Stalker - Clarissa Wild Page 0,48
raises his eyebrows as he points at the piercing in his lip. “Oh, you mean this?”
“Yeah, and whatever else you’re doing to yourself. I don’t understand why. Is it some sort of cry for attention?”
He chuckles. “Now you’re really starting to push my buttons. Be careful there, Princess.”
“Princess?” I wince. “Seriously?”
He leans forward. “Yeah, because you’re acting like a stuck-up princess. I just call it like it is.”
I shake my head. “I can’t believe this.”
“What? That I’m not like you? That I care less about studying and more about my friends? That I don’t try to make anyone but myself happy?”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
He places his hand on the locker in a way that overwhelms me a little, making me want to shrink in his presence. “Oh, really? Then what are you doing? Because it sure seems like you’re trying to mold me into someone you can be friends with.”
“I’m not trying to mold you—”
He grabs my arm and pins me to the locker. “Listen, Princess. I’m not a toy you can play with.”
“You’re not—”
“Shh.” He places his finger on my lips. “Stop trying to convince me to be like you. It won’t work. I’ll never be like that. You can forget about it. And if that’s what it takes to be your friend, then I can’t be your friend.”
I frown, my lips parting. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “What? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Tears well up in my eye, but I blink them away. “I can’t believe you’re saying this.”
He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Look at me.” He lifts his shirt and shows me the tattoo on his chest. It’s some sort of bird with a skull in the middle. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up just looking at it. Why is he doing this? And more importantly, how? It’s illegal at our age, so some questionable joint must’ve done it. I shouldn’t care, but I do. I care a lot.
“Does this look like something you want to see?”
“I don’t mind …” I shrug. “I just think you’re focusing on the wrong things.”
“I’m focusing on what I want.” He leans in, placing his other hand above my head and trapping me. “Maybe you should do the same once in a while. It’s much healthier.”
“Are you suggesting that I’m not doing what’s healthy for me? Because those piercings are obviously proof of your knowledge,” I sneer.
“Hmm …” He smiles, and his tongue dips out to lick his piercing, which causes goosebumps to appear all over my body. I’m transfixed by the way he tugs on it, and it makes me want to touch it. Goddammit.
“You know what I think? I think you’re just jealous,” he muses.
“Jealous?” I say, shocked. “Of what?”
“Of the fact that I can do whatever the hell I please, and you’re stuck doing what Mommy and Daddy demand.”
That’s it. He’s gone and done it now. Rage is filling up my veins, and before I know it, my fist is right up in his face, making contact.
For a moment, all the people in the hallway stop in their tracks, and I have a feeling they’re all looking at us. Nobody flinches, not even Miles himself. As I take my fist off him, I turn around and run into the nearest bathroom.
Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god. I can’t believe I just did that.
I stare into the mirror, wondering what in the hell is wrong with me. Why in the hell did I do that? Why do I let him piss me off so much?
I turn on the faucet and splash some of the water on my face before wiping it off with a clean towel.
Someone knocks on the door, and I look up and wait. My heart is pounding when I hear his voice.
“Vanessa … please come out.”
I don’t know what to say because nothing is an excuse for what I did. And yet, I’m too terrified to go out there because I fear he’ll hit me back.
I don’t know why I’d think that, but somehow, I do. Maybe it’s because of that redheaded kid he beat up, the one trying to bully us. Something about Miles makes me cower, and that’s not me at all. I always feel on top of my game, except when I look at him. When I do, all I see is hurt, fear, anxiety, and above all, anger. It’s like he could lash out at any time.