Only, I know there won’t be anything in there for me, because I lied to her. I won’t get accepted anywhere, because I didn’t apply anywhere. Not to a single school. I’ve been so absorbed in him that I’ve neglected everything else, including myself.
It’s not his fault, the way I’m unnaturally drawn to him, possessed. Like I was put on this earth just for him. That’s how I know we have to stop. But that’s not what makes it so hard. What makes it so difficult is that I know, without a single doubt, what I want my future to hold. The problem is, my future doesn’t want me.
I’m anxious and tense as I walk into school post break. We enter at exactly the same time - ridiculously early.
“I don’t know if I want to sit you down and simply talk, or push you against the wall and rip your close off,” he speaks lowly, happily.
Need engulfs me, searing in my bones as it travels through my veins. I will myself to stay strong, compelling myself to think about how we’ll never go out on a real date, or have sex in an actual bed. How, aside from running into him on another date in the beginning of the year, I’ve never even seen him on a Saturday, or outside of these school walls.
To him, we are fucking. To me, we’re so much more.
He’s still going on and on, and I close my eyes, not meeting his.
“I’m going to go with the later first, then the former second,” he has it all planned out. “And then the later again.”
He unlocks his office door and ushers me inside. His hands cradle my face almost immediately, but I pull back before anything happens, before my strength waivers, because once his lips meet mine, there’s no way I can stop it.
“What’s wrong?” The brush of his fingers on my cheek is my undoing. Tears begin to stream down my face as I watch his expression transform into the most heartbreaking and anguished look I’ve ever seen.
Torture.
“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” I whisper, looking every way but his.
My sobs only increase when he doesn’t protest, and I nod at his silence, seeing only a blur through my waterlogged eyes.
“If… if that’s what you want,” his voice shakes when he finally speaks.
“It’s not.” I bite my lip to stop the quivering. “But this is too hard,” I pause.
“You were right and I lied when I said I don’t expect us to be more than we are. I mean, I know it’s not like you’re going to take me to prom or anything, but… I dunno… I guess I did turn into that delusional girl who wants to find any way we can to possibly make this work for real.”
I love you.
I don’t say it.
“Luci,” his voice is soft and suffering.
“Shit, Josh,” I heave. “You know, I didn’t even apply to college?”
He starts to speak, but nothing comes out, just unintelligible sounds. He reaches out to wipe away my tears, but I back away before he can.
“I didn’t apply anywhere because I want to stay here, with you,” I confess. “I don’t want to ever let go.”
I swallow hard, spitting out my harsh honesty.
“I’ve been picturing how I was going to tell you that - that I want to stay here and be with you, and I could never see it. In my mind it went without saying, and that’s when I realized I was too far gone. Because, stupid me, there was no reason for me to say it, because I never thought we were going to end. We were a given.”
“Luc-”
“I know how ridiculous that sounds,” I whisper. “I thought we were so in tune to one another too,” I shake my head. “I don’t understand how I could’ve gotten this so wrong.”
He’s about to speak, but I can’t stop my rant, my mouth just vomiting the words.
“I know I’m the one who kept pushing us,” I point to myself. “I’m the one who wanted to go out for Valentine’s Day,” I finally meet his eyes. “You’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t want to see me over breaks, or weekends, or outside of these walls. You told me how this was going to be, and I was only kidding myself when I didn’t listen,” I sigh. “You should know I don’t blame you.”
This was just about the sex to him.
The thought pops into my head, but it suddenly makes sense.
The sex.
Of course it was the sex! That’s what 99% of our conversations ended in. None of his sweet words were meant to be anything more than words; they were just to increase the sex, the idea. Don’t get me wrong, I totally get the attraction, how the sex was inevitable. It was phenomenal sex, but that’s all it was to him. Just sex.
He says I’m the one who’s trouble, but it’s him. He’s trouble!
He’s ruined me.
I’m forever broken.
“I don’t know what to say,” he mumbles, and his words, or lack thereof, shatter me. “There’s so much.”
“No,” I plead, stopping him before he can go on. “If it’s not that you feel the same way I do, I’d rather you not say anything at all.”
“Luci, please, I need to say some things and I need you to listen,” he pulls out a chair.
“Don’t,” I squeak. “Let’s just leave it like this. There’s nothing more needed, because let’s face it, we were never really actually together.”
The strange thing is, while I didn’t leave school early today, he did.
He returned the following day with a miserable expression that matched mine. Every time I saw him in the hallway I wanted to run to him, and multiple times, I almost do.
I try to tell myself there’s only a month and a half until school is over. Then I never have to see him again, but that’s just the thing: I always want to see him.
That’s when I knew it was probably best that I finally switch classes.
I stop in the main office on my way to chemistry, grabbing the form. I don’t think as I place it on his desk on the way to my seat. This has been one of the worst weeks of my life, and I can’t do it anymore. I can only hope this solution will take away some of the misery. It’s going to be a long next year of not seeing him, and an even longer future. Better get used to it now, while I still have time to pass by his classroom when he’s not looking - to slowly be weaned off him like the addict I am.
