The Devil's Pawn

A loud ringing awoke me from my slumber.

Loud would be an understatement.

I cringed into the person next to me, shielding my ears with my hands. I groaned,
burying my face into his side, “Make it stop.”

I felt him shift next to me, reaching over and turning off the sound. He groaned as he fell
back down on the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes.

I peeled my head back, groaning in discomfort. I felt like a freight truck was slamming
into my skull with each beat of my heart.

Peeling my eyes open, I squinted against the bright light filtering into the room. My eyes
glanced over to the side where a small alarm clock sat.

“Crap.” I mumbled, laying my head back against the pillows. I didn’t want to get up.

Trenton, grumbled next to me. “Ten more minutes please.”

I couldn’t resist.

I feel back asleep next to him for ten more silent minutes.

Until we were met with the shrill ringing of the alarm. Trenton rolled over top of me
slightly, slamming his hand on the alarm clock next to me. He moved back off, burying his
head into his pillows tightly.

I sat up in bed, clutching my head painfully. I let out a small whimper, slowly opening my
eyes to the bright world.

My eyes flickered over to the time.

6:30.

“Crap.” I repeated. I pressed the sheets to my chest as I turned to the side, looking at
Trenton. He was still fast asleep, his lips parted just slightly. His hair stuck up in all
directions, contrasting sharply with the white pillow underneath him.

The sheet that covered him had been pulled down sharply thanks to me. I flatted my
hand against my chest, feeling my heart beat as my eyes moved down his body. Several
distinct dark marks dotted his neck. As my eyes moved down further, I noticed just how low
the sheet actually went. It came at an angle, from mid-chest on one side to his hip.

I averted my eyes away once I noticed the raise in the sheets.

“Trenton.” I whispered, nudging him gently.

He grunted, rolling over, “Ten more minutes, my head’s fucking killing me. Give me a
break, please.”

“We have school soon.” I yawned slightly, trying to keep my headache at a minimum.

“Fuck school.” He grumbled, “Taylor, go back to sleep. My dad will call us in sick. Just go
back to sleep.”

“We can’t miss school!”

“Give me one good reason.”

“I have a history test today.”

“All the more reason to not go.”

“I need a shower.” I grumbled, reaching over the side of the bed. I grabbed the shirt
Erica had loaned me, slipping it over my head. My eyes scanned the ground in search of
something to where on the bottom.

“Looking for these?” Trenton smirked, raising my panties in his left hand. His eyes were
opened slightly.

I felt my face heat up, as I grabbed them back, “Where were they?”

“On the alarm clock.”

“Oops.”

He smiled weakly.

“I’m going to go take a shower.” I mumbled, pulling the panties on. I stood up slowly,
taking a few cautious steps towards the door.

Trenton grunted, rolling over, “I’ll meet you in there in a few minutes.”

I froze in my place, my eyes widening, “You better be joking.”

He smirked into the pillow, “We’ll find out, won’t we?”

“I’ll lock the door.”

“Bathroom doesn’t have a lock on it.”

I licked my lips nervously, “Don’t you dare Trenton. I already feel like shit. Don’t you dare
go inside of that bathroom while I’m in it.”

“Just go. We’ll see what happens.”

“I’m not kidding.”

He grunted.

I took that as a sufficient answer, heading down the hallway. My eyes perked up as I
listened for any sign of his father, but it appeared we were the only two conscious people in
the house.

The water was warm against my skin. I stood under the beating droplets for a while,
unable to bring myself to actually applying the hair products needed. It was going to be a
gross day if I wasn’t going to be able to shave. The water was soothing the aching headache
I had. I didn’t want to stop it just yet.

True to his word, Trenton didn’t intrude on my shower.

It wasn’t until after I stepped out did I start to worry about what I was going to wear to
school tomorrow.

I wrapped one of his white towels around my body, stepping before the mirror. Taking a
tissue, I wiped away the excess make-up I had forgotten to take off the night before.

