Chapter 2 #2
“My ass is hurting so bad that I’d like to drag it across the carpet like a dog—maybe that would help the itching,” she said to me.
“Ugh, you are disgusting!” I laughed loudly.
I was walking alone in circles on the vivid green lawn of the courtyard—I gave Nikky’s gang a wide berth, boys weren’t on the menu back then and I didn’t really get along with the other girls.
Mr. Miller was watching the kids go berserk, his hands tucked in the pockets of his deep brown linen pants.
He noticed me and walked over. My stomach twisted into a knot because I didn’t want to talk to a forty-year-old teacher about school, my vacation plans, or anything else.
We had little in common, in terms of interests or otherwise.
I was anxiously considering possible escape routes in my head.
Should I feign nausea and run away? However, before I could act on the thought, someone grabbed my clothes from behind and yanked me backwards.
I was so shocked I forgot to scream as my back hit the gnarled, rough bark of a tree.
My body and face contorted in pain. After blinking a few times to clear the sun’s image from my retina and managing to calm down, I saw a huge body towering over me.
Chase Baker.
My breath got caught in my chest—from the hard impact to my spine and from how close Chase was to me. My nostrils, my trachea, my lungs were all burning, and my brain was screaming for oxygen.
As soon as I inhaled the hot air simmering between us, my knees went weak.
His scent was incredibly pleasant—masculine, with a hint of spice.
And his body… I gulped as I watched his well-developed chest rise and fall evenly with his breathing.
His broad-shouldered frame trapped my much smaller and thinner body with ease, towering over me by two heads.
My brain buzzed like a beehive. Even if I could have managed a coherent thought, it would have been nipped in the bud by his gaze boring deeply into mine. He had a kind of deep, screwed-up beauty that found its way into your panties before his hand would.
His gaze dropped to my lips, and his thumb carefully caressed my burning face. Then he bent down and kissed me.
For a second I stiffened. Then my eyelids grew heavy and eventually darkness swallowed me. With my eyes closed, I enjoyed the touch of his soft lips on mine.
I didn’t kiss him back. And again, I forgot to breathe—because, as lame as it sounds, I had never kissed anyone before.
I had no idea what I was supposed to do.
However, the instinct coded into all of us answered: my brain went numb, and the world around me disappeared.
My lips slightly parted and received his.
His tongue slowly found its way into my mouth, and moved slowly and sensually against mine.
He had the bitter smell of cigarettes, with a touch of sweetness.
My tongue exploded with flavor. My body tingled, my brain buzzed, and I couldn’t understand why I hadn’t slapped him or pushed him away.
Just like other girls, I simply allowed his bad-boy aura to put me under its spell, and that kiss… Wow. I had no frame of reference—and I thought that as first kisses went, it was perfect. Sensational. It almost even made my hair tingle.
And it was very different from what I had seen my sister and other older boys and girls her age do in the park, in the corridors, or anywhere else in town—his body wasn’t looking for mine, his tongue didn’t seek to suffocate me, and our saliva remained in our mouths.
He did not want to devour me. He was laid-back, relaxed.
Cool—just like his clothes suggested: worn-out jeans, simple monochrome T-shirts, black sneakers.
Mr. Miller cleared his throat, which startled me into opening my eyes.
Chase must have been watching me while we were kissing.
And he did not step back when Mr. Miller told him to.
He gently cupped my face in his right hand while he was leaning on the thick trunk of the tree with his other arm, his hand over my head.
His lips slowly parted from mine and I blushed in shame because I felt a fluid, tingling warmth down there, between my legs.
Chase smiled at me.
His lips were curling in a gorgeous arch and his smile, beautiful and cruel at the same time, made his rigid features even more attractive. A lock of his dark brown hair was falling onto his forehead.
I was trembling under his touch, as his palm had slid down to my side, his fingers digging deep against the skin of my hip.
The light pain made me gasp, and I licked my lower lip, which was red and swollen from our kissing.
He cleaned our mixed saliva from my lip with his thumb, then put it into his mouth.
My face burned red as the hot June breeze caressed my skin.
“Hey, Baker, leave Miss McCarty alone! You are no longer a student of this school. You are not allowed here. Get out before I call the police!” Mr. Miller demanded.
Chase just kept smiling without giving any reaction.
