When Our Worlds Collide (Our Worlds #1)(59)

That’s what I should have done. That’s what I wanted to do, but because I’m me I bit back the urge. Instead I threw it back in Graham’s face by blatantly flirting with Craig in front of him. It was childish. I just never thought that it would cause such harm.

Clearly, I was wrong.

Using Craig to get back at Graham was the wrong thing to do in the beginning. I knew that now. I liked the way Graham’s face twisted with rage when I winked at Craig after the game or ran my hand down his chest showing him a hint of attention. It was unlikely behavior for me. I felt comfortable being like that with Graham, but with anyone else it felt too foreign, too forced.

Right after that girl, who shall not be named from this point on except by her true name “Skank”, admitted to a crowd of people her and Graham’s dirty little secret I turned the flirting on overdrive. The plan was flawed from the beginning.

Being bitter and infuriated, just plain old frustrated is what got me in this mess. A handful of shots that could take down a stocky teenage boy, a six pack of beer and nearly three watermelon Jell-O shots is why I’m staring up at a blank white ceiling with a fan slowly circling around overhead hypnotizing me into a trance. I’m just staring at this fan attempting at my best to forget the way I feel right now.

This is how most high school girls get over heartache, right? Violet said it best freshman year, to get over someone you have to get under someone else. I know, I know. She’s super “philosophical” and all that, but at the time it sort of made sense. That theory doesn’t really work for me though because I’ve never been underneath anyone in the biblical sense at least. Oh well.

I’m lying here listening to the wind break through the window from the lake with the sound of heavy panting from Craig who is now attempting to mount me. I begin to realize that Violet was wrong. Oh boy was she wrong and it didn’t take me more than a few minutes of making out with a horny teenage boy to come to that conclusion.

“Craig, you need to slow down,” I demand pushing on his right shoulder to try to coax his heavy body from on top of me. His hand is up my top trying to unhook my bra unsuccessfully. Thankfully he listens, sitting up next to me.

“What’s wrong?” he pants out in between breaths annoyed by my persistence to halt him stealing my virtue.

I’m drunk, like the kind of drunk where your limbs feel like noodles or you don’t realize how drunk you are until you sit down to go to the bathroom and the room begins to spin around you. Although the alcohol is altering and slowing down my responses I’m smart enough to know that this was not how it was supposed to happen for me. In a perfect world I would have been stealing moments away with Graham tonight. Our story took a turn down a dark road and finding my way back seems impossible now. It was too black to navigate.

I swing my legs around until my feet hit the ground. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just…” I try to explain before Craig interrupts me.

“I thought you were into it. I know you want me, Kennedy. Quit fighting it. Haven’t you been fighting back for long enough?” It sounds like a question, but it’s more of a statement. He isn’t taking no for an answer. To him all of the flirting, harmless touching meant something different. Boys like him have expectations. Craig brushes my hair over to one side kissing the back of my neck making his way back up to my lips turning my head slightly to face him. A slight panic rose up in my chest. I don’t think that Craig would hurt me, but I’ve always had a good intuition about guys and people in general. Something’s definitely off with him tonight.

I make an attempt to stand up. Having a broken leg didn’t play in my favor. Before I can utter another word in protest Craig pulls my arm hard until I fall back onto the bed. There’s a look in his eye, a primal and merciless stare that makes my stomach jump into my throat the second we lock eyes. He pins me beneath him holding both of my wrists down with his full strength above my head. A sharp pain shoots through them as I try to fight to release his hold. I can smell the alcohol as he breathes down on my neck. I fight back the bile that’s begging to rise up in my throat.

“Don’t fight it. If it was Graham on you right now, you’d have those pretty little legs spread wide open for him,” Craig whispers in my ear with an anger that makes my heart race in fear. It’s the type of tone a girl wishes she never has to hear while being overpowered by someone. What does Graham have to do with this? How does he even know about Graham?

Craig must see the confusion in my eyes. “Oh you’re probably wondering how I know about you and Graham. It was a wild guess that you just confirmed. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other when you think no one can see. Everyone looks at him like he is some saint and he isn’t. None of us are,” he barks in my ear with pure disdain.

This is the moment that it’s going to happen. Every girl’s worst nightmare is unfolding in front of my eyes and I can’t do anything. I go to open my mouth to shout, but nothing comes out. I can hear myself crying out for help. It’s lost somewhere, dangling in the air not being able to find its release. It’s then that I realize Craig’s hand is trapping my cry for help from escaping. I’m alone.

Craig trails kisses along my neck while the hand that isn’t covering my mouth explores the length of my body. I push against his chest with everything I have. No matter how much I push and scratch my strength’s no match for his. He has broad shoulders and strong arms that are stopping me from gaining the leverage I need to escape this hell. It’s hopeless. I’m feeling hopeless.