Bits of memory flashed through my mind as to what exactly happened last night. I could
remember the party, the groping, spin the bottle, kissing Brett, dancing with Trenton.

It was when we came back to his house that was a little fuzzy.

I knew we hadn’t had sex. My body didn’t ache enough for that to have happened.

But the taste in my mouth told me we definitely did some things my mother would cringe
at. My eyes flickered to my tooth brush I had used several times already. Hastily, I smeared
toothpaste on it, scrubbing it against my teeth.

The door opened and in walked a half naked Trenton. My eyes widened in surprise as I
spat out the toothpaste.

“What are you doing?!” I hissed, rinsing my tooth brush off.

“Taking a shower. You took too long. We have ten minutes before we need to leave if
you want to get to school.”

“Are you serious?!”

He looked at me deadpan.

I shot him a look, “I need to borrow some of your clothes. I can’t go to school wearing
what I did last night.”

“Text Erica.”

I rolled my eyes, “Like she’s going to be able to get me something this late.”

He shrugged, turning the water back on. “Whatever. Just…whatever. I really don’t care if
you wear my clothes.”

“Thanks.” I smiled gently, leaving the bathroom before he stripped off his boxers. My
footsteps were silent as I entered his room again. Moving over to the closet, I pulled out one
of his button downs when I noticed something on the floor.

Kneeling down, I picked up the all too familiar black camisole lying on his floor. I was
mine, obviously. I frowned slightly, wondering how I had left it here.

I thought I always came back in my own clothes.

Shrugging, I grabbed it and the button down, moving over to the bed. I slipped my day
old panties on, deciding on wearing the white shorts I had last night. They were evidently
breaking school code, but I had gotten away with that plenty of times in the past few weeks.

I pulled my bra on, noticing the bruising done to just one of my nipples. I felt my cheeks
flair up as I remembered how it got that way.

I bit my lip as I slipped into the rest of my clothes.

I made my way down to the kitchen, deciding to wait there.

~*~

I made it through the morning on only three tablets of Advil, two water bottles, and a cup
of strawberry yogurt. It was a rough morning to say the least, but by fifth period, it seemed to
have passed almost entirely.

A fairly good number of people hadn’t shown up to school. Most of the kids in my class
had come, considering most of the kids in my classes hadn’t been invited—nor heard of—
the party that had taken place last night. But the faces that I recognized daily—the hot shots
of the school—were clearly all missing.

Trenton’s idea of staying home might not have been too bad.

I avoided Elizabeth at all costs. With a sober state of mind, I felt a tremendous wave of
guilt attack me at the sight of her, knowing how I had made out with her crush. While I didn’t
know where they stood, I knew our friendship was strained as it was. This little incident
wouldn’t help it in the slightest.

Trenton ended up coming to lunch, only to fall asleep on my shoulder. I sat at the table,
eating a small salad while he slept away the remainder of his hangover. It was clear that
Trenton had suffered a far worse hangover than I had.

I didn’t see him until last period when I walked into the only class we shared.

For the first time all year, I didn’t have the effort to say hello to my Spanish teacher when
I walked in.

I took a seat in my normal spot, in front of Trenton.

His head was slumped against his desk. Not enough time had passed for him to have
fallen asleep so quickly. I turned in my chair, frowning slightly.

My hangover had come and gone by then. I felt exhausted, but everything seemed more
manageable now.

“Trenton, you can’t be telling me that you still feel like you have a hangover.” I said as I
waited for the rest of the class to filter in.

He grunted, not moving his head from the desk, “I’m going to sleep as soon as I get
home, I swear.”

I giggled slightly, “You do that.”

“I can’t believe I’m actually at school.”

“Why? You go there five times a week. Well… you don’t, but everyone else does.”

“I’ve never gone to school with a hangover. I can’t believe I let you talk me into going.” He
growled.

“You’ve gotten a hangover before?”

“I got arrested once drinking.”

My eyebrows shot up, “Are you kidding?”

