Yours Ch. 03

They started heading over to the table, and I tried to distance myself.

"Actually, I...I'm going up to the library again today." I said, trying to keep the nerves out of my voice.

All three stopped and looked at me oddly.

"You have a tray." said Lissie.

I looked down to find I had indeed grabbed a tray and paid for the food without really paying attention. I hadn't been thinking, but of course I couldn't leave now. I tried to make another excuse, while Lissie rolled her eyes and walked to the table with Becky, but Rose didn't give me a chance.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, peering into my eyes.

"Uh...nothing, I...I just..." I stuttered.

"Come on." she said. "Come sit with us."

There was a heaviness to her words. This wasn't just me sitting somewhere else, to her. This would be me making an excuse to reject her, and her friends. She was putting way too much importance on the whole thing, but I could tell that's what she was thinking.

I looked at the table nervously, and saw Jessica there, watching me. What the hell was I doing? I'd spent years of my life living in fear of Jessica, and that had brought me nothing but loneliness and anger. I'd finally gotten free of that life...was I really just going to let some arrogant dickhead put me back there?

I glanced behind me and didn't see Mike anywhere.

I took a deep breath, and walked over to the table.

Screw Mike. Screw what he wanted me to do. I could sit where I wanted.

That being said, I barely ate and didn't pay attention at all to the conversation going on around me. I kept my head down, still praying Mike didn't see me. What the hell was wrong with me? I kept glancing at the clock at the end of the room, trying to will the hands to move faster.

A few minutes before the bell went, I felt an almost psychic twinge of fear. I looked up and saw Mike glaring at me from across the room, a snarl of rage frozen on his face. My stomach twisted and I almost threw up my food. I kept staring at him until I realised Rose was trying to get my attention.

"Uh, what?" I asked.

"I said, you should come to Josh's with us tonight. Meet all the guys, have a drink, it'll be fun." she said.

Oh right, Josh's occasional Thursday get-togethers. His mom was apparently often out of the house on Thursday nights, for whatever reason, and so Josh invited a small, consistent group of seniors from a few schools in the area to hang out and drink. I'd never met the guy, but it seemed like half of the group's stories and in-jokes had originated at one of his parties.

I glanced around. Everyone was looking at me, waiting for an answer. Lissie didn't seem to care much, nor did Becky, but Derek seemed pretty hopeful. Glancing at Jessica was a mistake.

She had such an incredibly open look of such desperate hope on her face that it took my breath away. For a few seconds, she looked like the only thing she had ever wanted in the world was for me to go to this party. Then she looked away, blushing, as she had every other time I'd met her eye in public these past few weeks.

I sighed. It was her being so open with her emotions that had gotten me into this mess. I mean, maybe.

I could feel Mike's eyes on me from across the room even now. I didn't know what I was going to do.

"Sorry, I gotta go." I said quickly, standing up.

I jammed my hands into my pockets and walked quickly to the other end of the cafeteria, hoping against hope that Mike wouldn't follow me. I was just blindly fleeing with no plan or purpose. I made it out of the building and sped up, hoping to reach the library before he caught up.

Suddenly I felt a heavy clap on my shoulder.

"Come on." growled Mike, dragging me to the side.

He walked me back around behind the cafeteria. What could I do? He was obviously faster than me. I couldn't out run him, God know's I couldn't fight him off. I just let myself be led, feeling like a lamb heading towards the slaughter.

In a less poetic sense, it felt exactly like heading into an exam that you knew you hadn't done enough studying for. The exact same sinking feeling in the pit of the stomach.

We reached the spot, and he slammed me against the wall.

"What did I say, bitch?" he snarled, pressing his meaty hand into my chest.

"Why does it matter?" I blurted out, my voice high and whiny.

"What?" he said, anger darkening his expression further.

"She dumped you, right?" I said, thinking quickly, "What does it matter if I sit with her? I'm not even sitting with her, I'm sitting with my sister!"

I struggled against him, trying to escape his grip. He pushed back hard, pinning me to the wall. Then he slapped me across the cheek.

The sudden explosion of stinging pain shocked me into silence. Suddenly the fear and apprehension I'd been feeling exploded and multiplied. This guy could seriously hurt me.

"Listen, faggot, I don't care if the only reason you're at that table is because you want to suck Frank Dorian's cock. You stay the fuck away from Jessica, you got it?" he growled.

