Cougar

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* (back in time y’all.)
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Pressing my forehead against my desk, I sighed, sticking my hands down the front pocket of my jeans. I took a quick peek around to see everyone was paying attention to McClain as she talked about the vacation vocab words. I eyed the empty seat to the left of me where a girl would be sitting but she was out sick today and has been for the past few.

She caught at cold over Winter break.

Winter break.

Vacations.

The words made my stomach turn and my eyes started to burn as I remembered how my trip had gone.

I pulled the little SD card container out of my pocket and swiftly shoved it into my hoodies’. My fingers flicked it open and I heard the faint sound of ten blades falling on each other as they settled freely in my pocket.

I searched blindly for the one I wanted and slowly moved it from my pocket, rolling up my right sleeve just a bit.

McClain had thankfully moved me to the right side of the classroom. No one to the right of me, so I could do things like this.

I blinked down at my wrist, seeing six new cuts already there. Only one was starting to scab over; the others were fresh from this morning and last night. The scars that surrounded them were going purple from the cold weather.

I sighed softly, feeling the tears begin to well up in my eyes again.

I was so pathetic for letting her do that to me. I was weak for letting anyone ever do that to me in the first place. I went away to forget and came back with even more to remember for the rest of my life.

What was so horrid about me? What was I doing wrong?

I let my sleeve dangle over my hand as I angled the blade right over a field of blue veins. Wrists freak me, believe it or not. The thought that all that stood between a sharp blade and my veins was a thin layer of skin would normally scare me and I’d move to cut my forearm, but…God. I was such a disgrace.

I took one of the tips and slowly glided it over my wrist. Not hard enough for a cut, so it didn’t really hurt. I just needed a few scrapes to make the feelings go away. Just a measly scrape.

But it wasn’t enough.

When I slanted it so it was at an angle against my wrist, I couldn’t stop myself from pushing down even harder. I felt the blade pierce my skin in several places, then the stinging grew more intense when I quickly yanked the blade from one side of my wrist to the other.

A thin line of red rose up and filled the thin but long gap. I bunched my fingers into a fist and tightened to see the skin stretch. Unballing my fist, the blood filled the cut back up.

I went for another one just below it right as the first cut started to bleed profusely. Instead of running down my arm, the blood collected into several beads. I carefully poked the tip of the blade into each drop and watched as they collapsed one by one before spilling over. I wanted to see them drip onto the tile flooring, but they just flowed for a few inches then collected into a few more beads.

I started to become aware of the pain when the wind blew in from the slightly open window.

I marvelled down at the cuts. They looked so strange.

I needed more.

There was suddenly a hand on my shoulder. I widened my eyes at the sight of Toms standing inches out of my view.

McClain.

I didn’t look up. Even when she whispered, “Tyler…”

I knew if I did, I’d see the entire class staring at me. I focused on the ground, but saw my arm in the way. Yanking my sleeve back down, her hand gripped my wrist, stopping me. I continued to avoid eye contact as she bent down to get in my line of sight.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, eyes darting to my arm. She was gently rolling my sleeve back up. I glanced out the corner of my eye to see everyone had been staring.

I tugged my arm out of McClain’s grip and twisted it into my hoodie’s front pocket.

She sighed and tried to grab the blade from me, but I jerked it away before she could.

“Tyler,” she said again, taking my chin between her fingers. She forced me to look at her but I veered my eyes away. Leaning forward a bit, she fixed her eyes on my face and frowned. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” My voice cracked. “I’m fine.”

She shook her head, running her fingers through my hair, her thumb grazing under my eyes. “No, you’re – are you crying? What’s wrong? Tell me.”

Oh god – please - I WAS CRYING?

I immediately shook my head away from her and looked down. A tear dripped off my chin right then. I snatched my hand out of my pocket to wipe it away. Why? Was I really crying? wtf. In the middle of class, too.

“I’ll tell you later,” I muttered to her under my breath, glimpsing around to see there were two people who had gotten out of their seats to see what was going on. The girl had gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth, quickly sitting back down while the guy’s mouth fell open.