He shook his head slightly, “I got arrested for driving drunk. I’m still underage, and Dad
didn’t know I was drinking.” He laughed dryly, “I spent the night in jail.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been arrested!” I hissed, trying not to let the entire room know
about this.

He shrugged, sitting up slowly. Bags hung under his eyes as he stared off into space
absently, “No big deal. It’s in the past. I’m trying not to get in trouble anymore.”

I opened my mouth to respond when Señora began to speak. “Hola clase. Hoy estamos
viendo un video en el Cinco de Mayo. [Hello class. Today we are watching a video on the fifth
of may.]

I turned myself around so that I faced the front of the room as she lowered the lights,
turning the TV on. I could hear Trenton slouching on the desk again. He would probably fall
asleep by the time the video was over.

I felt his fingers capture a strand of my hair as the video began with a cheesy opening in
Spanish. He twirled the curl around his fingers.

Goose bumps rose up my arms at his touch.

I bit my lip, letting him continue.

Trenton played with my hair the entire video. I assumed that was the only reason he was
actually awake.

Once the video finished up, the teacher passed out a paper. I scanned through the
questions, filling in the answers quickly. It was entirely in Spanish, but she chose words that
were fairly easy and not a challenge at all. I didn’t like that fact.

I could feel air moving against my left shoulder.

I glanced to my side only to see Trenton’s face dangerously close to mine. My eyes
widened in shock as he grinned his cocky grin.

“Move your hand.” He whispered.

I moved my hand off the paper, my eyes moving over to where the teacher sat, focused
intently on her laptop.

“Don’t cheat.” I hissed back in a barely audible voice.

“Too late.” He mumbled, furiously scribbling down what I had written.

I should’ve been smart enough to know that he wouldn’t listen to a thing I said, “Please
don’t write down what I’m writing word for word.”

“I’m not an idiot, sweet cheeks.” He chuckled, scribbling down the last of the answers.
“Are you sure these are right? Because if she’s grading for accuracy… I have to get my grade
up to a C by the end of the year.”

I scoffed, “I’m not an idiot, Trenton. Of course these are right. If you paid attention to the
video at all you’d know.”

He smirked gently, “I had more pressing matters.”

“Playing with my hair?”

“I had to keep myself conscious some way.” He shrugged casually, running his fingers
through my hair slowly. “It was… mildly entertaining.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my chair.

“Come over tonight.”

“I need to go home. I want to change out of these clothes.”

He chuckled quietly, continuing to brush his fingers through my hair, “I think you look
cute in my shirt.”

I held back a giggle, “Shut up, Trent.”

The teacher collected our papers a few seconds before the bell rang, dismissing us from our class. Trenton and I walked out together, heading to his car.

It was a silent ride back. Not an uncomfortable one, just silent. Neither of us made any
effort to spark a conversation, enjoying the sound of the radio playing. Trenton tapped his
hands against the steering wheel to the beat of the song. I hummed softly to the few songs
that I recognized enough to do so.

Trenton pulled over to the side at the corner he usually dropped me off at, “Are you sure
you want me to keep doing this?”

I nodded, “Thanks. I’ll get you your shirt back later.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged.

I climbed out, taking my time as I walked down the block to my house. Trenton pulled
away from the curb, pulling into his driveway a few seconds later. He saluted me mockingly
when he climbed out, heading to his house.

I opened my own door a few minutes later, stepping in, “I’m back, Mom!”

“Could you come into the dining room, Taylor?” She asked with a sharp edge to her
voice. I bit my lip, suddenly wishing I could run over to Trenton’s house and hide there. I
could tell by her tone of voice that whatever she wanted me for wouldn’t be good.

I dropped my backpack onto the couch as I made my way into the dining room
nervously. Mom sat in the chair at the head of the table, her beady eyes trained on me. Her
hair was pulled back into a tight bun, her clothing hanging against her boney figure. She
clasped her fingers tightly together, resting them on top of the table.