I still hadn't recovered from the slap, and I felt tears brimming up in my eyes. I briefly thought that I hadn't known Frank's last name until just now.

Mike leaned in close, hissing in my ear;

"Don't go near her again."

He walked away, leaving me alone. I pushed my back against the wall and slid to the ground. I felt weirdly numb, and I barely registered the sound of the lunch bell coming from the window high above me.

I slowly picked myself up and walked to class, only remembering at the last second where I'd left my books, and having to double back to get them.

The rest of the day passed in kind of a weird shock. I felt mostly numb except for the fear. Why did he scare me so much? He was just a guy. Just some asshole. Yet the feeling of him holding me against that wall, of being utterly helpless...it made me sick to my stomach.

I didn't know what I was going to do. How could I be with Jessica when I was so afraid of what might happen with Mike?

==

That evening, a few hours after dinner, I was in bed listening to music and trying to ignore my problems, just like always.

I jumped when my door opened and Jessica peeked her head around it. It had been a while since I'd seen her in the house on a Thursday. I took my headphones off.

"Uh, hi. Rose wanted me to ask if you're coming tonight." she said.

She seemed unsure of how to act in my room, knowing we couldn't be our usual selves with Rose just downstairs.

"Uh..." I said. I didn't know what she meant.

"Josh's party? Rose wants you to come, and she asked me to ask you..." she nervously brushed her hair behind her ear, "I guess she really wants me and you to be friends. I have to tell you how fun it's all going to be..." she trailed off, laughing lightly.

She was so nervous around me. She looked at me with such adoration in her eyes, such vibrant hope. But I couldn't do with any distractions.

"No." I choked out. "No, I'm not going."

She looked at me for a second before walking to my bed and sitting down.

"It really will be fun. It's...I mean, it's kind of low-key, you know? Just sitting around, listening to music, getting a little tipsy on some cheap beer...it's a good night." she said, leaning closer to me.

"No thanks. Not my thing." I said.

She put her hand on my shoulder and wrapped her other around my arm.

"Come on..." she said coaxingly, "It'll be great, I promise."

From nowhere, rage built up inside me and exploded to the surface. How dare she disobey me? How dare she even touch me without my permission?

I pulled roughly away from her, getting off the bed.

"Get the fuck off me, slut." I growled, "Don't fucking cling to me, you're always so clingy."

The words had no real meaning behind them, to me. I just wanted to hurt her.

"I...I'm sorry, Sir." she said quietly, standing with me.

But her voice had a certain tone to it that I recognised. She'd slipped into submissive mode, and it was obvious I'd excited her a little bit.

"That turned you on, didn't it? God, Jessica, aren't you embarrassed to act like this? Doesn't it humiliate you to talk like that?" I said, my voice dripping with acid.

Her eyes widened in shock. She struggled to answer, pulling back from me slightly.

"It's pathetic, Jessica." I said, staring into her eyes.

She acted like I'd slapped her for a second, then anger suddenly flared across her expression, that familiar look that I used to fear so much.

"You think I don't know that?" she asked, "You think I don't look at myself and just...Of course it's pathetic...it's disgusting, the way I act around you..."

She hesitated for a second, and her expression softened. She looked down, unsure of herself.

"But...but it's Ok, right? Because...because it's what I want..." she stepped closer to me, "Because I'm a...I'm your...slut, and...I love you."

My anger ignited again, spewing out of me.

"You love this!" I shouted, roughly grabbing my crotch, "You love my cock. You're a slut that just loves to be fucked, and you don't give a shit about me!"

"That's not true!" she said, "I love you, I do...You own me and I love you."

She lurched forward to grab me, but I slapped her hand away. She stopped, and there was a second of heated silence.

"Get the fuck out, Jessica." I ordered roughly.

She stared at me, tears brimming in her eyes. I kept her gaze and I could feel my own rage pouring out of me in waves. She faltered, and quickly left, slamming the door behind her.

I felt my breath and pulse quicken, and another wave of hot molten rage and frustration burned up inside me. I grunted and growled at nothing, slamming my fists down on my desk over and over. It hurt, but I didn't care.

I knew why I'd lashed out at her. It wasn't Jessica I was angry at.

Mike.

