Crushed

by Brigid McMahon

  "You're okay now though, right?"

  I'm shocked that he even cares. Venturing a glance back at him I see that his eyes are not mocking or mean at all. He looks concerned.

  "Yeah, it's all fixed now. The doctors said I should be fine as long I stay fit."

  Manny's eyes slide down my bare skin with appreciation. "I'd definitely say you're fit."

  Sheesh! I'm getting realllly warm now!

  "Would you like some lemonade?" I ask, fanning my face. "I was just going to get some. You can take a little break, right? I won't tell." I give him a little smile.

  He hesitates, then smiles back. "Yeah, okay. Lemonade would be nice."

  "Okay, I'll be right back!"

  ◆◆◆

  What just happened? I'm not sure. I just spent over thirty minutes having a pleasant and flirty conversation with Manny over lemonade. He finally said he had to get back to work and I escaped to my room because I was blushing and all a flutter. Now I'm pacing in my bedroom and trying to resist the temptation to peek out my curtains and watch him while he cleans the pool. I don't like Manny! I barely tolerate him, so why do I feel all crushey over him?? Ugh, I really am boy crazy. Manny is NOT boyfriend material. He's rough and he's sarcastic and snarky and ...he has this awesome body with really nice dark eyes and a sexy smile...

  I head for the bathroom for a cold shower before things get even hotter inside my nutty brain.

  ◆◆◆

  My head feels better by the time Ryan comes over later that night. We're lounging downstairs in our basement rec room and he's playing my X-box. I can't play at the moment because it makes me feel slightly nauseous.

  Ryan is so into playing Star Wars Jedi that he is practically ignoring me. Which I guess is okay because I keep staring at my phone, trying to decide between texting Mr. Hayes - Michael, or Manny. Both feel like dangerous choices.

  "OH man!" Ryan throws his controller down. "I suck at this game!" He looks at me, his brow furrowing. "You feeling okay? Want me to get you some Ibuprofen or something?"

  I shake my head and give him a lazy smile. "No, I think I've taken too much. It's making me feel icky."

  Ryan leans closer to me so our heads are touching, giving me his cute smile. "Aww, you poor thing. What can I do to make you feel better?"

  Jesus, he's flirting and I feel like shit, plus I'm thinking of texting two other guys...but right now I just want his mouth on mine. Before I can stop myself, I pull Ryan's face closer and press my mouth to his.

  He kisses me back softly, his hand on the side of my neck, his thumb caressing my cheek. I'm way more into the kiss then he is, I can tell, and it makes me want to cry. We pull apart.

  "What is it? Don't you want to kiss me?"

  Ryan looks down, then back up at me, his eyes serious. "I do want to kiss you. But..."

  I bite my lip and feel anger welling up. "Because of Kim? Is that why? Don't tell me you still like her!"

  He shakes his head and grabs both my hands in his, holding them tight. "No, it's not Kim and I don't like her anymore. Taryn, you have a boyfriend. I can't kiss you and stuff unless you break up with Patrick. It's not right."

  Ugh, Ryan and his morals. But he's right. I need to deal with Patrick once and for all.

  I sigh, gazing down at Ryan's hands over mine. He has such long fingers and I can picture them running through my hair. Leaning my head back on the couch I stare into his sweet eyes. He's all I've ever wanted for so long.

  I raise one of Ryan's hands to my lips and kiss his knuckles. "Okay, I'll dump Patrick. And then we can be together?"

  "Sure." Ryan pulls his hand away and picks up the controller, going back to the game.

  Chapter Six

  On Monday I get up early so I can peruse the internet for help picking out an outfit. Kim texted with suggestions the night before but I didn't even respond to her text. I'm sick to death of her dictating to me what to wear, how to act, what to say. If I'm seriously going to be dating Ryan I'm going to have to grow some pretty big balls. And that starts with picking out my own damn clothes.

  I finally settle on some navy jeans, a cream long sleeved top and my white Adidas. A pearl and gold band bracelet and matching earrings and I'm set. I leave my hair down and add some bronzer, mascara and lip gloss. Good to go!

  I have tennis after school but I'm thinking of ditching it. Today is the day I break up with Patrick. My speech is planned, I'm not backing out, no matter how many times he kisses me or pleads or begs.