I finally look up, and he’s already staring my way, holding the paper out in front of him, like some disease.
His eyes remain on mine as he rips it - a swift motion, tearing the paper into two before crumbling it up and tossing it in the trash.
The following Monday, Nick finds me before chemistry, right in between lab and class. I didn’t even think he knew what class I was in before public speaking. Hell, I didn’t even think he’d want to talk to me, given how little we’ve said to each other these past few months.
He peers his head into the classroom, waving me out into the hall. I’m happy for the distraction. Anything is better than sitting in this room with him, the one I can’t stop dreaming about and wanting so hopelessly.
I hate how I feel his eyes on me as I walked out the door, and I keep thinking about this eyes and how we sat on that piano bench.
“Um, I was wondering if you had a date to prom yet?” Nick asks, and I’m suddenly no longer so thrilled with the diversion. My body tenses, knowing that if I looked over my shoulder, my teacher would be there in the doorway, hovering.
“Luci, the bell is about ring,” his firm voice makes me jump. It’s the first time in almost two weeks since I’ve heard him say my name.
It doesn’t sound like him, it’s too sad.
“But it hasn’t yet,” Nick argues. I don’t look his way to see if he’s still there as I answer.
“I’m not going.”
“Luci!” Nick protests, his voice rising about a million octaves. “You have to go to your prom!”
“Well, I’m not,” I shrug. “It was nice of you to ask, though, so thank you.” I think back to when Chloe and I walked through the mall shopping for clothes back in August. We were already eyeing prom dresses, feeling the brightly colored
fabrics and admiring their shiny details, eagerly awaiting this rite of passage. We guessed who the king and queen will be, and of course our dates, laughing over our crazy scenarios.
I watch as Nick retreats down the hall, meeting his eyes as I head back into the classroom. I can’t help but think back to what Gracie said to me all those months ago. How I was too far gone, and that was even before things got physical.
Some people fall in love at eighteen, and I guess I’m just one of them. Sometimes it lasts forever, and sometimes it ruins you. But that’s what love does, right? It makes you wish and hope for impossible things.
It’s getting warmer outside, and with today’s random hot temperature; I wear a cute, blue, sporty dress with sneakers. It’s a little on the summery side, with short sleeves and an unusually short cut, even for me. Even though it hugs my body, it’s nowhere near slutty or too tight.
I bought it a while ago, because the color reminded me of his eyes. I loved how the zipper runs all the way from the top to bottom, laughing in the middle of the store, already thinking about what he’d do. He always said he couldn’t wait for the warmer weather and skimpier clothes.
How stupid.
My car doesn’t start right away, and Dad has to jump it, causing Gracie and I miss first period, signing in a few minutes into second.
I pass the gym, where I’m supposed to be, and I find myself at his door. I know he’s in the middle of class, but I stand there, listening to his voice. The urge to talk to him, to physically be with him again, conquering me.
I act completely on adrenaline and impulse as I run to my locker and scour the bottom for anything I can find - this pin will do. I then grab a sheet of paper and head to the bathroom.
Five minutes later, I’m back at his door. I take a deep breath, my heart shattering as I hear his voice telling me to come in. Everyone’s eyes briefly focus on me before returning to their daily quizzes. I watch as he swallows hard, his eyes widening as they move up and down my body, slowly taking me all in.
There’s agony, stress, and the blue in them isn’t as bright as it used to be.
“Sorry,” I clear my throat. “I just need something from you quickly.”
I approach his desk, my back to the class as I start to slowly unzip the top of my dress. He looks back and forth, from the class, to my zipper, watching me, as I move it lower and lower. His eyes look like he’s seeing paradise, and I remind myself that this is not what it’s about. I can give myself this as long as I don’t think.
He swallows hard again, as his gaze lands on my cleavage. I continue tugging the zipper down until I reveal my note.
Your office. Two minutes.
I don’t know if he’ll come, but the desire and longing in his eyes as I quietly zip back up gives me the confidence I need to stroll out and to his office and wait.
I watch as his classroom door opens at two minutes on the dot. He saunters towards me like he has one thing on his mind - to eat me alive - the gleam in his eyes returning, slightly overshadowing the suffering. He unlocks his office door and I step inside, facing him.
“You’re trying to kill me.” He says, and I’m in his arms quickly.
“I just wanted to talk,” I protest between his kisses, but who am I kidding? I need this more than my next breath.
“Like hell that’s all you want,” he whispers, teasing my bare legs along the seam of my dress. “You’re going to get me into so much trouble,” his eyes blaze thirstily.
“Wait,” I breathe heavily.
“That’s all I’ve been doing,” He shakes his head as he unzips my dress in one solid motion. He doesn’t take it off, letting it hang to the sides as he slides his arms around my waist, his hips already gyrating against me as he lifts me onto the counter. I smile at the memories of the first time, when we were fabric apart in this exact spot.
His teeth graze my chin while his right hand moves up and down my left thigh until he’s holding my leg around him. His other hand pushes my underwear to the side, his fingers revolving around my wet center. My head falls back and his lips land on my neck. I hear the unbuckling of his pants and open my eyes when I don’t hear the condom wrapper.