“Holy shit.”

McClain snapped at him to sit down before meeting my eyes again.

She thankfully nodded, saying, “Okay - do you want to go to the restroom to…clean up?”

I wanted to go to the restroom to get away from everyone’s curious and judgemental eyes. I nodded stiffly, skidding the chair back, bringing myself up to stand. I thanked her with a brief glance, nearly running out the door and to the boy’s restroom.

I spent the rest of the class in there, crouched in a stall with my head shoved into the palms of my hands.

Stupid. So stupid.

Why did I decide to cut myself in the middle of class? I’m such an idiot.

I waited for the bell to ring before slumping back to the French room. I avoided eye contact with McClain yet again. I noticed that my stuff had been put into my bag for me. I mumbled a thanks to her, grabbing my book bag. I flung it on and ran out the door.

Shelby was here today. That was nice. I didn’t tell her about anything that had just happened, nor did I tell Ellie. Neither of them know about the New York incident. I didn’t plan on telling anyone ever.

Yeah, right. We all know I’m telling McClain or…Allyson. She said I could start calling her by her first name since we’ve gone to third base together.

I took my jolly ol’ time getting down to the café after the lunch bell rang. The line moved amazingly fast and I had my tray of pointless food within three minutes as opposed to the usual five.

“Gonna ‘talk’ with Miss McClain?” Ellie asked with a snarky smirk when I didn’t sit down with her, Shelby and Damien.

I forced a smile at her with a nonchalant shrug.

“We’re best buds,” I reasoned, then hated myself. Shelby said the same thing to me all the time, and I fucked her. I’m hoping to fuck McClain, so maybe that’ just my lucky phrase to get lucky.

Oh, and Ellie and Shelby are dating now. How great, yep.

Ugh.

With that, I sluggishly walked with my tray up to McClain’s room…Allyson. This is gonna take some getting used to.

Normally, I’d be in such a great mood to go up to McClain’s classroom during lunch, or after school - we’d be going to third base nearly every time - but today we’d be talking about how much of an idiot I am.

I slowed my pace down even more at the thought. I was going to tell her what happened in New York. I knew I would. Or I could lie and say I missed my mom -…mum, sorry. America is really starting to change the way I talk.

Oh nooo.

I managed to waste five minutes of just walking around in circles with a tray in my hand until the new assistant principal Mr. Shultz yelled at me to get to where I was going.

Bugger.

I already hated him.

He even escorted me to McClain’s room. Now I really hated him.
McClain - Allyson’s face was priceless, though. He smiled at her as she tilted her head in confusion at me. He said, “Mr. Williams here was just wandering the halls. Said he was coming up here to have lunch with you. That true?” Allyson raised her brow at me before smiling at Mr. Shultz. She began to nod, picking up her plastic spork with a piece of ravioli on the other end.

“Yup,” she said, taking a bite. “Thanks for getting him here safely, Mike.”

Mike?

I suddenly hated that name. And don’t get butthurt if your name is Mike or Michael, okay? I’m a fictional character. I have no real thoughts or emotions.

Wait. Wasn’t this chapter supposed to be sad?

Let’s get back to that.

After ‘Mike’ said she was welcomed, he patted me on the shoulder as he backed out of the room, leaving me to breakdown mentally.

I didn’t want to talk to her about this. She’s gonna make fun of me. I know she will. Who wouldn’t?

I watched Allyson get up and grab a chair from the closes desk. She sat it down next to hers and gestured to it. “You can sit down, Tyler,” she told me with a laugh. It faded quickly. I think she suddenly remembered what we were probably going to be talking about.

I nodded, going over to take a seat. As she sat back in her swivel chair, I placed my tray on her desk. While she slowly went back to eating, I took the spork out of its plastic wrap. Passing the rotini, I grabbed the strawberry and banana yogurt. I opened it, then started to play with my food. I propped my chin against the palm of my hand and stared down at my tray.

I dreaded waiting for her to initiate the conversation.

