Predator

Chapter Seventeen

---///---

When he kisses me, I don't pull away.

Somewhere in the back of my mind there's a slideshow playing; it's of every instant leading up to this moment where I've gotten this feeling, the one I get now. His soft eyes that day in Spanish, the dream, the afternoon in the vinyl store, the night I almost killed myself...

The intensity of it all makes me forget that I've stopped breathing and suddenly I have to, I pull away with a start.

"I can't breathe!" I gasp.

We remain flushed against each other, my forehead leant against his jaw, and him still holding me upright and steady. Oh god, this is bad. This is so bad. I have a desire to lash out and hit him, hard. Still, my energy is depleted entirely which also means that I don't have any left to care, either.

"What happened?" is all I muster, dumbly and like a child.

Will looks troubled, of a sort. "You worked yourself up," he tells me softly. "So much I think you blacked out for a second. Then we kissed and you almost did it again."

He says those words out loud and I stiffen. He feels me do it too, because I feel his mouth open to say something, and then shut.

"I'm sorry, Rach," he then says quietly. "This shouldn't have- I shouldn't-"

"Stop," I cut off, barely above a whisper. "Just hold me for a second."

He doesn't reply to this but the grip around me tightens. What the hell is this? What the hell am I doing?  This isn't right. This is not right.

I have an overwhelming urge to cry, but nothing comes out. Is it possible to cry away all of the tears in your body? I must've done it. I know this is wrong, terribly wrong, but his warm arms are such a comfort right now. The memory of Shelby is still raw in my mind, and right now that's more afflicting than the fact that I'm lying in my rapist's arms.

The snow falling around us has leveled off into a light dusting and covers my skin like dandruff. My hair is starting to feel wet from it, curled on my bare shoulders. I don't have to look up to know that some snowflakes have clung to Will's long eyelashes. All my life, I've loved snow. Now, tonight, I'm not so sure if I do anymore.

"What does this mean?" I suddenly ask him. Because I don't know. I don't think he knows either.

"What?"

"That we kissed."

Our position here on the steps doesn't flinch, but I can tell that his eyes search rapidly across the horizon, like they always do when he has to think about something. After a moment, I hear him swallow hard.

"If you want, nothing," he finally answers, a new deepness in his voice. "I already told you how I feel."

The memory of him standing in my front door is brought to mind when he says this. On that night he told me he didn't want to be with me, but the way he's talking now tells me otherwise. Does he actually want to be in a relationship? Do I?

Suddenly I feel very unsure of myself, and my surroundings have an uncomfortable pressure. Suddenly I remember why, exactly, this is all wrong.

"Will," my voice starts with a tremor, "I'm...I'm not going to say that I don't have- I don't feel anything for you. Because that would be a lie."

Saying that gives me a strange feeling. I've never said it out loud before. Only now it feels incredibly hard to speak.

"But I can't forget what you did to me," I say, tears prickling at my eyes. I guess I didn't run out after all. "You...I...I just remember running out of the choir room. The school was all dark and empty. I couldn't remember how to get out."