too young for this

chapter 12 | kids with glasses

I look up at the shower-head, feeling the water strike my skin. I'm so glad I can finally get the grime off my skin, even if it's in a bleach smelling bathroom. I place my hurt hand on the wall across from me, away from getting wet.

Closing my eyes, I let the drops hit my head like bullets, focusing on the sound to numb my thoughts. I sigh relaxing my shoulders and drooping my head.

Luckily, Jamie had thought to bring a bottle of shampoo. I carefully squirt some into my good hand, though it hurts to press my other against the bottle.

Bringing it to my nose, the scent of cologne hits me. I breath it in longer. So that's how he smells so good.

I slather it on my hair, using one hand to rub it onto my scalp.
After washing it all off, I use my towel to dry off, stepping out of the steam.

I look at myself in the mirror, scrunching and twisting my hair in my palm to squeeze the water out.
Wrapping the towel around myself, I open the door, stepping back into the room.

Jamie lays on the bed, sketching in his book. He looks up at me, frozen. I stand in the doorway, leaning against the frame. A blush creeps over his features.

I take note of the fact that water drips down my bare legs and most of chest is uncovered. I hope I am driving him insane like he does to me.
He remains silent, simply staring at me, so I have a strong feeling I am.

"Well?" I say, walking closer to him, "Did you imagine me like this?"

He takes a deep breath, glancing away, "No."

"For better or worse?" I ask, trailing my fingers along the seam of my towel.

"I didn't imagine you at all." His eyes flicker back to me.

"You're body says otherwise." I murmur, looking him up and down. He stares at my eyes with a weak glare. I add breathily, "I love making you nervous."

I move to my suitcase, looking back at him over my shoulder. I bend down, un-zipping it. Pulling out some clothes to sleep in.

"You're bold." He says through clenched teeth.

I get up, turning back to him, "That's how you best like me though, isn't it?"

He stands still, watching me with caution as I slip back into the washroom to change.

As I close the door, I let out a hushed giggle, grinning as I dry myself off more and shrug on an oversized t-shirt and my underwear. I dry my hair with the towel and walk back into the room.

He's changed the way he's sitting, lying on his stomach now, facing away from me. I smirk, feigning a whimper, "Oh come on, Jamie."

I sit myself across from him, where he can see me. Flipping my damp hair to one shoulder, exposing my neck, I study him.

He looks up at me with furrowed brows and parted lips, his cheeks still flushed. Shit. He's driving me mad.

"What were you drawing?" I ask, stretching my hands to take the book.

He grabs it away, "Nothing."

I scrunch my nose, "Fine, but if it's 'nothing', why are you so protective."

"Oh shut up." He says lightly, the corners of his lips tilting up.
The words sting, feeling familiar in my ears, though I know he didn't mean them.

I lean towards him, causing our faces to be mere inches apart. Forcing a smug expression, I say, "Make me, Jamie."

He clenches his jaws, eyes scanning my face and fixating at my smile. I can feel my body become tense. I feel sick with anticipation. My stomach twists as I see him shift slightly.