"So that's a yes, huh?"
He looked at me like I was some two cent nudie mag he was gonna slip under his jacket... not that I was as worthless as a nudie mag but, well, hell. Maybe I kind of was. I might have been nodding, but I couldn't really tell what my head was doing. All I could see were those cold, hard eyes. His unearthly blonde hair. His grabby hands.
My mouth certainly wasn't working, that was for damn sure, but I must have done something that said yes, cause he let out a "ha!" and the next thing I knew he was flipping off the light switch and slamming shut the door of that small dingy room.
It didn't take him two seconds to close the distance between us. And when he did, his hands didn't seem to know where to go first. My breasts, my lips, my neck. Then he crawled on top of me and that's when I learned just how much a boy weighs.
He pulled expectantly at my lips with his teeth, his left hand tugging hard at the collar of his shirt. I thought he might just break the buttons, the rate he was going, but I wasn't about to play mom. Let him break his shirt. This was... well, this was something else. Nobody had ever payed me this kind of attention before. Nobody had ever looked at me with eyes like that, oh and nobody, nobody had ever made my skin crawl as deliciously as Dallas Winston was right that second.
But all that aside, truth be told I was a fish out of water and I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to be doing. I put my hands to work on the buttons of my blouse, cause it was either that or let them stay flopped like pathetic rags at my side. He grinned when he saw my fidgeting, and I had to stop. I might've been a newbie, but I sure didn't want to give in that easily, come to think of it, maybe running upstairs with him wasn't the best idea I'd ever had.
Oh, I hadn't been thinking straight when I got into this mess, that much was clear. Two quick beers and a shot of something that burned, two hours tripping around the place, flashing smiles at anyone willing to look my way twice.
But of all the dumb ideas I'd had, letting the cold hand of Dallas Winston wrap around my waist must've been just about the dumbest thing. It was right up there with that one time I'd tried to fib my way home at the school nurse by smearing ketchup on my shirt and calling it blood. Said I'd gotten into it with some blonde chick over a boy, cause we all know how tough I am. Who was I kidding? Being on the heavier side of curvy with a long face and frizzy hair, there was no way I was attracting guys, much less ones worth fighting over.
Nurse Cole straight up laughed in my face and politely informed me that I was full of shit. I tried to backtrack and claim a bloody nose, but she wouldn't have that either. At least she had the decency to acknowledge my idiocy and direct me back to class, ruined shirt and all. She even sent a phone call to my mother, probably checking to see why her kid was such a lunatic... somehow I didn't see Dallas Winston sending me home or having anything to do with my mother, not now not ever. Oh I was in for it, all right.
He shook his head at me, a kind of an impatient smirk starting to form. I could see the patch of lipstick smeared just to the left side of his lower lip... it was mine, of course. I'd never say it to him, but that color sure looked good... then, most things looked good on him.
"We gonna do this or not, kid?" Did he ever know how to snap a girl out of a makeup trance.
"Uh, yeah... Ok." I started in on my buttons again, but my hands had taken to shaking something awful and he just rolled his eyes at me. He gripped the fabric and next thing I knew there was a pop and the buttons went flying.
"Yep. That's better." My jaw fell open, and for a few moments I couldn't do much more than lie there gaping at him. He sat back a moment to look at my body and I hated what he saw.
He was taking in my faded old bra, the straps of which were too stretched to give any support. His eyes lingered at the consequential spillage of breast that wouldn't fit nicely in the cups, then moved to the extra roll of paper white skin that sat where other girls had abs... it occurred to me that I should cover myself, and I tried. With my hands crossed awkwardly in front of my pudge, his smirk grew and then there he was, running a hand threw that god-awful platinum hair and laughing at me. Lordy, my cheeks could burn.
"Hey-" I started to protest, but I was interrupted by a sudden rhythmic banging through the wall behind my head. It took me a moment to recognize the sound of bed post hitting wall, and when it was joined by the squeaking of mattress springs and a sudden barrage of moaning I found myself biting my lip like an idiot. I mean, I was eighteen years old, about to be a genuine high school graduate... I may have been a virgin but I had sense enough to know what was happening in the next room over. I wanted to laugh and cry and scream at the same time. Dear lord, I wished I could stop thinking... what a stupid, stupid girl I was.
He eyed me warily. I guess he had caught on that I was an emotional stone's throw away from crying all over him.
"Well," he grimaced, "that's Buck's for ya..." He pushed himself up off the bed and moved to squat in front of the half bureau against the far wall. I took the chance to pull myself up till I was sitting, and while his back was turned I tried hastily to pull the ruined sides of my blouse back together, hugging a concealing arm across my stomach. I wasn't sure what to do with my other one... I settled on tucking it behind my head, hoping I was affecting some sort of an air of confidence. Thinking back, I must have looked more awkward than a moose on a pogo stick. Oh yeah. I was a mess.
He was rummaging around in the bottom drawer of the bureau, and I craned my neck to see what he was getting.
"Here," he said, finally turning around and handing me what turned out to be a dirty shot glass. He picked his coat off the ground and pulled a flask out from an inner pocket. Before I had a chance to do so much as a spit and rub clean job on the glass, he was holding it steady in my hand while he poured some dark and pungent alcohol to the brim. "You need to relax, kid..." he muttered as he poured. "You're wound so tight you're freakin' me out."
I brought the glass to my nose and sniffed. "What is it?" I asked, not really in the habit of taking mysterious shots from strangers. I recoiled at the smell. Whatever it was, it was mighty strong. He cocked an eyebrow at me, his frustration evident.
"Does it really matter? Just drink it already."
I wanted to say something back, I wanted to protest, to tell him I wouldn't touch it till he told me what hellish liquid he kept in that flask. But that wasn't what tonight was about. There I was, locked in a room with a boy, and for the first time in my miserable life I had a chance to do what other girls did. Hell, it was the whole reason I'd gone to Buck's in the first place. I was sick and tired of being that unattractive inexperienced schoolgirl. I was graduating in two days and if I didn't break loose now, when would I? It was a moment of choice more clear than drunkenly following Dallas up those rickety stairs to that room... I could have left right then and there, but I didn't want to. Something told me that if I didn't bite the bullet and do this now, there was no way I was ever gonna find myself in such a perfectly laid out situation again.
So I took the shot. Pulling my hand from behind my head and leaning forward, I let my stomach rolls fall forward and as I sputtered as whatever that drink was burned my throat. I gestured to the flask he was holding. "Gimme another."
He may have been surprised, but the couple in the next room took that moment to up the ante and whatever embarrassing remark he might have shot at me was lost in the recognition that he was, indeed, going to get lucky that night. Another smirk wound its way across his lips.
He grabbed the shot glass and poured another. Then he took a swig from the flask and shoved the shot back in my hands. "Sure thing, babydoll. Whatever you say."