Bad Boy Playground (h.s)

twentysix

"No." I bump his thigh with my hip trying to move him but this man is a fucking wall and won't budge.

"You sure?" His tone phlegmatic as he acts like I'm not repeatedly knocking into his body to move his ass.

I've officially lost my shit because my subtle hip bumping turns into me using my whole body to shove him, my arms pushing against his stomach trying my hardest to just get him to budge. It's when my shoes start to slip on the tile floor and my face is smushed against his sternum that I realize this it pointless.

"It happens to everyone." Harry continues as his hands run through my hair and he scratches my scalp.

I can't help but roll my eyes and huff like a toddler, giving up on trying to move him because the son of a bitch doesn't even seem fazed.

"It doesn't." My words come out muffled from my cheek being squished.

Let's be real, having a panic attack in the middle of foreplay doesn't happen to everyone.

I'm so beyond embarrassed that I want to be buried alive. My plan was to avoid Harry and maybe just possible drive my car off a cliff. That seemed like the most logical thing to do.

I honestly thought he'd be running for the hills the second I kicked him out of my bed and almost pushed him out the window. He looked mortified with his head between my thighs when I started crying. He had no idea what he did wrong. It has nothing to do with him more so the lack of control I feel over myself.

It was all going so well too. That's what freaks me out. Harry had snuck into the main office, grabbed a whole pad of exemptions and we were on our way. Using my expert penmanship I filled out the slip for Emma and I and then made Harry go in with us when we gave them to Father John. I was scared enough to see him, I couldn't let Emma and I go in there without backup. Harry was confused when I asked because we agreed to keep us quiet since I have a boyfriend and he has his punk reputation, but he didn't ask questions and just stood silently next to me the whole time.

Afterwards I said goodbye to Emma which she responded by telling me that I had to tell someone or Father John wouldn't stop his harassment. I know she's right, but I firmly believe that denial works as well. She scoffed at that thought.

Harry and I then made our way to my house where I was going to show him how much I appreciated what he had done for me. And as we all now know, it didn't turn out so good.

"I can't help unless you tell me what's wrong."

"I have to get home, I promised my mom I'd help her record her show." I said detaching myself from his body and hopefully being able to make a run for it.

But then he took a hold of my shoulders and guided my back against the lockers, so I'm screwed.

"You've been avoiding me all day, talk to me." Ya know, sometimes I hate how tall he is because having to physically tilt my head back in order to look at his face makes me feel like I'm a child getting reprimanded for stealing a cookie.

And as I look in his eyes I'm drawing a blank. What am I supposed to say? What could make it okay for me to freak out before sex that I told him I wanted to have.

Scanning his eyes across my face and seeing my stubborn disposition, Harry's facade starts to crack and I can see how tired he's getting.

"Hope-" He huffs starting to get frustrated but catching himself. "I can't... I don't... what's wrong with you!" He finally snaps.

"Nothing." Anyone could tell I was lying without even having to look at me.

"Can you cut the shit?"

"Har-"