Arriving at school an hour early, as I usually do, I enjoy the quiet of the library before the chaos starts. However, the football and cheer teams are already there. With Sean as the football captain and Melissa leading the cheer squad, they’ve made early practices a routine.
I head toward the library but am abruptly shoved into a classroom. I hit the floor hard as the door slams shut behind me. I look up to see Dylan Lenski standing over me, his expression cold and intimidating.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, struggling to keep my voice steady.
"What are you doing here, Lily?" His use of my old nickname sends a shiver down my spine.
I scramble to my feet, but he shoves me again, forcing me into a chair. His strength is overwhelming.
"Dylan—" I start to protest, but my voice falters as I see him unzip his pants.
"What are you—" I try to say, but he grabs my chin, cutting me off.
"Shhh, Lily. You turn me on."
---
**Sean’s POV**
She arrives early again. As Lyllea walks toward the classroom, Mel shoots me a look that makes my face flush, even though I hate it. I watch her with admiration—she’s dressed in a green plaid skirt and a dark green sweater, her hair tucked neatly behind her ear. She’s breathtaking.
"Everyone take five," I command.
"Mid-practice?" one of the guys complains. I shoot him a sharp glare.
My friends have been giving me advice on how to catch Lyllea’s attention. They suggested early morning practices. I’m not following their advice, but I am heading to the library to stir up some trouble for Lyllea—my own style.
As I climb the stairs to the second floor, I spot Dylan Lenski hanging around outside our classroom. What’s he doing here? He’s not even in our class. He enters and shuts the door behind him. My curiosity piques, and I decide to investigate.
As I approach, I hear muffled voices. My heart races as I recognize Lyllea’s voice.
"Please, no," she pleads.
"Stay still, you fucking slut" followed by the sound of a slap.
Is this really happening?
I knock on the door, ready to confront Dylan, but after a minute, Lyllea opens it. Her eyes are red and puffy, as if she’s been crying.
"Where is he?" I demand, my voice taut with anger.
"Where’s who?" She tries to act clueless, but her trembling voice gives her away.
Why is she covering for him?
"Why did you lock the door?" I press.
"Oh—I—I was adjusting my... clothes," she stammers, forcing a shaky laugh.
I scan the room, searching for Dylan, but he’s nowhere in sight. My doubts intensify. Lyllea’s anxious behavior and red eyes suggest something serious happened. Normally, I’d push harder, but seeing her like this makes me hesitate.
I glance at Lyllea one last time. Her gaze is pleading, almost desperate. I usually wouldn’t let it slide, but today feels different. I walk out of the classroom without another word, not acknowledging her worried stare.
As I head to the field, I see Dylan emerge from the building where our classroom is located. His building is on the opposite side of campus. My suspicions are confirmed.
Dylan Lenski has always been a thorn in my side, but today he’s crossed a line that ignites something darker within me. I can’t stand seeing him act like he owns the place, especially when it involves someone like Lyllea.
Dylan’s arrogance has always grated on me, but what happened this morning makes me seethe. He’s barging into places he has no right to be, targeting Lyllea with his predatory behavior. I see her fear, and it sparks a rage I can barely control. How dare he think he can just push her around, treat her like some disposable object?
I’m furious as I watch him from the doorway, and it takes all my willpower not to storm in and confront him. Dylan doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her, let alone lay a hand on her. My mind races with thoughts of how I should handle this—how I should make him pay for what he’s done.
When I knocked on the door and Lyllea opened it, her red eyes told me everything. I was tempted to charge in, drag Dylan out, and make him regret ever thinking he could mess with her. But I saw her standing there, trying to cover up what’s happened, and it only fueled my anger more. It’s like she was protecting him, hiding the truth, and it’s infuriating. Why was she covering for him?
I watch Dylan slip out, a smug expression on his face that makes my blood boil. I want to tear him apart for what he’s done, for how he’s made her feel. I’m wrestling with this intense urge to make him suffer, to show him that he can’t just get away with mistreating someone like Lyllea.
The more I think about it, the more my anger consumes me. Dylan’s behavior is a personal affront, not just to Lyllea but to me. I feel a possessive rage that I don’t fully understand, but it drives me to act. The thought of him getting away with his actions—of him continuing to be a threat to her—makes my fists clench and my jaw tighten.
LYLLEA'S POV
After Dylan finally leaves, I’m left in the classroom, my body shaking uncontrollably. My heart races so fast it feels like it’s about to explode. Every breath is a struggle, coming in sharp, shallow gasps. The fear from his attack lingers, making it hard to focus on anything but the echoes of what just happened.
The memory of his hand on my chin, his hot breath against my ear, and the sound of his zipper make me shudder. I feel a wave of nausea rise in my throat as I replay each moment in my mind. I want to scream, but my voice is stuck, trapped by a mix of shame and fear.
The classroom seems to close in on me, the walls pressing tighter with every second. I feel like everyone outside must know what happened, though I know they can’t. I’m overwhelmed by a crushing sense of vulnerability and exposure. The anxiety feels like a vise around my chest, squeezing tighter with each breath.
When Sean knocked and entered, my panic spiked His presence only heightened my anxiety. I tried to calm myself, but the sight of him only made my heart race faster. I wanted to tell him everything, to beg for help, but my voice wouldn't come. I was terrified of his judgment, of what he might think of me.
When he questioned me, I struggle to hold back tears. I managed a weak excuse about fixing my clothes, my voice cracking as I spoke. I couldn't bring myself to reveal the truth, the thought of reliving the moment out loud is too painful. I saw the skepticism in Sean’s eyes, and it only deepened my sense of shame.
When Sean finally left I felt a strange mix of relief and guilt. He knew something was wrong, but I couldn't bring myself to share the details.
The silence in the room feels oppressive, amplifying my sense of isolation. Every small noise seems magnified, adding to the chaos in my mind.
The minutes crawl by as I try to regain some semblance of composure. My body still trembles, my thoughts spinning in a whirlpool of anxiety and fear. I want to disappear, to escape this nightmare, but I know I have to face the rest of the day.
When the bell rings, I gather what little strength I have left. My legs feel heavy and unsteady as I move toward my next class. Inside, I’m a mess, but I try to project an air of calm. Every step feels like a struggle, and I can only hope that somehow, I’ll find a way to feel safe again.
The rest of the day stretches out before me, a series of moments I have to get through. For now, I focus on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to navigate the day despite the crushing weight of fear and humiliation that clings to me.
YOU ARE READING
Lies Beneath the Cherry Tree
Teen Fiction"Some secrets are meant to stay buried, but some-like love-refuse to die." Lyllea Finley never imagined that moving into a new home would thrust her into a world of danger, desire, and deadly secrets. But when she meets Nathan Parker, the brooding b...
