He's a bad boy.
She's a nerd.
She's Mikayla Winter.
He's Jacob Burke.
They used to be the best of friends.
What happens when he needs a tutor?
And she's his only hope?
Can she find something she thought she already found?
And something he thought he...
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~Mikayla's pov~
I closed the door and leaned against it, taking in a deep, shuddering breath.
Through my closed eyelids, I saw that the room illuminated and there was an audible click. I mentally cursed. It must've been my father.
"And where have you been?" He crossed his arms over his chest, looking like an actual father who cared about where I was at what time.
All I wanted was to go up to my room because today hasn't exactly been the best one.
"And when have you cared?" I didn't think twice about what I had said. It was frustrating enough that Jacob and I had already fought, and it was a bittersweet moment when he said all those things after David had run off, what with saying that he would never want that happening to anyone he knew and then walking home behind me (it wasn't as creepy as it sounded).
I just didn't care for anything but Jacob at the moment.
My father was in front of me in a blink of an eye when the hissed words full of attitude were out of my mouth. He loomed over me, body tense and muscles bulging through his black shirt.
I stepped off the door so I wasn't leaning on it anymore and tried to sidestep him to get to my room. Before I could take a second step, though, he lifted both of his gruff hands, pushing my two shoulders really hard and slamming me against the door so my head was hit a second time in under an hour. Plus the slap.
Not wanting him to peer into my eyes as he threatened me or hit me, I turned my head.
His hand let go of my shoulders and he stepped away from me. Giving me an evil smile, he walked away to the kitchen.
I wasn't going to just stand there and think about what he'd just done, so without a seconds hesitance, I ran up the stairs and almost locked my bedroom door, stopping because he broke it last time when he shouldered my door. I prayed he wouldn't try that tonight.
***
I yawned as I got ready for school at six-thirty. Last night I was lucky enough to get two hours of sleep, thinking my father would come in any minute.
Walking in to the restroom, I brushed my teeth and hair and heard my stomach rumble in hunger. I put the brush down by the faucet and walked out of my room and into the hallway. I looked it up and down to make sure my father was nowhere near here and then continued walking to the stairs when I heard and saw nothing.
I was going on a look-out for Jacob the second I got to school. Then, when I found him, I would apologize for being so careless. I hoped he'd accept it and we could forget all about what went down yesterday.
My thoughts stopped when I came around the corner to step down the stairs but almost crashed into my father. Before I was able to react, he pushed me aside and my side was pushed into the railing of the stairs painfully. I had to grab onto the railing to keep myself from falling when I lost my balance.
Breathless, I mindlessly insulted him, clutching at the pounding pain on my side. Metal digging into your stomach and your rib cage was anything but pleasant and all words related to it. My father looked taken back by the words I threw at him, but quickly composed himself and came back over to me.
I quickly hid my face from his view so he wouldn't see the tears brimming around my eyes. He'd only feed off of my tears and pain.
I felt a tug on my hair and when I still refused to face him, he wrapped all the hair he could get around his hand and pulled me back away from the rail with all the strength he had, and we both knew he had a lot of that.
When he made me look into his eyes, I saw that they were crazed, his pupils were dilated, his eyes were bloodshot and glossy. He was high. Where did he get them? More importantly, where'd he get the money for it?
"Say it again! I dare you!" he taunted.
And then I repeated the only thing I remembered yelling at him.
"Mom would be so proud of you," I hissed as his eyes darkened. It was undeniable he was still in love with my mother even if she has remarried and has a kid with the guy. Saying this really got to him so it wasn't worth questioning the actions he made next.
With an animalistic growl, he swung the arm that had my hair so I was now on the floor only inches away from falling down the stairs.
Taking advantage of my state of weakness, he kicked at my side multiple times and I let out a couple of screams until I was gagging at my suddenly stolen air. When he felt that he was satisfied, he bent down tried to punch me in the face with his balled up fist, but I knew the least I could do was fight back.
I wanted to wait until he was close enough to make a move he had shown me when I was in the seventh grade and began walking home myself. I positioned my leg so it was just where I wanted it. Once I was sure, I kicked my knee up, knocking it into his groin.
His face twisted in pain and he fell to his side next to me.
Coughing, I sprang up onto my feet and tried to run away from him, but something caught around my ankle and I smacked face first on the the floor and dragged back to where I was originally. I was able to kick him in the face and crawl a couple feet away. Unfortunately, my father got up onto his knees and wrapped my hair around his fist again and before I knew it, my face was smashed against the wall. He yanked me back and threw the side of my head on the rail. I felt a stream of blood escape my nose.
He stood to his full height, pulling me along with him so my feet were off the floor and slammed me against the wall opposite of the wall he mashed my face into. Instantly, his hands wrapped around my neck, blocking my windpipe when I had just recovered from the kicks to the ribs.
Quickly remembering a movie I had seen, I turned slightly and brought my arm in the air, turning it at a ninety degree angle. His hands released once I brought my upper-arm at the space between his elbows and wrists at full force.
Recovering quickly though, he pushed down on a shoulder until I was sitting down on a step. Using one hand to push my hands to my sides, he pulled a fist back and swung it forward. The fist made excruciatingly painful contact with my nose and I screamed at the top of my lungs it was probably an ear curdling one.
As if saying 'I'm done', he put a hand on my back and pushed me down the stairs.
The momentum of it all hadn't let me grab onto anything to stop myself falling to the floor; it all happened so quick. First it was my head because somehow during my fall I was turned so my head was in the lead and my feet were behind. Then it was my neck, making everything uncomfortable for that split second. Lastly, it was everything from my shoulders to my ankles, not up to my feet because by then my head hit the doors and there was no more room for another body part seeing as the stairs were only a couple of feet away from the front door.
I felt my eyes becoming heavy, and I began panicking because I know it's bad to sleep when you've been hit in the head too many times, it can't be good. Everything was hazy and black around the edges.
I've never wanted sleep so much.
"Open the door!" was all I heard before I fell into the sweet abyss.
__
a/n: •another cliffhanger!! •did you like it? Of course you didn't! But vote if you were into it. comment your thoughts and predictions, I'd love hearing what you guys think, & finally, share if you think the story deserves it •I. LOVE. YOU. GUYS. SO. MUCH.