  "Keep your eyes on the prize..." I whisper to my reflection in the mirror

  That prize is Ryan and his sweet smile and soft lips.

  I grab my backpack and head out.

  ◆◆◆

  Kim is wearing one of her sexiest outfits, a short pleated mini skirt and low-cut top with high heeled velvet boots. She barely makes the dress code. Next to her I look like a twelve-year boy but I could really care less. I lean against my locker and check my phone while Kim bitches.

  "So, you're just going to dress like a bandsie now, is that it? Where's your clarinet and glasses?"

  I ignore her. Maybe she'll just go away. I haven't seen Ryan or Patrick yet. If he stays home sick today I swear I'll go over to his house and break up with him there, even if he's puking in the bathroom.

  Suddenly Kim grabs my elbow in an iron grip.

  "What the hell!" I glare at her as she shoves me hard against my locker.

  "What is your fucking problem, Taryn?!" Her face is inches from mine and I want to shrink under her blazing eyes. But I can't. If I show weakness now, I will never fully stand up to her.

  I wrench my elbow from her grasp and push her back. "Nothing! Just give me some damn space, Kim, for Christ sake! We don't always have to hang out together you know!"

  Kim stands there, her eyes wide and her mouth slack, but only for a second. She folds her arms over her middle and regards me coldly. "We don't have to hang out at all." She gives me one last withering stare, turns on her heel and leaves.

  "Fuck." I let the breath I was holding slowly hiss out. I might have gone too far. I don't want Kim for an enemy, I've seen what she can do. But maybe it's better to get it over with. With her and with Patrick.

  I look up as Manny and his gang pass by. They're all kind of swaggering as they go, laughing and swearing, making rude comments. I don't know why Manny hangs out with them. Yesterday he was so nice and didn't seem his usual rough self at all. Now today he looks just as mean as he usually does.

  Still, the thought crosses my mind that it wouldn't horrible to be friends with him. Shit, maybe he can protect me from Kim and keep her from kicking my ass

  As he passes, I reach out and touch his arm. "Hey, Manny." I give him a friendly smile.

  Manny and his gang stop in front of me, the guys looking at him and each other, then the smirks come out. Gina is with them and she looks at me with her black rimmed eyes and her mouth curls into a snarl.

  "Oh my God..." She murmurs, nudging Manny.

  I freeze, my smile fading. I try to ignore the others but I want to shrink down to nothing and crawl into my locker. Manny is looking at me so coldly. What happened to yesterday??

  His face slides into a scowl and he puts an arm around Gina, dismissing me with his eyes.

  "Hey."

  That's the only word he says to me as he leads his friends away. They're all cracking up and looking back at me like I'm some kind of freak.

  Which I guess to them, I am.

  ◆◆◆

  I'm so bummed about how Manny treated me that I'm finding it hard to even lust properly after Michael in first hour.

  Manny is an asshole. Plain and simple. I shoot him a glare at the back of the class but he doesn't even look up. He's drawing something in a notebook while Gina watches. That skanky bitch. I hate her.

  "Eyes front, Miss Bishop."

  I turn around and look up as Michael scowls at me from the white board. His reprimand really stings and I blink back tears. Well this day is tota
lly turning to shit. Manny dissing me, Michael being all teacher like.

  I stare back at my teacher petulantly, tapping my pencil rather saucily against my desk. He gazes back at me, a slight smile curling around the corners of his mouth.

  "As I was saying." He raises an eyebrow at me. "Between the years of 1585 and 1592 we know nothing for certain about what Shakespeare was really up to. These were his 'lost years'. So, your assignment is to write me a paper about what you think he was doing. Use your imagination but stay within the bounds of reality please. No papers saying the guy was abducted by aliens or any of that crap."

  The class titters but I refuse to smile when Michael shoots another glance at me. Seriously, who does he think he is?? Sending me a flirty text and kissing me on the fucking forehead?? Maybe I won't write his stupid paper.

  When the bell rings I grab my stuff and start to shuttle past when Michael stops me, taking my arm gently.

  "You okay?"

  I refuse to look at his handsome face. I don't like you. And I don't like how cute you look in those khaki's and plaid button-down shirt and that fawn colored vest. Not at all.

