Twisted Christmas

by Sara Cate

  His smile disappears, a deep frown taking over as anger bleeds from his crinkled eyes. “You’re a fucking bitch, Stray.”

  “And you’re a fucking asshole who will never know what color my panties are.” I twist around to the front and spend the remainder of class trying to get my breathing under control.

  “Hey, Cat! Wait up!”

  I squeeze my eyes closed at the sound of Melissa’s high-pitched voice.

  “Hey, I didn’t see you in lunch today.”

  “Yeah, I skipped. I had something to do at the library.” A lie. I spent my lunch hour hiding in the bathroom because that was the only way I wouldn’t have to pass Physics.

  “No problem. I wanted to invite you to a party Friday night. I know it’s your birthday and thought it’d be fun.”

  I stall in my step. “How did you know it was my birthday?”

  “We did use to be friends, you know. It is your birthday, right?”

  It’s strange to have somebody remember something about me. “Yeah, it is.”

  “Perfect! Don’t say no, okay? It’ll be a great time. There’s an abandoned barn down route forty-seven. We build fires, and someone always gets their older brother or sister to buy alcohol. A ton of people always show up. It’ll be fun. Promise.”

  The last thing I need to do is drink. It was always my go-to to get my parents’ attention—or a boy’s attention. Acting out was one thing. Adding booze to the mix never ended up good for me.

  “I don’t know. That’s not really my thing anymore.”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t have to drink. It’s your birthday. You shouldn’t be alone on your birthday.”

  I’ve been alone my whole life.

  The argument I had with my mom this morning pop into my mind.

  “I’m sick of this shit you keep pulling for attention. I want you home right after school, and you will be here for dinner.”

  “Why does it even matter?”

  “To me, it doesn’t, but it does to William. You’ve avoided meeting his son, and it’s rude. I expect this out of you, but he shouldn’t. Neither of them should.”

  “They aren’t my family—”

  “You’re headed in the direction of being no one’s family if you keep this up. Straight home.”

  The words to tell her I can’t are almost out of my mouth. You’re headed in the direction of being no one’s family if you keep this up. “Yeah, I’m in.”

  Melissa’s face lights up, and she jumps up and down. “Awesome! Great! I’ll pick you up.”

  “Yeah, actually, I have detention, so can you just pick me up here after that?”

  “Totes! See you then.”

  It’s almost off my tongue to ask her if I can crash at her place for a few days, knowing I’ll probably be out of a house once I blow off this dinner tonight. But fuck her. Fuck her husband. Fuck her stupid dweeby stepson.

  Friday

  Samuel

  She’s late. I swear if she doesn’t show, she’s getting detention for the rest of the month. My eyes search out the clock one last time before the door opens and she strolls in.

  My irritation spikes when I see what she’s wearing. Gone are the ripped jeans and black top she wore to class this morning. Instead, she has on a bright purple turtleneck and mini skirt. My eyes work up her long legs as I internally tsk at how short her skirt is. My cock twitches when my eyes skim past her breasts to her colored lips and smoky eyes.

  Clearing my throat, I snap, “You’re late.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I had to change really quick.” That’s all she gives me before sitting in a chair. She keeps her head down and pulls out her homework, not giving me an ounce of attention. She’s been like this all week and my patience is starting to slip. The entire hour goes by without a glance, and my irritation worsens. She can’t look at me like she did the first day and ignore me now. There’s something there. A spark. I felt it. I know she did too.

  Today is her birthday. Today it would be okay to push her.

  The hour expires, and I stand, waiting for her to acknowledge me. As the rest of the delinquents gather their things and race out, I call out to her.

  “Miss Mitchell, may I have a word?” I ask, forcing her to stay back. Her eyes follow the final student as they walk out, leaving us alone.

  “Yes?” she asks, slowly walking up to my desk.

  Rounding my desk, I step into her personal space. I can’t help it. But it gives me great pleasure to watch her shiver. Her response tells me what I need to know. She wants this just as much as I do. I take a step closer. “May I ask what the special occasion is?”

