by Jaye Cox
Sawyer’s hands move to my throat, and I feel his heat as he curves his body against mine. He rests his forehead on my shoulder for a second, before kissing the back of my neck and sinking his teeth in. I moan and roll my head to the side, giving him better access to the soft skin of my neck, silently begging him to bite me there too.
He marks me, then throws me around with force. I can barely catch my breath, not used to the stamina of a man. I shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, but I can’t help but compare him to Kalen. No one could compare to Kalen’s monster cock – there’s no way I could take him from behind and have my cervix remain intact – but Sawyer really knows how to use what God gave him. And I love every second of it. We fit together sexually and it’s fucking amazing.
Sawyer shifts his hips slightly, changing the angle just enough to tear one last orgasm from me, and he cums with me. We both fall back into the bed, spent. We lie there for a few minutes before he is on top of me again, kissing all the places he has left marks. There are a lot.
“These will bruise tomorrow,” he says, and I shrug.
“Good. I love that you know what I like.”
“I wasn’t too rough?” he asks. I shake my head.
“I could go rougher.”
“I don’t know if I can forget that happened, tomorrow.”
“Me either. But what choice do we have? This could never work in the real world, Sawyer. I’m a student and you’re a teacher. Three years is too long to wait.”
“I know. I know that Kalen is the better choice for you. Maybe you should give him a chance, he would love you unconditionally and would never hurt you like the rest of us would.”
“Nothing has happened with me and the twins.”
“Yet...I see the way they look at you, but they are just as messed up as I am.” Goose bumps line my skin as his fingers run down past my belly button.
“I don’t know if I could promise not to break his heart. I make impulsive decisions. I’ve never dated before; my brother was too protective after what happened to me.”
“I would be the same. So what do we do tomorrow?”
“Pretend it never happened.” I sigh.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” he whispers.
Me either, Sawyer, me either.
Chapter Twenty-One
The school week has flown by, and Kalen still refuses to talk to me, making excuses to leave every time I approach him.
Sawyer is true to his word, and we have gone back to pretending nothing happened. Slate has eased up, and our singing together has been productive because of it, we practice together nearly every day and I work hard when he’s not around too. I’m desperate not to let him down. We’re ready to incorporate some dance moves – his idea, not mine. I’m terrified of making a fool of myself.
Onyx is still the same...we run every day, he doesn’t talk to me, but I don’t miss the subtle touches of his arm against mine either. I did explain what happened with Baxter, and while he just grunted at me and took off, at least he heard me out. Our running has consisted of me talking, and him pretending not to listen. I’ll give him that, if anything, he is a good listener because he rarely talks when he is pissed.
I think as a punishment he has started running in the morning, but from my dorm, after he turns up with coffee.
We finish our run and as usual we stop at my dorm and stretch, just as some girls are leaving for breakfast. I think by now rumours are spreading around fast. I ignore them. Things have become so normal that I’m feeling increasingly agitated at myself, and yet every day I keep falling into the same routine.
“Morning sunshine,” Elsie says, coming to stand beside us. On Fridays we have assembly for the first period. Onyx huffs and walks away. “I see he is his usual bubbly self.”
“Yeah, same as always. He still isn’t talking to me since he thinks I screwed Baxter.”
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t. He offered to fuck you. Baxter freaking Branson. It would have been like fucking a unicorn.”
“I should be honoured he offered then?”
“I am just saying, you would literally be the only girl here to ever do it; the guy is an enigma. Rumours say he is a serial killer, and girls throw their panties at him.”
“They do not,” I say, as we fall in step together on our way to breakfast.
“Um, yes, ask him when you see him next.”
“I will.” I laugh even though I have been avoiding him. Which I will continue to do...at least until after I get Kalen to listen to me.
