Kai Parker One Shots

Chapter 60

"Oh my god, it's gone," where's my poetry book? It can't be lost! I started writing those years ago. No, no, no! Suddenly a blast of wind blows hair into my face.

"Are you missing something," Kai waves my book in the air. I reach to grab it from him but he jerks it back and opens it. He begins reading my poems aloud.

"The day you left
Is the day I lost my mind
I've never been whole since
Because you took a piece of me with you
And now I can't seem to fill the void
That you made

I can't fill the hole
Because you dug it up
But you'll never know
Because my pride will never let me show
Just how broken I am
Broken by your hands
Broken forever
Irreversibly broken
All at the hands of the man I trusted most."

"Give me the book, Kai," I warn him. My throat is thick.

"It sounds like you're upset. Who'd you write this about? Dear old daddy? Did he leave you? Newsflash Hun, not everyone has a perfect life," he flips to another page. I grab the closest thing to me and hurl it at him. He catches the trophy and clucks his tongue. "It's not nice to throw things at your guests," he stressed.

"I want the book," I cross my arms. I can't believe that he would read that. My innermost thoughts and feelings were poured into that book. There's no telling how many tears I cried writing those poems.

"Why not read another, hmm," he looks over the book at me. He has the audacity to lean back in my bed and get comfortable before he reads another that glues me to my spot on the floor. I wrote it while I was waiting to find out news about my great grandmothers stroke. The tears that have built up finally spill over as he reads the poem.

"The dark?
Or the light?
Which to choose
The light has been my whole life
But the dark calls out to me
How do I choose?

If I choose the dark what will happen?
I know what will happen if I choose light
But now my bones are tired
And I don't know if I want to choose the light

But what of my family if I choose dark?
I think, in the end, that the dark always wins
Because even the purest of hearts are drawn to it," he looks at my tears.

"Kai stop. Just- just give me the book," I tell him, reaching my hand out, praying he won't read anything else out of the book.

"Why not? Did you not want anyone to ever find out about your poems? Were they private? If they were, you shouldn't have left the book in an open bag at the Grill," he says.

I throw myself at him and try to take the book by force. I end up under him with my hands pinned above my head. "Give me the book," I demand.

"No," he smirks as I struggle to move.

"Why would you take it in the first place," I ask.

"Because I'm a sociopath who has no regard for anyone else's feelings," I can feel his breath against my cheek and I turn my head away. "Come on, don't act so surprised," I can't move.

"I hate you," I whisper.

He acts hurt. "That just kills me inside. My heart is crumbling," his face is so close to mine I can feel his lips brush against my cheek.

"Please just give me the book," I ask embarrassed.

"What's one more poem in light of recent events," he asks. "This one was so touching I don't even have to read it. I know it by heart," he fakes emotion.

"Standing in a noisy hallway
Nothing has ever felt so quiet
Standing in a crowd
I've never felt so lonely
Walking down an abandoned street
Hoping for someone-something
Hoping that something will happen
And this feeling
This feeling of loneliness will disappear
But it won't
Not anytime soon
Because no one cares
No one cares to look beyond their noses
To see the world for what it is
No one cares to see that this world we live in
This horrible, wretched world will never change
Nothing will ever change." He smirks down at me as I again struggle to get away from him. "Looks like someone needs a friend," he chuckles darkly.

"Get out," I order, trying to shove him off of me, but utterly failing.

"It's cute that you think I'll follow your orders, sweetness," he whispers into my ear. "You see, I could do anything and you would be powerless to stop me," he presses a kiss to my lips and then he's gone. All that and he didn't even leave my book. Stupid boy.

***********************************

"Have you seen this? All over campus these poems are just everywhere," she shows me a printed copy of my works. How did this happen?

"Who did this," I ask, although I already know the answer.

"I don't know. The poems are anonymous. There's tons of them," she hands me a stack of poems that I recognize instantly. They're all mine. "I only had time to read this one so far. It nearly brought me to tears," she hands me a sheet. The poem is about when my father left. How he hurt me. How he replaced me with another little girl. How he loved her more than me.

"It's so weird that they're all over campus. I thought there were rules about this stuff," I say.

"They're on the billboards. For student advertisement. Whoever wrote these knows what pain really is," she says in wonder.

"I'll bet," I go along with it. I see Kai from the corner of my eye and head towards him. "I've got to go turn in some worksheets. I'll catch up with you later."

"Did you see that poets work posted over the campus?" He asks, folding his hands behind his back.

"Just give me my book back. Please, Kai. It was bad enough you read the poems. Now everyone on campus knows my business," I extend my hand for the book.

"But no one knows who wrote the poems. No one really knows your business," he shrugs.

"Give me my book," I step closer to him. Our chests are flush against each other and he smirks down at me.

"I just love how you keep putting us in this situation," he says, running his hands down my arms.

"I wouldn't have to if you would just give me the stupid book," I tell him. I'm getting tired of his games.

"If it's a stupid book then I don't know why you'd want it back," he says tauntingly.

"Because it's MY stupid book. Not yours," I push against his chest, trying to put some space between us.

"Well. I thought we could share the stupid book. Because apparently you're more lonely than you let on. I mean, there's pages upon pages of poems about loneliness," he says.

"I'm not lonely," I grit my teeth.

"Obviously you are. Otherwise you wouldn't have jotted it down into your precious notebook," he says. I press my lips to his to distract him and then reach around his back to grab the book. "Did you really think that would work?" He asks cockily.

"Obviously I did otherwise I wouldn't have kissed you," I tell him.

"Well, doesn't that sting," he fakes hurt.  "You know, you're not that bad a kisser. Maybe we could work out a deal," he offers.

"And what would that offer be," I ask sarcastically.

"I'll give you the book if you give me a kiss. A real big one," he says. Should I trust him? Probably not but screw it. I want my book back.

"Deal," I grab him by the collar and pull his lips to mine. His hands wrap around my waist and I run my fingers through his hair. He bites my lower lip causing me to gasp. In the split second my mouth is open his tongue slips in and meets with mine. He pulls away and leans his forehead on mine as we pant for breath.

"Your book is at my house," he says. He leads me off campus and toward what is supposedly his house.When we finally make it to his house we continue our little 'deal' through the house. The living room, the kitchen, and then his bedroom. And it was the best deal I ever made.