A steady beat tapped away. She was gently banging the toe of her shoe against the leg
of the table.

“Take a seat, would you?”

Quickly, I obeyed, “What’s going on?”

“Where were you last night, Taylor Marie Thompson?”

I swallowed nervously. It had been a while since she’d used my middle name and never
with this tone of voice. “I was at Erica’s, I told you this. You said I could sleepover.”

“I said you could sleepover at Erica’s house.” She repeated.

Oh no…

“Yes.”

“Care to explain why I got a call from Mrs. Anderson at two in the morning asking why my
daughter was going into someone’s house?”

“I…”

Mom cut me off. It didn’t matter, I had no way of finishing my sentence, “And when I
pressed further, to ask which particular house it was, she told me a few interesting thing.
Can you guess what that was?”

“I…”

“She told me it was the Clark’s house.” Mom’s eyes hardened, “I found this quite absurd. I told her that you shouldn’t even be in the neighborhood. But Mrs. Anderson was more than positive it was you who had gone into the house.”

I closed my mouth, waiting for her to continue with her story. My eyes were trained on the
table, staring at a particular line in the wood. I had to keep my cool.

“I never like Mrs. Anderson though.” Mom mumbled, “So I brushed it off. Then, this
morning, as I was doing the laundry, I came across a few clothes I know aren’t yours.”

“I borrowed some of Erica’s one time.” I interrupted. That wasn’t the smartest thing to
do, but it seemed like it might help the situation.

My mother’s eyes narrowed at my rudeness. I closed my mouth, sitting back into my
seat once more.

“As I was saying, I put the clothes into your room regardless when I noticed a small
piece of paper that shouldn’t have been there.” She continued. I swallowed again, knowing
just exactly what paper she was talking about, “I was about to throw it out when I noticed
something written on it. Do you know what I found?”

“A phone number…” I mumbled.

“That’s correct, Taylor.” She said, “I called the number, but the person sent it to voice
mail. And do you know whose voicemail I got?”

Yes. Trenton’s voicemail.

I didn’t say anything.

“Trenton Clark.” Mom hissed, “And then I realized, maybe Mrs. Anderson was right.
Maybe my daughter, the daughter that I trusted more than anything, had lied to her own
mother and gone over to some boy’s house. The same boy her mother told her not to
associate with.”

I closed my eyes guiltily.

“So it’s true.” She said, not sounding surprised in the slightest.

I nodded. I couldn’t deny it. She had plenty of evidence to prove I had been going over to
Trenton’s house. Water formed around the edges of my eyes in shame.

Mom stood up, grimacing, “I can’t believe you Taylor. I trusted you. And you went behind
my back all for what? Some boy? A little fling? You really think you’re going to have a
meaningful relationship with him? He’s a good for nothing failure.”

“What are you—?”

“Don’t think I don’t know about his past, Taylor Marie.” Mom snapped, “I know about both
times he’s been to jail. I know about his addiction to cocaine. Mrs. Anderson was kind
enough to inform me about this at two in the morning.”

I stood up sharply, “How do you know what she says is true, Mother? For years all you’ve
done is whine about how Mrs. Anderson is the neighborhood gossiper. You claim half the
things she says aren’t true. How do you this is?”

“Do not talk to me in that tone of voice, young lady.” Mom hissed, “You’re grounded. I’ve
never had to do this before. It shames me that I have to now. I want your phone in my room in
five minutes. You can forget about any plans with friends. You can forget about any
after school activities. I forbid you to talk to that boy.”

“Mom you can’t—”

“I can and I will! I’m driving you to and from school every day. Go up to your room now. I’ll
call you down when dinner’s ready.”

“Forget it. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”

Hurt flashed through my mother’s eyes, “It pains me to do this, Taylor. I don’t know what
happened to the child I raised.”

This is the child you raised. I bit tongue to keep from shouting that at her. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dropping it on the table. I didn’t look at her once as I stormed past her, making my way to my room.

I fought back the tears the entire evening.