The dining hall is full, Elsie tells me to find a seat and she will get our breakfast. Our usual table is free. It’s almost like kids are afraid to sit here in case a Knox doesn’t like it. Kalen and Slate watch me take my seat. I try not to look, the thought of Kalen still hating me, making me tear up.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Elsie asks, placing a tray on the table. I snatch my coffee and take a sip.
“I’m an idiot.”
“Why?” she says, sifting through the food, sorting out what is hers and what is mine. I don’t understand how she eats those egg white omelettes. Yuck.
“Because I had a plan to get home.”
“Yes, you mess things up and get sent home...I still say do not even try because you will not get sent home.”
“That isn’t the problem. It’s that everything seems so normal, I actually like it here.”
“And what’s the problem with that?” she asks, taking a mouthful of something that looks like soggy spinach.
“I want to go home, Elsie, but now when I do, it will be so much harder to leave.”
“I would not worry about it. You still have a while here and hey, I will always be your friend! Maybe when I am finally free of this place, I can come to Australia with you. I haven’t got anything keeping me here.”
“For real?”
She nods, and I feel so much better.
Once we finish eating, we head to assembly in the main hall. We find a seat and wait while the room fills with students. Monty stands at the podium, and Sawyer stands next to him. They talk, and I find myself staring. Sawyer looks up at me and smiles. My face goes red and I look down.
“OMG!” Elsie says.
“What?” I whisper.
“I didn’t see it before, but I do now.” She leans in closer. “You screwed him.”
“What...no. You’re imagining things.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, as Monty starts addressing everyone. “We will be talking about this.”
I refuse to answer her; if she can see it that means others might be able to, and I make a mental note to try and see Sawyer later so we can have a game plan. Monty drones on about being the leaders of tomorrow or some crap. I tune out until we’re dismissed. We walk down the stairs to exit at the side doors when Monty calls me over.
“A minute, Amelie.”
I tell Elsie I will catch up with her at lunch.
“What’s up?” I say.
“Could you come to my office after your SELF class please?” he says it as a question but we both know he’s not really asking.
“Sure. But am I in trouble?”
“No. I just want to catch up, things have been so hectic and with having to skip a few Sunday dinners, I feel like we haven’t had a chance to talk.”
I agree to meet with him and run off to SELF.
“Sorry I’m late, miss, Monty...Mr Knox needed to ask me something.”
I take my usual seat next to Kalen, unfortunately for him we are stuck next to each other.
Maggie doesn’t say anything about my being late, just throws me a dirty look. Kalen sees, but says nothing. He isn’t softening at all. The others have relented somewhat, why won’t he? Surely they’ve spoken to him, explained by now? I thought he’d listen to them, even if he won’t listen to me. I sigh and tune back in, Maggie is going on and on about how important grades are, but I couldn’t care less. My grades are good, I’m naturally smart. I know I don’t have
to try too much, but I do work hard nevertheless. I guessed that was why I was put in the second year when I got here; after speaking to Elsie, I knew that my age should have put me in the first year. It’s the only explanation I can think of.
Maggie starts to circulate the class, returning graded papers to the students, she has a kind word of encouragement or congratulations to everyone. When my paper lands heavily on my desk she tuts. I glance down to see red pen scrawled over every inch of my assessment. What the hell? I flick through and see huge chunks of my writing scrawled out with increasingly bitchy comments in the margins. I flip to the end to see my grade and comment: Diabolical. F.
Anger surges through me because I know that my work was better than that. I’ve never got less than a B in my life. I try to keep calm but when Maggie stands at the front of the class and makes a speech about how everyone bar one in the class impressed her, I snap.
“What the hell is this?” I demand.
“Hand, Miss Rossi,” Maggie replies tartly. I shoot my hand up in the air, but she ignores me for a while. When I don’t drop it, she eventually comes back to me. “Yes, Miss Rossi?”
“Soon to be Miss Knox, actually, Miss. Headmaster Knox is keen to welcome me into the family.” I can’t help but jibe her. I want a reaction and I get it. Her face tightens and a vein pulses in her forehead. She throws a panicked look at Kalen. “I want to know why I got this grade.”
