Tease // Robbie Kay

Chapter 10: Confliction

A/N: this would have been rated R because of the word r*ped that was used.  I don't want it blocked so ignore the star thing pls and thank you

Chapter 10: Confliction







Not a sip of alcohol in me, and yet, I feel as if I've been hit by a train.



School spirit day today, and the big game tonight.



Every student was wearing a school shirt, mine maroon and saying "BEAT SHORELINE" in bold, white letters. Some even wore face paint or hair pieces, and three guys showed up in maroon body suits. Danielle, Kylie, and Natalia wore their cheerleading uniforms, while Zoey and I sported the same shirt.



Robbie and the rest of his friends had on a school shirt as well, except Ben.



Still wearing some graphic tee he probably found at an urban skate store.



Speaking of Ben...



I don't think he knew it was me. It was a foggy blackness in that place, and I think I got into Kylie's car before he spotted me from under the street lights I saw him standing in.



I managed to avoid Robbie for the most part. It seemed to be the best option since I'd hate to put myself in a bad place by eventually falling for him. But I did spot him about twice in the halls, and he was walking with Ben and Calum each time.



It wasn't until lunch when things took a pretty awful turn.



I was approaching my table, holding my tray, when suddenly, Robbie cut me off in the middle of the cafeteria. He looked angry; his lips were taut and his eyebrows furrowed. He whisked my tray from my hands and carelessly tossed it onto the nearby table.



"Got a problem?" I asked. I tried to put on an annoyed 'ahem-you're-in-my-way' face, but I was so scared.



"What were you doing last night?" He demanded.



"Huh?"



"Don't play dumb! You didn't happen to be at that stupid street party, were you?" He was raising his voice. Oh no.



"Don't talk so loud. Just tell me what's going on," I said. But I knew. He knew. He knew that I knew he knew.



"Had some fun with Ben, didn't we?"



Half the students' eyes were fixed on Robbie and I, and I couldn't take it. I sprinted to the stairs and out of the lunch room.



I kept running until I made it to the history hallway, trying to find the nearest bathroom.



"Shit," I whispered, but not long before I felt my arm grabbed and I was thrown into a locker.



My head hit the metal, a loud clashing sound ricocheting through the corridor as a sharp pain shot through my head and down my neck. I cried out as I warily stood back up.



"What's your problem?!" I screamed, opening my eyes to see Robbie still gripping my arm. I shoved him off me. His eyes seemed sadder and he was less angry.



"I didn't mean to do that," he sighed.



"Well you did!" I winced and rubbed the back of my head.



"Let me see," he whispered, reaching for the wound.



"Don't touch me!" I shouted, backing away from him.



"You were dancing with Ben," he changed the subject.



"Who cares? Not me," I said, turning away from him and continuing down the hall. Of course, he grabbed my arm again.



"Stop touching me!" I screamed. I was getting angry, and sooner or later I'd probably be drawing attention to myself, but all I wanted was to get away. You can not tell me we are nothing and then get pissed when I dance with your best friend. You just don't.



"Why would you do that with him?" he asked. I slid my arm from his hand.



"Doesn't matter," I said firmly. "You forgot about me."



And with that, I walked away again, and this time he didn't follow.



"I never forgot about you!" He screamed down the hall, "why else would I care?!"



I turned to face him at the intersection of the corridors.



"Who knows? Because I sure don't care."



Oh, but I sure did.



*~*~*~*



"I really hope we win," I said as Zoey unclipped another section of my hair to curl. We were sitting on two stools in her bathroom, makeup and school tees on, while eating a few chips here and there from the bag on the counter.



"Me too," she said, "my boyfriend is the quarterback."



"Harry?" I asked.



"You know him?" she rolled up another section of my hair on the barrel.



"I heard you were dating him from Kylie," I said, "what's he like?"



"Well," she smiled, unraveling my hair and moving to a new piece, "he has curly brown hair. Not gross curly, but cute curly. He's always smiling and making jokes. He likes flannel shirts and skinny jeans. He's basically the diamond you'd find on a hipster tumblr blog. He's a beauty, a real charmer, and he's British," she winked.



"Aha, British," I said, a giggle escaping my throat, "like Robbie."



Zoey stalled, and held onto the curler longer than needed, just staring at me through the mirror.



I said that out loud. Great.



"Don't burn my hair off," I whispered.



