I follow, intentionally ignoring the Italian bully as though his presence means nothing to me. Changing from my dance shoes into my worn tennies, I wave to Fin as he says goodbye and departs the room. Most of the students have started to trickle out of the classroom already. Only a few pairs remain as Professor Moriari works closely with them on their choreography.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I head toward the door without a backward glance. But for all my efforts to ignore him, I still catch sight of Nicolo in the mirror as he follows me, closing the distance between us.
Ugh.I’m really not ready for another one of his bullying sessions. My nerves are stretched to their limit, and his constant antagonism is stressing me out. Not that I let him know it.
“You and your partner seem to be nice and intimate,” he observes, catching up to me just as I step through the building’s front doors and out into the golden fall sunshine.
It’s a beautiful day outside with the trees starting to change color. The smell of dead leaves baking on the ground where they have fallen makes it feel distinctly like autumn. It’s a stark contrast to the icy anxiety gripping my heart.
I keep my eyes focused on the path ahead of me, turning toward the bus stop without a word.
“When he lifts you, does he ever cop a feel? You know, give you a bit of extra stability by sticking his finger up your pussy?”
Fighting the urge to slap Nicolo, I stay silent, pressing my lips together in an effort to keep my mouth closed.
“I bet you two use dance practice as foreplay. Does it make you wet to have his hands all over you?” Nicolo presses, his tone full of vitriol. “You two are getting so handsy, I’m starting to wonder if you might be a thing. Is that it? You’re making your own dance moves between the sheets? Was I actually wrong about the whole virgin thing?”
Fury creeps up my neck, warming my cheeks. “Fuck off, Nicolo,” I snap, my hands balling into fists.
He laughs, seeming tickled by the fact that he finally got a rise out of me. “I’m not going anywhere. So you might as well just give up and agree to go out with me. I know you’re having fun playing hard to get and all, but it’s really starting to piss me off, and you’re going to regret it if you keep it up. I find your whole prudish little tease act pretty fucking pathetic.”
I scowl as I keep walking, wishing my legs were long enough that I could outpace him. “You’re just jealous because Fin gets to touch me, and I would prefer you didn’t with a ten-foot pole. You’re not used to being rejected, but you’ll get over it. I’m nothing to you, and you’ll realize it soon enough.” Pain constricts my chest as I recall the lesson I learned from him the last time he pursued me. “If you’re looking to pop cherries, why don’t you go back to high school? That seems to be your specialty.” The bitter words escape before I can stop myself. My pulse quickens.Will my familiarity trigger his memory of what he did to me?
“Nah. I’ve already been there and done that. Popping high school girls’ cherries is so easy it’s become boring. But speaking of cherries, I still bet you’re a virgin. I doubt you and your dance partner have sex. He’s not a man enough to loosen up your frigidness. I bet you just go down on him since you’re too much of a prude to go all the way. I think your cherry is still intact, and I will take it.”
Why does it cut like a knife every time he fails to remember me?I should be long past it by now. He’s proven time and again that he’s a jerk, only bothering me because he likes a challenge, and he thinks I’ll give in to his persistence. But never again. I don’t care that he’s gorgeous and the ideal image of a man. He’s a horrible person, and getting intimate with him will only lead to more pain. Four years later, and I’m still not over the damage he did to me the first time.
“Come on, Anya,” he persuades, his voice like honey. “Just let me put it in a little bit. One time. Once you get a taste, you’ll be begging for more.”
Refusing to answer, I stride forward more quickly. I doubt I can walk faster than him, but I’m willing to give it a try if it means putting distance between us. But as I step ahead, Nicolo’s arm snakes around my waist, stopping me abruptly as he pulls me back against his chest, his hips connecting with my ass. Suddenly, I’m intensely aware of how secluded our path has become. I’m alone with Nicolo once again, and he’s taking advantage of me.
Grinding his hips forward against me as his strong arm traps me in place, his free hand curls around my hip bone, coming dangerously close to my pussy. “Come on, Anya. Just a little taste,” he breathes against my ear.
I shiver as my stomach tightens, my body responding to his touch in a way that I hate. I can feel his erection digging into my tailbone, and my panties start to moisten in unwanted anticipation. Nicolo turns me to face him, relaxing his grip just enough to move me but not let me go. My hands land on his strong chest as I try to push away, but he has me locked in an unbreakable hold.
“You know you want me,” he purrs, his gaze electric as he smiles lazily, oozing confidence.
His eyes flick down to my lips, and my heart stutters.He’s not stupid enough to go for another kiss, is he?He is. He leans in, his tall frame curving over me as he closes the distance between our lips. Rage boils up inside me, and without thinking, I lash out, slapping him soundly across the face. The clap of my skin meeting his shocks me as much as it seems to surprise him. For an instant, his eyes grow wide in confusion. Then, as his cheek starts to turn pink, he shoves me away from him.
I stumble, barely catching myself before I hit the ground, and I brace myself for further aggression.
“You little bitch,” he hisses, his eyes narrowing as they flash intense green. “I tried to take it easy on you, but we can do this the hard way if you want. I tried to be patient, but now I’m done. If you don’t agree to be with me, I’ll show you what happens when I don’t get my way.” His words growl from his throat as his face twists with fury.
For a fleeting instant, I’m reminded of Clara’s face on the rare occasion when she throws a temper tantrum, only her anger is far less violent, or terrifying. But Nicolo doesn’t move forward to hurt me. He doesn’t physically force me into submission, which I half expect after his threat. A moment of tension crackles between us.
No, he’s not going to do anything. It’s all bluster to intimidate me. “You’re all talk, Nicolo. You like to pretend you’re some big bad jerk who can get what he wants by throwing his weight around. But you’re just a spoiled brat, and you don’t scare me.”
A white lie, but my insult seems to rock him back on his heels enough that when I turn to flee toward the bus stop, he doesn’t come after me. Anxiety grips my chest until the bus doors close and we pull away from the curb without Nicolo stepping inside. He probably wouldn’t stoop so low as to use public transportation, even if it meant giving up an opportunity to corner and torture me.
My hands shake with the adrenaline coursing through me, and I breathe deeply to try and steady them. God, I hope I didn’t push him too far. I’m slightly terrified he might come to my home as his next escalation.But he doesn’t know where I live,I reason. He doesn’t even know which bus I take to get there.
When I step inside my front door a half hour later, I’m still stressed about the whole situation. Despite my logic, I check my surroundings when I get off the bus to make sure no one has followed me. Then I slip quickly upstairs and lock the door as soon as I’m inside.
“Mama!” Clara cries, dashing across the room and jumping into my arms.
I collect her against my chest, kissing the crown of her head and breathing in the subtle scent of strawberries in her hair from her kid’s shampoo. “Hello, sweet girl. How was your day?” I ask, giving her a big squeeze.
“Good.” She smiles widely as she plays with the simple gold chain around my neck. It has a dainty ballerina charm hanging from it, a present from my parents on my tenth birthday.