Page 19 of Make Me Scream
Part of me… maybe even a big part, wishes I was wearing my skirt, but that’s reserved for games, and I don’t have an excuse to wear one for any other reason. And… I’m just not comfortable enough to wear one without that justification.
Fuck.I grit my crooked teeth as a sting assaults my eyes, and I’m forced to rapidly blink away the liquid threatening to spill over.
“Hey.” Sierra elbows me in the side as we line up. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I mutter as I straighten up, preparing myself for the next hour and a half of shouting mindless cheers. “I’m good.”
“Not too high to focus?” she asks, perfectly manicured brow arched beautifully.
I snort loudly, drawing Ms. B’s attention. She stares at me for a moment before looking away, and Sierra and I giggle for a moment before practice commences.
By the time it’s over, I’m sweating profusely and barely remember a fucking thing, but I surprisingly feel lighter.
Sierra and a few of the other girls gather around. “Good practice. Feeling ready for the game tomorrow, guys?”
Oh, shit.
“Don’t tell me you forgot?” she says accusingly.
“Got a lot of shit goin’ on,” I say defensively, rubbing the back of my sweaty neck.
Fingers curl into the back of my shirt and jerk me backward. I stumble into a hard, hot, sweaty fucking body and about lose my mind. My eyes roll back as Peris drags me backward. “We’ve gotta go,” he mutters in my hair. “Grab your shit.” And then, he shoves me forward. I’m jerked around so fast, I can barely get my footing.
I’m in a daze as I grab my bag—still barely holding on by a thread—and follow Peris. Whispers follow us out through thedouble doors, but they only ensure that Peris tightens his hold on the door he opens for me, then slams for extra measure.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask the moment we step out into the frigid evening air. I shiver, definitely not dressed for the weather. My shorts and crop top do nothing to block the chill.
“Where’s your coat?”
“I don’t fucking have one,” I snap, wrapping my arms around myself. I don’t tell him my jacket is in my bag because that would defeat the whole purpose. I watch in the yellow light of the streetlamps as the muscles in Peris’s jaw jumps before he yanks his hoodie out of his gym bag and throws it in my face.
“Put it on,” he demands.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t fucking start with me, runt,” he says as he stares at me over the roof of his car. Arms resting on the roof, he leans over it. “Put the fucking hoodie on.” And then, he waits, eyes never leaving me.
I don’t last more than five seconds—and I know it’s less than five because I count, slowly.
My body isburningas I drag his sweatshirt over my head, eyes rolling into the back of my head as his smell assaults my senses.
“Good boy,” hepurrs,thick lips pursed.My dick jumps. “Now get in the fucking car.”
The door slams, jolting me out of my reverie. I blink a few times, staring across the darkened lot, seeing my chest heaving in my peripheral and my breath pluming out in small clouds.
Peris honks, and I shriek, hands slamming down on the metal. “Jesus!” I scream. I yank open the door and drop into the seat, slamming the door extra hard. “Was that fucking necessary?” I demand, heart still pounding from both him and the horn.
“It’s freezing. You didn’t need to be standing out there,” is all he says before he backs out and takes us home.
Home…
It won’t be home for long,I think bitterly, my upper lip curling as I drop my head against the cool, fogged over glass as the houses pass us by.
And that’s when it hits me…
When did it become home?
When didtheybecome my home?...
