Page 92 of Swallow Your Sorries

Ms Trix shakes her head. “Isawsomeone. A human shape just lingering. It was massive.”

Oh.

“Broad shoulders. Tall.”

I’m only one hundred and sixty-seven centimetres.

“Definitely a husky man. A strapping man. And it wasn’t the first time. But don’t you get scared, Eloisa. This sort of thing isn’t something a girl like you has to worry about in her lifetime.”

I have a level four crazy on the other side of campus in the boys’ dorms as we speak!

“You may be surprised to learn this, but I’m somewhat of a sleuth.”

I stare at her blankly.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this. No need to alarm the other girls.”

For everyone’s sake, I hope she isn’t going to get to the bottom of anything besides another bottle of cooking sherry.

“Then why are you confiding in me?” I can’t help but ask. “Because now I’m alarmed.”

I’m not.

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” she slurs. “That isn’t fair to you. I guess it was weighing on me so heavily that I became too eager and shared the load before I snapped. I must’ve blurted it to you because I subconsciously thought it’d remain a secret between us since you have no friends to confide in. Still, I shouldn’t have burdened you. Forgive me?”

I nod. “I can understand that snapping feeling.”

It’s the reason I’d blurted about the interlude to Aria.

She pats my shoulder glumly before grabbing the chocolate box. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. A package came for you. It’s under the staircase in the closet.”

A package? Has Mum sent me a care package already? I doubt it, even though I’m in desperate need of shampoo.

I watch Mrs. Trix sway down the hallway to her quarters before opening the small closet door and pulling out a huge box. It’s plain and black and yet its pretty matte finish tells me that it’s definitely not from Mum.

Panties. Hundreds of panties stare back at me when I open the top. There’s every shade of green, purple and blue known to man. All gem tones Gant thinks would look perfect on me because they could only be from Gant.

“Why do you wear these? It barely covers your pussy.”

I pick up a thong in a rich shade of plum and try to stop myself from swooning over how soft and freaking pretty the fabric is. Because it doesn’t matter how beautiful they all are, I won’t be wearing them.

I meant it when I said I didn’t want anything else from Gant. I’m already using his money on tuition. But if I squint and contort myself into a pretzel, I can sort of justify it. It’s going to help my future and besides, it’s a fair exchange for all the bullshit he’s put me through, that he’s going to keep putting me through.Right?But these beautiful, sexy,expensivepanties aren’t anything I could delude myself into believing that I deserve.

I pick up another pair, a dark green boy short with a silky mint green bow stitched right above the ass crack. It’s tiny, but the ends of the thin ribbon are long, trailing down to where your ass cheeks would definitely peak out. I put them back, almost afraid of ruining them just by touching them. I always have that habit with things out of my price zone. Just holding them feels like a would-be crime because I could never replace them if something were to happen.

I eye a navy blue pair with little baby blue bows holding the sides together and shake my head, trying to convince myself to not pick it up.

No.

These are nothing but a trap. A play into whatever sick fantasy Gant’s working up in his mind. I’d only be helping him by wearing them.

Who cares?My inner bitch drawls.You’re just being prideful. Too prideful to accept a useful gift, but not prideful enough to stop wearing thrifted, ill-fitting rags.

I skim over the rich colours again.

We’re only punishing ourselves by not wearing them.

In some twisted way, I feel like Ishouldpunish myself for being such an idiot and letting Gant touch me the way he had in Stretch class. The way he always does in my dreams. He’d pissed on me for fuck’s sake! How had I forgotten that for long enough to let him swirl my clit?

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