And as soon as I thought maybe she was going to let it go, she spoke.

“Tyler,” she said softly.

I looked up for a spilt second to mumble out a “Hmm?”

She opened her mouth to say something but sighed first. Then -

“Are we going to talk about it or…?”

Probably.

“What’s there to talk about? I’m sad.”

“Is it because of your mom? Home?”

There it was. A perfect chance to lie. Yes, they both were some of the many reasons why, but not why I did it this morning. I could easily say either was the reason. But I wound up shrugging.

“Sort of.”

“Sort of? What - what’s wrong?”

“A lot.”

“Elaborate?”

I angled my head back down to my yogurt and twirled the spork around the container. How was I going to tell her?

“New York,” I said simply, “wasn’t the best.”

She sat up in her chair. Her brows crinkled together in a mixture of confusion and concern. “Did something happen?” she asked, her voice rising temporarily. “You didn’t get…mugged or something did you?”

Can my pride be stolen from me? ‘Cause that shit’s good as gone.

“Ah…” I shook my head, deciding being raped and mugged weren’t really the same thing.

She relaxed a bit. “Then what?” she pressed after a mildly relieved sigh. I started picking out all the strawberry seeds from my yoghurt. Wiping them onto the napkin, I shrugged again.

“It’s…embarrassing.”

“I’m not gonna laugh,” she said, reaching forward to put her hand on mine. Her fingers rubbed over my knuckles as she shifted to try to get in my line of sight. She leaned back abruptly when her fingers didn’t touch smooth, clean skin. She blinked down at my scabbing-over knuckles.

I didn’t give up that easily. I put up a fight - I swear. I’m not weak. I’m not.

“Did you get in a fight?”

I went with the same short answer.

“Sort of.”

She lightly closed her hand over mine.

“Please tell me so I can help you.”

Her eyes were starting to get glassy. My jaw clenched when I felt tears try to break though.

“I…can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “No, no. It’s - court-worthy.” The way she looked up at me…she seemed so worried. There was a lump forming in my throat. I tried to swallow it away.

She whispered, “Please…tell me. I won’t judge you. I promise I won’t. If something happened - that was obviously really traumatic…I need to know. I have to help you. It hurts my heart to know there’s something happening that makes you do that to yourself. I care about you, Tyler. I really do.”

And cue the waterworks. The tears were violently building. “No…I can’t…” You could hear in my voice that I was about to breakdown. But I really didn’t want to, so I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to hold them in.

“Why? Please tell me what happened. I’m your friend; you can tell me anything, can’t you?”

I nodded even though I knew I couldn’t. I sniffled.

“Please don’t make me tell you.”

She was quiet for a second. “Something did happen…right? That was really bad? What? Tyler, you can tell me. I promise I won’t tell anybody. You’re really starting to scare me.” Her voice cracked this time and her free hand went to cover her mouth. “Just…tell me.”

I sat back, leaning against the chair. I broke eye contact to stare at the ground, biting my lip, but the tears still threatened to pour and I let out a whimper, shoulders shaking.

I caved.

“I’ll tell you…just…please don’t make me look at you…”

It took her a few seconds but she finally said, “Okay.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down and make myself easier to understand, but I knew the second I tried to talk, my voice box would crumble. I inhaled another deep breath and tried to let it out. It wouldn’t be said.

I’m weak, a humiliation to the male gender everywhere. It shouldn’t have even happened. She shouldn’t have taken advantage of me like that.

To give myself a few more second to stall, I glanced up at the clock. Since I had taken all the time in the word to get from fifth period to the café to here, there was only about five minutes left before the bell rang.

Five minutes to waste.

I really didn’t want to tell her.

A thought came to me. My paper. The one I wrote for Creative Writing about New York. I had gotten it back and graded this morning. Allyson could read it.

That was better than me having to tell her face-to-face.

“What?” she asked when I bent over to grab my notebook from my backpack. I flipped it open and looked down at it. I read the little note Mrs. Orr left at the bottom.

