BTS: I Think I Love You

Chapter 4

I walk alone in the halls as I wait for the bell to ring, indicating that lunch is over. Tom finished earlier than he usually does. He said something about giving someone a warm welcome. Not sure what that meant, but I was not about to ask him about what he was talking about.

I still can't get over the fact that Suga saw us. Not like I care what he thinks of me, seeing as everyone learns to hate me for one thing or another. I'm just upset that he will no doubt tell his friends and they will take advantage of the fact that we sit alone in the way back of the classroom.

Tom sure takes advantage of that. The one class we have together is science. We sit at a table in the far right corner of the classroom. When he feels extra horny, he will have me give him a blowjob in the middle of class. No one has caught us yet. The booths we sit in have a sink attached to the top, meaning that it goes all the way to the ground. No one can see anything from our chests down.

The bell rings, the shrill sound piercing my eardrums. God I hate the bell. It is unnecessarily loud and gives me a killer headache. I pick up my pace and make it to the science classroom before everyone else shows up. I place my things in the table, putting my pencil right next to my green and purple subject notebook. I rest my head in the palm of my hand and gaze blankly at the wall.

As everyone makes their way to the class, the room starts to get louder. I watch from my seat as girls gossip about boys they like and the guys mess around with each other. It must be nice having friends. To have someone there to make you feel happy, even when your life is complete shit. I wouldn't know the feeling. Who would wanna be friends with someone like me?

The seven new guys walk in and my eyes immediately lock with the guy who introduced himself as V. His expression goes from happy and carefree to disappointed and disgusted. So I was correct. Suga did tell them about what he saw.

He quickly looks away before getting Suga's attention and whispering something in his ear. I know he is asking about me because Suga glances over at where I am sitting before looking away and nodding his head to whatever he was asked. Oh well. They were bound to find out sooner or later.

My gaze moves from the boys, who are all staring at me at this point, to the door of the classroom that just opened. Tom walks in with his head high and his chest out, like he owns the place. He strolls down the isles of tables towards our spot in the back.

My palms start to sweat and I can't keep my legs from shaking. I look around the room at anything but him as he sits down next to me. He scoots his chair so that it is right next to mine, a little too close for comfort. We are so close that our legs are pressed up against each other. He knows that he makes me uncomfortable. He knows I don't want him to touch me any more than he already has. Does he care? No. I don't think he's ever cared about anything other than himself.

"How are you baby doll? Miss me?" He whispers in my ear. I shudder at the unpleasant feeling of his warm breath on my neck. I hate this feeling. The feeling of being helpless and alone.

"Hey, I'm talking to you" he says, raising his voice slightly. I don't want to talk to him, but I also don't want to have to go to the hospital again. I told my mom that I fell down the stairs when she got the call that I had a broken leg and a few broken ribs. I didn't want to tell her that I talked back to Tom and he got mad, causing him to push me down the bleachers in the gym.

"I said, did you miss me?"

I nod my head yes. It is obviously a lie, but I don't want him to get angry with me right now. My whole body hurts from what he did to me at lunch, so I would just like to get through the rest of today without getting beaten. I prefer my body when it is in one piece thank you very much.

"That's better. See, that wasn't so hard" Tom says while pulling me closer by my hair. It stings, but I don't even flinch. I've gone through much worse. A little bit of pain is nothing compared to what he has put me through in the past.

He places his big hand on my right knee, rubbing circles into my soft skin. If it were anyone else, I'd welcome the skinship. But it isn't anyone else. It is Tom, and his touch makes me want to throw up. I keep my eyes forward, silently begging for the teacher to hurry up and enter the classroom.

His hand starts to go high and higher, causing me to shift uncomfortably in my seat. I glance at him from the corner of my eye, looking for some sign that he will stop soon. He is smirking triumphantly, his eyes bright with joy. He is happy that I am so uncomfortable and revolted. He likes to see me suffer. What kind of sick human being is he?

His hand goes under my skirt for the third time today, this time slipping under my underwear. I gasp as he slides his fingers into me, going in and out in an endless cycle. The intense pain makes my eyes water as my body reacts to the unwanted attention in my lower region. Tears threaten to overflow as I control my breathing and think of something, anything, to prevent myself from feeling.

I look around the full classroom begging, pleading, with my eyes for someone to notice. For someone to stop him. For someone to help me. No one does.

Then again, what did I expect?