Crushed
Page 1
Crushed
Brigid McMahon
Little Black Sheep Publishing
Copyright © 2020 Brigid McMahon
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author/publisher.
To all the boys I've crushed on before and to the one who finally won my heart, my husband!
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Author Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About The Author
Dear Reader
Acknowledgements
Author Note
In no way, shape or form, am I condoning student/teacher relationships or abuse, by writing this book. These individuals prey on young people, taking advantage of their confusion and inexperience. They play with their emotions and in past decades, if caught, the authorities would simply look the other way. The abuser then went on to continue teaching in another part of the country, his or her past covered up for the sake of propriety. But not anymore. If you or anyone else you know is being abused by anyone, especially an authority figure, PLEASE tell someone. This story, while fiction, is unfortunately being played out in many schools and other places around the world. It's not love, it's abuse. End it today.
Chapter One
Trying to decide what to wear to school is right up there with life's most important decisions. Like where to go to college, and which boy to date and lose your virginity to. You would think of the three, the clothes would be the easiest, but for me, it's not. I have zero fashion sense. I'm most comfortable in jeans and a sweatshirt with my hair up in a ponytail and no makeup.
But I'm not allowed that option.
My best friend, Kim Turner, is THE most popular girl at Bridgeview High, where we're both seniors. Kim wouldn't be caught dead with someone who doesn't dress trendy and cool, so it's actually a miracle she lets me hang around.
I have no idea what top should go with what jeans, or skirt, or if I should wear a tank top, or a sweater, or a dress or these shoes and that purse, etc. My closet is full of stuff Kim said I needed to buy at the mall, but I rely heavily on the internet and Teen Vogue to tell me what goes with what.
I stand there in my bra and panties and stare at my closet, baffled. At least my hair and makeup are already done. I've been blessed with very clear skin, and I go for a more natural look with just some bronzer, eye shadow, liner, and mascara. And I wouldn't even do the liner and mascara if Kim didn't insist on it.
"Taryn!" Mom calls up the stairs. "Kim's here, she's on her way up."
Saved by the Kim! Relief floods my soul as my best friend sails into the room. Of course, she looks perfect with her torn jeans and a sea-foam green sweater. The sweater brings out the green in her eyes, and her blond hair is flowing down around her face and shoulders in soft waves.
"What is taking you so long?" Kim puts a hand on her hip and glares at me. "Seriously, can you not decide what to wear again, Taryn? Jesus, you suck!"
She shoves me out of the way and sorts through my closet for a minute.
"Sorry, you know I struggle with this."
While Kim rummages through my clothes, I recheck my makeup in my full-length mirror. Everything looks in place, though I can't help cringing at the faded scar that runs just below my chest to right above my belly button. When I was five, the doctors' discovered, I had some kind of congenital heart defect, and they had to do major surgery to repair things. My heart is fine now, but I was left with this crappy scar, which means no super low cleavage or bikinis for me.
"Here, hurry up!" Kim throws an outfit at me and then searches for just the right shoes.
The girl does have a gift; I really love what she's chosen for me, and I wonder, not for the first time, why I couldn't have figured it out myself. I slide on the whitewashed torn jeans and pull on the white cami, then the pink cropped sweater.
Kim tosses a pair of grey slip-on tennis shoes at me and then starts rummaging in my jewelry box.
"I can't do this every damn morning, Taryn!" She grabs some pieces from the box and hands them to me. "Seriously, you have got to step up your game if you want to continue to be my right-hand bitch."
I smirk and slide on the leather bracelets she's handed me, one in black, one in grey. Then come the pearl earrings. Pearls! Well, shit, I never would have thought to wear pearls with jeans.
"Okay, does this meet with your approval?" I pose saucily for her, and to my dismay, she shakes her head.
“Your fucking hair. Seriously, you were going to do something with it, right?"
"Uh, I thought I had!" I had braided my long brown hair down my back and actually thought it looked really cute.
Kim shoves me into the bathroom and plugs in my curling wand.
"Sit!" She pushes me into the vanity seat and begins applying hairspray and gel while the wand heats up. "So, you and Patrick? What's the latest and greatest?"
Kim starts wrapping strands of my hair around the wand.
"Oh, just the usual." Patrick Winegarten is my current boyfriend. We've been going out since the beginning of senior year. For all of Junior year, I had a major crush on Patrick, who is super cute and built. He plays football and is also on the wrestling team. When he finally asked me out, I thought I'd won the boyfriend lottery.
Patrick is all right, and definitely nice to look at, but that's about all he has to offer. Patrick only likes to talk about one thing, sports. Not that I don't like sports, I'm on the swim team and the tennis team, plus I'm a cheerleader. But there are other things in life besides athletics. It's even starting to feel like a chore to make out with him, though he is a pretty good kisser.
"So, you still haven't done it then?" Kim finishes curling my hair into long tendrils and pulls the sides up, securing them with a band.
"No, I'm not sure Patrick is the one," I tell her, admiring my hair in the mirror. It does look pretty awesome.
"Gawd, you sound like Ryan!"
