Bully

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Bully Page 12

by Sky Corgan


  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I'd been to one party too many this semester. I could afford to skip out on this one, I decided. Besides, I had an organic chemistry test coming up that I wasn't sure I would be able to pass without some extra studying.

  It was weird staying in on a Saturday night. The girls dorm was oddly silent, but it was a welcome silence. I had always had trouble concentrating when there was a lot of noise around, though being in college was forcing me to adapt. There was almost always some kind of ruckus going on in the dorm. Music playing. Girls chattering. Just something. Most of the time, I wore noise-canceling headphones to drown it out.

  That wasn't an issue tonight, though. It was just me and my laptop and retrosynthetic analysis.

  I found my eyes drifting to the clock every few minutes, wondering what the girls were doing. Leonor, Melody, and Georgina were probably dancing the night away. Holly was likely cozied up somewhere with Brandon. Dustin was probably tossing back beers with his friends. Only Bobby was sharing in my lameness.

  Maybe I should have asked if he wanted to study together. That would have made this less boring.

  I glanced over at my phone, thinking about texting him. The second I picked it up, it buzzed in my hand. The name that flashed across the screen was unexpected.

  Dustin: Where are you at?

  I smirked. Was he really thinking about me when the party was in full swing?

  Brenna: Not at the party.

  Dustin: I kind of figured that out already. Are you with Bobby?

  That was a strange question. It also immediately made me worry that something was wrong. My pulse quickened as I wondered if Bobby was in trouble.

  Brenna: No. I'm in my dorm room studying. Why?

  Dustin: You should come to party.

  I sighed in relief. Apparently, there was no drama involving Bobby. I could only assume that Dustin would tell me if there was.

  Brenna: Can't. I have a test in organic chemistry on Monday. I need to study.

  Dustin: You have all day tomorrow to study.

  Brenna: I'm not coming. You'll just have to drink a beer in my stead.

  I rolled my eyes, setting my phone back down. That short text conversation made me shelve the idea of studying with Bobby, though I wasn't sure why. Maybe because Dustin's text came across as disapproving. I was probably reading into it wrong. Why would he give a shit if I was hanging out with Bobby?

  My phone buzzed again, and I glanced over at it.

  Dustin: I took organic chemistry last year. I can help you study if you'd like.

  His offer surprised me.

  Brenna: Is the party really that boring?

  Dustin: Same shit, different party. Are you in or not?

  I could almost feel his impatience through the phone. The guy definitely didn't beat around the bush.

  Brenna: I'm in.

  Dustin picked me up, and we drove to the diner down the street. He seemed serious about wanting to help me study. We sat across from each other in a booth, and he asked me questions written on index cards, and I answered them the best that I could. I missed almost half of them the first go round, but he patiently went over the answers with me until I was able to get most of them right.

  I offered to buy him a milkshake for helping me out, but he decided to order a whole meal instead, insisting on picking up the tab.

  “More milkshake for me then,” I said before slurping down the vanilla milkshake that I had ordered.

  He smirked at me, watching me drink my milkshake as he waited for his food to arrive.

  “I figured you didn't come to the party tonight because Bobby wasn't invited.” He unwrapped his silverware, his gaze never meeting mine.

  “Why would you think that?” I stirred my milkshake with my straw.

  “You and him have always been attached at the hip. Where he goes, you go.”

  “That's not true.” I furrowed my brow. He must have missed those several weeks where Bobby and I didn't hang out together at all.

  “It's always been true.” He gave me a sarcastic look.

  “It has not,” I insisted, quickly getting frustrated with the topic.

  “Oh, come on, Brenna. I'm not fucking blind. Everyone knows you like the guy. Everyone has always known that you like him.”

  My mouth fell open. Had it really been that obvious?

  “I don't like him. Not like you think I do, at least. Not anymore,” my voice seemed to grow weaker the more that I spoke.

  “Not anymore, huh?” He huffed as if he didn't believe me. “What changed?”