  Her luminous eyes blaze with confusion. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Mr. Gibson.” Her voice is hesitant. I can almost feel the pounding of her heart as she inhales and exhales.

  “And as I told you, Cat, I’ve taken a liking to you. So, whether you like it or not, I’m making it my business to know yours. I want what’s best for you. Whatever that may be.” For you to be naked in my bed. Submitting to me. Allowing me to own every succulent piece of your young, obedient flesh.

  I take another step closer, the brush of her breasts tickling my chest. Her quick intake of breath ignites my cock.

  “You’re beautiful when you’re nervous, do you know that?” Her body begins to tremble. Oh, the fun I’ll have with her. She sucks in her plump lower lip, and I love the way her cheeks begin to flush. I fight to keep my hands at my sides when all I want to do is brush my thumb against the wetness of her lips.

  “I—I don’t think that’s appropriate, Mr. Gibson,” she says, her voice shaking. Her eyes are dilating. God, she’s insatiable. I wonder what she would do if we weren’t in the classroom—what she would do knowing we are.

  “Do you want me to take it back?”

  She licks her lips. Her mouth opens to answer me, and I’m tempted to shove my tongue down her throat. God, I want to kiss her.

  “Um…I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

  I lean forward and dip my head, testing my boundaries, when the sound of a book slamming against the hallway outside the classroom breaks our connection.

  Her head shoots toward the door. Knowing the moment is lost, I take a step back, noting the second she shuts down. “I’m sorry. I need to go.” Pushing past me, she exits the room.

  My smile drops. Irritation floods my veins. I almost had her. I had been well on my way to my first taste. The next time I find myself alone with her, I will get it.

  Chapter 6

  Catalina

  I jump in the first car I see, praying it’s Melissa’s. When I see her bubbly smile behind the wheel, I sigh in relief.

  “Hey! You’re in a hurry to get out of there.”

  You have no idea.

  “Yeah. School sucks.” Not to mention, my teacher just came on to me. His hungry eyes were anything but innocent. They demanded something from me. He didn’t outright touch me, but he made his intentions clear with the way his gaze penetrated me.

  “Totally. I can’t wait to graduate. I hear college is so much better. We get to choose our own schedules. Show up when we want to. I mean, not living with my parents is enough reason to go for me.”

  I’m barely even listening to her. I can’t stop replaying what just happened in there. Mr. Gibson was…was…I can’t even say it in my mind. I start to shake. Calm down, Cat.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Not at all. I’m pretty sure if something or someone hadn’t interrupted us, Mr. Gibson would have—he would have made a very unwelcomed pass at me. “Yeah, fine.” I stare out the window so she doesn’t sense the alarm in my shaky gaze. What the hell was he thinking? He’s a teacher. I should have spoken up. Told him no. My silence will only encourage his actions. And next time, there might not be a distraction to save me.

  “God, what have I done?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. “Um…with college. I don’t know what I’ve
done so far. So much to do still.” I cover my own hysteria with more lies. My body still vibrates with what could have happened. If he had attempted a move on me, would I have panicked and let him? Fought for myself?

  I can’t deny that I ache so badly for someone to touch me the way I ached for Kenneth. Make me feel, even for a moment. But not like this. Not with someone who isn’t always on my mind—which betrays me once again when I think about Asshole. The way he spoke to me earlier. His threat of undressing me. Doing hateful things to my body. My thighs clench. I would never let him lay a finger on me. Then why does my body crave him? It doesn’t. This is just me being desperate. Confused. Lonely. I would probably let a homeless person fuck me just to feel somewhat alive.

  Melissa cuts into my thoughts. “Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out. There’s always community college if you’re not ready. I know a lot of people are going there first.”

  I nod, not caring about college. I don’t care about anything but ridding myself of all these wrong feelings. “Let’s just drop it. Tonight, we’re gonna have fun. First drinks are on me.” I wink.

