The Heartthrob Won't Leave

Chapter Thirty (New Chapters)

"Let's go" he came back suddenly, startling her. She looked up at him, watching as his eyes were down, collecting his own books into his backpack. But, it was too late now, her escape chance had slammed shut. She just sighed inside her mind at her own foolishness, getting up from her chair and collecting her books in her arms. She glanced at the clock on the wall near the roof. There was still an hour left of this class before lunch. She could last an hour, right? Just be polite, cordial, and everything will be fine. They are classmates doing a project, not friends, and certainly not anything more than that. 

So, she followed him out of the room, and down the hall. There were no words between them, only the sound of footsteps on the linoleum floors as they made their way toward the library. At least that was where she thought they were going. But, that was abruptly changed at her gasped surprise when he grabbed her arm and pulled, her books tumbling from her arms and splattering across the floor. She didn't even have the chance to clean them up before she was pulled through the nearest door by his hard grip. She glanced around with fuzzed sight, noticing the urinals, and realized they were in one of the boy's bathrooms. She was disgusted on instinct, but didn't say anything to suggest that, not that she had much of a chance. It was only moments before she was lifted from the floor, startling her that she gripped onto his shoulders for leverage. She was placed on the counter, and to her surprise, he was between her legs and grabbing her cheeks suddenly. His eyes came closer and closer to her own, their faces only inches apart as she struggled to breathe with wide eyes. She didn't even know what was happening. He suddenly pulled one of his hands from her cheeks, licking his thumb and starting to rub her skin.

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" she was confused at first, but once she realized where exactly on her face he had rubbed and the fact that the pressure had hurt the slightest bit, she gasped in surprise. He had wiped away some of the foundation surrounding her eye.

"No! Stop!" she claimed quickly, struggling to get off the counter, but he wouldn't hear her, forcing her to stay. "Please! I don't have anything to reapply with! Please!" she could already sense the hot tears sliding across her cheeks as he kept her restrained, wiping them away with his finger. She tried to grab his hand, his arm, to stop him, but to no avail. He was too strong for her to contain. There was one last thing she could try, her last resort. She raised her hand, swiping it across his face. She had slapped him, watching as he stumbled back a few paces in surprise, covering his cheek with his hand. He looked up at her, and it made her even more afraid. He was angry, and that word was being generous.

"I told you to s-stop!" she tried to defend, wiping away her tears with the sleeves of her sweater 

"Why didn't y-you stop?!" but, she didn't even care about getting her questions answered. She just wanted out. She got down from the counter, heading right for the door so she could get out and escape. But, she didn't even manage to touch the door handle before she was grabbed and pulled back, stumbling and hitting her back against the wall.

"Who hit you?!" when her eyes re-focussed, he had caged her in, with each hand on either side of her head, blocking her chances to flee. She didn't respond to his question and that appeared to anger him more "I asked you who hit you?!" he repeated himself, even louder than before. She didn't speak, she didn't want to tell him. Admitting who had hit her would have meant revealing where she was living now, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. She had to fight her inner-people pleasing default controls, and try to enact her own power voluntarily to override them. She couldn't take any more of those pity looks when people found out she was a foster kid, it was a secret she only told those she could trust, those closest to her. She couldn't tell him, she didn't want to tell him and further sully her view in his eyes. That she was dirty, she was garbage, she had no real home. With a dead mother, a father in prison, and a brother she was still inwardly convinced had abandoned her for an earlier life without her.