Zoey immediately removed the iron and placed it on the sink. "Like Robbie?" she asked.



"Well," I defended, "he's British too."



"You sounded a little girly to just be putting that out there. What's going on?" she asked. She continued curling the same section, never breaking her gaze from mine in the mirror.



"Nothing," I said.



"Your guard's up. Tell me."



"You can't tell Danielle," I said, "or anyone else."



"I won't," she promised, "if, you don't do anything stupid."



"I won't."



"Good. Now hit me."



I sighed. "I like Robbie. Alot. I hated him at first, but once I found out he lived next door and we began talking a little while, I realized he's actually really cute and funny. He's a tease, for sure. But I find myself attached to him for no reason. I really like him, but at the same time, I can't seem to stand him. It's crazy."



She silently curled another section.



"He's a monster," she said, "what could possible make you like him?"



"I don't know," I said, "he came over to my house."



"What?"



"He fell asleep in bed with me and we cuddled when he woke up. He smells like the grass after it rains and I like the sound of his breathing. Stupid little things I shouldn't have cared about."



Zoey finished up the last section of my hair and unplugged the curling iron. "Dude. Wow. Don't say a thing to Danielle."



"I don't have a death wish."



*~*~*~*



We we're a little late to the game; we stopped for some food at a little 50's style restaurant called Roxy's a quarter mile from the stadium. After what seemed forever, we threw away our empty onion ring boxes and milk shake cups and stepped outside.



It was warm, so all I needed to wear was my Beat Shoreline t-shirt, my basic, darkwash denim shorts, and some black converse. Zoey wore the same, except for her high-top maroon converse (guess she beat me there). We walked to the stadium, since the parking lot was full and we were late anyway.



It was 6:18 when we finally entered the gate, meaning the national anthem was over and kick-off already happened. We trudged through the grass, past the concession, past the tunnel to get under the stadium, before we reached the concrete steps.



We walked along the sideline, past the screaming student section, toward the railing where we waved at Danielle, Natalia, and Kylie. They wore their maroon cheerleading outfits and white football paint cheek streaks.



"When we yell white, you yell fight! White-"



"FIGHT!"



"White-"



"FIGHT!"



"Let's go Oakwood! Fire up!"



We watched Kylie, Natalia, and another girl throw Danielle in the air. She did a toe touch and landed her cradle. The student section began screaming louder.



"Let's see if we can find a seat!" Zoey shouted.



We scooted up the stairs and peered into the bleachers, not finding a smidgen of space. Meaning, we'd have to walk to the very top, and watch from up there.



We continued to the top and stood along the backside railing, Zoey screaming along as I got lost watching the players. Oh god, I don't know how to play, or even what's going on. I guess I'm a little lame.



As the buzzer for halftime blared through the hazy sunset air, I looked behind me toward the beach across the bluff. The water was glistening under the ruby shine of sunlight. It's probably about 8 o' clock my now.



Suddenly, we saw Calum finish his way up the steps and approached the top where we stood. I stayed frozen. Avery followed close behind, and then came Ben. Uh oh.



That meant Robbie wouldn't be far.



A boy with shaggy blonde hair and a white 'Bear Den' shirt came up the stairs next, and then, Robbie.



The four boys filed onto the bleacher we stood, Robbie and Calum to my right. The blonde-haired boy and Avery scooted to the left of Zoey. Ben stood in between her and I.



"How are we doing tonight?" Ben asked, smiling broadly.



I wasted no time.



"Come with me," I said, grabbing his arm and squeezing past Calum and Robbie (who, mind you, wouldn't even glance at me). I took him along the back to the wall next to the voice box.



"Why did you tell Robbie about last night?" I asked him, releasing his arm.



"I didn't," he said, looking back to where they stood before turning his attention back.



Aha, whoah.



"Then how does he know?"



"I told Alex, and I think he told."



"Alex?"



He pointed to the blonde in between Avery and Zoey. "Him," he said, "That's Alex."



I wonder if this is the Alex that Danielle likes. He fits the description nicely.



"Why would it be so bad if he knew?" Ben asked. Then, his facial expression changed. "Oh, I know."



"What? Why?"



"Nothing, nothing." He began walking back to the bleachers.



"Ben," I said firmly, grabbing his wrist. He sighed and faced me.



"Look, I can't tell you," he whisked his arm from me, "trust me."