The name echoed in my head and his stupid, smug face flashed in my memory. Except it wasn't fear I felt this time, it was just more rage.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his strength, and his size, and his domineering will.

I was going to deal with him tomorrow. Friday. Then I'd force Jessica down that night and make her scream with pleasure and pain in a way he never could.

I slowly settled my nerves, and tried to think of a solution.

==

Unfortunately, the next day came and I still didn't have one. I'd thought about it all night, but there was nothing I could think of. It went without saying that no teachers would be involved, and although I guessed Frank could probably take him in a fight, I wasn't about to drag some people I barely knew into saving my ass for me.

I'd settle this myself.

I was still mulling the problem over when I walked into Math the next afternoon, the period before lunch. I thought that I had one last class to think this through when I looked up and saw Mike sitting in his usual seat staring out the window. Of course, he was in my Math class.

I sat down in the opposite corner and felt adrenaline suddenly pump into my veins. I gritted my teeth as my anger flared up again. Just thinking about him pissed me off.

Whatever I was going to do, I was going to do it now.

I turned to look at him. Ms Kallis was rambling on about something in her timid little voice, and he wasn't even paying attention. But then, neither was I.

I wanted him to look at me. I was going to confront him today. Right now. I was done with feeling like a scared little boy.

As I glared at the back of his head, he suddenly turned and caught my eye. He looked puzzled for a second, probably taken aback my angry expression. I quickly raised my middle finger to him and held it there, watching as the fury and surprise lit up his face. He looked like he wanted to beat my ass in the middle of the classroom.

Well, why wait?

I made a jerking motion with my head towards the door. I was calling him out.

"Ms Kallis?" I said, raising my hand.

She looked up at me, surprised at the interruption.

"Uh...yes?"

"I need to go to the bathroom." I said standing up, not waiting for an answer.

She nodded meekly as I walked towards her, and left through the door on her right. I dug my hands into my pockets and hurried along the corridor to the male bathroom. I walked in to the small room, only containing a few urinals and one stall, as well as two sinks. I walked to the centre of the room, in front of the sinks with my back to the cubical wall, and turned to face the door.

I could see myself in the mirrors over the sinks. I didn't look ready for this. I looked afraid. And my eyes widened further in terror as I heard heavy footsteps approach the door.

Suddenly it burst open, and the huge bulk of Mike stormed in.

"You!" he growled, and lunged forward.

He punched me squarely in the chest, hard. I felt the breath being pushed out of me, and a deep pain shocked my body. I stumbled backwards and slammed against the cubical.

"What the fuck, faggot!? You wanna go?" he exclaimed angrily.

I regained my footing, and stared into his eyes.

"Fuck you." I said, my voice sounding surprisingly steady.

He bellowed with rage and lashed out again, delivering a crashing blow to the ribs on my right, and another to my still painful chest. I didn't try to dodge, or defend myself in any way. I couldn't. He was too big, too fast. He'd probably beaten up a hundred guys like me for fun, and I'd never even thrown a punch. So I took the hits, and was once again thrown back against the cubical, crashing hard against it and causing it to shake and clatter. Before I could get my footing, he threw another punch out that smashed into my mouth.

The pain was intense and it shook me to my bones, but I gritted my teeth. I wasn't going to let myself be beaten by this. I wasn't going to be controlled and dominated by some needle dicked asshole.

I told myself that he was nothing as I took another shaky step towards him, righting myself.

"What have you got to say for yourself now, bitch?" he asked smugly.

I took a deep breath, which was incredibly difficult.

"Fuck. You." I panted.

Once again, an animalistic rage exploded across his features. It was almost comical, in a way. His handsome face suddenly shifting to an almost cartoonishly exaggerated look of pure anger. I barely saw his fist as it flew towards my face. Intense pain exploded against my mouth again and I reeled backwards, barely reaching the wall before losing my footing and falling to the ground. I slid down part of the way down before landing heavily on my ass.

My vision was blurred for a few seconds, and I took another deep breath as it cleared.

Was that it?

I suddenly, and unexpectedly let out a little laugh. Just a tiny little chuckle in the back of my throat. I was facing what I'd been afraid of, and it was just this. Just pain. The sick sense of dread that had been boiling up inside me was gone. This is what I was afraid of?

I suddenly laughed again, a few sharp barks.

A wave of euphoria suddenly washed over me.

