Creep
1522 Words
Willow
Jack rears back at the sound of my gasp, and his eyes go wide at the sight of me while he stands there in his birthday suit.
“I–i,” I start, but I'm cut off by the sound of the locker room door opening; without thinking, he grabs my hand and hurls me into the bathroom stall with him and slams the door shut.
He's holding me against him as the water from the shower soaks me down to my shoes.
“Good game, guys.” Someone says something, and I immediately realise it's some of Jack's team, and this is the freaking changing room, not the girls' bathroom.
“If the guys find you in here, they'll think you're some creep, and you know what that means,” he grinds out above me, but I shut my eyes in embarrassment, unable to look anywhere and especially not at him when he's freaking naked.
He doesn't have to tell me; if they find me, the rest of my high school years will be a living nightmare, and I definitely do not want that.
“We will stay in here until they leave,” he says, and I nod my head quickly, too embarrassed to utter a single word.
I am so aware of his body heat pressing up against my side, and the fact that he has nothing on isn't helping matters at al.
I jump when someone hits the stall door. “Haven't you been in there for too long, Carter?” someone says, and there was a collection of sniggers from the other guys. I grip his forearm in fear that they will catch me in here with Jack.
“Are you asking to join me, Sullivan?” Jack claps back, and there is laughter, which ultimately shuts Sullivan up.
We stand under the warm spray of the shower for God knows how long until everyone leaves. That's when he shuts off the water spray, and I practically dash out of the stall. He follows me out, grabbing a towel off the bench and wrapping it around his waist while I stand there with my tiny crop top plastered against my skin and my skirt dripping water on to the floor.
“I–I didn't mean to walk in on you like that; I really thought it was the girls bathroom; I wasn't thinking.” I ramble on, crossing my arms over my chest as start to shiver from the cold air and unable to meet his gaze as my eyes stay glued to my soaked loafers.
He chuckles, ”I'm starting to think you might have a thing for me,” he mutters suggestively, and my eyes snap up to meet his, and there is that stupid smug grin that never ceases to grate on my nerves.
“What? No,” I panic, and he chuckles, shaking his head as he turns away from me.
“Relax, Blondie, I know you didn't mean to, although I'm starting to think you might just be a trouble magnet,” he smirks, pulling open his locker and grabbing some clothes before holding it out for me to take.
“Here, put these on before you catch a cold, also you can't possibly go out there looking like that,” he says, giving a once-over, and my face heats up in embarrassment.
At this point I can no longer save face in front of him because, for someone I vowed to stay away from, he has seen me in my most embarrassing moments.
“Thanks,” I sigh, taking the clothes from him and walking into a stall to change.
I walk out wearing his tracksuit, which looks more like a blanket on me, but it will have to do. He offers me a bag where I shove my wet clothes into.
“You look cute in those, blondie," he comments, and my face heats up, prompting me to look away quickly so he wouldn't see me blush at his comment.
“Thanks for your help, Jack; I have to go,” I squeak, rushing out the door without waiting for his response.
***
Why did Jack's compliment the previous day make my stomach churn in ways I cannot bring myself to fathom.
I should be devastated about Chase's public proposal to my best friend instead of me, yet here I am, giddy at the prospect of seeing him again in school under the guise of returning his tracksuit, and more so after the compromising situation we'd been in changing room.
I sigh, grabbing my bag pack and a cute gift bag before getting out of the car, I wave at Owen, my driver, who drops me off at school every day.
I walk into the school, my stomach a bundle of nerves as I clutch the gift bag containing the clothes Jack had lent me, my eyes searching the hallways for a particular head of brown hair that I would recognise anywhere.
Ava appears beside me when I reach my locker. “Hey, Willow,” she chirps beside me, literally appearing out of thin air and disrupting my thoughts.
“Hi, Ava,” I mutter a less enthusiastic response.
“I looked for you everywhere after the game, but I couldn't find you.” She frowns, and I shrug.
“Chase is so f*****g stupid for humiliating you like that in front of the whole school,” she curses, anger crossing her features, but I felt nothing.
Have I gotten over Chase so easily? After loving him for so long, it doesn't feel like any of it was real.
“I didn't think he was going to do that, Willow, I'm sorry” she sighs, and I shake my head, mustering a smile.
“I know, Ava, it's okay,” I mutter, but she doesn't seem convinced by my response as her eyes search my face. Before she sighs, her eyes flicking down to the small shopping bag I'm gripping tightly at my side.
“What have you got there?” she asks, her brows furrowing in curiosity.
“Oh, this? It's nothing,” I say, quickly entering my locker combination and shoving the bag inside before slamming it shut. There is no way in hell I'm telling her what is in the bag, because she would definitely ask too many questions, ones that I cannot answer.
She gives me a weird look but choses to let it slide as we both start walking to class together.
Just as we turn a corner, I see Jack up ahead talking to a teacher whose expression is hard, like whatever they are discussing is of utmost importance.
Contrary to that, Jack's features are relaxed, almost mirthful even, as he leans back against the wall behind him with his hands shoved into the pockets of his washed jeans, listening to whatever the teacher had to say with mild attention.
The sight of him causes an involuntary smile to tug at my lips.
“You're smiling.” Ava's voice pulls me out of my revelry, and I snap my gaze to hers, my smile turning down almost immediately.
“I–I was?” I stutter, my tone breathless as I try to hide the fact that I'd been blatantly staring at Jack.
“Yes, which brings me to the thought that you don't seem all that affected by Chase's action at the game yesterday,” she says, and I swallow thickly, knowing damn well that her speculations are correct.
“Besides, you seem unaffected, like you're no longer thinking about Chase,” she adds, furrowing her brows and chuckling, a humourless chuckle to cover up my lies.
“Oh, I just have something else on my mind,” I offer, laughing awkwardly, but her mouth is set in a thin line as she narrows her eyes at me.
“May I know what that is?” She asks with a gentle tilt of her head, and I wrack my brain for a lame-ass excuse.
“Well, Father’s getting me some of this season's dresses from Hermès,” I spit the first thought that comes to mind but immediately regret it when her eyes go wide.
“Oh my gosh, really!” she gasps, bouncing on the tips of her toes in excitement.
“Oh my God, Willow, you know how much I've been dying to wear one of Hermès dresses,” she pouts, her eyes blinking innocently at me.
“Can I have one dress, just one?” she pleads, “Please, please, please,” she keeps on repeating, and I can't help but cave in to her request. As usual, I find myself nodding with a smile, unable to refuse her.
“Of course, Ava.” I smile, and she squeals in excitement, pulling me into a quick hug.
“See you at lunch,” she says, waving frantically as she practically skips away down the hall to her class.
I sigh, pulling out my phone to text Father's secretary about ordering some Hermès dresses from the new collection.
- Writer
