A/N... Um... 'Nuff said. Lol. o.O Be prepared for a mind-stab.
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Chapter 6 - Hell Hath No Fury Like The Wrath Of A Woman
"We are Fighting Dreamers Takami wo mezashite
Fighting Dreamers Narifuri kamawazu
Fighting Dreamers Shinjiru ga mama ni
Oi Oi Oi Oh! Just go my way!"
The song blasted from my car speakers right when I pulled in on high school avenue. Rachelle had pressed the next button on my c.d. player and started laughing immediately, bobbing her head to the hard rock song.
"You like this shit?" She exclaimed excitedly. She wasn't silent anymore, it had been only 5 minutes without her talking which felt like an eternity. I had meant to ask her why so silent, when she'd turned my music on.
"Aye," I answer simply, cracking a smile though wondering if she's just playing with me again.
"And I thought you were all classical and romance type, Richie!" She grins, still rocking her head slightly.
I chuckled nervously, seeing the high school up ahead about two blocks. Exhaling a sigh, I stop at the stop sign and shrug. "I am that, too. It depends on my mood." I'm shocked when she starts singing along with the song. In a bit of relief, I start singing along too, letting myself run away in the beat and nod my head in unison with her.
"Saa kokoro no me Mihiraite Shika to ima wo mikiwamero! (Yeah! )
Ushinau mono nante nai sa Iza mairou!"
After the song ended, I'm breathless and the car is parked at the high school parking lot, in one of the teacher's reserve slots. Diamond by Alan started playing when I was about to turn the ignition off and Rachelle's hand was placed on mine, stopping me. My heart leaps at that simple touch and I turn to her with a questioning look, almost expecting her to start flirting with me.
"An anime soundtrack," she eyes me suspiciously and lifts an eyebrow.
I let out the breath I'd been holding and look at her in surprise. The song is slow, sensual, and sad, setting quite a different mood for us than before. "And you... watch anime, Ms. Mitchelson?"
I hear the song 'Smooth Operator' play in my head, sarcastic and mocking. I sound so corny, the words came out slow and drawled, as if I were asking her a completely different question. It's probably 'cause I'm distracted, by her hand on mine. I notice despite my skin being hot as hell, hers was cold as ice.
"Only when I'm really, really bored. My brother is obssessed with the stuff and I have impeccable hearing so it's impossible for me NOT to memorize the words," she answers.
A brother? She has a brother? I never knew that...
"Oh, well..." What do I say? "We should go inside."
"After this song's over," she insists.
I look at the time. 8:27. More time has lapse than I thought. The song would be over in a few and I could get in the school right on time... Yeah, sure I could listen to the rest of the song with her.
"Alright," I mutter, letting my hand fall to the car seat and relax.
We sit there silently, listening to the song. She leans back and closes her eyes, her lips falling slightly to reveal an arched upturn, but not exactly a smile. She looks very relaxed and angelic like, the way the dim light glows off her tan skin and thick eyelashes. I watch her closely and notice a slight twitch at the corner of her lips when the last line played.
"Itsuka nareru kara kitto..."
I thought I saw her frown for a split second until...
"KETCHUP!"
My head hits the roof of the car. Literally. I rub my hair and look at Rachelle's amused face as she starts laughing.
"What the bloody hell?" I say.
She starts pointing at me. "I'm sorry, I just had to-"
"Yeah, yeah," I grumble, though I can't help but smile. That was the most randomest thing I have experienced, and so not expected from Rachelle Mitchelson. I hurry up and turn my car off before she convinces me to listen to another song, which I had a feeling she would. The time says 8:31. I grumble in irritation and she looks at me funny.
"What's wrong?" she teases.
"I'm late."
"You're late?!" she lifts her eyebrow. "The dance doesn't start for another hour. Unless your car is a DeLorean."
"No, mine's much better looking and runs on ramen instead of banana peels." I freeze. I can't believe I just said that, so casually and sarcastically. I open the door to my car and leave as quick as I can, about to run around the other side to open the door for her when she's already out, sliding through my side again. And she's not wearing her jacket, and she's laughing. Great, she's making fun of me. Just great. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.
"Alright, let's get your homework, I'm already late as is."
