Page 15 of Giving In

Mostly I keep thinking of Jake’s change in behavior, how furious he got at me when he caught me listening. How suspicious was that? Sam was obviously someone from their past and Jake’s reaction was a desperate act to avoid anyone finding out anything about said past. But what is he hiding?

Jake White is the golden boy of Stoneview Prep. No matter how much trouble he gets in, he always gets away with it. Everyone,everyoneloves him. If they knew how cold he can turn, I’m sure that would be a different deal. I saw a side of him earlier that no one knows about. At least no one that isn’t close to him. I can’t help wondering if his friends know about this. Chris? Is that why he told him to leave me alone? Could Jake actually be dangerous?

Okay Jamie, you need to calm down.

The next day, I walk into English with a heaviness in my stomach. I’m not scared of Jake but that doesn’t mean I particularly want to confront him either. I’m really not a confrontational person. I prefer pretending something hasn’t happened and never talk about it again.

Luke is sitting on his right, in my seat, chatting with him.

“I’d be more than happy to sit next to Rachel, but I don’t think Mr. Ashton will appreciate us messing with his seating arrangements,” I say to Luke. He and Jake both turn to me smiling.

“And I know you would never want to cross a teacher, Goody,” Luke tells me as he gets up. “Don’t let me get you in trouble.” He grabs his backpack and turns to me again. “Hey, so Camila’s party on Friday...are you and your friend coming?” I can see from the corner of my eye that Jake is waiting for the answer as well.

“Uh, I’m not sure,” I admit. Mr. Ashton chooses this moment to enter the class and I take my seat as Luke walks to his.

Jake leans close to me as soon as my butt hits my seat. “You shouldn’t go to Cam’s party. It’s not for girls like you. It’s all booze, drugs and, oh, S. E. X.” He spells it out as if I’m a child and he has to watch out what he says around me, and then he puts on a fake shocked face.

Screwthis guy. Who does he think he is?

“You know what, Jake,” I reply, feeling the anger building in me. “I think I might go to Camila’s party. Hey, is your friend Sam going? He’s cute,” I ask with a big smile on my face.Eat that, asshole.

His eyes turn black and his face hardens. In a split second he turns from cocky to evil. His gaze is intense. It screams violence and ferocity. I feel like little Red Riding Hood about to be eaten by the wolf. My mouth feels incredibly dry as regrets sets in.

No, Jamie, don’t let him destabilize you.

He turns back to face forward but slowly adjusts his chair to the right, toward me. My left arm and his right are almost touching.

It takes all my strength to not move an inch, to not bend to the fear. Especially when he wraps his right arm around the back of my chair. I gulp but do my best to keep looking straight at the board.Mr. Ashton is writing on it and everyone is quietly taking notes apart from the few people here and there whispering to each other or on their phones.

I swallow the lump in my throat. I feel so tense I want to jump off my chair and run away. The scent of Jake is tickling my nostrils and I realize I’m holding my breath but can’t seem to get myself to start breathing again. He’s not saying anything, though I can feel the furious anger emanating from him.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

I can sense his arm on the back of my chair starting to move andhe suddenly grabs my right arm in his big hand. I let out a sharp breath and bite back a whimper. His fingers are wrapping around my upper arm so tight I’m sure it’s going to leave a bruise.

He leans a little closer to me and starts whispering in my ear. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

He’s still looking straight ahead to not attract attention, but his icy voice is focused on me. I twist under his hand and he tightens his hold.

Okay, I’m officially destabilized.

“Mm…” I can see his tongue licking his lower lip from the corner of my eye and he lets out a low chuckle. “I don’t think there’s a better thing in the world than feeling you squirm under my touch, Goody.”

I freeze on the spot.

He needs to stop.

My arm is starting to ache but that’s not the worst part. The worst thing is the heat in my belly and the electricity from his touch. It’s white-hot on my skin and I feel like I’m going to combust any minute now. I try to compose myself and turn my burning face to him.

“You’re hurting me,” I hiss.

“Am I now? It’s not like I didn’t warn you yesterday though, is it?”

“Jake, let go of my arm.”

He finally turns to face me and fake pouts. “But my skin on yours feels so right.”

“I’m serious, let go. You’re hurting me.” Our whole conversation is whispers. My voice is slowly going from ordering him to let go, to begging him to.

---