  She turns, offering her boisterous smile. “What about not drinking?”

  “Change of plans.” I’m drinking until my mind goes numb and I forget just how fucked up my life has become.

  The party is in full swing. It turns out, you can do a lot with an abandoned barn. Multiple bonfires supply enough heat to keep from freezing to death, not to mention the alcohol. Crowds fill the open space, and music plays from large speakers off to the side. Melissa and I are dancing to some pop song, and I’m actually enjoying myself—something I haven’t done in a very long time. When the song ends, I tell Melissa I’ll be right back. It’s my turn to trench into the snow to refill our beers.

  “Don’t freeze out there. Make sure to follow the path into the woods. That’s where the keg is hidden.”

  “Got it.” I raise my index finger into the air, twirling it around, and turn to head outside with a skip in my step. Tripping over my own foot, I almost barrel into the snow and thankfully catch myself. “Jesus, Cat.” I laugh to no one and walk out into the darkness, following the snow-compacted trail.

  “Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s off to the keg I go.” I chuckle at my song and stumble again, this time falling forward. My hands reach out, and I smash into the frozen ground. “Ouch,” I hiss when my wrist bends the wrong way. I cradle it with my other hand and get to my feet.

  I walk the remainder of the path until I hit the woods. When I find the keg, I grab the two red Solo cups stuffed in my coat pocket and cuss when I realize one cracked when I fell. “Shit.” I look around, hoping there are spares—

  “Look who it is, the little stray.”

  I turn to his voice, but it’s too dark. “What, are you following me? Don’t know how to take no for an answer?” The asshole appears out of the shadows, and I suck in a staggered breath. I’m embarrassed at how fast desire blooms in my belly. I bite the inside of my cheek and am thankful for the cold temperature that masks the real reason a shiver runs through me. His hair is wilder than normal, and despite the frigid temperature, he’s only wearing his leather jacket over a black shirt and ripped jeans. “You’re gonna freeze out here. Maybe you should be a smart little boy and turn back.”

  He walks closer, and my heart rate picks up. Frost smoke from the chilled air pours from his parted mouth, and my gaze falls to his intoxicating lips. I should move with every step he takes, but I fight to stand my ground. I won’t back down to him, no matter how much I secretly want him to touch me.

  “Maybe I’ll just steal your jacket,” he hums. “You look flushed. Seems like you can take off a layer or two.”

  My thighs vibrate, and this time I do step back, my shallow breaths exposing my unraveling composure. “Yeah, right. I would let you freeze before helping you.”

  Another step. One more back.

  “Would you now?” The space between us keeps disappearing. The closer he gets, the harder it is to breathe. Why does he have to be so attractive—so mysterious in that bad boy way—and a huge asshole?

  “Please don’t make me prove it. I’d love nothing more than to watch you freeze to death at my feet.” God, the lie pours off my tongue, and I struggle to swallow. “Seriously, beat it.” He still doesn’t stop, and my back hits the trunk of a tree.

  “Explain one thing to me, Stray.” He finally stops when the toe of his boots hits mine. “What is it about you that has everyone so up in arms?”

  “What do you mean?” I hate that my voice sounds weak.

  “The new girl. Or should I say the return of the mystery girl? The one who left in the middle of the night to return years later with no real story. What did you do that made you have to leave? And why are you really back?” He reaches out, and I flinch slightly when his hand moves past me to press against the tree.

  “Yeah, not sure what you’re talking about, but also none of your business. This is kind of pathetic, stalking me out here just to hear my life story. Desperate much?” I almost choke on the remainder of that sentence when he leans in. He’s too close. My stomach bottoms out as he invades my space, his lips mere inches from mine, his breath heating my chilled skin.

  “Oh, I’m not the desperate one. I see the way you look at me.”

  “With hatred?”

  “Yeah, maybe, but there’s more.” He dips lower, and I fight to keep my eyes open. “There’s this little tick. Almost like…you’re hungry. Whenever you look at me, it appears. Is it want?”