"Fine," I said, walking back with him to our seat.



What could Ben be hiding? Am I not supposed to grind on Robbie's friends or...?



We scooted through Calum and Robbie to get back to our seat, before I grabbed Zoey.



"Come with me to the concession," I said, quickly pulling her from between the boys and dragging her down the staircase.



As we walked under the stadium and through the tunnel, we stopped for the rush of Oakwood football players who were on their way into the locker room.

"Are you getting anything?" Zoey asked.

"Nah," I said. "Just wanted to tell you about Ben and I's conversation."

"Oh, yeah, I saw that. What happened?"

And from there, I zoned out.



Jackson Trey.

Jackson Trey was standing by the gate. Jackson Trey was here? Shoreline, I guess? Why is he on our side of the stadium? Why is he here in general? How could I have forgotten about him?


Okay, background.



Jackson and I dated sophomore and junior year, so about a year and six months. Him and I got into a fight because, well, I wouldn't go all the way with him. So he went and got it from someone else.



And now, here he was, in his stupid white tee and black skinny jeans. A black beanie rested on top of his brown hair, his fingertips embedded in his pockets.



I don't like him anymore, I really don't. But, I still feel an impossible anger and hurt when I see him. I'd never take him back, and I'd never love him again, but I didn't forget how I felt, and it hurts to see him.



"Is everything okay?" Zoey asked, noticing me starting at him as he leaned against the gate with two of his friends.



Don't notice me.



Don't notice me.



His eyes left there's and met mine. He did a half-smile and excused himself, walking toward me.



Damn it.



"I'm going to go to the bathroom," I said.



"Robbie and his friends are coming down the tunnel," Zoey warned.



"Thanks," I said, shooing her off.



"Hey," Jackson said, approaching me with his eyes down to his vans and then back up to me, "I haven't seen you in awhile. How's Oakwood?"



"Fine," I choked, "and Shoreline?"



"Boring," he said, "not a lot of sweet girls."



"Bet that's a bummer," I maundered, losing my eye contact and drifting off to the other kids in the concession line.



"You seem uninterested," he observed.



"Oh, how'd you guess?" I snapped.



"Hey now, Arianna," he cooed, softly rubbing the fingers of my left hand. I flinched, but didn't stop him.



He turned his head quickly over both shoulders, then looked back at me. "Come with me," he said.



"I don't want to."



"Come."



He pulled me through both concession lines until we had passed through the tunnel and out the other side, in the empty practice field.



By now, the sun had just set and the sky was a husky gray. It'd be dark before long.



"Do you still want me?" he asked, stopping us, behind the stadium, into the grass.



"Huh?" Na uh. No.



"Do you?"



"Don't start," I stuttered.



"I miss you."



"Stop it," I said. I couldn't take this. I turned to leave.



"Wait," he stopped me, grabbing my arm. I flinched.



"Don't touch me please," I said quickly.



He released his arm, then half-heartedly laughed.



"You want me to touch you."



I cannot believe this! Is he listening to himself?



"I want to touch you," he finished.



"You didn't get me then, and you won't know. We've been talking for only minutes and you're already trying to make me submissive to you. I refuse." I said firmly, then began walking away.



I couldn't make it three feet before he grabbed me around the waist and threw me to the ground, climbing on top of me.



"What are you doing?!" I demanded, sitting up on my elbows.



"Shut up," he growled, pushing my shoulders into the grass. I cried out in pain as I hit my head in the process, right where I hit it earlier today.



He situated himself in between my thighs and roughly grabbed my face, smashed his lips to my own. I whined, trying to bat at his arms with my hands. He grabbed my wrists and slammed them into the dirt, piercing the skin with his fingernails.



He let go of one hand and pinned both down with his forearm, so he could move his right hand under my shirt and to my chest.



I turned my head to the side to break him off. "Stop," I gasped, continuing to move my head away from his mouth.



He grinded his hips into me. I squeaked, and he took the opportunity to begin kissing me again, shoving his tongue in between my lips.



I began crying. I hated this.



He started kissing the tears off my cheeks. "I know you missed me, he whispered, sucking them off my jawline.



"I hate you," I stammered.



"You don't," he said harshly, bringing his mouth to mine once again.



When is this going to stop?



"You still want me," he said, "like I want you."



He began fidgeting with my zipper. Oh, no. God no.



Help couldn't have came soon enough, as his weight was pulled off me.