"You don't have to be so uptight, and tense," She purrs, shutting my door and walking beside me to the school. I see a few more vehicles in the dark, spotting Ms. Jenningson's. I almost forgot about her...
"If you hadn't forgotten your homework, then I wouldn't have to be so tense."
I opened the door to the school and walked through the halls, seeing a few teachers and students scattered here and there and talking about the dance or some odd subject.
"It's no reason to be tense. Being late, or forgetting something, mixing up the colours in a rainbow..." she trails off and I stop in the hall, giving her a knowing look.
"So it was you."
"Only if you say so," she replies teasingly before walking past me a few feet and entering the science room. How did she do that? It's locked...
I reach my hands into my pocket and feel nothing. My keys are missing! Shite, how did she manage that?! I run after her into the bright light of the classroom, seeing her already looking through the files in MY desk drawers.
"Mr. Mitchelson, get out of my drawers!" I order with irritation. What if she messes up the colours again, or worse, mixes up the contents between drawers?! All I can think of is that first semester's papers get mixed up with third, and the test sheets get mixed up with the quizzes and homework. Oh, it'll be a mess and it'll take hours to resort...
Little did I know. I chose the wrong selection of words. Lucky me!
"Your drawers, Richard?" Her fingers were already on the collar of my shirt, pulling me down to her height. Breathless and shocked, I struggle to get out of her grip, but like her hand on my leg earlier, she's much too strong. In alarm I do nothing but stare at her eyes twinkling with delight, which are incredibly close to mine. "Are you daydreaming about me, Richard?"
"It's nighttime," I manage in a strained voice.
"Another excuse," she pulls me closer and fans her icy cool breath on my lips. A lump forms in my throat and I can't breathe, our lips insanely close now, almost touching. I can smell the strawberry lipgloss she's wearing and practically feel the texture of her lips without even touching. I can't help but stare at those heart-shaped wonders, so full and curved upward in a seductive smile.
I forget for a few seconds where I am and who I am, merely absorbing the fine features of her face. The slim curve of her chin, slender but strong jaw, cheeks so bronze and smooth it's like stained porcelain. And yet... there's a cold appearance about her, there's no crimson blush in her cheeks. There's no blood that fills up behind that skin like so many other girl's in school I've seen. It makes me wonder whether she's even attracted to me while she's acting like this... I'm convincing myself once more, that this is all an act. And I remember her reputation in a full blown force, making all those warm, alluring sensations coming from the expectation of a kiss shatter into a million shards.
"Rachelle, I can't," I mutter.
Our lips are so close that our breaths are exchanged and when I talk my lips brush gently against hers. I stifle the low rumble that threatened to come up my throat, tingles and fire shooting through my veins.
"You want to, Richard," she whispers.
Our eyes meet for a few seconds and those large orbs of magnetizing blue bleed into pure blackness and solid white of her eyes. I can see her so closely I notice there are no blood veins in her eyes like everyone else's. It amazes me, and for a split second, I think of doing only one thing. Taking her mouth in mine and crashing her into my desk. Shocked at my own forward thoughts, I blink rapidly and attempt to shake my head, trying to shame myself out of wanting to kiss her.
"You're attractive," I manage out in a low, husky voice. "Very... attractive."
She slightly parts her lips and lets her tongue slide across the bottom lip, the tips of her pure white teeth barely showing. I curl up inside and start bashing myself in the head mentally. Stop those insane, naughty thoughts! You don't like her!
"And?" she asks, waiting for me to elaborate.
I'm actually surprised she hasn't moved on me yet. That she hasn't taken the last half inch towards my mouth and kissed me. Judging by her strength and speed, and sneakiness from snatching my keys and sneaking up behind me, I know she could. But she doesn't. That puzzles me enough to keep my mind straight enough not to just let pure carnal desire take over.
"But... I don't like you. I'm sorry... I can't." I repeat, trying to move my lips as less as possible, succeeding in our lips not brushing once.
"Why?" she asks. Her voice sounds perfectly casual and alluring, but I catch a glimpse of fear in her eyes. What is she afraid of? I can't just tell her I like her. That would end up hurting her in the end... and I'm not a careless person, I don't play with girls' feelings. But when she said that one simple word I wanted to say anything, everything I could to keep her eyes from falling in sadness. From rejection, from a bitter truth.