Tyler,
This seriously broke my heart.
I cried like a baby. You’re a trooper
and I love you. I’m always here to talk
if you need me.
Stay strong, kiddo.

I wonder if Allyson will have the same reaction. If she’ll be as supportive.

I slowly took the thirteen pages of paper from the notebook and placed it right in front of her on her desk.

She furrowed her brows again.

“What’s this?”

“Read it - not now, but…read it.” I slid my notebook back into my bag, then drew it closed. Slinging it on, I started to stand, grabbing my tray. Her eyes followed me in confusion on my way over to the door.

“You didn’t eat - where are you going?”

“My food’s cold.” I didn’t really have to lie; I had the last lunch period. We always get the cold stuff. I stepped through the doorway, mumbling, “I’ll talk to you later.”

I could hear her flip pass the rubric and onto the first page.

-

I came home to a thought-to-be empty house. Ellie was with Shelby and Damien was at marching band practice.

I thought I was free to grab a bite from the kitchen then eat in my room before passing out to finally sleep for a while, but walking into the kitchen a body startled me.

Vanessa sat at the dinner table with her head in her arms. She was repeatedly rubbing her forehead against her arm. One of her arms were outstretched and I saw the bruising on her inner elbow. The amount of small circular holes on her forearm and bicep made me cringe.

Track marks.

Maybe that’s why she is the way she is. Heroin is one nasty drug. Makes you do some crazy stuff. He got her into it. She was a decent person before she gave in.

But on the bright side, she might as well be considered deaf; every time she does it, she zones out like crazy. I could literally set the house on fire, have the fire alarm go off, then run around screaming in my underwear, wildly waving around a chain, letting it hit everything I go near.

Seriously. It’s that bad.

By the sight of a needle laying on a sheet of tin foil, I thought that meant she had just shot up, so I could go over to the fridge and get something that needed to be microwaved, heat it up then leave without her noticing, but the second I stepped foot into the kitchen, her head popped up at the sound of my feet hitting the hardwood floor.

I froze and stared at her pale, sunken-in face.

I squeaked out, “Hi.”

The edges of her chapped lips curved upwards. She closed her red eyes as she slurred out, “Hey.” Since my dad met her in Oregon and not Straya, she has an American accent. Sometimes I expect her to crack one out on accident. She’s been living with us for two years now.

Not thinking she was up for conversation, when she slowly opened her eyes, I pointed to the fridge as a way of telling her I was hungry. She yawned, waving her hand in the air to say she understood what I meant.

I made my way over and just got a bag of cheddar Jalapeño Cheetos. I grabbed a Propel from the fridge.

“Grab me a beer, would ya?”

I nodded back at Vanessa, gripping onto a Heineken.

She muttered, “Thanks,” taking it from me. I started for my room when she stopped me. She forced a gulp of the alcohol down her throat. “Sit with me,” she said, gesturing limply to the chair beside her. “I haven’t talked to anyone all day.”

Probably because you’re a terrible person.

I looked at the chair beside her and didn’t know how I felt about being that close to her. I stammered out an excuse.

“Oh, I - got a lot of homework. I have to write an essay for English. It’s due Wednesday and I haven’t even started.”

“You can’t take a few minutes to talk to me? I thought we were closer than that.”

I laughed assuming that was a joke because it was ridiculous. I wouldn’t even consider us acquaintances. She’s just one of Satan’s junkies staying in my house again.

Her mouth was still in a half-assed smile. She kicked the chair out, taking another gulp.

“Sit.”

Just a few minutes. I could do that. As long as all she wants to do is talk.

I walked at a sloth’s pace over to sit down. We sat in silence for a couple seconds until I saw her smile faintly.

“Do you remember your house in Oregon? What happened in the kitchen?”

My back tensed. I did remember.

“Yeah.”

“Wasn’t it good?”

Taking an interest in the orange and green colouring of the Cheetos’ bag, I shrugged. I snapped the cap off my drink. “It was fine,” I mumbled, tipping the bottle back for a sip.

She knocked her head to the side. “Why can’t we be like that again?” she asked, pouting at me. “Why don’t you want me anymore?”