I looked up, through hazy gray vision, to see Calum and Ben pulling Jackson off me by his arms. "Off you go," Ben said, throwing him into the grass behind them.



"I wasn't even doing anything. She asked for it!" Jackson said, scrambling up to his feet.



"You idiot!" Calum said, shoving him backward to where he stumbled a few steps. "She's crying, asshole!"



"She's faking," said Jackson, smirking a little, "she likes it."



"Okay, get lost," Ben snapped, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him further down the practice field.



This time, he continued walking back to the tunnel, fixing his beanie as he went.



I watched the tunnel entrance; Zoey, Alex, and Avery were watching.



Then, I was pulled up to my feet by my right arm, instantly reigniting the pain in my shoulders from when I was slammed into ground. "Aah!" I cried out, immediately making the person holding me pull me up faster and directly into their arms, where I was enveloped in a strong embrace.



He smelled like the grass after it rained, and I recognized the sound of his breathing.



It was Robbie.



I pushed myself out of his arms and looked at him. His eyes were darkened, sad, almost a little angry. Their golden glow seemed blacker.



"Are you okay?" He asked. He didn't sound sincere. Curious.



"Like you care," I snapped, stomping away from him and back to Zoey and Avery and Alex.



"What happened?" Zoey asked, grabbing my hand and walking with me through the tunnel. The lights were on, meaning it was probably downright black outside. And when I looked out the gate, I realized it was.



"I'm fine," I whispered.



"That doesn't answer my question."



"My ex. My ex. He kissed me. And I told him to stop." My voice cracked as I spoke. Oh god, the waterworks.



I began sobbing. I began crying so hard I couldn't continue walking and I collapsed in front of the tunnel bathrooms. Zoey followed me to the floor and pulled me into a hug. God, I'm pathetic. I'm acting like he deflowered me or something! It was only kisses. And grinding, a little grinding. A little chest touching and a lot of tongue. Sure, he should've taken a hint. I've been touched like that before, all my him. Back then, I liked it. But now, I didn't want it. Oh god, my thoughts are a mess.



"Breathe," Zoey whispered, stroking my hair, and she kissed my forehead. I'm a disaster. A walking, breathing disaster.



Calum, Avery, and Alex knelt down next to us. This is so, so embarrassing.



I peeked behind Zoey. Jackson was still in the tunnel. Alex and Robbie hovered by the gate as Ben approached him and punched him in the face. His head flew backward, and he stumbled into the trashcan.



"You're a piece of shit," Ben spat, helping Zoey and I up and rushing us toward the end of the tunnel.



I'm such an inconvenience, god dammit.







*~*~*~*




The rest of the game was a blur.



We won, I know that much, by the screaming of the fans and the streamers shot in the air all over us.



Everyone was on their feet, but I stayed sitting on the bleacher. I just wanted this night to end. That's all I wanted.



When Zoey and I reached her car, she threw me my jacket I had brought and opened the driver's side door. "Need a ride home?" she asked. I nodded warily and walked around to the passenger side, beginning to open the car door when it was slammed shut. I looked up and saw Robbie, who had his hand on the window to stop me from opening it.



"Stop stalling me, please," I begged, "I just want to get home."



He ignored me. "Zoey?" He called. She peeked her head up from the car roof. "She lives next to me," he said, "I can take her home."



"No!" I defied. I was not getting in a car with Robbie. Why does he always have to interfere?



"Oh, alright," said Zoey, seating herself into the car. "I'll see you guys later!"



"No, wait!" I shouted, trying to get her to stop but she was already pulling out of the parking space.



Swell.



I felt a hand grab my arm, not rough, but not gentle either. "Get in," Robbie said, motioning to the navy blue pickup next to the space Zoey's car was in.



I sighed, defeated, and opened the door, climbing up into the seat and staring at the dashboard. I could hear Robbie get in next to me, and then his door shut as well. He started up the engine and began pulling out.



As soon as we hit the main road, he began asking questions.



"Who was he?" He asked.



I turned my head slowly to look at him. He was facing the front, head relaxed against his shoulder, but his jaw was tightened and his knuckles were practically piercing the leather of the steering wheel.



I refused to answer.



"Arianna."



"What."



"Answer me," he snapped.



"I don't owe you a thing."



He began speeding up.



"Careful, road racer." I teased.



"Tell me about him."