"You've changed, Rachelle."
She pulls back slightly and gives me a puzzled look before instantly putting on the amused act hastily. I thought I saw that frown return again when she smiled, full-fledged. "Changed how? Have you been watching me, Richard?"
I said her name... I couldn't stop the personal stuff about to leave my mouth. The real reason why I don't like her... anymore.
"Heh, how can I not?" I admit, letting out a soft chuckle, which surprises me. I rarely chuckle and definitely not at myself. Realizing I had just played into her little scheme I quickly add, "You're not the same girl I knew three years ago."
"And what kind of girl was I then?"
"You were..." I pause as I remember how she was at 15, when she'd first entered high school. Her hair had been raggedy, messy as if she'd just gotten up out of bed. She'd worn these adorable purple rimmed glasses shaped like hearts and her uniform always got food stains on it, ice cream, ketchup, relish you name it. That reminds me... KETCHUP? I wonder why she said that.
"... a mess." I finished, letting out that unfamiliar chuckle.
Rachelle surprised me by looking down, trying to hide her gaze by lowering her eyelashes. "And I'm not now?"
"Uh..." I muttered stupidly. "Perhaps... I meant that... you were the good kind of mess when you were younger. Now... your grades are failing, you're late all the time, you break the school dress code 'every' day and..."
"And what?" she looks at my with a glint of anger suddenly. Too stunned I don't say anything. I was going to say 'And you're 'popular' with the guys.'
"And I'm a slut?" her voice is so innocent it's like she's joking, trying to hide the hurt in her eyes. "Isn't that what you were going to say?"
"No!" I exclaim before being shoved harshly back by her hand, almost stumbling backwards.
"You were gonna say that, Mr. McKenseth. It's written all over your face. Ms. Goody Good Rachelle Mitchelson used to have straight As, perfect attendance, and never showed more than an inch of skin." She said this in a mocking tone, her anger visibly building.
"Rachelle-"
"And now she's a damned failure who parties all night and sleeps with all the guys in school. She's a slut. Say it, Mr. McKenseth. I'm a slut!" Despite the anger in her eyes I saw her lips quiver and her jaw tremble.
"Rachelle!" Instead of falling into her 'reverse psychology' I blurt out very stupidly. "How can I not think that of you? Your clothes aren't exactly modest, and your grades ARE failing, the guys are always oogling their eyes on you, drooling, whistling, and you try to act all innocent. Like it's some kind of game to you. You don't have to act like-"
"Like a slut!" she replies angrily.
"No!" I feel myself getting very frustrated and angry as well. "You don't have to push yourself-"
"Like a slut!"
"Stop it," I demand, highly irritated now. She was trying to push guilt on me for thinking of her exactly what her reputation places her. It's not yesterday's news that she's slept with all the guys in the school her age, and even some older. It's today's news, and tomorrows, and she'll keep doing it. That's why I can't be with her. I'll just be used and possibly lose my job if anyone found out. If even a RUMOUR spreads that I even kissed her, let alone slept with her, my reputation would be ruined forever.
"What? I thought guys liked sluts-"
"Will you stop saying that word?"
"Slut. Slut. Slut." she was trying to annoy me on purpose. The hurt in her eyes was now very visible and... was she almost crying? Okay, now I feel bad.
"Rachelle. Rachelle! Please, calm down." I walk towards her and she takes a step backwards, glaring at me evenly.
"No, I won't calm down."
Why is everything tumbling down now? Because I didn't give in to her sexual whims? I didn't expect for her to take rejection this harsh and turn it into an anger storm. I really didn't. I had been complimenting her former self and she'd snapped. I miss where I'd said something wrong... she'd try and put the words in my mouth. I am so stunned and completely clueless, but that doesn't stop me from attempting to convince her that I was not calling her a slut.
"Calm down, I'm not calling you a slut-"
"Only behind me back."
I furrow my brows. "No, I never called you a slut behind me back."
"So you say," she snaps.
Alright, this is pointless. I see a glint of humour flash over her face and then it disappears. Wait, what?! Was her getting angry another part of her game? I suddenly feel humiliated and very angry. All my shyness is gone, every last straw that ever made me feel obligated to not make her feel bad, or to upset her just because I used to like her... I thought she still had some of her former Rachelle in her. Apparently I am wrong.
