight.

"Dreamt of me?" a husky voice breathes into my ear and vibrates with laughter under me as my eyes flew open.

"What the f-"

The first thing I see is my flower printed brassiere hanging up in the air like a piñata.

Not. Cool.

"How did you get in, again?" I hissed now using my hands as a shield of my defense in front of me, he, however, had no sense of personal space as he sat next to me, our shoulders bumping.

"Forgot the bathroom," He snorts, ever-blue eyes crinkling at its corners. It blueness reminded me so much of the ocean "idiot.”

"This is trespassing!" I writhed.

"You've been in my home dozens of times, how is this any different?"

"Well, that's because you let me in, and you being here without me giving you my consent, it's trespassing! I could call the cops or your dad!"

"If you can find your phone" a victorious smirk has yet again paraded his features.

Was I that easy to read that he'd know my next move?

"Stop sulking." He leaned down to get something on the floor, the lean muscle on his abdomen flexing at the gesture. Setting a paper box on the space between us, he says, "I've got you something"

I've never received anything from him so I was surprised and well... cautious, considering what he might be thinking to make my life miserable.

I shook it wondering if it were one of his slutty dresses again. Nope, I ruled the thought out as the box housed something a lot heavier than underwear and considering its volume it was something else, could it have been...

"A bomb?" I shrieked, voicing out the first horrific thought that came to mind. It was not really a stupid thought considering there was a 50% chance that it wasn't, but we'll never know now would we?

"This is so not like you! I know I've been a very bad girl in this slave-master contract but going to this extent? How cruel! I don't want it. I'm too young to die!" I rambled, typical over-imaginative me.

Brett nods his head disappointingly. Gently plucking the box from my hands, he set it back on the floor this time pinning me down like a wrestler.

"Could you calm down? It's just a cake." His weight as he restrained my limbs sunk us lower into the mattress.

Well, that was embarrassing...

"Cake?" I repeated the word, as if it were foreign. What kind of cake? Mud cake? Worm cake? A cake with a bomb in it?

What if he drugged the cake so that I could pass out cold, kidnap me and tie me up in one of his gang's drug dens?

I was mortified.

"Well since you didn't want to go," he's still holding down my limbs. "I went there alone. It's a little annoying but I barely survived."

"And the cake?" I eyed the fluffy goodness suspiciously. Was it really spiked? What if it's poisoned?

"Leftovers. Because people like you refuse to attend." He goes on about how surveys and emails were pointless if parents and students alike would complain but not take advantage of the opportunity to have their voices heard. "I told them I'd take it to you."

Figures.

"As expected you did it to boost your reputation." I scoffed as if I've already figured him out.

"Do I always have to be a villain in your eyes?" He asked looking abash, "I could have done it because I wanted to."

He leans down and I'm bracing myself to head-butt him if he tries to force another kiss on me but my stomach grumbles instead.

Thank god for that.

"Talk about bad timing!" he whined still restraining me.

"Thank god for survival instincts" I casually joked kneeing him on the thigh and shoving him for the cake.

"Wait you can't just open it!" He winced.

Too late. My finger stung and a bubble of blood oozed out from the cut.

"See what you did? You really are stupid." He scolds me in the same manner my father always did and sucked on my finger.

My cheeks flushed harder as he brought it to his lips. It tickled.

"What are you, a vampire? Let go, that's disgusting." I try to wrench my finger free but he kept a firm hold of my wrist and continued to suck on it. Definitely a vampire.

Pulling it out, he examined my cootie-infested finger. "Oops, still bleeding" and sticks it back in his mouth.

"If it's not a bomb then it's a booby trap!" Attempting to recoil my hand, I stood up. "I hate you the most!"

"It's a paper box, what do you expect?" he mumbles pinching my injured finger between his lips, a crooked smirk riding them. Pervert. "Who's the idiot who tears on paper boxes anyway? Lack of class."

Says the guy who riffles through a girl’s underwear.

