Chapter 13
Ishika
Imade it out alive. I outlived a horror movie and never again will I expose myself to such trauma again. But in hindsight, it wasn’t all that bad.
I bite my cheek to stop myself from blushing as I remember how good it felt being wrapped in Ryan’s arms.
Next to the movies is a retro arcade, we head there next. Zoe and Alice pull me away from Ryan’s hold and lead me to the gaming stations in the center. Ryan follows close by but he isn’t hovering. He’s giving me space.
With my new girlfriends, I lose myself in flashing lights and virtual adventures. This is fun. I don’t think about hand sex or Ryan’s lap for the next hour as I jump from one game to another.
“Wanna get smoothies?” Zoe asks after a while.
“Where’s Ryan?” I ask, looking around for my date. He was with us ten minutes ago.
“Oh! He’s preoccupied.” Alice plays that knowing smile, her gaze traveling the distance.
Like a fool, I follow her line of sight. A pretty blonde with dark lips and huge breasts is hugging Ryan. Her arms are on his shoulders as she climbs on her tippy-toes. Ryan bends down for her and she whispers something into his ear.
He chuckles, dimple and all. And when she whispers more sweet nothings, he listens to her attentively. Suddenly his eyes crash with mine from across the room. They shine with something sinister.
“I wouldn’t blame her. That man is fine,” Alice chirps.
Zoe hurries to my side. “Oh that’s Jill. Ryan isn’t interested in her like that. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“He looks very interested to me,” I say.
“I wouldn’t be jealous. That’s just harmless flirting,” Alice adds.
I am not jealous. I am seething with fury.
Marching to the cafe area, I order my smoothie. My anger simmers and condenses as I wait for my order to arrive.
A blond guy comes up to me. “Can I buy this beautiful girl a drink?” he asks, taking a step too close.
The guy is good-looking no doubt, but he does nothing for me. However, I could also do with some harmless flirting and feeling important.
I giggle a little louder than necessary. My fingers play with my hair and I bat my eyelids at the blond.
“I already paid. But you can buy me the next one.”
“For a girl like you, I’m willing to buy the entire shop.” He gives me his dazzling smile. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”
Before I can reply, a bulky arm drapes around my waist and hauls me until my back meets a solid chest.
His touch burns my skin. His name escapes my lips, “Ryan.”
Ryan is angry and I am the one smirking now.
He is not too happy when the tables are turned. He grunts at the other man.
“Hey, man, I didn’t know she was with you,” the blond guy says.
Ryan growls.
Such a caveman. All he does is grunt and growl. He hasn’t said a word, but I guess it’s enough for the other guy to back away from me.
I turn my body in his arms to face him.
With his nostrils flaring, he narrows his menacing eyes on me. I roll my eyes in response, playing this cool girl persona while inside me there is a raging volcano about to explode.
I am tired of these silly games and this tug-of-war between us. I’m sick of him giving me mixed signals.
“What is your problem?” I hiss, frowning at him.
He scowls at me, the tic of muscle on his jaw is unmissable. His fingers dig into my waist where he has me trapped.
“I know you’re used to chicks that dig this hot-blooded, angry brooding man personality. I’m not one of them.” I glance back at the blonde girl from before, who is still staring at Ryan.
“Jill Andserson, that’s her name and she does like a hot-blooded man. At least she isn’t ashamed of who she wants,” he says, lowering his face to mine. “Of course, blithering twits with big mansions are more your type.”
Did he sleep with Jill? Are they like fuck buddies?
I pull out of his arms and step back.
It hits me then what this is. This frustration, this jealousy, this restlessness. This ridiculous pathetic want to be with him. This secret desire to become the center of his universe. The truth stares me in the face, demanding my acceptance.
I am falling for Ryan Harper.
There is a good chance that I am falling alone.
I am afraid he has the power to destroy my heart ruthlessly, savagely, without any remorse.
Why? Why did it have to be him?
Maybe I can backtrack. Maybe I can unfall. Maybe if I don’t feel…
I flee out of the building, away from him. Far away from his friends.
The streets are bustling with people. This is the more popular part of town. It’s almost nine in the evening but no one seems to be in a rush to head home. I take in big gulps of air to push down the tight feeling in my chest.
I am about to turn onto a sidewalk when a Harley closes in on me. A loud horn blows by my side but I keep walking faster refusing to look at the Harley and its owner.
He should get the message, I want to be alone.
Get lost, Harper.
Go back to your sweet Jill and her bullshit sweet nothings.
He honks again. Loud and long. I don’t turn to look. Chin up, my legs pick up speed.
The pain in the ass that he is, he begins to honk continuously in loud, jarring, blaring discordant sounds. It’s nonstop, honk-honk-honk. His bike is wailing like when a petulant child throws a tantrum for attention, making people turn and stare at us. Causing such a scene.