“Why?” I whispered, shutting out Mr. Miller’s presence from my mind.
I didn’t care if he called the police on Chase.
He did deserve a few unpleasant nights in jail.
Still, I stayed at his side because I wanted an explanation for his absurd behavior—we had only met once before!
I didn’t get why he had kissed me. I definitely doubted that he’d been attracted to me—Chase Baker and a fourteen-year-old girl?
He leaned toward my ear, and my body ignited like charcoal. My heart pounded as if it was trying to escape.
“Because he… loves young girls. Take care, little Grace,” he whispered in such a low voice it almost felt like a silent dream.
I furrowed my brow—I found his insinuation distasteful.
I knew how much everyone hated Mr. Miller’s over-the-top friendliness—still, calling him a pedophile?
I found it outrageous. Accusing a teacher without proof?
I thought Chase was an idiot who had probably smoked away half his brain.
When the bell rang, I feverishly escaped from his embrace and clutched my books to my chest. Mr. Miller gave Chase a disapproving look and walked me back into the school building. I thought about how much it sucked that my next class was with him and bit the inside of my mouth in dismay.
We crossed the lawn in quick steps. It took a great effort not to look back. However, when we were halfway across the courtyard, I froze because I felt Mr. Miller’s hand between my shoulder blades.
You are only confused. Chase is just a stupid junkie. You can’t trust him, and you should definitely avoid him, I told myself.
During class, Mr. Miller did not take his eyes off me for even a second, which made me feel uncomfortable.
I don’t remember ever waiting for a class to end this desperately. I collected my stuff before everyone else, and as soon as I heard the bell, I jumped out of my seat. However, Mr. Miller stepped into my way and waited for my classmates to disappear into the busy maze of the school corridors.
He ponderously walked to the door and closed it. The noise in the corridor outside slowly died down. My throat went dry, but I did everything I could to keep my composure and managed to hide how scared I was.
I could hear Chase’s dark, deeply resonant voice in my head.
I barely heard Mr. Miller telling me to sit down. I slowly shook my head, and held my bag against my chest, sinking my nails in the fabric as if it were some sort of shield.
Mr. Miller shifted part of his weight onto the desk two steps away from me, and rubbed his hands together. The smell of his intense aftershave mixed with the dry chalk dust floating in the air, irritating my eyes and throat.
“So. Grace,” he began in a deep, judge-like voice. He lifted his chin and looked down at me as if he were disciplining a dumb little kid. He must have felt superior to me—he was in control. “Do you know why I wanted to talk to you?” he asked.
“No, Mr. Miller,” I said in a thin, reedy voice.
“Because of that Baker kid. He isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, if you know what I mean.”
I nodded, holding my breath.
“You’re young and pretty. You should avoid guys like Chase—guys who are trouble.”
I nodded again.
“Of course, if you’re attracted to older, more experienced men…” He surveyed my body curiously. He stepped closer confidently, and I took a step back. He flashed a predatory smile that made my throat tighten painfully. In my head, Chase was no longer whispering but shouting.
“No, Mr. Miller!” I replied a bit more loudly, trying to mask my overwhelming fear.
Mr. Miller stepped back smiling, and leaned his hip onto the desk leisurely. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and put on his “high and mighty” face again.
“Did he harass you?” he asked me. “Should I call your parents?”
“My parents?” I asked, wide-eyed. He nodded.
“No… It was only a kiss,” I tried to come up with excuses. “It would be ridiculous to call them over something like this,” I continued, angrier than I had ever been in my life.
“You know I have to inform parents about any inappropriate behavior, right?”
“Do you really call every parent whose kid you see kissing?” I asked angrily.
“Watch your manners. If you don’t, I’ll have to come up with some sort of punishment for your behavior.”
I was almost bursting with anger, but I swallowed the words on the tip of my tongue. I definitely did not want to spend the last days of school in detention—with him looking on.
“I’m sorry for being disrespectful, Mr. Miller. Can I go?” I asked, nodding toward the closed door.
“Go,” he relented.
“Miss McCarty,” he called after me when my hand was already on the doorknob.
It was the first time I had heard him address any student by anything other than a first name. I froze.
“Take care,” he said.
I nodded and burst through the door.
I didn’t care that we weren’t allowed to run in the building—I sprinted down the corridor.