Chapter 5
Five
Deja
The first thing I notice when I wake up is how relaxed I feel.
I’m warm and loose and comfortable in a way I usually never am in the mornings, but then I quickly notice something else.
There’s an unfamiliar soreness between my legs, not pain, but more a sensitivity.
And then everything comes back. Brandon’s mouth on me, the sting and pleasure of him twisting my nipples, the way I begged him to touch me like I had no shame at all.
I groan and cover my face with my hands.
What was I thinking? Of all the people in the world, it had to be him?
Brandon, who called me a hood rat to my face and told me he’d never want me.
Well, that was a lie, obviously. I can still see the way he looked at me—his body tense, his jaw clenched, his dick hard enough to cut glass. And it was big. I remember that too.
I’ve never done anything like that before.
I’ve fooled around, yeah—Jayden and I used to mess around when we were together—but it never felt like this.
Jayden was gentle. Patient. He never pushed for more than I was ready to give, and honestly, that was part of why I liked him.
But I never wanted him the way I wanted Brandon.
I never felt that heat in my chest or that throb between my thighs that made me forget to care about the consequences.
And that’s what messes with my head the most. I don’t even like Brandon.
He’s cruel and toxic and tries to make me feel small on purpose—but when he touched me, I wanted more.
Even now, thinking about it, that same sensation stirs deep inside me.
I want to bury it, pretend last night didn’t happen, but my body won’t let me forget.
It remembers exactly what it felt like to be with him.
How am I supposed to face him now?
I force myself out of bed, and get dressed for my run.
If I lie here any longer, I’ll start thinking too much.
In any case, I know better than to wallow.
When you’re feeling off—you get up early, work hard, and get your head right.
So, I lace up my shoes to go on my usual Sunday morning run, determined to restore some kind of order.
But then, as I’m heading downstairs, I discover a text on my phone from Brandon.
It has the caption “More where this came from,” with a picture attached.
In it I’m making the ahegao face—eyes crossed, tongue out, full commitment—and I’m winking.
Like I’m auditioning for some kind of OnlyFans meme compilation.
What the fuck? I mean, I didn’t expect him to pretend like last night never happened, but this feels like he’s taunting me.
When I get back from my run, I find my parents eating cereal and Brandon in the kitchen making a smoothie.
I have to wait for my turn, so I’m just standing around waiting for him to finish because I don’t want to get sweat on the dining chairs.
Like me, he’s wearing workout clothes, his toned arms and lower legs bare.
I scan him up and down, the large hands, the hint of a shadow on his jaw, the thick, shiny black hair.
What is it about this boy that made me react so strongly to him last night?
Was it his good looks or the brutal way he touched me.
He catches me staring and winks, a smug smile hovering on his lips, his pale blue eyes bright.
Discreetly, so the parents don’t see, I give him the finger, which only seems to amuse him more.
“It’s already 9:15, Deja,” my mom says. “You should take a shower now if you don’t want to be late for church.”
It’s fine. I don’t get my usual protein shake before church.
I make do with a banana. It’s no big deal.
I’m not as anal as Brandon about my schedule being disrupted.
I swear I’m not. I’m just irritable because instead of sitting with my parents where he sat the last few weeks, he’s put himself in the same pew as me and my friends.
Even more annoying, Mackenzie is actually talking to him, even though she knows how I feel about him.
I told her that he just got out of juvie, but that only made him more attractive to her.
I’m not sure he ever went to juvie, to be honest. I heard a rumor, but nothing solid.
I shoot him a dirty look that I don’t try to hide from the girls, but a few seconds later my phone vibrates and when I sneak a look it’s a picture of us sitting on the bench last night.
We look very cozy and my heart thunders at the thought of anyone seeing us like that.
I can’t even come up with a plausible excuse for why I’d be looking at him like that, not even one that would fly with people who know how fucked up I was.
I close the text, but not before Shelby gets a quick look at it.
“Is that you and Gio?” she whispers. She’s trying to sound like she doesn’t care, but I can see the hurt in her eyes.
We haven’t talked about it, and she knows Gio and I are talking, but I think she’s still holding out hope he’ll notice her.
I think quickly. If I say it’s Gio, Shelby’s feelings will be hurt.
But if I don’t say it’s Gio, then I’ll have to explain who I’m in the picture with.
Before I can think of an answer, the pastor tells everyone to stand and by the time we’re done singing that hymn, Shelby’s not focused on the picture anymore.
After service we congregate in the fellowship hall. Shelby has to go get her little brother from childcare, and I see that Mackenzie and Brandon are STILL talking. What the hell? I step right into the middle of that and say,
“Can you go check if they have any hot chocolate, Kenz? I gotta talk to Brandon about something.”
She looks at me in confusion, but none of these girls are going to gainsay me without good cause.
“You need to stay away from my friends,” I hiss in a low voice. He smirks at me, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement.
“Or what?” he asks. “Mackenzie and I have a lot of catching up to do. I just found out she’s a math tutor. Did you know that?”
“What do you mean ‘catching up?’”
“Kenz and I were best buds back in pre-school. I’d say small world, but this is where I grew up, isn’t it. This is the church where I learned to say the Lord’s Prayer. My mom used to be in the choir.”
“Well, it’s my church now,” I say, “and she’s my friend.”
He doesn’t respond. He’s wearing a dress shirt, dark slacks, and a tie and honestly, he looks like he belongs here.
There’s an air of teenage recklessness about him, but also a kind of confidence like he knows this place.
