25 Chapter 8B (1/2)

When I got home, the house was quiet. As usual.

Lolita wasn't here either.

I sighed as I changed out of the clothes I had worn to school, before taking off the wig and throwing it across the room. I walked into the bathroom and took off my contacts as well.

I shook out my hair as I walked into my closet, picking out a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. I stopped and looked around, wondering what I could do to pass the time.

I could call Rain or Angel to come over but I didn't think I was ready for that, at least not yet.

Then there was Avian, but I didn't want to seem desperate.

I sighed again, and grabbed a sweater, before trudging down the stairs in my socks. I walked into the living room and flopped down on the couch, and grabbed the remote off the coffee table.

I placed my feet up on the table, leaned back in the chair, and turned on the television. I was flipping through the channels, scoffing when something came up that was so ridiculous that it shouldn't have been on the screen in the first place, when he walked in.

My mother's pet, also known as boyfriend number who-cared-enough-to-count. I groaned inwardly but didn't say anything as he walked over and flopped down on the same sofa I was seated in.

There was silence as the current movie on the screen played; he kept stealing glances at me creepily and I was inching away from him ever so slightly.

”I have a feeling you don't like me” he said with a grunt, and I turned my head to look at the sorry excuse for a man sitting next to me.

Go figure

I didn't say anything, hoping he would drop it but he sniffed and continued.

”I want you to like me.”

I still didn't say anything, so it was quiet again for some time.

Then he placed his hand on my lap.

I turned to look at him.

”What are you doing?” I asked, picking up his hand and throwing it off my lap. I glared at him but he smiled stupidly and didn't say anything.

Then he put his hand back in my lap, except this time, it was higher up.

”Can you not?” I said angrily, removing his hand again and shifting away from him.

”But I want you to like me” he said and I turned to look at him, wondering what his problem was.

Was he drunk?

I sniffed.

Nope. Just downright crazy.

He shifted closer to me, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the other hand running up my leg.

”That's it,” I muttered, shoving him away and standing up.

When in doubt, get the hell out.

Suddenly, he grabbed my arm and yanked me back down to the couch.

”What are you doing?” I asked, my anger being replaced by.

I felt a cold sliver of fear run down my spine.

He ignored me, and shoved me into the couch, before laying over me.

”I want you to like me,” he said forcefully as he ran his hand up my leg yet again.

My heart beat faster.

”Get off me,” I said, my voice getting shaky. He ignored me, and it was only when he placed his hand between my legs that reality sunk in.

”I want you to like me” the sentence he kept saying replayed itself in my head.

Oh no.

”Get off of me” I yelled, getting more agitated after realizing just how much he wanted me to like him.

”Shut up,” he said, holding my shoulders down with one hand and running another hand over my chest.