I haven’t seen Him since Sunday. He seems to have been skipping Math. This is a Good Thing. No X rated texts either. Maybe he has had his fun and has discarded me. I can pose like a spurned and ruined woman in a Victorian novel. Lock myself away, never to be with a man again.
I am relieved, I suppose. The guilt and constant stress was killing me. I am still expecting him to expose and ridicule me. Every morning, as I walk up to those steps I expect comments and looks and laughter following me, and there is no relief when it doesn’t happen because I am convinced it WILL happen. It would be better to have it happen now rather than have the constant stress of waiting for it. And the worst of it is, not being able to understand my own actions. He is behaving how he is programmed to behave, selfishly and demandingly like any Alpha Male worth his salt. But my behaviour has not been so excusable. Why have I given in twice? Once, is maybe excusable but twice? Am I some kind of masochist? I thought I had more self-respect.
Poor Stu. He has no idea what is going on with me and hopefully, he never will. I shudder to imagine his response if he ever found out. Me cavorting with his chief tormentor. It will put him in therapy for life. I was supposed to be defending him, making things better and I do nothing except make a whole lot of trouble for myself.
Dad wanted me to show him how to use Garageband tonight but I couldn’t face such an innocent father/daughter bonding session with all the confusion in my head. If he could see what I can see when I close my eyes he would die a thousand deaths.
Is this what it feels like to be addicted to crack? You know it’s doing you no good but you have to have it. I did a very good job of convincing myself it was all over last night and then I walk into school this morning, straight into Him. He was leaning against the locker next to mine, plugged into his iPod. He didn’t even look at me, gazed in the other direction as I took out my books. I was trying to breathe through my mouth, because no way did I want a hit of his smell. I was also trying not to hurry because I didn’t want to show any fear. Isn’t that what you have to do when confronted with a wild animal? Stay calm and back off slowly? He started singing very quietly and surprisingly in tune, ‘If you wanna go and take a ride wit me…If you wanna go and get high wit me…’ and then he looked straight at me through those long lashes and grinned.
Oh Jesus-Mother-of-God. I swear, certain parts of me leapt to attention so violently I nearly passed out.
Then he walked off, down the hall, in that slow graceful stride he has. I had to stay there, stuck to the locker until I could trust myself to move without wobbling. My mouth was dry, my heart was hammering, I felt like I had been attacked and left barely alive and he hadn’t even done anything except sing a stupid rap song!
I spent the rest of the day feeling like road kill. I couldn’t concentrate on a thing. Stu was yammering on about something vaguely important at lunchtime and I didn’t take any of it in. Mrs Prentice’s explanation of symbolism in ‘The Yellow Wallpaper’ completely passed me by and I have no idea what Mr Gallo was talking about in Chemistry, or indeed what my lab partner did with those test tubes. I was waiting for something. I guess I was waiting for the wild animal to come and finish me off. Then came Math, last period. That’s what I had been waiting for and there he was slouched in his seat, laughing loudly and basking in his entitlement. I swear him and his friends all looked at me when I walked in and I had the sinking feeling that the end had come. Thank God Drexler is a total tyrant and insists everyone works in silence. I was still in turmoil of course. Just being in the same room as that Douche, makes my brain turn to jelly. It’s his smell, or his goddamn aura, I don’t know but I wished to God he would just stop existing. Forty minutes later I was developing a thunderous headache and when Drexler dismissed us I made for the door like a hunted animal. But then Drexler stopped me and I could have screamed. It turned out he had noticed my ‘recent lack of focus’ and was wondering if anything was wrong, blah, blah, bah. Like I was going to tell him, “Well actually Mr Drexler, Sir, I very nearly fucked the biggest sociopath in school the other day and I can’t stop thinking about doing it again.” And the whole time, I could see Him over Drexler's tweedy shoulder, pretending to be finishing off his work but actually listening to our conversation and smirking.
Of course, he was waiting for me outside the room. He looked around to make sure no one would see and backed me against a wall, whispering into my ear, “So what’s causing your lack of focus then?” and sliding his finger under the hem of my T-shirt.
I shivered and muttered through gritted teeth, “This is sexual harassment.”
“Only if you don’t like it.”
He had me there. His lips met the bare skin of my neck and I pulled away. “I have a headache. I am going home,” and I slid away from him and left him standing there looking somewhat hot and bothered, I have just realized. In fact, I suspect he had to stay there for a while before he was fit to be seen in public.
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