“You’re more complicated than you let on.”
“You don’t need to worry about me.”
"Oh, trust me. I don't worry about you at all. Too busy for that."
His expression turns cloudy. “Too busy at work?”
“Too busy period. I would rather watch paint dry than worry about you.”
“You think you’re so clever.”
“That’s a line from Brett if I ever heard one. You boys all talk about me and compare notes? Why are you all so fascinated by me anyhow?”
“Trust me. Fascinated isn’t the word for it.”
His hand is still rubbing my throat with his strong fingers. He could change his mind and stop comforting me and start to cause me pain again, but the strength in his fingers, the sure motions… it makes me wonder if he knows how to finger a girl.
Not that I’ll ever find out.
“I shouldn’t have…” Tyler shakes his head. “Get to homeroom,” he orders.
I hate that he's ordering me around, but I do need to get to homeroom. Of course he doesn't step back, so I have to brush against him to get by.
The heat of his gaze on my backside has me shivering, and I almost wiggle my ass, but then I recall that they know I put on a show for money at the auto shop. How in the world had they learned that?
So I behave, and I take my seat a minute later. Tyler doesn’t come in for a few minutes, though.
“Mr. Tremaine, why are you late?” Mr. Winters asks, his tone not nearly sharp enough. The man has been shooting daggers at me since I entered, which I do not appreciate at all. He really is such a dick but of course not to any of his favorites, like Liam and the Mutineers.
“Went to the bathroom,” Tyler asks.
I stiffen and shoot him a glance. Why would he have to go to the bathroom? Don’t tell me that his choking me and then rubbing my throat got him all hot and bothered. That couldn’t be it, right? Don’t tell me he’s some sadist who gets off on torture. Ew.
No, no. I’m just reading into things. Maybe he just had to take a piss, or maybe he didn’t go to the bathroom at all and was just covering for whatever he had been doing.
Homeroom ends. Calculus brings with it harassment from Brett as well as the announcement that there will be a test on Friday. Fuck me.
Tyler and I verbally spar again in English class. I almost feel bad for Mr. August. I don’t know what it is, but Tyler seems almost human again in English.
That is until he calls me a bitch, so I call him an asshole, and Mr. August seems ready to send us both to detention when the bell rings, and I bolt out of there before he can issue it.
All week long, the boys are terribly cruel to me. It's mostly comments, so just verbal shit, not so much anything physical. Tyler especially seems unwilling to touch me again, which makes me happy. There's no doubt about that. I do not want any of them to touch me.
As for Liam, he’s kept his distance at least. Could be worse, I suppose.
Until I spy Andrea at the end of the day on Thursday.
“Andrea!” I call.
She smiles at me and waits for me to catch up. “I’m glad you decided against chasing after one of the Mutineers, but Liam? He’s probably worse.”
“Oh, trust me. I do not want anything to do with Liam.”
“Seems to me that he’s already planning your wedding.”
“Fuck me,” I groan.
“Just be careful,” she advises me. “You don’t want to encourage him. Try to get him to not want you anymore. That’s the best I can say. It has to be his idea.”