Kim grabs her purse, and I grab mine and my backpack, and we head downstairs.
"He's still holding out on you, huh?" I grin.
Kim and Ryan have been dating for about six months, but she's always complaining that he won't have sex with her. He is, like me, waiting for the right person to share the first time with.
I'll admit, there is a part of me that wishes Ryan and I could be each other's first time. I think he’s adorable! But I can't do that to Kim, and besides, Ryan is not the type of guy to cheat on someone he's going with. He's a pretty decent dude.
Mom is rushing around, getting ready for work when we come downstairs. She's a realtor and a workaholic. The woman never stays still. She glances up as we pass through the family room on our way out.
"Oh, don't you two look cute!" Mom smiles and gulps down some coffee.
Kim beams back at her. "Thank you, Mrs. Kincaid. You look great too!"
Kim is always unfailingly polite to parents, so
none of them really know what an incredible bitch she can be.
Mom does look nice, as usual. She's pretty, with big blue eyes and a short-layered haircut. She's forty but looks more like twenty-five. It's kind of embarrassing when your own mom is hotter than you are.
"Bye, Mom." I kiss her cheek and pull Kim towards the foyer. My step-father, Ethan, is just coming out of his den as we reach the front door. "That time already, eh?" He grins at both of us with his super white smile.
"Good morning, Mr. Kincaid." Kim flutters her lashes at Ethan coyly, and I yank her to the door.
"Later!" I call over my shoulder, pulling Kim outside.
"Oh my God, your stepdad is so freaking hot!"
Kim slides behind the wheel of her Saab while I climb into the passenger seat.
"Gross." I pull down the visor and slide some gloss over my lips. Patrick likes me to wear flavored gloss, so this morning it's watermelon.
Kim laughs, peeling out of the circle drive, and heading towards school. I guess that Ethan is pretty good looking, but jeez, he's been with my mom since I was eight, so I don't think of him like that at all. He's tall and slim, blue-eyed, very tanned with gray hair and a trim goatee. He and Mom make a striking couple.
Mom met Ethan while working in real estate. He owns his own company that builds huge log cabin homes, like the one we live in. I try not to think too much about how they met and began an affair while Mom was still married to my dad. But my dad was cheating on my mom too, with a guy he worked with.
My dad is an architect, and Steve is his business partner. Steve was always coming over to help Dad with work stuff. I can remember playing with my dolls, and Steve would sit down and play with me. I thought he was fun. Then Dad left Mom for him, and they divorced when I was seven. As soon as the divorce was final, Mom married Ethan.
Kim puts her on her favorite playlist as we cruise to school with the radio blaring. Bridgeview High is a pretty nice school, newly built and nestled into the side of a hill with big huge pine trees for a backdrop. This whole area I live in is the same. Hills and woods and winding roads with an occasional view of the Pacific Ocean.
Kim parks, and we rush into school to find our friends before the bell rings. Every morning is the same. What I like to call the "popular promenade." We meet up with our crowd and our boyfriends and walk the halls till first hour, showing off, ignoring the lesser beings, flirting, and chatting with the privileged. It's pretty lame, and I know it. But this is the game I have to play, the price of being allowed to join the "in" crowd.
Patrick is waiting by my locker, and I force myself to smile at him. He is really good looking, tall, with a solid, muscular build. Brown hair worn down to his collar, brown eyes, and this super sexy profile. Call me weird, but I really like how a guy looks from the side. It's a real turn-on!
Pat is a linebacker with the body to show it. I used to get this awesome rush when I looked at him. Now I just get a little irritated.
"Babe!" He grabs me and plants his mouth on mine, sucking the gloss off my lips.
"Hello, darling!" I open my locker while he scowls at me.
"Don't talk like an old lady! You know that drives me nuts!"
I laugh, pulling my out my English Lit book then slamming my locker door shut. "I know, that's why I do it!"
He tries to look mad but instead grins and grabs me again for another kiss.
God, he's always grabbing me. He's so damn rough, hauling me around like a teddy bear or something.
Ryan walks up, wearing his adorable little sheepish grin. He is so cute! Ryan doesn't have perfect features; his face is kind of angular, and his nose is too big, but he has the most beautiful blue eyes and dark brows and this super sweet smile. It all just melds together into one yummy boy. I know it's kind of wrong, me standing with my boyfriend hanging all over me and lusting after my best friend's boyfriend. But I can't help it. Ryan still makes my heart sing.
"Hey, Taryn, Patrick."
Patrick gives him a nod. "Dude."
"Hi, Ryan."
I smile at him and watch as he slides an arm around Kim's shoulder and kisses her gently on the cheek. I want to sigh, he's so romantic! Patrick never kisses me on the cheek like that. He always goes straight for my mouth with his tongue and teeth.
"Let's walk," Kim orders, and we obediently pair up and start strolling the halls.
Patrick has his heavy arm over my shoulders, and it's making it hard to walk. I wiggle a bit, hoping he'll take his arm away, but it stays firmly in place.
