Picking Up the Pieces

He pressed me up against the wall and whispered against my lips, “Relax, kiss back.” It felt quite comical actually, since he was like one and a half heads taller than me, so he had to bend down quite far. Did I shrink? “Relax,” he said again, when I had not moved a muscle out of shock.

My muscles loosened up and my hands supported me from behind me by holding onto the wall. I suddenly felt myself kissing back. What was I doing? Didn’t I hate him? Wasn’t I supposed to leave him like the cold bitch I was? Lucas snaked his arms around me waist and lifted me up to his height, causing to wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck to keep from falling.

He lightly licked my lower lip, which was when I decided I had to stop. I pulled back, my face burning red, my fists clenching and unclenching behind his neck.

“I-I-I’m s-so s-s-sorry,” I stammered. “I d-didn’t m-mean to.” My eyes widened slightly and I let go of his body, dropping down.

Lucas looked alarmed. “What? Why are you blaming yourself? Honey, what’s wrong?” I scowled when he said honey and my stammering disappeared as fast as it had come.

“What have I said about you calling me honey?” I snapped.

“Whatever, shitface,” he said sarcastically.

“Wow, that sure went from sweet to insulting pretty fast.”

“I specialize in poisoning sugar,” he said, taking a bow, his hair brushing against my face and then stomach.

I stepped away from him. Why did I kiss back? Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. How could he do that to me?

I felt my eyes tear up slightly, hating how emotional I was getting. “I can’t do this,” I whispered. “We can’t. We’ll just get a divorce later. I can’t.”

Lucas’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why? What’s wrong?”

“You’re toying with me again!” I accused. “I can’t repeat what happened before.”

He grabbed my arms, though still cautious of my shoulders, and pushed me up against the wall again. What was this guy’s problem with walls? Does he have some sort of hatred towards them? I’m sure the walls don’t love you either, buster.

My back hit the wall and my breathing sped up as he leaned in. I abruptly turned my head. “Who says I’m toying with you?” he whispered dangerously in my ear, his lips brushing my cheek.

“I do,” I breathed onto his neck, smiling slightly when he shivered. “Although you’ve done a good job of hiding your whores up here. Where are they?”

He let go of me suddenly and gave me an unreadable look. It was almost…blank. “You know what’s your problem, Jordan?” he asked. “You can’t accept anyone caring for you! That much at least hasn’t changed.” He said those words so coldly; I couldn’t help it when I flinched.

“It’s not my fault I can’t trust anyone,” I said quietly.

He shook his head. “You’re cold, Jordan. You’re hot and cold.”

“Well you haven’t done much to strengthen my trust!” I snapped.

“I’ve tried!” he snapped back. “But you won’t let me!” He stalked to the attic door and pulled it open. He turned to me and cocked his head, an awful smirk spreading across his face. By awful, I mean the face he used to wear continuously in Junior year, when I hated him. “You’re right,” he said, though I could tell he was lying. “I’m toying with you. I’m still that same heart-breaker Luke, babe.” He winked, and jumped down through the hole.

I sunk to my knees in disbelief and stared at the spot where he had disappeared. I got out my iPod and did what I usually did when I was even more annoying or upset or irritated than usual, I got out my guitar and started playing. Conveniently, when I pressed the shuffle button, the first song that came up was Kelly Clarkson’s “My Life Would Suck without You.” Oh the irony.

[Read the lyrics. It’s funny how close it is. It’s kind of important, so it would be easier for you to read them. It would help to listen to the song as well ♥]

That’s how Lucas found me two hours later, singing “Miss Independent” by Kelly Clarkson.

Oh the irony. I was surprised to feel the tears pricking my eyes as I started this song; the way it summed me up almost completely was shocking.

“Miss Independent
Miss Self Sufficient
Miss Keep Your Distance, no
Miss On Her Own
Miss Almost Grown
Miss Never let a man help her off her throne
So by keeping her heart protected
She’ll never ever feel rejected
Little Miss Apprehensive
Said, ‘Ooh, she fell in love.’”

I stopped abruptly when I noticed someone singing along. Someone with a deep, masculine voice. Probably male. At least, I hope so.

I turned around to see Lucas sitting with his feet appearing to hang through the floor, smirking. Now that’s not something you see every day. By that I mean his feet hanging through the floor, not his smirk. His smirk is such a common occurrence that it would probably be the apocalypse by the time he stopped.

He winked and made rude gestures at me, making me almost go over to smack him, but instead I paused and thought it over. He was playing with me, so why not play back? I was already behaving unlike myself, so why not go father?

So I winked back and carefully put my guitar back in its case. I strutted over to him and sat in his lap, putting my arms around his neck.

“You won’t let me fall down, will you?” I beseeched, leaning towards him. I felt satisfaction as his breathing grew slightly rougher.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, the only place I’ll allow you to fall is in love with me,” he said arrogantly, pressing me closer. I rolled my eyes at the corny line.

I thought about what one of his whores would do at this point, but the thought made me gag. I was not going that far. Hell, I wasn’t even going to go close to being near that far.

Instead, I leaned closer and started kissing his neck. I heard him groan as I slightly nipped the skin near his throat. I kissed up his neck and down and moved over to his cheek. I kissed is softly and then suddenly pressed my lips to his. He groaned louder, making me almost hurl, and fell back, pulling me with him. He pressed me harder against his chest and slightly licked my bottom lip again. I ignored his question as I tangled my hands with his hair and kicked the attic door closed with my foot. Not that far. Not yet, and probably not ever.

Just as I felt his longing almost overwhelming, I stopped almost as suddenly as I started and smirked in satisfaction, standing up. I am such a monster. But it felt so good to pick on him for once.

“You know what I love about you?” I asked, in an overly-cocky imitation of him. “How I can make you moan.”

He stared at me, completely amazed and burning bright red. Then he did something shockingly unexpected: he laughed. “That wasn’t a sorry kiss? It was a payback kiss?” he choked. I nodded, my smirk disappearing. “Honey, I think you should get clear on who makes who moan in this relationship! If I can get that type of action every time, I should piss you off more often!”

I scowled in disbelief. “You’re not mad?”

He smirked at my obvious indignation. “Not at all, sweetheart. The only thing I’m mad at is that you didn’t let me finish.”

I yelled in frustration and wiped my lips to get all Lucas off of them. “Ugh!” I exclaimed, kicking the floor. He laughed at me.

“Don’t try to out-play the player, babe. You’ll never do it.”

I scowled bigger as he slapped my butt. “I’m going to take a shower,” I muttered, pulling underclothes, black knee socks, denim shorts, and a flowing tank top.

“Can I come with you?” he asked, clearly trying to contain his laughter.

I scowled and smacked his head. “Maybe if you just died, you’d reincarnate as something more pleasant,” I snapped. “Like a rat.”

He laughed harder. “Keep the smacks coming, baby. It only makes me happier.”

I called him a very bad name and carefully lowered myself downstairs, still hearing him shaking with laughter. I looked around and spotted an open door that led to the bathroom. I ran inside, shut the door, locked it, and stripped.

I washed myself and my hair quickly and thoroughly, dried myself, and put on my clothes. I gathered my dirty clothes in my arms and opened the bathroom door. I climbed up the ladder again and dumped my clothes into one of my suitcases.

Lucas was lying on the lower bunk on his back, staring at the ceiling. He looked at me and smirked. “I wasn’t expecting you for another hour or so,” he said. “But you probably couldn’t wait to see me, right?”

I scowled and sat down on the floor, staring at him while he stared at me. So it was true. He was a player again. He was probably never a nice guy, only pretended. And, like numerous girls before me, I fell for it.

Stupid me.