“All grades come with an explanatory comment, Miss Rossi.”
“Mine says diabolical.” The class titters. Kalen watches our exchange out of the corner of his eye, pretending of course that he isn’t.
“I’d say that is a sufficient explanation,” she sniffs.
“This is bullshit!” I explode. “My work is not diabolical!”
“Maybe if you spent as much time on your schoolwork as you do on your...shall we say social activities...you’d be doing better in my class.” Everyone laughs.
“Looks like fucking Baxter isn’t so good for you,” Kalen mutters under his breath. “Whore.”
“Baxter?” Maggie asks sharply. “Baxter Branson?” Kalen nods.
“I guess this means, son, that Miss Rossi isn’t going to be my daughter-in-law any time soon then?”
“No, mum. No one likes a second-hand bike,” Kalen sniggers.
“Well, I can’t say I’m upset. I’m glad I didn’t get round to ordering my hat yet.” The class goes wild. “Go to the headmaster, Miss Rossi, your outburst and language will not be tolerated in my class.”
“You know what?” I cry angrily, getting to my feet. “I don’t need to put up with this crap!”
I storm out to uproarious laughter. It’s only when the door slams shut behind me that I let the humiliated tears stream down my face. As I storm down the corridors towards Monty’s office, I fume. The fucking bitch. Fuck her. And fuck Kalen too. I’ve done nothing to deserve what he just did to me.
When I get to the headmaster’s office, I’m a mess. Monty is waiting by the door for me and ushers me straight in. I take a seat, and as much as I really don’t want to, I sob.
“Amelie, what’s happened?” Monty asks, aghast. I don’t answer, I just let everything out: I cry because it’s all just too much. Maggie, her vendetta against me, Kalen’s cruelty and refusal to forgive me, the twins blowing hot and cold. I cry because it really fucking sucks having to pretend that Sawyer is nothing to me and because I’m so hurt by Smalls. “I miss home. I miss my family.”
Monty passes me a tissue and tells me that everything will be okay. It’s only when he starts speaking that I realised I just blurted out the end of what I was just thinking and feeling. Did I just spill my guts about Sawyer? I stare in horror at Monty, but he doesn’t give anything away.
Monty changes the subject, talking about how well I’m doing in school and how happy he is with me. I tell him about Maggie and what just happened in class. He purses his lips – I can see he’s trying to mask his anger – and tells me he will sort it, properly this time.
“Amelie, I’m sure you know that Christmas is fast approaching.” I nod. It’s just over eight weeks away now. Today it’s a painful reminder of everything I’m going to miss out on. How alone I really am. “How do you feel about that?”
“Honestly? I want to go home.”
“Amelie—” Monty begins reproachfully, but I interrupt.
“Not for good. I know I have to do my three years. I accept that now, but, please, sir, I would give anything to have Christmas back home with my family. I promise I’ll come back.”
Monty shakes his head apologetically.
“I’m really sorry, Amelie, I am. But I can’t do that.”
“Don’t give me some BS about kids not being allowed home! I know Elsie is going to her parents’ house!”
“I wasn’t about to lie to you, Amelie. I can’t let you go home for personal reasons, not academic ones...Your mother has talked about this non-stop since you arrived. She’s been planning this for months. It would destroy her if I let you go.”
It’s bullshit. It has to be. Why would Laura give a fuck about having me around for Christmas? We’ve not had family meals for weeks, but she hasn’t reached out to see me. No, there’s something else going on. I just don’t know what it is.
“Listen, Amelie, I might have a...compromise,” Monty begins. I listen. “I will think about flying your family over for Christmas if you can continue to behave yourself.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?” I ask, suspiciously.
“How about we book the flights right now? You’ll be needing four, yes?”
I nod, still not daring to believe.
“Laura won’t like it,” I say.
