“You don’t know how brave I can get because you know what, you don’t know me, you sick bastard,” I hiss at him. I tired of these games with him. I want to be on my way home like everybody else.
“Yes, the brave goddess, that’s who you are, right?” He lifts my arm. “Are you who I think you are? You are the one I’ve been looking for, I do believe.”
“You could have anyone you want. Why don’t you leave me alone?”
“Everyone leaves you, don’t they, poor baby?”
I sit up straight in the chair and stare right up into his cold blue eyes. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but my life is none of your fucking business. I’m not from here, so I don’t have to follow along like everyone else at this stupid school. I could care less if your daddy owns this place, you cannot hold somebody against their will. I hope the cameras see everything you’re doing right now.”
He remains silent.
Yes, he’s afraid because I threatened him.
He knows the law will be on my side because the cameras do not law.
“I’ll be leaving right now,” I place my backpack on my shoulder and attempt to stand up. “I’m sure you don’t want to get in trouble.”
His silence continues, but his stance becomes stronger.
“Trouble is what I love,” says Lowell in a low voice. “What you don’t know is that I can have the cameras turned off with the flip of my cold hard cash in the right hands.”
My jaw dropped at his arrogant remark.
His electric sharp blue eyes hold me in my seat.
He flashes them at me as if he could send bolts of electricity right into my heart and kill me.
He hates me.
He wants me to suffer.
He will not let me go home.
“This is attempted kidnapping,” I mutter even though I’m pretty sure he will let me go home at some point I hope.
He laughs out loud throwing his head back in the air. How could I expect him to care about any crimes this may create?
I’m the one thinking like a rational human being. He is some kind of crazed jerk that was spoiled all of his life. Nobody has ever told him no at this school. If I want to get home anytime soon, I will need to follow along with him in whatever this is supposed to be.
I drop my backpack to the floor and sit back in the chair.
“Hmm, making yourself comfortable, Goddess?” he asks stepping closer to me again.
He practically has his crotch in my face. I swallow hard and push myself back from it.
“Are you scared of what is hidden right in front of your face?”
I turn my body towards the table and place my elbows on to cup my face in my hands.
“Don’t act like you haven’t sucked dicks in your life. I know you’ve given those big city motherfuckers some good head, you little slut,” he says gripping the back of my chair.
How dare he call me a slut. I haven’t even seen a dick in person. Sure, I played around with a couple of guys back home, but we never went any further than dry humping on my mother’s sofa while she was at work. I think they were too scared to pull it out and I was too scared to figure out what to do with it.
The plastic back of the chair begins to squeak in his hand. I’m not sure if he is going to break the plastic off or yank the chair out from under me.
My head is getting a little dizzy, although I’m sitting down. I hate when this happens, most people fill this way on their feet. I can be sitting in a chair or even lying down and pass out.
I tilt over to hold my forehead in my hand to make the sensation go away. He made me feel this way when he threatened me in the hallway a month ago, so I tried not to get close enough where he could put his hands on me again. Sure, he called me names and made fun of Katelyn, but we did our best to avoid getting in the grips of Lowell and his moronic friends.
“I want to know what you like, Goddess. I want to know what makes you happy.”
I won’t tell him one damn word. He will take the information and use it against me. I am not stupid.
“Come on, Goddess, don’t you like it when I call you that?”
I don’t want him to call me at all.
“Talk to me. You should feel special getting all of my attention like this.”
“You are my goddess,” he says stroking my hair.
I feel a hint of electricity in his hand on my head. My dizziness turns into an overwhelming calmness from his touch.
I don’t want that from him.
Anybody else but my tormentor.
This is sadistic.
This is wrong.
“Are you going to tell me how much you like me calling you, Goddess?”
No way am I going to talk to this bully and tell what he wants to hear.
He continues to stroke my hair.
Then, he pushes my hair back behind my ears.
Dammit, why did I have to wear my hair down today?
He pulls my head out of my hands.
“Are you feeling sick? You can’t tell me how much you like me calling you, Goddess right now.”
He grabs both sides of my head, and before I can get free of his massive hands, he begins to bob my head up and down.
My brain feels like it is spinning in my skull. I close my eyes hoping that will dull the uneasiness in my head, holding back hot tears at the thought of fainting around this jerk.
I’m not made for this.
If he wants to harass me and shame me, go ahead.
I want to live with my brain intact.
“I like it…I like it when you call me Goddess,” I stammer out.
“Okay,
