Page 50 of You Had Me At Thirteen

Especially when he’s such a dick.

TWENTY-ONE

Wren

* * *

Iblow out my breath as I cruise the hall towards fresh air. It’s the first deep breath I’ve taken since Matilda walked into that classroom an hour ago.

When I saw her walking the hall this morning, I couldn’t control myself. With my hand around her throat, I could tell she liked it, wanted it, even though her words were full of hate.

Then being next to her had me adjusting my dick several times. I had to watch her lips when she spoke, or fucking smiled, which had me recalling the way they felt against mine when I kissed her Friday night. Every time our eyes locked, hers would linger a few seconds longer than most would find acceptable.

I’ve never derived so much pleasure out of tormenting someone before, and it’s not because I want to piss her off. Instead, I love the way her body reacts to me. It only takes one little snide remark from me, and Matilda goes into meltdown mode. She thinks she hates me, but her body tells me otherwise. It’s adorable the way the skin on her chest and cheeks turns a pretty shade of pink when I’m close to her. And the way she nibbles the side of her bottom lip has my hormones on full alert.

I run a hand down my face.Think holy thoughts, dickhead.

When I reach the fresh air, I’m tempted to kick every garbage bin I pass along the footpath. Any way I can get out my aggression right now would be more than fucking welcome. Maybe I can find someone to punch.

But it’s Koby who distracts me from my murderous thoughts. He’s hovering near the table at our usual hangout, his phone in his hand as he holds it above his head. The glare from the sun hits me in the face every time he moves the phone, so I cover my eyes with my forearm as I approach him. Just watching him walk in circles is making me dizzy.

‘The fuck are you doing?’ I say as I come up beside him, dropping my backpack onto the bench.

He doesn’t look at me, his focus remaining on his phone. ‘This piece of crap… I cracked my screen and now I can’t see shit.’

‘What’s so important on there, anyway?’

‘Well, it won’t matter if I can’t see anything. Bloody useless piece of crap.’ He throws a couple of air punches before tapping the screen over and over.

I shrug. ‘Whatever. You know you can just get the screen replaced?’

All I get is a grunt from Koby, so I slump onto the bench and pull my water bottle and an apple from my bag. I flick through my phone – ignoring my brain’s insistence that I need to message Matilda – and bite into my apple. The piece of fruit is gone in four bites, with no enjoyment from its sweetness.

Everything I’ve placed into my mouth since kissing Matilda on Friday is unsatisfying by comparison. How has she rendered my tastebuds, as well as my brain, useless?

Emerson joins us a few minutes later, a soccer ball in his hands, his dark brown curls sticking to his forehead as he focuses on Koby. His skills on the soccer field are some of the best I’ve ever seen. Few can get around him when he’s on the defence, and few can stop him when he’s in attack.

I almost wish I’d taken up a sport other than fighting, but growing up, I didn’t have a choice with the sperm donor I got for a father. I had two options – fight or get my arse kicked.

Emerson bounces the ball on his knees, alternating from one side to the other as he stares at Koby. He looks to me as if I know what he’s doing.

I shrug. ‘Cracked screen.’

Emerson laughs, shoving Koby in the back. ‘Get a new screen then, you dick.’

Koby staggers, but regains his composure before punching Emerson in the shoulder. He drops his arms down with a sigh, slumping on the seat opposite me. ‘I’m trying to get with Audrey, and now she’ll think I’m ignoring her.’ He throws the phone in his bag and pushes it away.

‘Why don’t you just go talk to her… in person?’ I say as I point behind him. ‘See, she’s right there.’

Koby looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads. ‘I can’t do that.’

I snort. ‘Okay, whatever, man. Suit yourself.’

‘Don’t be so desperate,’ Emerson says, slinging his bag from his shoulder, and onto the ground. ‘Girls love it when you ignore them.’

‘Is that why you haven’t had sex in a while?’ I say, a grin on my face.

Emerson is a good-looking dude. His naturally light brown skin, hazel eyes, and curls keep the girls lining up, but lately he’s been in a funk of sorts. At least that’s what he says. I’m guessing there’s more to it than that.

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