  I shook my head, not wanting to think about it. “Everything. I grew up. Realized I was chasing someone who never cared about me like that. It's embarrassing to say.” I averted my eyes.

  “It's not embarrassing.”

  “It's not?” I glanced up at him.

  “People like who they like.” He shrugged. “They can't help it.”

  “I suppose not.” I sank into my seat, feeling depressed. This was not a subject I had expected to discuss tonight.

  Dustin's meal arrived, and silence fell over us while he ate. All I could think about was how much all of us had changed. Even I had changed—my eyes slowly opening to the world around me. It felt like I had lived in my own little fantasy land in high school. Now I was seeing things for what they really were.

  Thinking about it all only made my mood tank further. I didn't want to mull over it anymore, but there seemed to be no distraction. The only thing that might help was alcohol.

  “I kind of wish I would have gone to the party,” I said absentmindedly as Dustin finished his last bite of chicken fried steak.

  “It's not too late.” He looked at his wristwatch before wiping his mouth with his napkin.

  “It's pretty late.” It was past 1 AM. Most of the booze would already be drunk, the people starting to wind down for the night.

  “It's never too late for drinking.” Dustin's eyes widened as he grabbed the bill. “What say you? Are you in or are you out?”

  “I'm in,” I chuckled, wondering how much fun we could cram into the span of an hour.

  ***

  The frat house was full of people. In fact, when we walked in, it seemed like the party was still going strong. The girls were nowhere to be seen, but it didn't really matter. Dustin didn't abandon me.

  He led me to the basement where several guys were playing beer pong. We sipped rum and coke as we waited for our turn. Then we took to the table, and I got my ass handed to me. By the time the game was over, my belly was so full of carbonation that I felt like I was going to explode.

  “That is so not fair!” I whined at Dustin while he set the table up for the next game. “You have the home advantage.”

  “I probably have a few games on you.” He admitted with a grin.

  I doubted he just had a few games on me. He only ended up having to drink two beers. My world was spinning on its axis. I had drank too much too quickly. Bad move. For someone who had done such a good job of protecting me from myself so far, Dustin was failing miserably tonight.

  “I shouldn't have done that.” I pressed my palm against his chest to stabilize myself as he walked back over to me. It felt like leaning against a brick wall. He was so solid.

  “Nope. Challenging me to beer pong is never a good idea.” He grabbed my arm when I started to teeter over.

  “I'd never played before. It looked like fun.” I puffed out my cheeks, though I didn't know why.

  Dustin laughed. “Let's get you some water.”

  “Good idea.” I followed him upstairs to the kitchen where he poured me a glass of water. There was almost no room for it with all of the beer inside of me.

  Worried that it would come up and not wanting to make an ass out of myself in front of Dustin again, I excused myself to the bathroom to force myself to throw up. I felt a lot better after that, though I was starting to get a wicked headache. There was no way I wouldn't have a hangover tomorrow.

  “Oh,
fuck my life,” I groaned as I emerged from the bathroom.

  Dustin was waiting for me with that same shit-eating grin on his face. Apparently, it amused him to see me inebriated.

  “I need to go back to my dorm. The bed is calling my name,” I told him, ready to call it a night.

  “You're too drunk to walk alone.”

  “Then you should drive me.” I picked a piece of lint off of the front of his shirt. To be honest, I just wanted to touch him. Again, the alcohol was making me feel frisky, though I was way too ill to act on it.

  “I'm too drunk to drive you.”

  “What in the hell, Dustin? You only had three drinks.” I gave him a suspicious look, peering up into his eyes to see if he was telling the truth. Sure enough, they were glazed over.

  “No. You only saw me drink three drinks. I'll have you know that while you were in the bathroom worshiping the porcelain Goddess, I was taking shots of Fireball.”

  “You heard me puking?” My mouth fell open in embarrassment.

  “I'm pretty sure that everyone heard you puking.” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

  “So humiliating.” I covered my face with my hands.

  “Not as humiliating as throwing up on my shoes in front of the house.”

