Chapter 23
Piper
Eighteen years old
Ow.
That’s the first thought that crosses my mind as I open one eye, then the other.
Ow. Ow, ow, ow, ow.
I can barely move. My entire body feels stiff. My bottom explodes with pain as I try to shift from one side to the other. The space between my legs is horribly sore. He wasn’t gentle. It was my first time, and he definitely wasn’t gentle.
But I didn’t want him to be.
The second thing I’m aware of, as I wince while getting into a sitting position, is that the bed is cold beside me.
He’s gone.
I don’t know why I was imagining he would stay. We have school this morning. Of course he had to get home, get dressed, get his books…
Though who am I kidding, he never actually brings his books to class. And no one dares to say a word to him about it. Everyone’s scared of him, me included.
But I also really want him in my bed.
My heart thrills as I realize I had him in bed. My childhood crush—or obsession. Crush feels like a silly little word to describe the strange, intense feeling I’ve been holding secretly in my heart since the first time I saw him in fifth grade.
I have half a mind to stay home and spend the day nursing my wounds while once more decorating my notebooks with Quill and Piper Nelson scribbles.
But I won’t, because in spite of the pain, I feel like jumping, laughing, doing gymnastics while I shout to the world that Quill Nelson is mine at last!
His hands touched every part of my skin—no, not touched, destroyed.
He knows what the inside of me feels like.
And I know how it feels to be between his two arms, held close to his chest. Maybe I’m the only one in the world who knows how that feels.
Yes, I must be, because he told me I was his first, and he wouldn’t lie to me.
Any particle of fear or pain I’ve ever felt while looking at him has melted into thin air. These past few years don’t exist at all. They can’t, because they don’t fit into my world anymore. Quill isn’t a monster, he’s mine.
I’ve gotten good at removing things from my world that make no sense. The 1960s Nancy Drew rewrites. Playback by Raymond Chandler. Passenger to Frankfurt by Agatha Christie.
Quill Nelson, being a bully.
Nothing could keep me from school today.
Nothing could keep me from seeing Quill, from feeling that magnetic pull between us again, knowing now he feels it too.
Nothing could keep me from seeing him turn once more into my protector, but not a silent one anymore.
As I take a quick shower and get dressed, grunting with pain, I picture him with his arm snaked around my waist, loudly proclaiming to the school that everyone has to treat me nicely from now on, because he’s in love with me.
Okay, he hasn’t said those words yet. But he must feel them, no? Why else would he have had sex with me?
My mind tramples down on anything that doesn’t conform fully with my new, perfect world, as there’s a knock on the door. Then Dad’s head pops in.
“Feeling better, pumpkin?”
“1000 percent,” I answer with a big smile.
He raises an eyebrow as he looks at me. “You’re really pale,” he says anxiously. “You look like you’re in a lot of pain. I phoned the boss to say I’m going to work late. I can bring you to the emergency room, or at least, get you a doctor’s appointment.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I worry, turning away from him to try, somehow, to tame my out-of-control hair, before giving up. “You know they don’t like it when you’re late.”
“Well,” he admits with a wry smile, “Bob did say not to bother coming in today if I was going to be late. But everyone’s allowed to take a day off, once in a while, and–”
“Dad, you don’t have any PTO days,” I protest. “Really, I’m feeling a lot better. I’m going to school. If you hurry, you can still make it in time.”
“Nothing could keep me from showing up for you. Screw the boss, if you need me, I’m here.”
I bite down on a whimper as I cross the room to go hug him. “I love you so much, Dad. I swear, I’m alright. In fact, I’m doing amazing. So go to work, and I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
“Love you too, pumpkin,” he says, his voice muffled as he hugs me to him.
“Fine, I’ll go. But I’m driving you to school.
I insist. And if you’re not feeling well at the end of the day, don’t try to walk home.
Call Mom. She’s still sleeping, but I’ll give her a call later to tell her you might need a ride. ”
Sighing, I follow him out. I grit my teeth as I think of Mom, sleeping while he has to go late to work so he can make sure his daughter’s okay.
What would happen if I really were sick?
Would he lose his job at Devil just so he could do his job as a parent, while Mom napped away? What the hell is wrong with her?
But I don’t say a word as I follow him to the car, because I know that criticizing Mom is the one thing that could make him lose his temper with me.