I briefly glanced at her. Around her eyes were even redder than her eyeballs. Sure, she looked a mess - and all the shit she’s done to me for the past two years were still in the back of my mind - but I couldn’t help but think she was attractive. If she just brushed her mane of brown hair just once or laid off the drugs for a bit, she’d be pretty cute, like she was when I met her three years ago.

That doesn’t make it any better. I still hated her with a passion. It was nice the first time she ever hit on me and, yeah, we did some stuff more than once, but then she decided to throw the word ‘no’ and its meaning out the window.

I wasn’t going to let myself forget that.

I didn’t know what to say back to her, so I didn’t say anything. I gulped down another sip.

She suddenly asked, “Your birthday’s in a few weeks, isn’t it?” When she smirked at me, I regretted nodding. She batted her lashes at me as she said, “I’m thinkin’ of giving you your present early. Do you want to know what it is?”

A restraining order?

“I guess.”

Her smile took up her face.

“Well, every birthday boy needs some birthday sex, right?”

I pushed out a forced smile.

“You’re getting me a hooker?”

“The one and only,” she smiled at me, jabbing her thumb towards herself. I stared at her then glugged about half my drink. Is she ever going to give up? I don’t want her like that.

“I’d rather have money.”

“Oh,” she snorted. “You’ll change your mind, just you wait. You want any of this?” she asked, motioning to the tin foil in front of her. She unfolded it to show me the chalky powder it contained. I saw the spoon and a lighter under the foil.

I watched her move a rubber band up from her wrist to above her elbow. She started to take another out of her hair and held it out for me. I thought her hair was down, but apparently not. It didn’t even fall down; it was a rat’s nest of thin strands of dirty hair.

I inhaled as I shook my head.

“I don’t do that anymore. Thanks, though.”

“You sure?” she asked, scooping a few pinches of the powder into the spoon. She picked up the lighter and the spoon. “Your dad’s not coming home tonight. I got a lot.”

“He’s not?” I said, raising my brow. “Why?” Though I was relieved because that meant Ellie could sleep in her own bed - if she was coming home, that is. It also meant I would be alone with her. No one was gonna be here to protect me.

“Workin’ overtime. Looks like it’s just gonna be me and you.” She smirked at me, flicking the lighter on. “You can have your birthday present now.”

Suddenly sex sounded like the worst thing in the entire world.

She ran the flame repeatedly under the spoon. After a few seconds the off-white chalky powder began to melt into a brown liquid.

“I can’t,” I stammered out slightly. I tried to regain my composure. “I’m staying at a friend’s tonight.”

“Oh.” She frowned, but didn’t stop melting the heroin. “Who?”

I picked a random name off the top of my head.

“Drew - he’s in all of my classes.“

“Well, do you have to go right away? It can be a quickie.”

I shrugged down at my almost empty Propel bottle.

“Guess so - actually…” I pulled my phone out on my hoodie pocket. “I said I’d be there by four. It’s 3:30. I should go.” I started to get up, ignoring her pouting face. “Another time.”

“Well…alright.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” I grabbed my drink and took off for my room. Hooking my arms around my stomach, I leaned up against my closed door and slithered down to sit on the floor.

So, great. I had no plans tonight. What am I going to do?

I considered the local park, Herrlinger. Sometimes I’d go here in the middle of the night. A few of those times were after my mum died. I’d stop by the railroad tracks nearly every time and lay in between the railings, just waiting for a train to come by.

That never happened. But by the time I made it to the park, I’d always hear a train go by.

It pissed me off so much.

I slid my mobile out of my pocket and scrolled through my contacts. I needed somewhere to go, but first…I found Damien and Ellie’s numbers.

I texted them that they shouldn’t come home tonight. It would just be Vanessa with them and who knows what she’d do.

After hitting send, I continued to look for a familiar name. I zipped by one that seemed like a good idea at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised how stupid that would be.

But she was the only person I felt comfortable enough to spend the night with. The only one who would actually care.