  “Don't remind me.” I cringed from the memory. Almost the second I opened my eyes, the world began to spin again. “Oh, crap. I really need to go lie down.”

  “Come on.” Dustin wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

  I wasn't sure where he was leading me, but I followed him anyway. When he started up the stairs, I felt a blush come to my cheeks. I knew what those rooms were for. They weren't just bedrooms. During parties, they became the fuck rooms. Did he want to...?

  I held firmly onto Dustin as we ascended the stairs. He looked really hot. Like...really super duper hot. The gray T-shirt he was wearing hugged his biceps. He wore gray a lot, I realized. It was a good color on him. Made his eyes stand out.

  Those eyes. I wondered what they'd look like when he was...Oh my God, how could I even think such things? This was Dustin Nikoli. He was a grade A asshole. I'd rather cut his dick off than feel it inside of me. Wouldn't I?

  The answer was I knew that was bullshit. I knew that if he made a move on me, I would fall right into bed with him. And I secretly hoped that I would. I secretly hoped that's why he was taking me upstairs.

  Damn the consequences, I needed to get laid. I had way too much pent up sexual frustration.

  He took me into the room that I distinctly remembered being his and sat me down on the bed before handing me a glass of water. “Drink as much as you can.”

  I did as he told me, wanting to catch a reprieve from the drunkenness so that I could enjoy the experience when he inevitably pounced on me. We were both drunk. I was alone in his room. Surely to God, it would happen. It had to.

  “I think you should stay here tonight,” he told me as he stood, towering over me.

  “Yes. I think this is a good idea.” I nodded, staring blatantly at his crotch. I wanted to touch it, but I was too shy.

  “I'm tired too. We should probably go to bed.” He walked a few feet away before stopping.

  When his hands went to the waistband of his shirt, my heart caught in my throat. His movements were too quick for me to savor it, the peeling off of his shirt, the exposing of delicious skin and muscle. The room got about twenty degrees hotter as that shirt came off, and my panties practically flooded with moisture.

  Holy fucking shit he was gorgeous.

  My mouth dried up like the desert as I ogled him. I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away. I didn't care if he caught me looking. Maybe I even wanted him to see—wanted him to take it as an invitation.

  He ignored my gaze, oblivious to the tingling sensations running through me from being in his Adonis-like presence. He approached me, and my heart quickened, though the excitement quickly faded away as he grabbed one of the pillows from his bed and tossed it onto the floor before going to turn off the light. When he went to lie down on the floor, I knew my fantasies of having sex with him were going to remain just that. Fantasies.

  “What are you doing?” I quirked an eyebrow.

  He shot me an annoyed glance, though I could barely make it out in the darkness. “What does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to bed.”

  “On the floor?”

  “Yeah, on the floor. You can sleep on the bed.”

  I frowned, disappointed that the night hadn't played out like I had hoped. Submitting to defeat, I kicked my feet up over the side of the bed and laid down, hugging his pillow and inhaling his scent. My clit pulsed from the sheer masculinity of it.

  Dustin Nikoli's scent. It was absolutely heavenly. Like a powerful pheromone calling to my most feminine desires.

  Knowing that he was lying shirtless on the floor just a few feet away had me feeling all sorts of strange things. I was sure that the alcohol had a lot to do with it too. Despite knowing that it was better to leave things as they were, I wasn't satisfied. I couldn't accept that this was how my night was going to end.

  “You know,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks grow warm from my own boldness. “There's enough room on this bed for the both of us.” When he didn't respond, I continued. “The floor must be awfully uncomfortable.”

  Shut your traitorous mouth, Brenna. What in the hell are you doing?

  I heard a loud sigh followed by shuffling. Dustin's silhouette emerged from the floor a second before I heard him say, “Move over.”

  With way more giddiness than I should have felt, I complied, making room for him. The bed shifted beside me as he crawled onto it. And then we were close. So damn close together. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. Smell the remnants of Fireball. It should have made me nauseous, but it was actually rather pleasant. I could stomach it now that the spins had finally ceased.