  "I'm fine." I pull my arm away and look at his shoes. Damn, even his shoes are pretty.

  "Taryn, are you upset about the other night? My bringing you home?"

  When I still refuse to look at him, he takes my chin in his hand and raises it up. My eyes slowly rise to his and my breath catches. Oh, his eyes. His beautiful fucking blue eyes. I could drown in them.

  "No..." I finally find my voice and he lowers his hand. "I've just had a bad day so far. That's all."

  He nods, perching on the edge of his desk. "Bad days suck. I certainly know that." He gives me a tired smile. "Okay, I won't keep you, I was just worried when I didn't see your pretty smile. It's the highlight of my day." He gives me a wink and stands up, walking me to the door.

  Holy crap. I'm the highlight of his day! I somehow manage to leave the room and walk dreamily to my next class.

  ◆◆◆

  At the end of the day I find Patrick in the gym, lifting weights. I wasn't able to spend any time with Ryan because he went on a field trip for his botany class. But in a way that’s okay because then Kim doesn’t have another reason to not speak to me today.

  Patrick smiles when I come into the gym and shows off for a bit, flexing his sweaty muscle for me. Actually, he's sweaty all over, his brown hair wet and hanging over his slick red face.

  Patrick is wearing his workout gear, a mesh sleeveless tank and gym shorts. He looks good, aside from the gross sweat. He'll make someone a nice boyfriend. Just not me.

  "Baby, check this out." He comes over to me, flexing his bicep. "Feel that. Rock hard. Iron, baby."

  I don't want to touch his clammy skin but I sort of poke at the muscle. "Awesome!" I smile tightly. "Um, Pat, can we talk?"

  "Sure, babe!" He grabs a towel and leads me out of the gym into the deserted hallway. "But first, a kiss."

  I try to dodge him but grabs me by the chin, harder than Michael did, and plants a big kiss on my lips.

  "So, what's up?" He runs the towel over his damp hair and under his hairy pits.

  I stare up at him. I've never done this before. Guys have sure done it to me, but I've never had to hurt someone like this and suddenly I want to cry. Patrick looks so sweet and boyish right now, his dark brown eyes gazing down at me, a half smile on his lips.

  I take a deep breath. "We have to break up."

  He jolts back, like I've just stabbed him with a knife. "What?"

  I wince, taking his big hands in mine. "I'm sorry. It just isn't working for me. I mean, you're sweet and nice, and we've had a lot of fun -"

  Patrick yanks his hands from mine and backs away a few steps. "What...what are you talking about, Taryn? We love each other! Is this about the stupid YouTube channel? Because if it is, I'll tell Jason we have to take it down. I promise."

  I shake my head and put my hand to the back of my neck, which is aching from tension. "No, it's not the channel, Patrick. It's us. We just don't work. I'm not the girl for you. You want physical stuff and I'm just not ready. I need more than that."

  He huffs a big sigh and thins his lips. I can tell he's getting mad. Really mad. He glares down at me.

  "Well, fuck that!" he shouts, his voice reverberating off the cinder block walls. "Fuck that, and fuck you!"

  "Pat..." I reach out to touch him but he moves further away.

  "No! Don't fucking touch me! You know, I coulda gone out with anyone, I coulda had any girl but I picked you! What a dumb ass I am! I thought you were the perfect girl. Perfect girl who won't even put out! You suck!"

  I stand there silently, letting him spew his fury.

  "Your loss, bitch!" He looks at me like he wants to slam my head into the wall.

  "Yep, I'm sure you're right." I turn away and suddenly I'm grabbed from behind and find myself pinned against the wall by Patrick's massive frame.

  "Let me go!" I try to scream but he has his hand around my throat, his furious face against mine.

  "You're a fucking tease, Taryn!" He pushes himself hard against me and I can't believe the asshole even has a hard on. I never thought he'd do this, get this rough with me. I need to get my knee between his legs somehow but he's so much bigger and stronger than I am, I can barely move.

  "Please..." I start to cry and he smashes his mouth against mine as I claw at his face and arms.

  "Let her go!"