Mike was so...stupid. He was like a toddler throwing a tantrum, throwing out his tiny fists because he was angry at the big wide world. It was his only power, I realised. He had nothing else. He could hurt, and that was it. His entire basis of control over me was something that could be easily mimicked by a 10 year old girl with a heavy enough blunt object.

It was just pain.

This is all he could do to me? This is all he was? This was nothing. I'd probably inflicted ten times this amount of pain on Jessica, and she was in fucking love with me. And he wanted to chase me away with just this?

The thought was so ridiculous that I laughed again, and then kept on laughing. I struggled to my feet, unable to stop the increasing spasms of laughter from racking my body. It was so loud, and it seemed to echo off the clean, white walls. It became almost hysterical as I finally stood, and I had to hold myself against the cubical wall to stop from falling again.

There are times in life when you just laugh, without really knowing why. For whatever reason, something will just seem unbelievably hilarious to you, so hilarious that your laughter is frantic, almost painful. The kind of laughter that makes you honestly fear for your life for a second, just because of how hard is to draw a full breath.

That was the kind of laughter I was shaking with then, desperately clinging to that cubical wall, staring at what seemed to be the most stupidly weak and hilariously impotent thing I'd ever seen. He just glared back, uncomprehending. It was like something inside me had been knocked loose. There wasn't a trace of fear left in me. Not for this moron. Not for all the pain he could inflict.

I looked away, and finally started to get my breath back, a few giggles and moans still rising up as I swallowed and tried to get myself under control. My whole torso hurt, and there were honest to God tears in my eyes.

I looked up at him. A few more giggles escaped as I watched him. He was so confused, so utterly perplexed by my reaction. He'd probably beaten a few guys to tears in his time, but never because they were laughing so hard at him.

"Oh Mike..." I gasped, still fighting the laughter, "Fuck you."

Anger jumped across his features again, the same look, so stupid and predictable, so ridiculously obvious. I laughed again, trying so hard not to be swept away by it, and he hesitated.

"What are you gonna do, tough guy?" I asked, giggling.

My lip hurt when I talked, but I ignored it.

"You gonna punch me again?" I said, mockingly, "You gonna knock a few teeth out this time?"

He didn't say anything, but the look of utter confusion spread over his dumb features, and I smiled so widely that my lips were hurting. I glanced in the mirror and realised that, no, my lip was sore because it was bleeding.

My bottom lip had a thin trail of blood running from it. I slowly licked it up, and was reminded of my first time with Jessica.

Our first kiss had tasted like blood.

I laughed at the memory. I'd made Jessica cry that day, and now I owned her. This asshole could do nothing to me.

"Fuck you, Mike." I said, staring into his eyes.

He looked panicked, and pulled his fist back to punch me again. I didn't flinch. I wanted him to do it. I honestly thought it would be funny for him to hit me again, to lash out like a little baby. This was probably the first time in his life that punching wasn't going to fix the problem.

"You really think you can take me?" said Mike, nervousness tainting his otherwise strong voice.

I chuckled again. Was fighting literally all he thought about?

"Oh no, Mike. I couldn't possibly take you." I caught his eye again, and he took another step backwards, "You're so big and so strong. You could do anything you wanted to me."

I took a step towards him and raised my chin, leaving it open for an attack.

"So go for it." I said.

I was resigned to the pain. He could hit me and hit me all we wanted, but I wouldn't bow to him.

But he didn't move a muscle. He finally dropped his raised arm.

"Oh?" I said, my smile widening, "Not going for the face? What's next, then? You gonna break my arms next? Hm? Fuck it, why not just go for the legs too?"

I took a step towards him, and he took a step back. He was afraid of me. I could see it in his face, in his eyes. Suddenly it wasn't so funny any more.

Now I was angry.

"And what if crippling me doesn't work?" I asked. My voice sounded strangely deep, and seemed to suddenly echo in the small room in a way it hadn't just a second ago.

"What if you break every bone in my body and the first words formed by my shattered jaw are; 'Fuck. You. Mike.'" I said, taking another step towards him.

He backed up and hit the wall. I could see everything running through his idiot little brain. Violence wasn't going to solve this problem, and he had nothing else to work with. He could literally destroy me with his fists, but all it took was something unexpected to scare him into inaction. If I didn't fear his punches, then what power did he have?