A girl walking on the sidewalk and a biker trotting along, while balancing his motorcycle and honking on. I know how ridiculous this looks. But let’s see how long he can keep this up because I got all night, buddy.
The trotting and the honking go on for a while and I ignore him tactfully, but then he inches closer and grabs my wrist. Then he yanks me to him while still balancing his bike with his legs. As I stumble on the sidewalk, he catches me. His forearm stops me from falling on my face.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly. He isn’t wearing his helmet.
I am not okay. I am mad, sad, and confused.
He gets the helmet over my head, latching the buckles. Tugging on my arm, he jerks his face to the seat, beckoning me to climb on.
I do as he wants. Because it’s easier to let him win than to let him see my turmoil. I can’t let him see what he does to me.
I stew and simmer as he drives me home. The twenty-minute drive doesn’t calm my nerves. As soon as he parks in my driveway, I climb off the bike in a hurry, placing the helmet on the vacant seat, and head toward my door.
His footsteps fall next to mine.
I am about to insert the key. “Are you angry?”
I don’t reply.
“Is it because I was talking to Jill?” Ryan asks.
I hate that it’s that obvious.
I turn on my heels to face him. “Dude, I really don’t fucking care.”
“The fact that you are still mad says you care enough.”
“Do you have a screw loose somewhere? I said I’m not mad.”
“I didn’t sleep with Jill,” he says, staring into my eyes.
I am aware that the right response would be to scoff at his heartfelt confessions.
Believe me, I am trying. I want to show him how nonchalant I am. I want to remain calm yet convey the words that scream—Fuck. You. Ryan Harper—without me actually having to say any of it.
But my messed-up emotions betray my words, they fight and choke amongst each other and when I open my mouth to be vicious, I can’t find my voice.
The light on my porch is dim. My chin trembles and I lower my lashes. This way he can’t see my unshed tears. Wordlessly I turn to lean on the wooden door then insert the key into the lock. His chest pushes against my back, his arms cage me between him and the door.
His lips graze over the shell of my ear, breathing heavily and gritting out, “Now you know what it feels like. Every fucking time he touches you and I have to watch. You want me, don’t you?
You want me to fuck you, to show you a good time.
You want to ride my cock in secret and tell no one.
You’ll come hard all over my cock, bending and collapsing, screaming my name.
But after, you’ll go back home to him. You’ll let me touch you, you’ll whimper and beg on my bed, but I’m not allowed anything more.
Because you love him. There’s a name for a girl like you.
A bratty girl with her tight pussy, who spreads her legs for a man like me.
Wanna know what they call a girl like you, Ishika? ”
A painful cry breaks out of my lips, I shove my palms on his chest with all my strength. He falters back a step, his eyes dark, his face hard. I move forward and slap him hard across his face.
Tears sting my eyes.
“Get the fuck off my property,” I say, my own voice unrecognizable.
Getting inside, I bang the door in his face. I lock the door tight and head upstairs to my room, free-falling on the bed. When the tears spill, I don’t stop them this time.
I fall asleep crying and when I wake up again, it’s because of the sounds of thunder and rain coming from outside. I left the window open and the rain is getting in. The winds are strong and they make the curtains flap.
After the initial struggle, I finally manage to close the windows. But now my clothes are drenched. Suddenly the house feels eerily quiet. I didn’t switch on any lights after I came home.
I hear the sound of a drip coming from my bathroom.
A shadow of something deformed bangs on the windows as thunder crackles close by.
A moment later it’s pitch black and suffocating.
The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stands, sweat breaks out on my skin.
Fear slithers and swiftly engulfs my whole body.
I am trembling from head to toe, I can’t forget the movie.
The movie replays scene by scene in my mind. Images that I saw on screen at the theater and the ones I didn’t see, but imagined, flood my consciousness.
Is someone in my bathroom? That drip of water is getting louder by the second.
Shit!
The door to my closet is slightly ajar, what if someone is hiding in there. I freeze and wait for a shadow to jump out of nowhere or something white to show up in my peripheral vision. My mind is playing tricks on me. What if the girl from the movie decides to invite herself into my home.
Suddenly, there is a sound of wood creaking close by, like someone is walking on the hardwood floors downstairs. That someone is now climbing the stairs that lead to my bedroom.
Oh God! What if it’s a chain saw murderer?
Beads of sweat form on my forehead as panic grips my chest. I run to switch on the lights. My frantic fingers flip on multiple switches on the board all at once but luck is not on my side. The light goes on, but then it flickers a few blinks and everything goes black.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
I stand frozen in my pitch-dark room with the sound of water dripping coming from the bathroom. My heart pounding and my fingers shaking, nausea fills my throat.
This is probably what dying of horror feels like.
Then my phone starts ringing.