Diary of a Siren | IN PROGRESS

Max

Max had been with his girlfriend for almost two years. 

She is manipulative—won't let him be a typical teenager. Her trust in him is as little as the tension on her leash is tight. Or maybe it's personal insecurity—she's worried if he is out of her sights then some other girl will bat an eyelash and he will swoon. She was the year above him, but no more mature, and today she fucked up by leaving him alone with his friends. 

I've watched Max for a couple of years—hence why I know he has a girlfriend. You can learn a lot from watching people, so I also know other random shit about him. We've never spoken before or had any classes together, even though we've been at the same high school for three years. Notice that I didn't pay any mind to the name of his girlfriend, because honestly, that part doesn't matter. What matters is that he loves her, and he lets her treat him like shit.

I sit in the stands of the volleyball game watching him from the other side of the court. He is with his friends—no girlfriend insight. His friends are all attractive, but Max has a certain quality about him I'm heavily attracted to—he's taken.

Even from this far away, and having no previous conversation, the image of his hands on me without his girlfriend's knowledge sends me into a craze.

I watched him from across the way as he leaned into his friend, clearly informing them he was either headed to the bathroom or to the kiosk. I left my own seat before he did and made my way around the other side of the gymnasium.

There he was, in line at the kiosk for snacks. I want a conversation, but I'm not going to start it of course. He will come to me.

Leaned carefully against the wall I watch as he leaves the kiosk with a hotdog in one hand and a bottle of coke in the other, clearly headed for the condiment stand for the sauce. He turned his head back as the lady behind the kiosk yelled out about his forgotten change, but he was still moving backward shaking his head in an attempt to decode what the lady was saying over all the voices. His focus shifted as he received a hard knock to his elbow. Gotcha.

"Shit, sorry!" he said whipping around.

I stood there looking at the floor, making a silent-big-deal about my purse and phone being knocked out of my hands.

"Oh man, I am really sorry about that," he added. He's way too kind. Gosh, I might destroy this one.

"That's uhh... o—kay."

"Wow, you don't sound too forgiving?" he notices my purposeful tone.

It's not exactly rude, but also in no way impressed.

"Phone isn't smashed to pieces so there's a positive," he was looking at me with hopeful eyes and raised eyebrows at the placed sarcasm.

"It's fine really. I just didn't see you coming, I guess." I definitely saw him coming.

"Yeah I didn't see you coming either," our eyes now locked and he smiles.

I return it with a smirk and move my eyes to the floor, bending down slowly to get my things. This should hook him in a little more.

He met me bent down on the floor with hotdog still in hand. He didn't seem too concerned for the bottle of coke that flew over the other side of the hallway. He's worried about me more than his drink. Brilliant.

In an attempt to help, he went to grab my purse, but my timing is impeccable and I slip my hand under his and onto my purse.

I see Max bite the inside of his cheek as he could feel my soft hands. His eyes flicker as he notices one of my fingers lift to lightly stroke his palm with the back of my fingernail.

"Oh," I said innocently as if to not to have realized our hands both grabbed for the purse.

"Sorry about that again," his eyes come back to me, "Looks like we've got everything then?"

"Not... everything," I said biting my lip.

His eyebrows instantly raise at the turn of sexuality in my voice. Oh, I got you in the palm of my hand... literally. Then I added, "Is that your... bottle over there?"

"Right... yeah... my bad," he added nervously.

"Thanks for... that," I said sensitively with another smirk and a slight bat of my eyelashes. 

I was right, look at him swoon, shifting awkwardly as I turn him on with no more than innocent conversation. I feel his eyes on me as I walk away. Just what I wanted. What I needed.

Max returned to his friends. I got to my seat before he did, and could now view the aftermath from across the court.

"What took you so long?" I could tell one ask.

"Meet some chic at the hotdog stand?" said the other as they laughed.

Lip reading is a very good skill to have by the way.

Max's eyes were shifty at the questions, but he was in no way denying their questions.

"You get her number then?" one of his friends asked.

"Dude, of course not. I have a girlfriend."

"Fuck that, I would've! Sounds like she did a number on you in the thirty minutes you were gone."

"Yeah, go back and find her... Maybe it's... fate!" they were teasing, but as I made out that four-letter word on the lips of his friend my body shivered completely in triumph. 

-- Authors Note:

I wanted to start with a short chapter outlining Skylar's sexual traits as a teen to build to the similarities of her as an adult in the present tense. 

Let me know what you think below! :D