“You leave your mother to me.”
“And I just have to keep getting good grades?”
“Good grades, yes, and maybe try a little harder with your mother.”
“And you’ll book the tickets?”
“I promise. You can even call your dad and brother to tell them at the next family meal.”
I agree to his terms and he even shakes on it. He dismisses me but tells me not to go back to my SELF class – it’s nearly over anyway – and to head straight to next period. As I wander the corridors, I can’t help but think over what just happened in Monty’s office. I’m sure there’s an ulterior motive – there has to be – but I can’t figure out what it is. I guess there’s no harm in going along with it, for now at least anyway. I’m just going to try not to get my hopes up too much.
Chapter Twenty-Two
One thing I’ve learned this week is that if a Knox is against you, everyone else seems to follow behind like sheep. I don’t know how I haven’t noticed before, maybe it’s because I didn’t care. Now I’m just the idiot with her feelings out there.
After my outburst in Miss Davis’ class I decided to find another SELF teacher. The class isn’t hard; the whole point of the class is to teach us about stupid things like social issues. Surely they would have to take into account that I’m Australian, and cultural differences would affect me differently, which is what I said in my assessment.
From the list of teachers, I picked Mr Boldon, he’s a younger teacher, early thirties maybe.
“Come in,” he says, looking up from his desk when I knock.
“Thank you. I’m sorry to disturb you on a Saturday, Sir. I was wondering if I can have a moment of your time.”
“Sure, please take a seat.” He points to the chair. “What can I help you with?”
“I read in the student handbook that if a student is unhappy with a grade, that they can ask for a second opinion.” His face looks wary. I can imagine it wouldn’t be easy to go against another teacher. But I won’t let this slide. I will outsource a teacher if I have to. I considered going to Sawyer, but Maggie is his mum, and I don’t want to be a completely shitty person. Besides, I’m not sure he could be completely impartial.
“You do understand that we do the second mark anonymously, then y
ou take it to the headmaster.”
“I do, but sir, as a student who has never received a grade lower than a B in my entire schooling, I think an F is a little far from the mark.”
“Okay, email me the original paper. To be fair, I cannot see the marked version.” He scribbles down his email address. I thank him and head back to my room. I have some time to kill before I have to meet Slate and want to change. Since we’re meeting up at five, I can wear something a little comfier, school rules be damned. If Slate wants to meet on a Saturday I will wear what I want.
Walking up to my dorm, I see the paint dripping down my door. Anger boils over the closer I get, and I see the word ‘whore’, or what should say whore. A group of girls walk past and giggle.
“So funny!” I yell. That’s it. Kalen is going to listen to me. I don’t give a shit, this has gone on for far too long now.
I have no idea where he will be, I know he doesn’t have swimming until later. I make my way to the dining hall, hoping he might have called in on his way past for a snack.
The hall is busy with students stopping in for an afternoon snack. I steam roll my way through the room to his usual table. Onyx is sitting at the table with a few other buddies, ones I never bothered to ask about or care what their names are. I think I may have class with one girl at the table, Milly or Mandy. It’s definitely an M name.
“Where is he?” I snap, placing my hands down on the table in front of Onyx.
“You would have to be more specific, it’s hard to keep up with who you’re sniffing around these days.”
“Bollocks,” I say, realising one of the words Kalen taught me has stuck. “Kalen. Where is the damn asshole?”
“Why would we tell you?” the girl adds. Big mistake. I turn to her.
“Keep your mouth shut,” I seethe.
“From what I hear, you should be keeping yours shut. And your legs.”
I move to stand next to her. “Is that so? Are you jealous that you sit here, day in and day out for how long, and not one of the Knox brothers will touch you?”
“I would prefer to look desperate than actually be desperate and fuck Baxter.” I see red, talking is over. Sawyer may have taught me actual self-defence. But Aadi and Smalls taught me to scrap. To get dirty.