Corrupt Me

Call me sadistic, call me cruel, call me weird, whatever, but I absolutely love the fact that I made the gorgeous new boy sitting in front of me in drama class squirm around in his chair during the entire lesson. I kept my eyes on him the whole time, and I knew he knew it. Every few minutes, he’d twitch, as if he was going to turn and look at me again, before deciding that maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to do so. Needless to say, I didn’t pay any attention to the insane teacher standing in front of the class; I was too busy trying to figure out how I was going to get – and keep – Micah’s attention fixed on me. It didn’t take me long to figure it out, and I decided to put my plan into action straight away.

It amused me when, as soon as the bell rang, signalling that it was time to go to our second lesson for the day (math; kill me), Micah jumped out of his seat like a rocket went off in his ass and practically ran out the door to catch up to that girl who’s name I still couldn’t remember – Ashleigh… or Mary… or… I don’t fucking know, nor do I want to know; as far as I can see, she’s a rival for Micah’s attention, and goddamnit, she was going to lose that fight even if I had to bind and gag her and keep her in my basement just to make sure that I won. Yes, I’m an attention-whore. Suck it.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. So I followed Micah out of the classroom, my eyes on him the entire time. I’m sure he knew it too, because he shivered a bit before he turned to Short Girl to answer her question of “What was that all about back there with Angel?”

I smirked to myself, and I got a little closer to the pair as I listened for Micah’s reply.
“Back with…what? Who’s Angel?” he asked, obviously confused. That disappointed me; that he didn’t know my name, but…well; I didn’t really expect him to be a mind-reader – after all, no-one had bothered introducing the gorgeous creature to me when he arrived at the school. And anyway, he’d most definitely know my name soon enough.
“The boy sitting behind you in drama. The one you were staring at for like, 5 minutes,” the chick replied. God, I really need to remember her name, it’s pissing me off having to call her ‘Short Girl’ and ‘Whatsername’ all the time.
“His name is Angel?” Micah asked incredulously.

The girl laughed quietly and told Micah about what the highly religious people in the school call me. I, personally, think its bullshit – I’m not that evil that they have to call me the ‘Satan Reincarnate’ but whatever. It’s fucking funny that they think I am that evil.
Obviously the short girl’s little story about me got Micah’s attention, because he looked at her in awe.
“Why?”

I took this as my opportunity, and I pushed my way forward. Without even a second thought, I wrapped my arm around Micah’s tiny waist, making sure to feel him up a bit before I began talking. He squirmed, which disappointed me, but whatever.

With my usual smirk adorning my features, I answered his question. “Because,” I said. “I don’t believe in God, I don’t abide by the bible. I swear, I drink, I sleep around and I’m gay. That’s why.” Just then, an idea popped into my head. I’d already decided in class that I absolutely loved it when Micah became flustered, so…why not make him flustered a little more often? “Now, Micah,” I growled quietly in his ear. I noted that he shivered slightly, which amused me, before he tried to move away from me again. I tightened my grip on his waist, “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling myself today. Can I feel you instead?”

I received the result I was after. A flustered Micah makes a very happy Angel. Micah blushed a red so bright it made me laugh before I decided to push my luck a bit, and see how far he’d let me go with him.

I moved my hand under his shirt and felt the perfectly smooth skin that covered his hip bone. Oh, god, his skin felt amazing. I’m gonna take hours just running my fingers over every inch of it when I manage to get him naked, which, hopefully will be sooner rather than later.

I was about to run my hand over Micah’s stomach when he suddenly pushed me away (quite roughly, I might add). It disappointed me a little, but I didn’t let it show. After all, I’d get to feel him up properly soon enough… I hope, anyway…

“What is your problem? Do you often go and molest people you’ve barely met or am I just special?” he asked, with the cutest little angry expression.

Ha. He walked right into that one.

“Oh, believe me, baby. You’re special. Actually, I just realised…you look just like my next boyfriend…” I told him, eager to see his reaction. He was about to reply when our conversation was interrupted by the short girl who I had forgotten existed until that moment.
“Leave him alone, Angel, he’s obviously not interested. Are you, Micah?” she said, looking meaningfully at Micah, who shook his head so hard he messed up his hair. Damn.
“Aw, don’t be like that, gorge-”

“Enough, Angel.” She interrupted me! What a bitch. She grabbed Micah and pulled him into our math class, immediately heading for the back of the room where there were two spare seats. I looked around, only to discover that there was only one more empty seat, and that it was at the front of the room.

“Fucking hell!” I muttered under my breath before I threw myself down on the chair and glared out the window. The lesson started a minute later, but I didn’t care. I was never going to use all that algebra shit we were learning so why bother paying attention. Instead, I absentmindedly watched the cheerleaders practice their routines for the upcoming football game while I thought of how I was going to get Micah alone so I could seduce him and possibly bring him over to the dark side.

It turned out to be harder than I thought. Micah had almost every class with me, which was totally okay in my books, but he also shared those classes with Short Girl, which was totally not okay. The only class that I had Micah’s undivided attention (well, I would have if he wasn’t ignoring me) without Whatsername interrupting every time I tried to speak to him was biology.

Lunch was fucking boring, as usual, but I did manage to finally find out that short girl’s name: Isabelle Saunders. Drew told me; he knows almost every girl at this school’s name (probably because he’s fucked most of them, and wanted to fuck the rest – he’s such a whore). I told him, Braden and Rochelle about Micah and my plan to get him as we sat passing around the bottle of vodka that Drew had conveniently brought with him for a bit of lunchtime fun. Brady and Chelle aren’t really big drinkers, so it was mainly Drew and me guzzling from the bottle.

Needless to say, I was fairly drunk by the time the bell rang to go back to class. I got in shit for it from the teacher and was sent to the principal’s office, where I was informed I had to stay behind after school for an hour each day for the rest of the week. Great. Just what I wanted. Detention again. Why does my life have to suck so badly? The only positive outcome from the afternoon detention was the fact that the supervising teacher is fucking gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as Micah, of course, but gorgeous enough to make me not want to commit suicide from the boredom that I would surely be feeling if any other teacher was watching us.

***

My mom didn’t acknowledge my presence when I came home after my detention, but hey, what’s new? She’s never bothered paying me any attention before, so why the hell would she start now? Even so, as soon as I saw her sitting at the dining table, typing away on her laptop, I wrapped my arms around her in a big hug (only because I knew it annoys her).

“Hello, mom. My day at school was great. Thanks for asking. And I know you were worried about me, seeing as I’m home an hour later than usual but you really didn’t need to call me that many times. I had a detention. You want to know why? Of course you do. I was drunk in class and the teacher noticed! I know how disappointed in me you are, but please don’t yell at me too much. Oh, and I met this really cute boy today. I’ll make sure you’re not home when I bring him over so I can screw him without you interrupting us by bringing in a tray sandwiches and homemade iced tea, like I know you love doing when I bring guests over, even though I’ve told you a million times that your mothering is not nee-”

“Shut up, Angel. I’m working. And enough with the sarcasm. Now get out,” my mother said, not even looking up from the screen.
“Fuck you,” I spat, as I made my way out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my bedroom. I really fucking hate my mom. And my dad. The bastard left me and mom with nothing but this shitty, falling-apart house and divorce papers when I was 4. After that, mom became a workaholic and started pretending I don’t exist. I basically raised myself, which would probably explain a lot about my personality. I can’t wait until I’m 18 and can officially move out and never speak to or see my mother again.

With a sigh, I lay down on my bed and shut my eyes, and soon I was asleep with nothing but the gorgeous Micah and what I was going to do to him when I finally made him mine running through my head.