Then again, she’ll interrogate me about the paper.

Nonetheless, I hesitantly clicked on the contact marked ‘McClain’ and slowly typed my message.

Nothing too great. I just said I needed a place to stay the night at; no one would be home tonight and being alone in an empty house freaked me out.

‘I don’t know,’ was what she texted back. ‘Is that appropriate?’

‘No. But who cares? Would you rather come over here?’

Minutes passed and then she said she’d be there in a few.

I felt the weight of the world lift off my shoulders and hopped up to throw a change of clothes into a separate book bag. Dropping in my iPod charger and a pair of earphones, I made my way to the door.

I peeked into the kitchen to see Vanessa with her face smashed onto the table. Her arm she always shot up was extended out. The needle was in her other hand.

Either she was dead or really fucked up.

I secretly hoped it was the first.

I tried to quietly peel open the front door before blowing this popsicle stand. I had to wait a few minutes until I’m assuming McClain’s car rolled up. She unrolled the passenger side window and poked her head into view to let me know it was her sitting in the driver’s seat.

I thanked her heaps for being so cool and letting me stay the night with her.

“Anything for you,” she said with big fake smile. I got in and closed the door, praying she wasn’t going to bring up the New York thing.

But then -

“So…I read your paper.”

I died inside.

“And?”

“And…” She grabbed my hand with hers and squeezed it. I glanced up to meet her eyes. They were sad. Very sad. That was all she did/said. I was good with that.

We drove to the presumably ‘middle-class’ part of town. Eh. I suspected she was loaded. She dresses real nice.

Her flat was pretty alright. Average.

I followed her out of the car and up the pathway to the front door. She locked the car with a little remote and unlocked her house.

“Is this a bad neighbourhood?” I asked.

“I’m paranoid,” she explained, laughing shortly. “Everyone always thinks the bad stuff will happen to other people and not them. You never know.” I heard the clicking as she pulled the key out then pushed the door open.

I went in behind her and marvelled at her house while she continued talking.

“There was this group of guys that went around one night breaking into every single house on this block. I was spared, thankfully, because I was the only one who actually locked all my doors and windows from the beginning.”

“Damn,” I muttered, taking a break from eyeing her couch that was covered with a blue blanket with white snowflakes on it.

“Yep.” She dropped her set of keys in a little bowl by the door. Shaking off her cardigan, she was left wearing a light purple tank top. She flung it onto the couch and walked to the other side of the living room to what I could tell was a kitchen.

“You can sit down. Do you want anything to drink or eat?”

Plopping down on the couch, I shook my head.

“No. Thanks, though. I ate before I came over.”

“Alright.” I could see most of the kitchen from where I was sitting. Instead of a wall separating the two rooms, it was a bar sort of thing. She had it lined with three candles every foot or so. I looked passed a vase of purple roses and creepily watched Allyson open the fridge to grab a can of Ginger Ale. I suddenly wanted one.

She grabbed something else from the fridge but I looked away to admire her apartment. The white walls were covered with scattered paintings and a few pictures. The paintings were things like Van Gogh and Monex or Mone or something like that. There was a weird ‘x’ thing at the end. One of the pictures was of a girl who looked like she was modelling or something. The others were family, I think.

“Who’s that?” I asked, tipping my head towards the picture when she joined me back in the living room. In her hands were two cans on Ginger Ale. She set both down on the little coffee table. Leaning back into the cushions of the couch, she answered me.

“I brought you a drink if you want it. And that’s my roommate’s sister. She was a model for about a month.”

“Oh. Who’s your flatmate?”

“You know Miss Otte?”

“The science teacher?” She was incredibly hot. Allyson nodded, popping the tab of her Ginger Ale up.

“I went to college with her,” she said, taking a sip. “We’ve been friends ever since. She should be home by…six, I think.” She grabbed the remote that was apparently in between us in the cushions. “Do you want to watch something?” she offered, flicking the big, boxy TV to life.

“SpongeBob’s always a good time.”

She smiled at me but nodded.

