Page 3 of Seduced By My Bully

Cameron Beckett

Usually, I come into Brew for You once or twice a week for coffee, but since I heard the news that Monroe’s back in town, I’ve been coming in every day hoping to get a glimpse of her. I walk in today, hoping to see her but not expecting to. When her green eyes connect with mine, I’m pulled towards her like a magnet that finds its opposite charge. Monroe has always been my opposite. From the day I saw the cute girl carrying boxes into the house across from mine, I was hooked.

Monroe wasn’t like the girls I usually liked. On the cusp of fourteen, Monroe had big tits and curves that girls her age hadn’t gotten yet. She was thicker than them too, and damn did it look good on her. Some of the assholes I was friends with might have called her fat, but I didn’t think of her that way. Sure, she had a little extra cushion, but damn, it only made me want to get closer to her.

It was the summer before our freshman year of high school, and I’d been home with a broken leg since the end of the school year. All of my friends were out of town or doing things I couldn’t do because of my leg, so I was stuck at home, bored as hell, with only MTV and my Xbox to keep me company.

“Do you need some help?” I asked, walking over to her on my crutches.

She looked at me, and my leg with her brows pulled together. “How are you going to help?” She asked, tilting her head to the side with her hand on her hip.

“Monroe Elizabeth, where are your manners?” Her mom scolded.

Monroe. I liked it. Very different, but it matched her dark brown hair and green eyes that sparkled in the sunlight. She rolled her eyes at her mom then turned to smirk at me. “Well?” She asked.

I had been using my crutches for over six weeks, and at this point, I didn’t need to use both of them. Tossing one to the side, I held out my hand for a box and stubbornly waited for her to put one in my hand. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure I could pull it off, but I needed to make a good impression. I had faith in my skills. I’d been in sports since I was four, so carrying a box while using a crutch shouldn’t be that hard. When Monroe handed me a box I got about ten feet before losing my balance and falling. I made a good show of it, and she came running over.

“Oh shit. Are you okay?” She asked, getting down on her knees to check out my leg like she knew what she was doing.

When her concerned eyes looked up at me, I smiled. “Better now.”

She shook her head and bit back a smile. “You are ridiculous.”

“Wrong. I’m Cameron, but you can call me Cam.”

She got up and held out her hand to help me up. “I’m Monroe. You can call me Monroe.”

Her snappy personality pulled me in from the start, and I knew then, and there I needed more time with her.

We spent the rest of the summer together hanging out at each other’s houses. Sometimes we’d watch tv, while other times, Monroe would bring a book to my house and read while I played on my Xbox. Whatever we did, we always talked. We talked about anything and everything. There was never any pressure to be anything but ourselves. She knew more about me than most of my friends did.

Monroe was the new girl, and I was ditching my friends to hang out with her instead. Even when I got my cast off, I’d spend my time with her. They knew something was up, but I wasn’t ready for them to be a part of our time. I wanted Monroe all to myself. I was falling hard for her and wanted to make it official before we went back to school, and the rest of the guys saw what I did. Monroe was special, and she deserved to be treated right, not the way the rest of the guys were sure to treat her.

One night, a week before school was due to start, I showed up at her house and asked if she wanted to take a walk. She was so goddamn beautiful standing there in peach jean shorts and a white tank top, her skin golden from all the time we’d been spending outside recently. I was sweating bullets, nervous how she’d take it.

We wound up walking to the docks, where we had spent a lot of time hanging out. The sun had already gone down, and the sky was getting dark. Everything was going perfectly until I leaned in and kissed her. She kissed me back at first, but then she pushed me away when I got too eager and stuck my tongue down her throat.

“Cam.”

“It’s okay, Roe,” I said, trying to calm her down, then eagerly kissed her again. I wasn’t listening. I was thinking with my dick, and all I wanted was to kiss her sweet lips again and make her my girl.

When she pushed me back for the second time, my pride took an ugly turn. “What’s wrong with you?” I snapped.

She looked at me as if I had two heads and didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to, it was written all over her face. She was pissed and hurt, but I didn’t care. “Hello, are you mute now?”

Monroe stood up and crossed her arms stubbornly, and I stood up trying to find the words to turn this night around but couldn’t figure it out.

“I’m going home. Whatever this was,” She said, flinging her arm towards me, “was a mistake.” She said before turning around to walk back to her house.

Grabbing her shoulder, I turned her around to face me. “Don’t be a baby, Roe. It was just a kiss.” I snarled.

Monroe glared at me. “Leave me the hell alone.” She growled, walking away from me.

I was so pissed, but as mad as I was, I walked behind her keeping my distance, making sure she made it back to her house safely before I went home. I stayed up for hours, dissecting every detail of the night. I couldn’t understand why Monroe was acting like this. We had something, but she was too stubborn to admit it, and I had messed up by rushing her. I went back to see her the next day and tried to apologize, but her mom said she wasn’t feeling well. By the time school started, we never had the chance to talk.

I walked into homeroom to find my best friend Justin, talking to her and making her laugh. Those were my laughs, my smiles. As hard as I tried, she wouldn’t even look at me, and by the end of homeroom, I was done. If she was going to be like that, so was I. When we got out into the hall, Justin asked me what I thought about her and if she’d be into him. I told him I heard she was a prude, and too many people heard, even Monroe. It was a stupid thing to say, fueled by jealousy and pride. My best friend was into her, and she wouldn’t give me time to make things right with us.

The next four years spiraled out of control. I never made things right between us, and never let it go. Whenever I got the chance to pick at her, I went for it, continually taunting her. Secretly I just wanted her to talk to me like she used to before things went to shit, but she wouldn’t. I knew I was the one making things worse, but I couldn’t shut my damn mouth whenever she was around.

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