"Rachelle, I thought you were better than this! Chasing after guys, using your body, charisma, sex as reputation building blocks. Whatever happened to you? The whole world could blow up right now and you'd be walking through the fire making everyone stare at you and they wouldn't notice the buildings collapsing. Seriously, why wouldn't someone think of you as a slut after everything you've done? Tell me that!"
"You're not any better than me! You don't know me. You have no right to judge!" She screamed back. I would be surprised if anyone in the hall didn't hear her.
I had definitely hit the target. Bulls Eye.
"Judge what?! It's written all over you. You slept with all the guys in school. What am I supposed to think? That you'll just suddenly up and change miraculously and not use me, too?"
"Is that how lowly you think of me, Richard? That I fuck for popularity?"
Acting all innocent still! Denying every rumour that has ever been spread about her? "What I'm saying is, you shouldn't. I don't even know you anymore. What happened to the sweet Rachelle with the stains on her clothes and not her heart?"
"That Rachelle is gone, MR. MCKENSETH. I'm just Ms. Mitchelson now. And if you don't like it, then fuck you! All I wanted was a date and you couldn't even do that! You think you're so fucking cool because you get to boss us students around and tell us what to do! And you judge me like you've known me my whole life. Let me tell you something, RICHARD. Just because you're in the same classroom as someone every day for over three years, doesn't mean they're actually there with you. You're wrong about me, but so was I about you. I thought you were the fucking sensitive guy-"
"I am fucking sensitive!" I reply. "So bloody sensitive that I know you poison the ground you walk on."
I know. Not smooth, but we were both in the furnace. I feel so out of character, like it's a dream, and we're both fuming. My hands are in fists and our chests are heaving. Through all the insults I still sense this spark of amusement in Rachelle's tone and it just infuriates me more. How dare she act like this spurt of anger is just. A. Game!
I wince loudly, clutching my stomach and touching cold metal. She just threw my keys at me, right in the chest and rushed towards the door to leave! "Drive the nail through your own heart, asshole!" she screams.
"Go find another sewer to live in, skank!" I yell out, breathing heavily.
Suddenly... every thing comes to a stand still. She pauses in her steps and I'm frowning intensely, eyebrows furrowed and not taking back that word that I so carelessly flew her way. Her shoulders tensed and her neck did something strange, cocked to the side as she rolled her shoulders. All the air in the room seemed to fill with tension and stop in its' tracks, becoming calm and deadfully silent, as if waiting for the small rock to fall and start the avalanche.
Turning around dreadfully slow, Rachelle gave me the deadliest glare I have ever seen. It reminded me of a cornered dog with teeth bared, growling and ready to prance and rip your flesh to a million shreds. Only multiplied a thousandfold. Her chest is heaving so rapidly I take full notice of her breasts clenching to the tight leather of her corset, bulging slightly with every harsh inhale. I can't help but get turned on by her dangerous look, and I actually feel special, knowing that look is directed towards me. I have never seen her angry, upset, or even embarrassed in the entire 3 1/2 years she's been her. And here she is, bearing all at me, right now, in the privacy of a science lab with no one to stop her. Crazy ideas suddenly pop up in my head, making my boiling blood to run dizzy.
"Richard..." She growls lowly, in a warning tone, challenging me. I feel my abdomen squeeze with heat from the dangerous pitch of her usually hyper voice.
"Rachelle..." I answer in a mockingly low tone. I feel high and mighty to accept the challenge, and respond with a challenge of my own. I didn't know I had the courage to do something this... INSANE.
Stunned, I'm left with her leather boots scuffing the floor, turning angrily from me and slamming the door so hard I thought the glass would break. It didn't. I have an inquiry to run after her right now... but I don't.
Stupid Shit me. What did I get myself into? I agree with Rachelle for the second time today. I am an asshole. But there's no way she's getting an apology from me, not after trying to get in my pants like I'm another high school quarterback.
I feel remotely satisfied and energized.
Most of all, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulder. Strange, but true... and I don't know why.
After a few minutes of trying to calm my shaking body and steady my fuming nerves I shout out in exasperation and confusion, clasping my hair in my hands tightly:
"What the bloody fuck!"