“Channel forty-two it is.”

We got through two episodes before she realised I wasn’t one of her adult friends. I was in high school, and school typically means homework.

But I wanted to make out instead.

“Where’s your room?” I asked with a smile. Her teeth showed as she grinned at me.

“You can find out after you finish your homework,” she said, poking my leg.

“Why not before? I’d like to know what I’m working towards.”

“No. I know you, Tyler. You’ll ‘forget’ all about your homework and suggest we play tonsil hockey instead.”

I flashed a smile.

“You just understand me, McClain.”

“Allyson,” she reminded me, smiling. “We’re obviously on first name bases now, I think.”

“And since we’re on first name bases…” I scooted closer to her. She laughed. “…we should ditch homework and fuck.”

She tried to get rid of her smile by biting her lip. Bad move.

She whispered with a slow shake to her head, “We can’t sleep together.”

“Why not?” I whined. Knowing what she was going to say, I talked over her. “We already did all the other stuff. It’d be dumb to not go all the way.” She leaned her head back to be propped up against the back of the couch. The way her neck looked - I wanted to kiss it and leave hickeys. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she smiled at me.

“You really want to sleep with me?” she asked softly.

I leaned back too and nodded.

“So, so much.”

“Why?”

I want to forget.

“I like you.”

Her cheeks were getting red.

I inched closer and closer and when she didn’t make any signals for me to stop, I sure as hell didn’t. Her eyes drifted shut when our lips touched. I felt her slowly give more and more into the kiss. Her hand going to be placed on my shoulder told me I had her.

I kissed her more aggressively, and when she matched the force, I ran up fingers lightly up the front of her shirt. Only for a few seconds. She sighed impatiently when I quickly pulled my hand from her shirt to grip onto her hip. I moved my hand over her back pockets slowly until she moved her lips down to my neck.

My hand went stationary as my brain tried to comprehend how good that felt.

Both of her hands gripped either side of my neck while she kissed my skin at varying paces. Her tongue poked out every so often to twirl around in fast circles against a certain spot on my neck. My eyes fluttered closed and I tried to hold in a moan that was building up in the pit of my throat.

I had the ache to be on top of her.

Pushing her down gently so she was on her back, I fell in between her legs, taking back over. This time I was the one breathing on her neck in between kisses. She, on the other hand, didn’t bother to suppress her moans.

She wound her fingers through my hair, trying to steady her breathing. My mouth stopped just above the top of her tank top.

I looked up to see her eyes were shut as she smiled faintly up the ceiling. Her hands were on my shoulders, clutching my shirt. I slid the straps off her shoulders and reached around her to unclip her bra.

Her hands went to cup her exposed breast and she bit her lip down at me, smiling deviously.

I placed kisses over the tops of her breasts, working my way down. I kissed and touched gently at first, then firmer, harder. When I bit down, her hand flew up to her mouth, muffling her gasp.

“Oh, again,” she whispered, knocking her head to the side. “Again.”

I took her hard nipple between my fingers and twisted roughly. She moaned, arching her back. She grinded up against me even harder when I bit down on the other.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, that feels so good.”

I grabbed her hand and guided it down to the waist of my jeans. Her fingers fumbled with the button, tripping over themselves to undo the zipper. They slid eagerly into my pants, cupping it through the thin material of my boxers before slipping inside of them. Her nails traced over me gently from the tip down to the base.

I finally moaned and covered her hand with mine, squeezing softly.

She had gone back to kissing my neck and stopped to pull her hands up to grab the bottom of my shirt.

I wasn’t thinking. I let her pull it up and off. I didn’t think of all the scars and bruises.

She didn’t seem to notice. She flung my shirt down to the ground and went back to kiss me on the lips. But her hands, they glided from my neck to my shoulders.

I wanted to grab her hands and pin them down so she couldn’t feel anything.

I was too late.

They rubbed quickly over my shoulders and that was all it took for her to jerk away from me. She darted her eyes to see the raised cuts and scars.