  “Oh, please—”

  “Need?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Lust?”

  Why is he doing this? “You’re high if you think that’s how I look at you.”

  His low, menacing laugh ticks me off. I try to push away, but he only traps me further, lifting his other hand to the bark. His body brushes against mine, and I lose all thought of right and wrong. “I think you want me to touch you. You crave the unknown. The anticipation of how I would feel inside you. Tasting you, licking you…” He leans in more. “Fucking you.”

  I almost lose my footing. He’s right. Those sinful thoughts are exactly what haunts me. What he would do to me if I allowed him to have me. Taste me. Destroy me.

  He catches me, securing his large hand around my waist and pulling me into him. The words won’t come out. The lies, the denial. My throat locks up. I can’t even fight it. I do want this.

  “You’re shivering. What would you do if I skimmed lower? Are you quivering down there too?” I hate that he’s breaking me down. Exposing my true desires. “What if I took my hand and slipped it under this tight little skirt? How wet would you be?”

  “Fuck you,” I whisper, need dripping from my words. His chuckle ignites even more lust inside me, and I tremble. He’s won. He knows it. I know it. My body is wound so tight, a simple flick of his finger and I’ll combust.

  He follows through with his taunts, sliding his hand from my ribcage, over my skirt. My head falls helplessly against the tree, and a moan shamelessly unleashes as his hand skims up my thigh to the inside of my skirt. He pushes my panties aside. “Thong girl. Just as I suspected.” I’m about to fight back when he spreads me open like a flower and slides a finger inside me. Stars dance in my eyes, and I threaten to collapse. “Absolutely drenched.” He slowly pulls out and inserts another one. “How long have you been thinking about this, Stray?” Another finger.

  I feel so full, my legs begin to shake. He takes his time, pulling out and sliding back in, over and over, until my legs begin to buckle. I reach out and grab at his shoulders to stay upright, and he kicks my legs open wide with his knee, his hand finding a more aggressive pace. My lips part, but I can barely breathe. He’s so close, I silently beg for him to kiss me, but he doesn’t. His eyes never leave mine. They remain cold while every part of my body burns. Without shame, I lean forward, needing to taste him, have his lips on mine, but he pulls away. His handwork becomes rough. He moves in and out, hitting the
deepest part of me. My body begins to convulse around his hand. My sex clenches tightly as I fall apart. My orgasm takes me over the edge, and I dig my nails into his shoulders as I ride it out. He doesn’t remove his fingers until I stop trembling. And when he does, he unzips my jacket, pushes up my turtleneck, and draws a letter onto my chest with his wet fingers.

  “There. Next time you try to seduce Mr. Gibson, he’ll see what a little whore you are. Taking advantage of older men is frowned upon, but I hear you already know that.”

  He quickly pulls away from me, but I don’t move. I can’t. The shock from his words, his accusations, paralyze me. Did he see us? Was that him earlier today? I don’t get a chance to explain myself because he already has his back to me, disappearing from where he came.

  The chill of the frigid winter air snaps me back to reality. The dread of what I allowed settles in. Did anyone just see us? I cover my face, regret flooding my system. What did I just do? You let the asshole finger fuck you in the woods and loved every second of it. But he did it to shame me. He was completely distant while he got me off, like it was a chore or something he routinely did. He refused to kiss me. “Oh, God.” I cover my face again, then hurry to adjust my skirt and jacket, remembering what he drew on my chest. Anger blows through me at his disgusting, vile attempt at humiliating me. I wipe at my chest and zip up my coat. My legs are still weak, but I push forward, making my way back to the party. Melissa is outside waiting for me, worry evident in her gaze.

  “There you are. You had me worried. I almost went looking for you. Where’s the beer—are you okay?”

  Far from it.

  “No. Beer is not going to cut it. I need a stronger drink. Stat.”

  Chapter 7

  Catalina

  Everything is spinning. I wake with a start, throw my head over my bed, and dry heave. Why do I feel like death?