Playing with Forever

Chapter 40: Unwanted Kisses

A week later, it still hadn't happened. From what Sam had told me about Accepting him, something was supposed to happen, things were supposed to change. I didn't understand why things were staying the same; it obviously meant that I hadn't officially Accepted him, but I didn't understand why it hadn't worked.

As I was waiting outside my English class contemplating this, Tristan popped up suddenly and plucked my notebook out of my unsuspecting hands.

"Hey!" I called angrily, trying to grab it back.

He just turned his back to me, using his height and athletic ability to keep me at bay as he flipped through the notebook, looking at the papers I had stored in the pockets. He quickly found what he wanted: my sketches were right in the front. They were ones I had done recently, ones that didn't have the pain of my past in the images. Lizzie asleep in a patch of sunlight, Nate and Paula laughing over cupcakes, and to Tristan's delight, Sam.

I tried snatching them back when Tristan pulled them out. It was a hopeless cause, though--it just fueled him. "Drawing in our spare time, are we?" he said.

"Give them back."

"They are quite good, especially this one of Durand," he mocked. He titled his head as he dramatically examined it, as if contemplating the merits of my work.

"Tristan, I'm going to be late to class. Give me back my stuff."

He smiled deviously at me, holding the notebook and sketches behind him. "Buy it back with a kiss."

What? "No!" I exclaimed. If that's how he was going to play it, he could keep it. I didn't care that all my class work and sketches and school ID were suddenly in his hands. Never in a million years would it be worth it.

"Come on, one kiss."

No way.

But before I could get away, Tristan backed me up to the wall. The corners of the books in my backpack pressed painfully into my spine. My blood heated and my eyes went wide with fear as I tried to push him away. He grabbed the back of my neck, and despite my fighting, he kissed me.

I froze.

It was instinct, to freeze. But as it happened, memories flooded back. When he domineered me, when he overcame me and did something I didn't want, I knew better than to fight back. So when Tristan stood over me, his tongue shoved down my throat, I did nothing but freeze.

Well, freeze and cry. When my chest shook with a sob and I tried to gasp for air, Tristan pulled back and looked at me.

That's right, go ahead and cry, Princess.

I don't know if he realized that there was more to my crying than just fright of Tristan himself, but he just looked at me as if I was stupid. "Tristan, stop," I begged through my tears.

People had stopped in the breezeway to watch what was going on. What was the weird new girl who hung out with Sam Durand crying about in the middle of passing period? Why in the world was she sobbing because Tristan kissed her?

No one considered: Hey, should we do something to stop this?

Before Tristan could respond with more than an amused smirk, running his hand suggestively through my hair like he usually did, he was suddenly snatched back from me. My head lurched sideways as his fingers snarled in my hair before ripping through it. It took me a few confused moments to figure out what was happening.