I subtly drag my bottom lip through my teeth, gently grinding my teeth against my skin as if I am slowly working my way through. My eyes stay fixated on Daniel, studying him like an exotic animal, waiting for him to pounce and dig his teeth into my neck until my blood seeps out, pouring down my body like a scarlet waterfall. My hands squeeze. My nails dig into my palms, leaving purple marks. "My moms going to be home soon," I say slowly, "we should go somewhere."
He leans into me. "Where do you want to go?"
He doesn't know how serious I am. "Somewhere where no one else is. Somewhere like this, but not."
We get into his car. He tells me that his house is empty, that his father and Mike have gone to Chicago for the weekend. I smile. "Okay," I say and my head rolls to the side, my eyes gazing dreamily out the window, watching as the street lights light up the car every few seconds. Music plays softly in the background, the words not making sense, not sounding like anything but sounds to fill up space.
My eyes roll back over to Daniel, dripping down from his eyes strictly on the road, to his lips, to his jaw as he clenches, to his arms, to his hands gripping the wheel firmly. I can't help but place my hand delicately on his thigh, needing to feel it for myself, needing to put myself in their position. He looks at me, and I give him a dark look, my eyes hiding something. He feeds off of it—the mystery.
I like placing my hand there—it gives me clarity.
When we arrive at the house, I lead the way and wait leaning against the front door when he comes up the path. I watch as he unlocks the door, then I slip inside. He follows me as I wander into the living room, locating a sleek-styled stereo. I start the music and turn the volume up to make it as loud as I remember. The song doesn't matter, just the volume.
I glance back at him before leading him to his bedroom. I can't tell what he's thinking. After turning on the lights, I grab his hand and walk him to his bed, motioning for him to sit down. "Hailey, what are—"
"It's okay," I tell him. "I need this."
Daniel looks worried, then I sit down beside him, facing the window, looking out at the trees and backyard, imaging Daphne drinking and Sam filming. I turn to him and guide him down to my lips. I'm not gentle. It's not like our other kisses, I'm not submissive to him and when he reaches out to me, I grab his hands, stopping him from touching me. "No," I mumble. "You'll like this, I promise."
Daniel seems hesitant as I lead him downwards, bringing him onto his back. The music fills my ears from the hall, muffling, and I get on top of him. "Hailey, no. You don't have—"
"Stop," I say firmly, catching him off-guard. My hands run down his chest, down his abdomen, I don't ask for permission. He clenches his jaw as I grab his shoulders and lean down to kiss him again. I push my tongue into his mouth as was done to me. I shift on top of him as our lips move together, but it wasn't like this. I didn't kiss back like he is. Then I feel him underneath me. A foreign sensation rushes through me and I pull away. "You're not supposed to want this," I tell him. "But you do, don't you? You asked for it. You wanted it. You asked for it."
Daniel snaps back to reality and moves underneath me, trying to sit up, but I hold him down. "Hailey," he says, "you don't have to do this."
"I need to know," I murmur and try to force him back, but I'm not strong enough. "I have to know how he felt. I have to know what it felt like. I have to be in control."
Daniel tries to get up again, but I refuse to move. Then my flustered mind changes and I move beside him on the bed, laying on my back. He looks down at me and I tell him with my eyes, I tell him to get on top of me. Daniel turns away. "I'm not doing this," he says, "not like this."
My heart rate picks up and anger rises within me. "I need to know!"
"No," Daniel says louder, harsher, "I said no."
I glare at him and shoot up from the bed. "No, huh? You're saying 'no?'" I head for the door.
"Hailey," Daniel calls to me from the bed, calmer. "Hailey."
"No!" I shout before storming down the hall. I can feel him behind me, following me. "No! No! No! You know what? Don't talk to me," I swiftly turn to him, "don't ever talk to me again. Leave me alone. Get away from me." When I reach the door he grabs my shoulder and I yank back. "Don't touch me! Don't ever touch me!"
I flee outside and ignore that fact that he is following me still. "Where are you going!" He calls, also sounding angry. "Where are you going!"
I head down the street towards the main road. "I'm going to find someone that'll screw me, how about that?" I yell back. My eyes fill with tears, and I swipe them away, angry at myself. I look back at him hurrying down the street, not paying attention, and I step out into the road. My heart hurtles forward at the sudden sound of a car horn and the air is stolen from my lungs as a car speeds past me.
I am frozen in place, in complete shock, then I simply fall to the ground, landing on my butt. I sit on the curb and take a deep breath. My eyes follow the car as it pulls to the side, the window rolling down, a person shouting, "watch where you're going! Damn it! Dumb bitch!"
Daniel yells back, "alright, alright, she's sorry. Now get outta' here!"
The guy in the car mutters something before continuing on. I glance back at Daniel as he reaches me and pulls me up. "Daniel, I—"
"Come on," he says, cutting me off, probably not wanting to hear my voice.
"But I—"
"Come on."
He brings me back inside, into the living room and he turns off the music. I look up at him—regretful and sorry—and he sits me down on the couch before standing in front of me. Embarrassed over everything I've done, I avoid his eyes and internally curse at myself. It took almost getting hit by a car to bring me back to real life, and now all I want to do is hide under a rock. That side of me—the side that climbed on top of him and tried to—my face turns red. I don't know her, that girl who yelled that she was going to find someone to. . . I don't know her.
"Don't do that again," Daniel says firmly, "don't talk like that again."
I continue to shy away from him, nodding with my head down. "Okay. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that—it wasn't fair. I just—I don't know what's going on with me." I gather the courage to look up. "I don't know why I. . . Asked that of you."
He doesn't say anything. I'm sure he doesn't know what to say, so I continue. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I should go. I should get out of your life. Clearly, I'm not ready for anything like this."
"Don't say that," he says.
"I'm not ready for this, Daniel. I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I can't see you anymore. Not if this is who I become."
He looks up at me, not willing to let go that easily. "I'm not mad, Hailey. I'm not. You just, caught me off-guard, that's all."
I shake my head. "You don't have to make it sound acceptable because it wasn't. It was messed up—I'm messed up, okay? Maybe in another world this would have worked out, maybe if Harrison never. . . I'm sorry, I really am, but I can't do this. I need help. I need to go right now."
Daniel takes me home and it is a quiet ride. When I get inside I hurry past my mother—ignoring her questions—and I lock myself in my bedroom. The drive is still plugged into my laptop, and before I have enough time to cry, my phone rings. Thinking it's Daniel, I pick it up to ignore the call, but I see that it's my Dad calling.
I sigh and answer. "Now's not a good time, it's late and—"
"I know, I know, I'm sorry, but I had to tell you the good news as soon as it was final," my Dad says, confusing me, "Karly and I are moving back to Florida."