  “You better not try anything funny,” I told him, not wanting him to think that I craved his attention.

  God, what was wrong with me? Make up your damn mind, Brenna.

  He snorted. “You're the one who told me to get on the bed.”

  “And now I'm telling you to keep your hands to yourself.” I scooted a bit further away.

  “And what if I don't?”

  His hand brushed my face before I even saw it coming. For a split second, I jerked away. But then I relaxed into his touch. Oh my God, it felt so good to be touched by him. Way better than I had ever imagined. I swooned in my drunken state, wanting his hands everywhere. He didn't explore though. He simply laid there, caressing my cheek in the darkness.

  “You know, I've always thought you were beautiful,” he whispered, his voice so earnest that it made my heart flutter.

  “Really?” I did a poor job of hiding my gratitude for the compliment.

  “A different kind of pretty from the other girls.”

  Less of a compliment.

  My heart sank a bit.

  “A natural kind of beauty.”

  Better. Back up the hill of happy tummy butterflies.

  “A lot of girls need makeup to look pretty. Not you. You've always been pretty.”

  “Aw. I bet you say that to all of the girls,” I laughed nervously, unsure of how else to respond.

  His body moved closer, and I stiffened in response. He propped himself up on one arm. It felt like there was a stampede raging through my chest. This was really happening...really going to happen. I wasn't sure if I wanted it to not, but I braced myself anyway.

  His lips found mine in the darkness, and fireworks went off inside my body so blinding that all I could feel was good.

  I fisted my hand in his hair, drawing him to me. My leg wrapped around his hip as sheer need took over. Every erogenous part of my body pulsed from being so close to him. A kiss had never felt this intense before.

  He pulled away, and I followed, my mouth chasing his. It landed on his cheek, and I kissed him there. Then his throat.

  I felt like a ravenous animal. My appetite
for him wouldn't be denied. I pushed him down onto his back and crawled on top of him. My hands flew to his belt, and I quickly worked to unbuckle it.

  “Stop,” he breathed, but I wasn't listening. He had to grab my hand before I finally gave pause.

  “What's wrong?” My eyes searched his face.

  When I bent to kiss him again, he turned away.

  “You're drunk,” he said like it was news to us both. “I'm drunk. You don't mean this. It could be a mistake.”

  “It's not a mistake,” I growled, pulling his belt from his waist in one fell swoop before tossing it over the side of the bed.

  When I went to kiss him this time, he reciprocated. His fingers curled into my hair as he held me close. I moaned into his mouth, my tongue tasting every inch of him.

  Within seconds, I was tossed onto my back, the power exchange shifting between us. He captured my wrists and held them above my head, and I bucked my hips up against him in response. I was ready for whatever he wanted to do to me. So ready.

  “Brenna,” he said my name almost pleadingly.

  “Show me what you've got, stud,” I challenged him.

  “Goddammit, stop it.” His voice took a firm turn that made me cower internally. He was angry.

  I didn't know how to react. All I could do was lie there feeling like a puppy that was getting chastised for pissing on the carpet.

  “We're not doing this.” He let go of my wrists. Then he crawled off of me and laid down beside me.

  Without warning, I erupted into sobs. Where they came from, I had no idea. There was no logic behind them. No reason why I should be crying. He hadn't wronged me in any way. He had just rejected me.

  Rejected me. Just like Bobby had, I thought bitterly, though this was nothing like what had happened with Bobby. This was far worse.

  Dustin pulled me into his arms, holding me against his chest. I was absolutely mortified by my erratic behavior, but I couldn't stop crying.

  “I'm sorry,” I repeated over and over again until all of the energy left me.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The morning came with a splitting headache and the awkwardness of waking up and finding Dustin on the floor. He must have relocated after I passed out last night. I couldn't be more ashamed or embarrassed if I tried. The memory of throwing myself at him and him pushing me away stung to the very depths of my soul. I knew that my raging hormones had ruined things between us. Nothing would ever be the same again.

 

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