Eight Boy (Jeremy Shada)

eighteen

"You can't just say that, Jeremy. I'm not your girlfriend!" I tried sounding as serious and stern as I could for someone who consumed enough alcohol to be somewhat drunk. I sat up and rested my head against the head board of the bed. I was trying to get up to leave but some part of me wanted to stay.

"You can't just do this to me," he said in a hushed tone.

"Do what?"

"You know what you do, you have this sort of charm and I don't know if I can stand it any longer... You look so good tonight." He joined me on the bed and inched himself closer to me, my heart rate picked up and my breathing became shorter and faster.

"Jeremy," I basically squeaked out. I felt my skin heat up from the rate at which the blood was pumping around my body.

"I'd change my ways for you. I could be all yours if you let me," he said slowly kissing my neck.

"I don't know if that's a good idea." I'd been waiting so long for this moment that I couldn't believe it was happening, I also couldn't believe I was drunk for this.

"Here, I'll show you why it is," he whispered into my ear. He pulled me by hips so I was laying down again, this time beneath him. The kisses he was placing on my neck were driving me crazy. "Do you want to do this?" He asked when he placed a kiss just under my ear causing me to push my body against his.

"I want to," I breathed out. He propped himself up using the side of his arm while his other fingers ran up and down my sides. He slowly continued his trail of kisses from my neck to my jawline, getting closer to my lips. His fingers stopped and rested on the button of my shorts.

"Jeremy," I exhaled trying to pull myself out of this lustful state.

"I've dreamed of you moaning my name," he replied in between the kisses he was placing on my skin.

I wanted to feel flattered but the sick feeling I was beginning to feel wouldn't let me. "No, Jeremy, I'm going to vomit."

"What?" He pulled himself off of me and looked at me. "Now, really? Out of all times."

"I'm going to vomit," I repeated once more. He helped me out of bed, guided me out of the room and down the hall and into the bathroom as fast as he could. "Please go get me some water." I sat down next to the toilet with the cool tiling pressed against my back.

"Okay just try not to pass out, I don't want you hitting your head on the toilet bowl and going into a coma," he said half serious, half joking to make me feel better.

"I'll try not to," I half joked back to him, I closed my eyes anyway and rested my head on the tiled wall.

"Have you puked yet?" He asked as he entered the bathroom with a cup of water in his hand.

"Nope, but I feel so sick," I answered before taking the water from him and sipping it.

"We should get you home, you can't stay here the night."

"Why?" I looked up at him curiously.

"Because, Paisley... I don't trust West and all his friends." I could hear the uncomfortable tone in his voice at admitting his protectiveness.

"You like me," I slurred between giggling.

"No! I just, I just need to know you're safe," he spluttered out, obviously shocked at my statement. "I'm calling Derrick and we're going to take you home." He pulled out his phone and was talking to him in just seconds.