“What about-”
“I’ll pull out,” he interrupts, shoving into me quickly. I cry out. I can’t help it. I’ve never felt so whole.
This was a bad idea.
“This is… okay?” He asks hesitantly, but when he finally sees my face he stops.
“Oh Luci, no,” he starts to pull out, backing away.
“Yes,” I grab onto him. This still has to happen, there’s no turning back now. “I just… I just…”
“I know,” he sighs.
“I need you,” I confess.
“I know,” he starts moving again, awakening every part of my being.
“I’m sorry this is going to be so quick,” he pants.
“Where did you tell your class you were going?”
“Does it matter?” He accelerates his thrusts.
“No, Mr. Harrington.”
He growls as he picks up my other leg, twisting it around him as he shoves me against the wall, driving into me urgent and fast.
“Where do you want my come?” He moans. “I don’t want to ruin your pretty dress.”
He’s hitting me hard, my own trembling taking over. “Shit Luci, I feel you about to come.”
Him too, I can feel him too, but I can’t find the air to tell him. “The way you’re squeezing my dick,” he pants. “I missed it so much. I’m going to loose it.”
“No, hold on,” I persuade, trying to prolong this feeling. “Think of something else.”
“I can’t!” It’s a toss between a laugh and a whimper . “I can’t think about anything but you.”
“My mouth,” I answer his previous question. “Come in my mouth.”
“Yes,” he sobs, pulling out, but I don’t wrap my lips around him fast enough. His come hits my stomach, then chest, before he guides himself into my mouth, so much come spilling out as I pump my lips around him. I swallow quickly, making room for more.
“Oh, Luci!” he sighs, my mouth still jerking his throbbing length until the last bit drips out of him.
He’s breathing hard as I stand up.
“I better get back. I’ve already been gone too long.” I hear the closing of his fly as he watches me wipe the come off my chest and taste it.
“Ugh, you’re going to make me want to go again.” I smile at the idea, but it doesn’t meet my eyes. I’m too mad at myself right now for allowing this.
“There’s that smile… sort of,” he presses his hand against my cheek. “It’s my favorite thing in the world.”
“Please don’t say things like that,” I whisper, wiping off my stomach and fixing my hair before zipping the dress up. “Its just sex.”
He brushes my cheek, his hand lingering, like it’s more than just sex.
“Okay,” he swallows as he leaves.
I’m foolish for letting this continue, but I can’t stop it. Our routine has picked up again, only it’s not exactly where we left off. It’s not as often, and there’s a lot less talking.
It’s easier that way.
Sort of.
I see him writing at his desk as I make my way down the hall. I usually don’t stay after school that much anymore, but today he asked me to, and of course I don’t say no. People are still lingering in the hallway, more than usual. It’s prom weekend, and so many are staying to oversee the gym’s transformation.
He catches me gawking, an unmistakable sorrow still inside.
“Hi,” I pause in the doorway.
“Hi.” He looks at me, and then straight ahead. I peek in and see a few students sitting quietly, busily writing in front of them. “You’re late for the makeup test.”
“Oh,” I play along. “Right, sorry.”
I take a seat in the back, watching as he swiftly makes his way towards me, our fingers briefly meeting as he hands me a small packet of papers
.
Meet me tomorrow tonight, it reads.
What?! The idea catches me by surprise, especially since tomorrow is Saturday. I look up, confused and wide-eyed. He’s fixed on me, and I mouth where.
His playful eye roll saddens me, making me miss our easygoing conversations. He motions for me to turn the page.
Duh.
On the track - 10pm.
I turn the next page.
You may hand this back to me and go.
I get up, confused, handing the paper back and pausing just outside the door. He meets my gaze and gives me a wink.
I pull into the school parking lot, stuck in traffic behind a row of limos, hearing the music blaring as girls in ball gowns and guys dressed in tuxedos make their way inside. I look down at the very plain sundress I’m wearing, pressing my flip-flop on the gas pedal as I continue to the back lot.
I’m very early, since I lied through my teeth on what I’m doing tonight. I don’t know if I wore a dress for the special occasion, it being prom and all, or because it’ll be easier access for him.
I head outside at exactly ten o’clock, and make my way on to the track. It’s dark, but I can still see, thanks to the lights from the school in the distance. I start humming along to the popular song blasting in the gym as I wait, looking at my watch every two seconds, wondering if he’d actually stand me up.
Two songs later, he’s still not here.
The cool May night air is starting to set, and I shiver, moving from the grassy area to a lane on the track, walking just to keep warm.
My favorite song comes on and I sing along, dancing to the beat, imagining Ashley and Chloe squealing with delight.
“You are so damn cute,” his voice startles me.
“Please tell me you haven’t been watching long,” I freeze, cringing at the thought.
He laughs, walking into the light. My blood burns at the sight of him, instantly warming me, despite the now light breeze. He looks sleek, debonair in his black tux and ivory vest and tie, his dark hair neatly styled, and his eyes are glowing an unearthly blue as he holds out the prettiest flower I’ve ever seen.
Beautiful Torment Page 17
