Chapter Nine
832 Words
"Fancy meeting you here, student counsellor Arielle Reese," Scott cooed, smirking.
"I have to make sure you don't skip detention.. Again." I said, giving him a blank look.
"Well.." Scott started, shrugging.
"Look, I have a really bad feeling about my parents. Just let me go. And for god's sake, go to that detention of yours."
That was the last thing I said before leaving school.
###
The house was quiet. Too quiet, actually. I ran up to Josh's room and opened his door.
He was on his bed, reading. He looked up from his book, his eyes meeting mine.
"What's up?"
"Have you seen mom and dad? They've been out for long."
"I don't know," Josh replied, putting his book down. "They weren't here from just now, so.."
"What do you think they might be doing?" I asked Josh, biting my lip.
Josh could only sigh and shook his head. "Let's just keep our fingers crossed that they will be able to.. Work it out."
I nodded, sending him a smile. We both know that's not true. They'll never be able to work it out. How long have we had false hopes that they would?
I closed his room door, and my phone does a small 'beep'.
It was a message from Scott.
'I'll be outside your house waiting for you. You can't say no because I'm already here.'
Did he skip detention again? This guy, I swear.
I grunted, making my way to the front door. Sure it is, Scott was there, with McDonald's paper bags in his hand.
"Let's go to your room," Scott said, stepping inside the house.
"You can't be here! If Josh sees you-"
"Arielle? Who's this?" Josh's voice came from behind.
The school's bad boy and your brother? Not a good combination.
"Just a friend," I replied Josh, turning to him.
"But you don't ever bring anyone here before," Josh pointed out.
"But what if I'm more than just a friend?" Scott winked.
I glared at Scott, while Josh raised an eyebrow.
Josh's phone rang. He groaned, then ran off to his room to answer.
"Gee, I thought you hated me." I remarked, rolling my eyes at him.
"Who knows? People's feelings change. I might hate you yesterday but like you the next." Scott replied.
I tilted my head, not knowing what to say.
"You know what? Let's go to my room."
###
"... And that's why her father became a stripper," Scott explained, grinning.
I laughed, shaking my head.
"I didn't know you had this much humor in you," I told him in between laughs.
"I do, do I?" Scott chuckled. "It's based on a real story, so I'm not sure if it's humor?"
I smiled, then look out of the window. My parents still aren't back yet. Where are they?
"They're still not back?" Scott asked, looking concerned.
"Yeah.. I.." I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what they are doing or where they are.
I felt something warm coming from behind. Scott's cooling breath fanned my neck, and I can hear him breathing.
His arms were wrapped perfectly around my shoulders. His smell is getting me high again. His cologne, damn.
"Feeling better?" He whispered, holding me tighter.
"Yeah." I whispered back, smiling.
He pulled away, then sat on my bed. "Come on, princess. Lighten up."
"You ever gotten a tattoo before?" Scott asked, making me raise an eyebrow.
"What? No. Why would I?"
"Do you want to?" Scott asked again, tapping his fingers.
"No, not ever. You can't corrupt me that way, Scott."
"It was worth a try."
Scott smirked, then pulled me beside him.
His dark brown eyes met mine and my god, they look so bright under the light. He has really beautiful eyes.
He brushed my hair out of my face, then smiled. He slowly leaned in, covering the space between us. He teased me a little, brushing his lips against mine over and over again. It was almost as if he was testing my boundary line.
He finally pressed his lips against mine, and for a moment my brain shut down. The pure ecstasy of our shape shifting mouthed swirled and puckered with each smack of escaping air.
He parted his lips and went on to lick my lower lip, asking for entrance. Without hesitation, I let him in. My fingers traced their way through the back of his hair while he explored my curves and thighs.
I pulled away every now and then to breathe, trying not to show how vulnerable I seem to be.
Maybe I'm done being good. Maybe it was to relieve all the stress that I'm experiencing. Maybe I made my decisions too quickly.
But whatever it is, each intake of breath was another reminder of what was happening. His cologne, the way his soft hands were running up and down my thigh, pressing my lips against his with a more urgent pace.
Maybe I should've thought twice about this.
- Writer