His love for her borders on the obsession.
No, it is a full-blown obsession. He loves me to death, but even that love couldn’t hope to match the devotion he has for Mom.
I’m the center of his world, but the nucleus is Mom. I’ve always come second, and I guess I always will.
Second for him, last for everyone else.
But maybe that will change. Maybe I’ll finally come first for someone now.
My heart beats faster at the thought, but then I make a face as I stare at the seat I’m supposed to sit on.
How the hell am I going to survive school today if I can’t even manage to sit in a padded car seat?
I do my best to disguise the lancinating pain that erupts as I wriggle down into the seat, trying to turn in such a way that my ass makes the least amount of contact with it as possible.
Dad notices, though. “Sure you’re okay, pumpkin?”
“Yep.” I try to keep my voice as relaxed as possible. “I actually fell on my ass yesterday as I was walking home. You know how clumsy I am.”
I let out a pained laugh, which he doesn’t return.
“Do you think that’s why you were in such pain last night? Could you have injured yourself?”
Dad is such a worrier. I roll my eyes at him, even though I’m thankful that he cares.
“I’m fine, Dad. It was my butt. It hurts, but you know, it’s cushioned. Maybe I bruised my tailbone. Not a thing to do about it, though.”
I add that last bit hastily, realizing it could explain the intense pain while also reassuring him. Sure enough, his features relax.
“If you don’t feel better soon, I’ll take you in for an X-ray. We need to make sure you didn’t break it.”
I nod in agreement, already knowing there’s no way that’s going to happen. For one, we can’t afford one. Dad’s insurance covers the bare minimum, and honestly, it should be a crime, the kind of shitty, barely existent benefits he gets from Devil.
For another thing, obviously I know exactly what’s wrong with me. Or right, rather.
I close my eyes, allowing myself to sink into the pain, and even to enjoy it, because it’s Quill’s. It’s a vivid, beautiful memory of the beautiful thing that happened last night. Of what I hope will happen every night from now on.
Though maybe not quite so painful, at least for a while, because my body definitely needs to heal.
For the first time, my heart thrills as I realize how often I’ll see him today. Because today’s Monday, and he’s in all of my Monday classes.
I used to think I had the worst luck to somehow find myself in almost all the same classes as Quill’s.
Now, though, I can’t wait. I wonder if he’ll manage to switch seats so he can sit beside me. I wonder if he’ll hold my hand. I wonder if he’ll let everyone in school know he belongs to me now, and I belong to him.
Girlfriend and boyfriend doesn’t feel strong enough to describe the ownership I feel over him right now, and the way it feels like he owns me, too.
__
I get to school just as the bell rings. Crap, I’m going to be late. Especially since my sore ass is making me walk at a snail’s pace. I yell goodbye to Dad, then hurry to my first class, not bothering to stop at my locker first. No time.
By the time I get there, the hallways are deserted. But Quill is waiting outside, and I smile brightly at him, my heart swelling as I realize he waited for me.
Then the swelling dies down just as fast when he spares me just one quick, furious glance, before disappearing into the class.
That glance is like a thunder clap. My whole body suddenly grows cold. I freeze in the hallway, trying to make sense of what’s just happened, feeling exactly like a week-old balloon that’s slowly deflating. Then, coming to my senses, I walk slowly into class too.
It’s math class, an absolute abomination of a subject taught by an abomination of a teacher. He glares at me as I walk in.
“You’re late, Piper.”
“I have a watch, thanks.”
The sarcasm is back, the angry sarcasm that’s the reason for my Pissed-off Piper nickname.
The class snickers, and I know it’s not in appreciation for my wit, but rather, in anticipation of the trouble I’ve just gotten myself into.
It would take a lot less than a sarcastic retort for me to get on Mr. Binney’s bad side, but right now I don’t care.
My body is still cold all over from the way Quill looked at me. Like he hates my guts. Like last night never happened.
Did it even happen? Was it all some fever dream?
“Detention, Piper. You’ll be reporting here after school.”
“Whatever,” I grumble, preparing to head to my seat.
But Mr. Binney doesn’t let me have the last word. The shriveled little teacher faces me with his beady eyes. “I won’t have disrespectful students in my class. You can either march right back out and go to the principal’s office, or go stand in the corner. Your choice.”