  The shout stops Patrick and suddenly Michael is there and so is the wrestling coach, Mr. Keene. Keene grabs Patrick and pushes him against the wall, hard.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing, Winegarten?!"

  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Patrick starts to cry and Keene shuffles him away, back into the gym

  I stand there against the wall, hugging myself and I can't look at Michael who is watching me silently.

  Finally, he says my name. "Taryn..."

  That does it. I start bawling and slowly sink to the floor. Worst. Day. Ever.

  Michael lifts me up and envelopes me in his arms. I cry against his chest and he strokes my back in a very un-teacher like way. I feel him sigh, his breath blowing out on my hair.

  "Come on. Let's go."

  I let him lead me away.

  Chapter Seven

  "Here, drink this."

  Michael hands me a steaming mug of something and I take a sip. It's an herbal tea, I think chamomile. I hold it tightly in my hands, my knees drawn up to my chest.

  He took me to his house, which totally floored me. Well not a house really, it's a condo and it's really nice, what little I've seen of it. I'm kind of surprised a teacher can afford such a nice place but it fits right in with his "style". It's pretty and perfect. Just like him.

  Michael sits beside me and rests his arm on the back of the couch. He has that same black braided bracelet on his wrist and I concentrate on the wispy blond hairs on his tanned, toned forearm.

  "Think you can talk about it now?" He's looking at me so kindly it makes me want to cry again, but I'm so humiliated by all the bawling I've already done.

  I nod and take another sip of tea. "I guess."

  "Has Patrick done that before? Has he hurt you?"

  "No. He was just mad."

  Michael sighs and thins his lips. "It doesn't matter if he was mad or not, Taryn. He should never have put his hands on you like that. I hope Keene kicks his ass off the team. Do you wanna call your mom or dad?"

  I give him a tiny smile. "No, my mom's not home and my dad is in London right now."

  He puts his hand to his mouth and rubs his chin. "Well I wish I could do something, to help you. I just don't know what though.

  Kiss me? The thought makes me giggle and he smiles back at me quizzically.

  "And why is that funny?"

  "It's not." I admit. I slide my legs down and tuck them under me, cross legged. "Thanks for the tea, Mr. Hayes."

  His phone buzzes and he glances at it, frowns, and then puts it
back in his pocket.

  "Hey, when we're not in school you can call me Michael, okay?

  I set the tea on a coaster on the coffee table and settle back, looking at him coyly.

  "Good, and you can call me Taryn instead of Miss Bishop, like you did today."

  Michael grins at me and I want to run my tongue over his straight white teeth. Holy crap, I almost wish I was drunk so I was brave enough to just jump his bones right then and there.

  "Got a little tetchy with me today didn't you?"

  I snort a laugh. "'Tetchy'? Who says 'tetchy'?"

  "Us old guys." He taps my knee with his finger. "So, I want you to know you can talk to me, okay? I know I'm not your mom or your dad, or even your older brother, but I have been known to be a good listener. Occasionally I even offer good advice."

  I know he means well but I honestly have no desire to spill my guts about my complicated love and social life right now. Especially to my hunky teacher. I try to think of another subject to discuss because I don't want him to suddenly say I need to go home.

  "Tell me more about Shakespeare."

  Michael settles back on the couch himself, bringing a knee up. Our kneecaps are touching and I feel tingles in all the right places. Does he know how turned on he makes me? I can't tell.

  "You should be telling me about Shakespeare," he chuckles. His phone goes again and he swears softly, his brow furrowing into a frown. Again, he ignores the call, setting the phone on the floor beside him. I wonder who keeps calling him. "I should be quizzing you, seeing how much attention you actually paid in class."

  I playfully shoot my foot out, nudging his leg. Then I just leave it there, my foot now resting against his calf. He doesn't move away.

  "I do pay attention!" I snap at him but I'm grinning. "Tell me something you haven't taught us yet. Like about Anne Hathaway."

  "Ah...Anne Hathaway." Michael narrows his eyes at me. "What exactly did you want to know?"

  "You know. She was like twelve when she married him, wasn't she?"

  "And pregnant." He smirks at me.

  Shit, there's so much sexual tension between us. I think anyway. I mean, I'm not quite sure how sexy he is actually feeling but I'm about to melt into a puddle right there on his couch.