I rushed to push my lips against hers again but she whispered, “Tyler, ” shoving me away. “There’s more to it, isn’t there? It’s not just what happened in New York. Are you going to tell me?”

“It’s just New York,” I mumbled, leaning forward to kiss her again. “I swear.”

She jerked her head back.

“Those are not recent. I -…” She gripped my shoulders and forced me down a few inches to get a look at my shoulder blade. A sharp pain rang through my back. She asked nearly inaudible, “Is that a bruise?”

Ah, *bleep.*

I quickly shot out, "Eczema," without thinking. She knew that didn't make any sense as well and narrowed her eyes at me. I sighed. “New York,” I lied again, tilting back to sit up. I reached down to grab my shirt while she laid with her fingers pressing against her lips.

“Are you lying to me?” she asked, pulling the straps of her tank top back over her shoulders. I hesitated before answering. I wanted to cry to her about it. I did. But she’d freak out.

So I shook my head, yanking my shirt back on.

“No.” I turned to put my feet onto the floor. She sat up, too, but scooted over grab my hand in hers. Her fingers laced around mine.

“What’s your family like? Dad, grandparents?”

“They're family,” I said, shrugging slightly.

“You live with your dad, right?” I slowly nodded, going to look at the ground, seeing her eyes skim the long scar on my face. “Were you lying when you said he was just abusive when you were a kid? Is that why you needed a place to stay the night at?”

That word - ‘abusive.’ I hated it.

“No.”

“Tyler,” she said sternly. “I really need you to be honest with me, because I can’t let you stay in a house where you’re getting hurt. I have to do something.”

“There’s nothing happening. I am being honest.”

“Is he abusive to Ellie and Damien, too?”

I threw my hands up into the air in exhaustion.

“No - he’s not like that.”

“Then what happened? You’re upset about something, enough to…hurt yourself like that. And…” Her voice broke as she bunched her lips together. She whispered out, “Y-you’ve got bruises.”

“I’m fine.”

“No. You’re not.”

I pressed my mouth into a straight line and stared blankly at the TV. I immersed myself into an ad about a Moen retractable sink faucet.

Not gonna lie, I jumped when the front door was suddenly pushed open and a woman with long, wavy ginger hair stood in the doorway. She shook off her jacket then stared at me with confused eyes.

“Uhm,” she laughed out, throwing her jacket on a recliner by the door. “Tyler, right?”

I nodded up at Miss Otte while Allyson spoke.

“He needs a place to stay tonight.”

“Oh, well…” She jerked her hand up to wave at me. “Enjoy your stay. What are we watching?” she asked, tipping forward to squint at the TV. She answered herself not even seconds later when Drake and Josh were on the screen, both in pink wigs.

“Oh, this is a weird episode,” she commented, smiling lightly. She glanced back at us. “May I join?”

Allyson and I hesitated before scooting to separate ends of the couch.

“Be my guest,” McClain muttered, motioning to the empty space between us. Otte popped down in the spot and kicked her feet up onto the coffee table.

“Hey.” Otte put on a scowl and narrowed her eyes at me. “Shouldn’t you be doing your homework, child?”

I was forced to. We didn’t get to finish watching Drake and Josh. What a waste of having cable.

-

“You can sleep on the couch,” Ally said to me, plunking a pile of blankets and a few pillows onto the sofa.

Yeah, so Allyson just feels like such a long name. I'm a lazy Aussie. She will now be 'Ally' to me. Hope she doesn't mind.

It was almost eleven at night. The only light sources were the faint shine from a streetlight outside and the telly. Otte had gone to bed around ten, leaving Ally and I to watch Food Network alone together. We didn’t bother with a make-out session. Things were kind of…awkward now that she was slowly finding out every secret about me.

Dropping a pillow behind my head, I grabbed one of the fleece blankets and covered up with it.

“Alright.”

“Mmhmm. Goodnight.”

I flopped over to have my back facing the TV, saying over my shoulder, “You too - ah. Thanks, by the way, for doing this.” She smiled at me, making her way to the hallway.

“Welcome. Now go to sleep.”