Page 3 of Broken

“Sir, yes sir.” I salute him, stomping up the stairs. That may have been a little hasty and a tad over dramatic, but hey, that's what teenage daughters who are in their rebellious stage are for, right?

Once I'm in my room I look at the mocking pink colored walls, flipping my room off and rolling my eyes. I'm not allowed to redecorate, because what if I get over my current obsession and go back. It'd be more cost efficient to just leave it as is.

Stalking straight over to my window, I hoist it up and climb right out. You know the scene, the one like in the movies where they sneak out and climb down. Well, I have that, a portion of the roof from my parents closed back porch sits under my window, with the perfect lattice to help me escape.

Once my feet are on solid ground, the freshly cut grass smell lingers as I walk, okay, I run. Leaving through the back gate of our privacy fence and I do the unthinkable. I slip and bust my ass so hard I just lay there for a minute, staring up at the stars that you mostly can't see due to the trees and light pollution.

“Need a hand?” Damn him. Of course he was standing there, watching he always seems to be right there when I very much don't want him to be.

“No,” I turn my head to see pink socks and a pair of white slip-on sandals, “seriously. Pink socks?” I ask, pushing up off the ground into a sitting position.

“I'm so comfortable in my masculinity, that I can rock the pink socks, baby.” He offers me a crooked smile as he looks down at me, my eyes skating over his entire body. The white sweats that hug his thighs a little too tight. The black waistband of his boxers sticking at least an inch out above. The toned muscles up the abdomen. He's a sculpture, come to life to taunt my darkened soul.

“Kudos to you, macho man.” I let out a grunt as I push up to my feet, dusting the dirt off as I go. “‘Kay bye.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You think you can just bite it in front of me and get off that easily.”

“Yes, otherwise I'll bite something else and let your mother find it in the trash.” I cock an eyebrow. I hate him, and I don't mean I hate him because I love him and he won't be with me, kind of hate him. No, this hate burns so deep. When I was five, he ripped my dress and then told my mom that I did it playing too hard, after she told me not to. Or, oh the time when I was nine and I raised my hand to go to the bathroom and the teacher told me to wait until the assignment was passed out and he dumped water under my seat to make everyone think I peed myself. Then there was this one time when I was thirteen, I was a late bloomer, and I hadn't gotten my period yet. So when we went to the pool, he smeared something red on the towel I was using and made everyone think I started my period right there.

He's made my life miserable and I hate him. Even if he is built like a Viking god now, with the braided hair to match. But! The one thing that makes me hate him most, he's my brother's best friend, and they do everything together. The top two in the class, both going to attend Yale together next year, and all the other things goody-two-shoes do. Makes you want to gag on a spoon.

“At least you'd put it in your mouth.” This isn't the guy I know, he'd never willingly say something like that to me. He has two modes with me, super sucky brother's best friend who ignores me, or, the douche bag that makes me look like an idiot without anyone noticing it was him.

He's offered assistance and now mentioned sexual favors. Now, I'm not a prude, I've had a cock in my mouth, once and the fucker choked me so bad my throat hurt for a week. However, I've had sex and I enjoy that very much. But, not with him, never with him.

Westley Sherman isn’t nice to me, so why is he acting like this? “Listen, I don't have time for a minute,” I look him up and down, figuring he’s probably a pump and dump kind of lover, “at best with you,” I make a jab at his performance capabilities. “So you've seen me fall, what happens now, I beg you to not tell my brother I snuck out?”

“No. I'll keep your secret. If you keep mine.”

“What secret is that?” I cross my arms, studying him. He's not out here smoking, he's not out past curfew, considering he's wearing his ‘home’ clothes.

“That you saw me out here. After all, I have a reputation to keep.”

“The one where you show the world your perfect face and demeanor while secretly plotting my demise?”

“Yes, that one.” He turns away and disappears into the shadows of his own backyard, leaving me wondering, why was he out even here?

I let out an exasperated sigh and continue down the path between our houses until I hit the street. Two blocks and I'm partying with them all.

When I get to Max’s house I walk right in, as I’ve done every time this year. I spot him immediately, his dark hair and ice blue eyes staring at me from across the room. Making my way over there, he throws up his fist and I knock knuckles “Maximillion!” I shout over the music.

“Kitty Kat.” He shouts back. “Drinks are in the kitchen!” He nods over his left shoulder, and my eyes follow the path to see Knox, his friend in the kitchen serving red cups from the beer tap. Now, Knox may be his friend, but he's definitely not my friend, even if I let him climb into the Kitty Kat from time to time. Gross, I am never saying that again, even if it was just in my head. A shiver crawls through me as I shake it off.

Dove Cameron comes through the speakers, singing about how she wants to show boys power, vibrating through my body. I can’t help but feel these kinds of songs, when a girl has been through something and she's come out more powerful. Knox hands me a cup before I even make it all the way in the kitchen. I nod, thanking him quietly as I turn back around to join the masses dancing in Max’s living room.

There are so many bodies in the room, everyone is bumping and grinding on each other as I dance through the crowd, finding myself in the middle squished between two bodies. I have no idea who they are, but I drink and party all the same.

The air is hot, and the crowd is hotter. This is what I want to spend my summer doing, feeling the music and drinking the nights away. I can’t wait to be free of the binds that hold me to this wretched place.

After the graduation party, I’m leaving. I’ve saved up money to get out of here. I’ll bus a one way ticket somewhere and never look back.

The song switches, amping the crowd up as everyone jumps and dances. I down the rest of my warm beer and toss the cup. I’m not sure what they have in the tap, but whatever it is, it’s making my face feel numb.

My body tingles as I feel hands gripping my hips, a body pressing against my back as I just breathe in the scents around me. Strawberry vapes, some kind of musky cologne, and sweat. When the body behind me starts growing and pressing against my backside, I laugh. Of course whoever he is he can’t stop himself from getting hard. My ass is rubbing against him so hard that I can feel the dips of his hips.

Leaning forward I give him a little more of a tease, shaking my ass perfectly as he the music thumps with my heart. The bass is unlike anything I’ve felt before. Each pulse around me sends me into oblivion. My eyes feel heavy and my body feels light as a feather.

I’m shoved away from the guy behind me, “Back off, Emo Bitch. That’s my boyfriend.” I put my hands up as I keep my balance, barely.

---