Leila
He was always in her mind.
Everywhere she went. Every day when she woke up. Every night when she went to bed. He had that affect on her, that crazy desire. But she hadn't seen him in so long, after they agreed never to do what they did again. She wasn't supposed to think about him, or the muscles in his arms or how it felt to touch his bare chest. And yet, sometimes she couldn't think about anything else.
Like right now.
She replayed the scene in her head, the first time they ever kissed, how he tangled his fingers in her chocolate colored hair and ran his hands down her spine. How he grabbed her ass roughly and whispered, "This is mine," in her ear before disappearing, leaving her feeling numb in that stairwell. Over and over she thought about it, shivering when she got to the end of the scene. His hand wasn't there, but she could feel it.
That day was 9 months ago.
Leila shook her head, clearing her head and coming back to reality. Her homework sat glaring at from the espresso colored desk she rested her elbows on. It's like the essay was repulsed at her dirty thoughts...
And there he was again. On her knees in front of him, her lips around him, blowing him as pleasure flashed in his eyes. She lived to hear him moan and taste his cum.
But that was eight months ago.
She sighed. Leila wanted to smack herself. Put TJ out of your mind, Leila, you have work to do.
She placed her pen on the paper again, scribbling a sentence about 'the Puritans living in their harsh ways because'.
Knock knock knock.
And so it began.
I lifted my head, my eyebrows furrowed. I checked the clock: 5:06 p.m. Who could it be? My sister was off on a field trip with my mother as a chaperone. They weren't supposed to be home until 8 because they were in Columbia. And my stepdad already texted her, saying that he was at his office writing an offer for one of his buyers and probably wouldn't be home until late. Should I answer the door?
Knock knock knock.
I rose out of her office chair and
slipped over to the window, peering out to see the visitor on the front porch. Based on his height, it must been someone from my school. Maybe someone was returning the jacket I lost a few days ago. Not likely. That was a North Face and I go to a public high school. I hurried down the hallway and into the foyer, flipping a switch to light her surroundings.
"Who is it?" I asked slowly.
"Leila? It's TJ. Can I come in?"
Shit. Shit shit shit. Fucking shit.
I opened the main door but left the screen door locked, staring wide-eyed at the boy whose light brown hair and strong body made me weak at every touch.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" I hissed, glaring through the glass.
"We need to talk," he said, trying to open the door. He frowned.
"What if my parents were home?"
"I know they aren't. So let me in." His eyes begged me, but I still didn't know what he wanted, so I opened the door and turned away, letting him slip past me. The fabric on his shirt brushed my bare arm and I surpressed a shiver. I close the heavy front door and meet his eyes again. He's taller than I remember. I guided him to our living room, gesturing him to sit on our old brown couch. I sat back in our soft recliner and stared him down.
"Well?" I scoffed.
"I know we haven't seen each other in a long time but I heard some rumors and I had to know if they were true. Did you...," he struggled for words, looking away, "Are you... With someone?"
"Yeah, I am,"
"Patrick, right?"
"Mm hmm."
"Do you...know why he's never had a girlfriend before?"
At this, I tilted my head. Patrick had never dated someone before me, that I knew, but I didn't know there was a reason.
"Um...no...,"
TJ breathed deeply, like he didn't want to say what's on his mind. His gaze pierced mine, and I saw fear in them.
"He...he tried to force himself onto a girl last year. He left her bruised and tried to make her promise not to tell anyone. But she spilled, and then everyone stayed away from him. And I...,"He looked down at his fingers. I knew could finish his sentence, but right now that was the least of my concerns. I shakily got off of the recliner and walked around my room, my legs suddenly too weak to hold me upright on the hard wood. I grabbed hold of the bookcase and tried to take a deep breath. Patrick was so sweet and funny, and he'd never hurt anyone.
Would he?
I heard TJ get to his feet behind me, coming closer.
"I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt, Leila. That's why I came, to warn you." I watched as my vision blurred and my eyes stung. This isn't happening. I turned and lifted my chin to face TJ, and the choked sob rose from my throat, an ugly and strangled noise. I collapsed into his arms, letting him pull me over to the other couch. He held me to his chest, stroking my hair and whispering calm words until my loud sons turned into soft whimpers. I breathed in his scent deeply, letting it calm me down enough for me to lean back out of his hug.
"Are you alright now?" TJ asked, and I shook my head. I was still too shocked.
"I can make you feel better. I can make it all go away, do you remember?" He whispered.
Of course I remembered. His mind control tricks. That's how it all started so long ago.
I wasn't sure if I trusted him.
"I know."
"Do you want me to?"
Silence.
"Yes, TJ, I do,"
He snapped his fingers, "Trance."
And the world fell away.
