Pouring Buckets

He squeezed my hips pulling me tighter against his firm body. "Why would I rape you when I can do this by invitation?"
"No... invitation..." I slurred. My words barely audible. Something about the feather trail he was leaving on the inside of my thighs was driving me crazy.
"I think you want to invite me," he said, his breath tingling my ear lobe.
I squeezed my thigh again. "I don't."
"You certainly enjoy lying," he said, cupping my breast over the towel and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Doesn't make you any good at it."
"I... I told you everything."
"And I'm supposed to believe you're a virgin?" With that his nostrils settled on the base of my shoulder blade and he took a deep breath. I felt a strange aura, something shifting inside me. As if I’ve always known him, as if I should know him. As though until that moment something had been missing.
I winced as he bit me and I swore I could feel everything he could, like I was connected to him somehow but then he stopped and grimaced, guilt washing over his eyes. He moved away from me as quickly as he'd gotten to me.
A thunderous growl filled the room. But it couldn’t have come from him because it was inhuman.
He sat at the edge of the bed and ran his hand over his face. "A virgin." He let out a slow shaky breath. "That, you certainly are. But a mate? What a surprise!"
I glared at him. What was he on about?
"You look distracted,” he stated, his forehead creasing. “Tell me... what are thinking about?”
“You’re the last guy I'd trust with my thoughts.” I scowled at him. His hands were clenched into hard fists. “I’m fine.”
"I'll drive you home." He was thoughtful for a second. "Seems Anton isn't here to take you back."
The rain was just a mist as we walked to his car outside. He shrugged out of his jacket and spread it above my head, to cover me from the rain. My breath hitched for a second.
He got the heater running the second he was in the car and then pulled my hair into a messy ponytail. Puzzled, I raised my eyebrows at him.
He ignored me.
The drive back to Jennie's house was tense and full of electric spasms. I was grateful when he stomped on the brakes outside the white house but also sad I would never see him again. It felt as though I should beg him to take me with him. I didn’t but as he left, an overwhelming sense of sadness washed over me. I couldn’t hold back the tears. I was in so much pain but I couldn’t understand why.
Jennie and Bill were gone and I was happy to have the house to myself. As usual, it was messy, I groaned and began clearing the cigarette butts and empty whiskey bottles. Jennie stayed out of my hair most of the time and Bill just used any excuse he could to either get me out of the house or get himself out of my face. It was like living with a roommate that was barely ever home, that only came back for a change of clothes. I threw down a quick plate of noodles and some water before Jennie and Bill came home. I scrambled up from the chair and lurched my way up the stairs. Before starting my homework, I took a quick hot shower to get rid of the icy cold and changed into my faded purple pajamas.
When I opened my eyes in the morning, Jennie was in my bedroom.
She extended her hand and I pointed her finger to my old blue purse by the dresser. She pulled out the stash of cash with a smile.
"He didn't give you any trouble, did he?"
I rolled my eyes. "As if you care."
"I—"
"Jennie, there's your money." My voice came out sharper than I'd intended. "Close the door behind you."
She skipped quickly to the door without another word. I made my way to the kitchen.
I slathered slabs of skillet-toasted homemade bread with jam and loaded it onto a tray with a fruit salad and two cups of tea and then walked into my mother's bedroom. Bill was still sleeping. I shook him awake, and told Jennie to eat breakfast and drink her tablets. She suffered from type two diabetes.
"You treat me like a child," she groaned, sitting up against the headboard. The navy blankets pooled to her waist.
"Sorry," I mumbled and then hesitated. I kissed her cheek and immediate understanding crossed her eyes. She knew I was apologizing for earlier.
The walk to school was frustrating, not only was I wet and cold, but thoughts of Roman Reeves refused to stay in the background.
It was hard to focus on Mrs. Scott, my IT teacher, I was very much aware of Roman's face blinding my vision every few seconds. The intense magnetic pull toward him hard to ignore. I had my book opened but my hands were balled into fists. I didn't want to do something ridiculous, like to entertain the ridiculous thought to sweep his hair away from his face.
Minutes passed and I tapped my pencil on the desk knowing the bell was about to ring. When it finally did, to my relief, I watched the kids pushing to get out at once, like a stampede, outside they lingered, waiting for friends. I waited for a moment, but I was in a hurry too, I had to get home before Bill got mad but I needed the bathroom first.
There were horny teenage werewolves in front of the door, talking in the halls. I plunged forward and my foot got wedged in front of the door jamb and I spilled into the hallway, and fell right into Edward Parker, the school football captain. He lost his balance. And I landed with a tad on top of him.
He looked at me with a hint of annoyance and then scowled. My face went red, as though this was the perfect defense mechanism.
"I...um... I'm so... sorry," I mumbled awkwardly, embarrassed, going all pink and fluttery.
He was so angry. "You will be."
I looked down at him and tried to get up, my skirt, knee-length, caught and I realized with utter horror that the end of its tails was locked inside of the classroom.