He could be any of the boys here, and it hits me even harder when he gives a slight upward nod to one of the guys I know, who doesn’t go to our school.
In five or ten years, he’ll look like any of the young dads I see leading their toddlers out of the nursery.
But I won’t look like these pink floral-dress-wearing young wives no matter what I do, because I’m the wrong color and I have the wrong face.
I want to scream sometimes because it’s not fair.
I have to work so hard for it, and he just slides in effortlessly.
“Can you introduce me to your friend?” Reverend Billingsly says over my left shoulder, and the world rights itself.
He’s the main pastor of the church, and he just got back from a mission trip, so he hasn’t been here since Brandon started living with us.
It’s my turn to smirk. Brandon might as well be a stranger to the pastor of “his church.”
“Hi, Reverend,” I say, graciously. “This is Brandon. He’s going to be staying with us this school year.”
“Welcome, Brandon,” the pastor says. Brandon makes the right noises, but I can see the tightness around his eyes.
He’s embarrassed for some reason, and later I find out it’s because Rev.
Billingsly knew him when he was little and doesn’t remember him.
It’s a big church, so I can’t blame the pastor, but I’m reminded again that I’m the one everyone knows and loves, and Brandon is just some guy in a tie.
Later, when we’re back home, Brandon finds me when I’m cleaning the downstairs bathroom because, yes, I have chores, and sticks his head in.
I’m in the middle of wiping down the mirror, and the room reeks of vinegar.
He’s wearing shorts and a sleeveless tank top and there are smears of dirt on his legs and arms, so I figure Devin had him doing yard work.
“I need to make something clear to you,” he says, folding his arms.
“What?” I ask, sighing.
“You’re going to need to stop being a bitch to me.”
“I’m not the one being an asshole here,” I counter, shocked at his gall. “You threatened me, if I recall, over fucking hot tub time. You threatened to leave me in the courtyard last night.”
“But I didn’t, did I?” he says. “You should be thanking me.”
“How about when hell freezes over,” I suggest, rolling my eyes.
“Oh, I don’t think it will take that long,” he drawls. What is he talking about? We are not friends!
“Why are you here, Brandon?” I ask, cutting to the chase.
“I thought we could talk about what happened last night?”
“What happened?” I ask, aiming for nonchalance. “I don’t remember anything special happening last night.”
He steps closer until we’re toe to toe. I can smell him, sweat and grass.
“I could remind you,” he says, half-smiling.
“Look—“ I start to say, but suddenly he’s pinching the skin on the inside of my right biceps, squeezing it tighter and tighter. The pain is at first just annoying, but it gets worse and worse as he applies more pressure. I’m sure I should be yelling at him or slapping his hand away, but there’s something electric about the sensation, something I like.
“Stop!” I pull away, putting four or five feet between us. My breathing is a little fast, maybe because I’m angry. I want it to be anger and not something else stirring in my belly.
“I had fun last night, Deja,” he says, “and so did you. No point in lying.”
“Let’s agree to disagree.”
“I have video.”
“I was confused. High.”
“So if I touched you like that again, you wouldn’t like it?”
“I guess we’ll never know.”
“That’s not how it’s going to go,” he says, with a self-satisfied smile. “What you need to understand is that last night changed the equation for me and you. You’re mine now.”
My anger spikes at his words. “I don’t belong to anyone, Delulu.”
“Wanna bet?” He steps closer, crowding me against the pedestal sink. I feel the edge of the sink touch my back, but there’s nowhere to go except into his body. The feeling of being surrounded only makes me more irritated.
“Stop—“ I start to say, but my brain loses track of whatever I was going to say when he leans down and runs his nose along the side of my neck, almost touching. He’s close enough I catch the earthy scent of sweat and grass. It’s worse than if he’d touched me because my skin prickles with anticipation.
My breath catches and I swallow roughly, suddenly too aware of his body, too curious how the weight and warmth of it might feel against mine.
“Brandon, I need you,” Devin yells from the direction of the foyer.
“Just a sec,” he calls back. He locks eyes with me, a slight smirk telling me that he noticed my reaction.
“Tomorrow at lunch, meet me in the library.”
“I can’t do that. I eat lunch with the cheerleaders.”
“I could join you,” he suggests. That would be a disaster, me either trying to get rid of him or having to explain why he’s eating with us.
I shake my head rapidly and he knows he’s won. He saunters out the door like he has the world on a string. I want to hurl obscenities after him, but I can hear Devin talking to him. The back door opens and closes, and I don’t hear them anymore.
My hands tremble as I grip the edge of the bathroom sink.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing the fear in my own eyes.
How did things spiral so far out of control?
He wasn’t direct about it, but what he has in his possession is kryptonite.
If anyone sees that video I am toast. Everything I've worked for could come crashing down—my social status, my cheerleading, even my college prospects. He says I’m his.
What does that even mean? He said last night changed the equation, but what he really meant was that it changed the balance of power.
Whatever he wants from me—and it’s not hard to guess what it is—he now has the ability to make me give it to him.
Panic rises in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I try taking slow, deep breaths to calm myself. Think, Deja, think. There has to be a way out of this. I just need to outmaneuver him somehow.
I'll go to the library at lunch tomorrow like he wants.
I'll act like I'm too scared to resist him.
Get him to lower his guard. Then I'll snatch his phone and delete those pictures once and for all.
Or maybe I'll threaten to tell Devin about his little blackmail scheme.
Considering Brandon's already been in trouble with the law, I'm pretty sure Devin will believe me.