"Why do you even care?!" I shouted, "you can't do all these stupid things like crawl into my bed and then tell me to forget everything! You can't yell at me for dancing with your best friend, and you can't yell at me for what just happened! You can't just worm your way into my life and then get angry with me when I don't trust you!"



He remained silent.



"So? You gonna tell me?"



"GAH! You're impossible!" I said, exasperated, staring out the window.



"Do you know him?"



He wasn't giving up.



"Yeah."



"Are you dating?"



"No."



"Used to?"



I continuing watching the traffic.



"Arianna."



And I continued ignoring.



"Arianna!" He snapped.



"Please!" I said, and with that, I began crying. I can't take this. I'm so confused. I'm bawling in Robbie's car. I'm sobbing and leaning my head on the dashboard of his truck. When did my life had to 360 on me?



He was silent, before he made a sharp turn onto a different street.



"You missed our road," I whispered.



"I'm not taking you home yet."



"Why not?" I asked.



"You're still crying. And I still don't know what's going on."



I looked up at him. He was emotionless. Absolutely emotionless. His pale skin reflected iridescent moonlight, the streams of car headlights passing us by in the windows. I felt grown up in his car. But at the same time, I felt impossibly small.



"Just take me home?" I asked.



"Tell me about him first."



You've got to be kidding.



"No."



"No?"



"No."



He sped up the truck.



It was a 40 mile an hour zone and we were going 55. Luckily, the road was desolate of other vehicles, but I felt myself on edge anyway.



"Slow down," I begged.



"You have some explaining to do."



"Robbie!"



I was extremely frightened, gripping the car seats for dear life as he went faster. 60. 65.



"You're scaring me."



"Then talk."



I was crying again. This is so messed up.



"God dammit, fine!" I screamed, "just slow down!"



He did. 60. 55. 50. 45.



"He's my ex," I said.



"What's his name?" he asked.



"Jackson."



"You dated?"



"Mhm."



"You ever made love to him?"



"Robbie!" I shouted, slapping his arm."



"Did you?!" He asked, facing me this time. His lips were slightly parted, his hands still death gripping the wheel.



"No! That's why he left me!"



"Left?"



"He got it from someone else!"



"What an asshole," he said.



"Drop this conversation," I said through gritted teeth. "Just take me home."



This time, he didn't ask any more questions, and pulled into our neighborhood road. He stopped the truck.



"I have another question." He said, turning his body completely around to face me, as best as he could restrained in the seat belt.



"No, you're done." I said, removing my seat belt and opening the car door, grabbing my bag, and began walking down the street to my house. I heard him step out too, and even follow me.



"Go back to your car!" I said, not turning to face him."



"You're getting back safe," he said, "and so I'm following you."



"Well, stay back."



My house was only three away now. And unfortunately, Robbie was right on my heels.



"Arianna," he said.



I walked faster.



"Arianna, hold on a minute."



I continued ignoring him, putting a little more energy in each step to get to my house a little quicker.



"Arianna, please!"



"God, what!" I turned on my heel to face him. I was only one house away, dammit.



He waited until he was directly in front of me, before smiling half heartedly and reaching for my hand, rolling up something in my fingers. I looked down. It was a five dollar bill.



"You left it in the seat," he said.



90 perfect sure I didn't, but yeah sure, I'll take his money.



"Thanks." I said sarcastically. He looked beautiful under the streetlights, honestly. That's the first thing I thought about looking at him. But as of now, I was too angry to care.



I turned back around, walking to my house again, but I felt him tug on my sleeve to face him.



"What!?" I demanded, but I was cut off, as he threw me into his chest, grabbed my face, and began kissing me.



I didn't know how to react. Robbie Kay's lips were dancing on mine, and well, how does one react?



I reflexively grabbed his arms, but I didn't stop him. His body was tense, but when I didn't make an effort to get away, he continued moving his lips along, like the fireflies in the nearby gardens were supposed to be a beat for him.



Finally, I broke it off.



I didn't say a word, or even stare at him long enough to read an expression. I just pushed his arms away from me and stomped back toward my house.



When I finally got to my bedroom, I looked out my window to see his house, and to see him pulling into his driveway in the truck. He sprinted in his house, and I waited for his bedroom light to glow, and then, he looked at me through my window.



I shut the shades the second he looked at me.







Wooahjhhhhhhhh bye