Page 21 of Burn

I drop his hand and tuck both of mine into my lap. I’m about to apologize for hanging on to him too long, for loving his heat, and for how my body feels just by being in his presence, when the buzzer cuts through the crowd’s rumble.

Navaeh pushes up from the table, turns, and walks out of the cafeteria without waiting for Zoe or me. Zoe sighs, long and soft.

“Well. This is great. She is going to be broody and unbearable now,” Zoe says as she grabs her bag and follows Navaeh into the hall.

I look back at Tristan. He hasn’t moved. He has a look of intrigue on his face as he looks at me, head cocked slightly. Sean is halfway to the door when he calls back to Tristan and breaks the spell between us.

I grab my bag and head for the door, almost colliding with the brunette girl in the oversized sweatshirt. She gasps and drops her book to the floor. We both rush to pick it up and narrowly avoid bumping our heads together. I swipe the book, glance at the cover, and hand it to her. She quietly says, “Thanks,” pushes her glasses up her nose, and hurries out the door.

By the time I leave the cafeteria, the halls are empty. I hurry through the corridors, sticking to the special education route out of habit. When I’m halfway to Drama, I realize I could have taken the main hallways. Everyone is already in class. I’m cursing myself for wasting time going this way, which is probably why I don’t see him. He’s hidden behind a door, nestled between a gap in lockers. I feel his fingers wrap around my arm first. Just like last week at the end of Drama class, they press into my flesh so hard that I’m sure they’ll rebruise the spot he’s already marked. He pulls me through the door, and I glimpse the sign for one of the many female-designated bathrooms.

My muscles tense, and my heart hammers in my chest. I lift my eyes to his. That day in Drama, they looked black. I assumed it was because of the low lighting in that classroom, but they still appear nearly black in the bright natural light of the bathroom.

“Hey!” I gasp. It’s the only word I manage before he slams me against the wall and presses his ice-cold hand over my mouth. He presses his body against mine. Every inch of him feels frigid.

My mind scrambles to devise a plan to get myself out of this. Fight and risk pissing him off further, or still my body and try and talk my way out of it. The pressure from his hand over my mouth stings, and the placement means I can barely breathethrough my nose. In a flash decision, I opt for option two and become a statue under him.

His eyes search mine and then drop down my body. I wish I could cover myself, but the way he has pinned me means I can’t wrap my arms around my waist. I feel so vulnerable and naked. In a sudden movement, his other hand flies up to my breast, and he grabs it so hard that I cry out against his hand, and tears spring to my eyes.

Please, no.

I try to beg him to stop, but his hold is unrelenting. I can’t get a word out. I can’t move. His chest heaves against mine, and I can feel his heart. The tempo is unbelievably slow, given the situation. Mine is about to burst, but his is slow and steady. Aaron’s hand on my breast kneads, his thumb and forefinger finding my nipple through my shirt and bra and violently rolling it. I wince and coach myself not to react.

“Please,” I try to say against his palm.

When the pain reaches an unbearable level, I shift, trying to escape. He presses his leg forward and in between my legs, hitting a spot that shoots the most confusing mixture of pleasure and terror through me.

My eyes go wide, and I desperately fight to shake my head.

“Always begging me to put my dick in your mouth,” he sneers, and my heart sinks. “Always teasing me.”

I can’t catch my breath, not like this. I take shallow breaths through my nose, and my head spins. I smell the bleach the custodian used to clean the bathroom; it mixes with the aroma of cigarettes on Aaron’s skin and the peppermint gum in his mouth. It makes my head swim, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to chew mint gum again in my life. He releases my nipple, and before I can register relief, his hand drops, dragging down my stomach to my jeans.

I might pass out.

He fumbles for my button, and his breathing picks up. Now I can feel his heart, how it’s increasing in speed, and I feel something hard between us.

What is that?

As his hand works, he shifts his eyes from mine to my neck and slowly starts to lean into me, his mouth nearing the spot my mom used to tickle when I’d lie with my head on her lap. I feel his canines first. They are something out of my nightmares, and they graze my skin gently at first, creating goosebumps everywhere, then dig in hard. I whimper, and he drives them into me harder, a low growl vibrating through his chest. Initially, I decided to be still, but now, fear has me frozen. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.

When he lifts back to his full height, his lips are wet and parted.

“If you scream, I’ll kill you. I promise you that,” he snarls.

I believe him, so I nod.

The hand on my face moves, and I suck in a deep lung full of air. It’s all I manage before he crushes my mouth with his, forcing his tongue in. The mint and cigarettes turn my stomach.

How mad will he be if I throw up in his mouth?

His tongue darts in and out in sharp stabbing motions, and I just stand here. I do nothing. I can’t fucking move. I don’t hear it. I don’t hear the door open. I don’t hear the footsteps. Suddenly, Aaron pulls back, releasing me completely and rushing past the small blonde who stands with her arms folded across her chest, a devious smirk on her pretty face.

Navaeh looks me up and down, taking in my disheveled state, and spits, “I knew you were fucking him.”

* **

When I enter the school, my hair and clothes are soaked from the rain. The umbrella I brought from the house was old and rickety, and the gusts of wind flipped it inside out so frequently that I gave up trying to use it. The walk that typically takes about twenty minutes took forty-five minutes today. My feet feel like they’re encased in cement. My destination feels like a death sentence.

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