We walk past the band kids, who hang out together by the band room and give them a nod but, for the most part, ignore them. Bandsies are tolerated but really kept at the edge of the crowd. They're too geeky to be popular, but they aren't total losers either. Just somewhere in between.
Our crowd starts falling in behind us, the other cheerleaders and their boyfriends and the girls I play tennis with, potential prom queens and kings. Every time Patrick sees a fellow athlete, he nearly gives me whiplash, reaching over my head and giving out hi-fives and arm punches.
I finally untangle myself and try to fix my now tousled hair.
"God, Patrick! You're messing up my hair!"
He looks down at me dumbly. "Sorry. Jeez, what's the problem? You PMS'ing or something?"
I roll my eyes. "No. I'm not having my period, Patrick. You can't blame my every mood on that!"
Patrick looks relieved when I tell him it's not my time of the month. He slides his hand into the back pocket of my jeans. "You think maybe I can come over tonight?"
I know what he wants. The last time Mom and Ethan went out, I let Patrick come up to my room, and we made out on my bed. I barely got him off of me in time, and he's been pressuring me to go all the way ever since. The last thing I want is to have him back in my house.
Luckily, before I have to answer, a loud commotion comes up the hall towards us. It's Jason Williams and his obnoxious 'cooler than you' friends.
In front of us, I see Ryan tense. He says something to Kim, and she says something back, and he stomps off. Ryan and Jason used to be good friends, but then Kim dumped Jason for Ryan and their friendship fizzled pretty quickly. Now they hate the sight of each other. Kim doesn’t make it any easier by flirting with Jason in front of Ryan. I think she gets some kind of sick kick out of hurting him.
Patrick and Jason are fist-bumping and acting stupid, and then Jason drapes himself over me, nuzzling my neck.
"Hey, Taryn, long time no nuzzle." He bites my neck, and I push him away.
"Get off of me!"
Jason and I once, ages ago, made out when we were both drunk at a party, and ever since then, he likes to attack me in public, whether Patrick is standing there or not. Surprisingly, Jason's lusty attacks don't make Kim mad, she just thinks it's funny. But if I were to ever go after Jason seriously, I'd be toast!
Jason is hot, like extremely, with olive-colored tanned skin, hazel eyes, and dark blond hair that he wears in waves. But he is the biggest asshole I think I've ever met. He and Patrick are best friends, though, which means I'm often forced to spend time in his company.
Jason laughs, and Patrick scowls, pulling me back to his side possessively.
"Dude!" snaps Patrick.
The bell rings, saving me from any more Jason attacks. Kim is making eyes at him, and he smirks at her before they head their separate ways. Patrick gives me another kiss, and then I hurry to my first hour while he goes off to the gym to do whatever it is he does there.
◆◆◆
Before I can walk into English Lit, two of my best friends and fellow cheerleaders meet me at the door and pull me aside.
"Oh my God, Taryn!" Pam Steele is a pretty dark-eyed brunette, and she's bouncing on her heels and clutching at my hands.
"What? What is it?"
My first thought is that someone has died or something, but Pam's eyes are twinkling in a way that makes me realize this is good news, whatever it is.
Linda Songer, another brunette with
deep-set blue eyes who reminds me of Snow White, grabs my arm and pulls my attention away from Pam. "Mrs. Carroll fell and broke her hip!"
"Oh no, that's horrible!"
Mrs. Carroll is my English Lit teacher, and she has hips the size of a Buick. If she was going to break anything falling, it would have to be that.
"And we have a sub for the remainder of the year!" Pam grabs my attention back, but Linda retrieves it.
"He's so totally hot, Taryn!" Linda gushes. "You have no idea!"
I glance at the classroom door. "Is he in there now?"
Pam and Linda both nod and pull me into the room. Trying not to be totally obvious, we walk over to our desks and subtly check out the new teacher.
Hot does not even begin to describe him. Holy shit, he's the most handsome, sexiest looking guy I have seen in my entire life! He's surrounded by girls as we sit down, and we can't take our eyes off of him.
Our new teacher has short, spiky blonde hair, kissed by the sun. His blue eyes twinkle as he laughs with the girls, and he's got an awesome all-over tan like he spends a lot of time on the beach.
He's dressed in grey slacks, and a lighter grey button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and the top two buttons undone. Over the shirt, he has on a grey and black argyle vest. I can't keep my eyes from traveling down his magnificent physique as he calls the room to order, and the gang of girls surrounding him take their seats.
The boys in the room are looking less than thrilled with our handsome new teacher. I peek behind me and see most of them are glowering or looking glum, except for the loser jerks at the back of the room. Manny Ortez is slouching in his seat, making eyes at his slutty girlfriend, Gina Herman. Gross. Manny is my boss at Taco, Taco, Taco, where I work part-time. He's a complete jerk, and Gina Herman looks like a streetwalker on meth.
I turn my gaze back to the beautiful teacher and give him my complete and total attention.
"Hey, everybody. I'm Mr. Hayes, and I'm going to be your teacher for the remainder of the school year due to Mrs. Carroll's unfortunate accident."