Page 24 of Chaos at Westbrook High

Because he’s drunk—again—and he refuses to move his lazy ass and get shit done. When I got home from work, I found him exactly where I left him before school this morning, passed out on the couch as if him picking me up today never even happened. I got mad again and almost woke him up, but I knew there was no point in trying, so instead I snatched his car keys and asked my neighbors on the ground floor if I could borrow their hose. I scrubbed the inside of the car and got rid of the drugs first, not because I wanted to, but because if I don’t do the things that need doing around here, they’d never get done. Derek can’t bring himself to give a shit about anything right now, not even the car Elijah gave him the day he got his driver’s license four years ago.

He loves this fucking car.

And I know it’s just that—a car—but it breaks my heart to see him so depressed that he’s stopped caring about what happens to it.

I clamp my teeth together while I fight the urge to cry. What a fucking mess I am.

Kai looks deep into my eyes, searching for something I refuse to show him.

“You know there are these places called car washes that’ll do it for you, right?” he asks.

“You know regular people can’t just pull cash out of their asses, right, rich boy?”

He smirks at that, seemingly amused by me and my big mouth. He tips his chin at the apartment building I grew up in. “Is he up there?”

“He’s none of your business.”

“You’re protective of him,” he observes, his dark eyes bouncing between mine. “You’re trying to protect him from me. Why?”

“You know why.”

He moves closer again, and I step back again, adjusting my grip on the handle of the hose I’m still holding. He’s laughing at me now, not with his mouth but with his eyes, clearly seeing my intent before I’ve even fully thought about it.

“You really think a little water’s gonna keep me away from you?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” I remind him, but the breathy sound of my voice betrays me.

Damn it.

“I think you are. And maybe you should be.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re Derek’s girl,” he says like it’s a fact, his lip curling in disgust. “That makes you my enemy.”

“I’m not his girl.”

“What are you then?” he asks, his eyes flashing with menace. “His whore?”

Motherfucker.

My nostrils flare, and I’m this close to pissing him off for real this time.

Don’t do it, you child. Don’t do it, don’t?—

“Are he and my uncle paying for you to go to Westbrook so long as you keep giving him a hole to stick his dick int?—”

I do it. I lift the hose and soak the bastard. Satisfaction rolls through me for half a second while he spits the water from his mouth, but then he’s coming for me, easily snatching the handle from my hand and pointing it upright beside us, soaking us both. I squeal and stumble back a step, but he doesn’t let me fall, locking his right arm around my waist as the freezing water rains down on us.

“You know if you wanted to get wet with me, all you had to do was ask,” he teases, burying his face into my neck.

“Kai, turn it off!” I shout, punching his shoulders and twisting in his grip. He doesn’t turn it off, and he sure as shit doesn’t let me go. He’s enjoying this, laughing as he towers over me with his height and his body. I lean all the way away from him, and he’s right on top of me now, the front of my cap the only thing keeping our foreheads from touching. I’m trying to use my weight to push him off, but I’m also clinging to him for some reason, my heart racing in my chest as he overpowers me, lying me down across the hood of Derek’s car. Eyes locked on mine, he drops the hose on the ground. I’m not sure how we got here, both of us dripping wet, his hips between my thighs, his mouth hovering over mine. He’s too damn close again, and I’m horrified over how much I don’t hate it.

“Fuck, I love that look on your face,” he whispers, leaning on his forearm beside my head, using his thumb to push the hat off my head. “You still hate me but you want me too, don’t you?”

“I…” I look down at my shaky fingers wrapped around his wet shirt, visibly shivering when I realize how hard his dick is against my pussy.

He knows I can feel it through our clothes. The return of his stupid smirk confirms that. And Jesus Christ, I think he knows how much it’s affecting me.

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