"Fine I'm the one at fault, blame it all on me, I'm an idiot who hurts herself are you happy mister know-it-all?"

"No..." he gently removed my finger from his lips and looked at me, as in really looked at me in a way that was both new and surprising, but what was it called? Admiration? Longing? Lust? "But if you let me sleep here, I might forgive you."

Okay, forget my inaccurate observation. Some things won't ever change. Once a pervert, always a pervert. He's a lusty, lusty pervert.

"Are you insane? Who would want to sleep with you?"

"You." Bridging the gap between us, he backed me up against the door. Instantly I regret pushing my bed against it, I'd either break a few bones through the window or the bathroom. "So would you let me?"

"Hell no!"

"Why not?" He teased slamming both hands against the door. Okay, now there's no escape.

"Because you can't!" I reasoned, "Jason lives across the street, I don't want him to get any wrong ideas."

"I don't give a crap about that guy," he slams both hands against the door again, imagine what the neighbors would be hearing. "You’re mine."

"Am I some kind of trophy, is that it? Gee Brett, take a hint I don't like you!"

What was I saying? The words came out. I was speaking my mind, but why? Why did my chest hurt when I said that?

Bam. My back banged against the mattress and we're back to where we started.

"What does he have that I don't?" He poised himself on top of me, an expectant look set in his eyes.

"He's a gentleman," I began, "he doesn't push himself to me, he is sweet and I knew him ever since. He doesn't bully me or hurt me or blackmail me..." I took a deep breath, "he's true to himself and he isn't a fake, he is gentle and doesn't touch me because he wants to, he's easy and fun to talk to..."

"So that's how you feel..." He cut me off. Staring back at those deep pools of blue, I see something utterly sincere, and the sadness I've always taken lightly, I've realized was not because of his father’s lacking area in love but something else. It was hard to explain but it's like looking at a child who wants something he knows he couldn't have, and he looks back at it as he walks out hand in hand with his mom.

He closes in, and just as I was about to wedge my hands between us he presses his forehead against mine.

"I can't be like that but I can be myself to you. I like you, I can love you the way he can't... isn't that enough?" his words stung, it made me feel guilty for saying those words to him.

"Brett, please... don't let me choose between you two"

"So I have a chance?" His face lights up instantly.

"Of course not. I don't know. No!"

"If I wasn't an option in the first place," He's practically beaming with delight. "Then you wouldn't have to choose. Point blank, I have a chance"

"You don't okay, just give it a rest"

"Hey kiddo?" I hear a knock on my door. "You in there?"

Our eyes met.

"It's Jase," Jason knocks again. "I'm coming in"

"Uhm, hey Ankie?" I elbow Brett and he lets out a howl.

"You alright?"

"Uh, yeah. I stubbed my toe on my way out of the shower. Can you give me a moment?"

Brett lets out a snort and I glare at him.

"Sure." I yelled over my shoulder as I tugged on Brett's arm, "Can you hide or something?" I whispered.

"Sorry I let myself in," Jason mutters behind the door. "I want to give you something."

"That's so nice of you, what is it?"

"A surprise"

I faked a giggle and turn back to Brett who was now making himself comfortable on my bed. "Leave!" I beg but he doesn't dare move a muscle. Desperately tugging on his arm, he makes my life harder by purposefully weighing himself down.

"So I was talking to aunt," Jason continues but I'm half-listening as Brett pulls me down and I landed on top of him.

"How crude of you Paige," He snickers, "if you want to seduce the President you could have asked."

"Asshole" I flushed beat red.

"Is everything alright in there?"

"Yeah, just a sec," I call out as Brett starts rubbing my thighs.

"Stop" I glare at him.

"Hope you don't mind," I hear Jason say before Brett pulls me into a neck lock. It takes me a few seconds to process what he was doing.

"Let's see you deal with that."

He lets me go, and a faint sting hums against my skin.

"Paige?"

My blood runs cold.