DRAWN (31 page)

          I suddenly feel sick.

          Everyone’s supposed to be in class. It’s how I planned it. But if she’s here---      

The doors swish open again. Yuki comes out freshly showered, his hair damp, skin glistening and---

          Bloody hell!

          I gnash my teeth to keep myself from screaming. Why the bloody hell has he come out half-naked, with just a bloody towel wrapped around his lips? Doesn’t he know Ameli-ho is going to eat him alive when he shows that much skin?

          “
Oh my
.” Amelia’s voice is shriller than usual.

          She’s staring.

         
I’m
staring.

          It’s so bloody hard to stop staring when you’re faced with that much perfection. Yuki is such a god.

          She flips her hair over her shoulder and giggle. “Did I come at a bad time?” Her fingers trail over his arm, and his muscles flex like it can’t get enough of her touch.

          I want to strangle her. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not to kill her. I just want her to bloody stop giggling.

          Yuki reaches out and plays –
plays –
with her hair, the way he does with mine. He pulls her close, biting her ear, making her giggle and push herself against him.

“It’s okay. I’m happy to see you all the same,
senpai
.”

That one word kills me in a heartbeat. It’s a knockout.

Yuki lifts his gaze right after he speaks, Amelia in his arms, me in his yes.

The world blurs.

          I nearly tumble down to the first floor in my haste get away. I hear Yuki suddenly calling for my name, and I try to walk more quickly.

          “What’s going on?” Amelia shrieks.

          Yuki’s footsteps sound like thunder.

          I give up pretending and break into a run, but of course he still manages to catch me. He whirls me around.

          I kick him in the shin on impulse, but my ankle folds wrong when I stagger back. We both almost lose our balance, yelping in pain simultaneously.

          God of karma, whoever you are,
really?

         
Yuki broke my heart, so can’t I break his knee or something?

          Or is this a matter of gods of the same bloody feather stick together?

          I hop a step away, trying to ignore the way my ankle’s blazing in pain. “Don’t come near me or I…I’ll do it again!”

          His baby blues are dark with regret – and probably a little pain, too. He probably thinks he’s taken things too far, but actually he hasn’t. I’m just the one who’s too bloody stupid to understand what he’s trying
not
to say all along.

          “
Senpai---
”

          “Don’t call me that!” My skin crawls at the word. I can’t believe how bloody stupidly happy I was to hear him call me that before. I thought that was mine, just mine, but it’s not. He’s probably called every girl he’s shagged who’s a nanosecond older than him
senpai.

         
I want to kill myself for being so bloody stupid. For being so bloody smug. All that drama about his parents wasn’t the real issue. He isn’t leaving me because he thinks we’re the past all over again. He’s leaving me because I might get all clingy and suicidal like Akito-san, and he’s not up for that kind of shite. All this time, he’s been trying to tell me that Dad’s right.

          Toy means slut.

          Yuki pales. “No,
senpai
.
No.
”

          I can’t believe I said the words out loud.

          “I got carried away.” Yuki’s accent is so thick.

          When he reaches for me, I panic and kick him again, with my other leg this time. I was aiming for his knee, honestly. But somehow my foot connects solidly with his balls.

          Yuki falls down on his knees.

          I bite my lip to prevent myself from asking if he’s okay. Do balls burst like balloons or something? Do I even have the right to care? I can’t believe I got everything so wrong. I can’t believe I let myself love Yuki so much when he finds it so easy to replace me and switch from one bloody
senpai
to another.

         
When he looks up, I tense involuntarily. “
Senpai---
”

          A huge wave of pain crashes over me.

          He’s so unfair.

          He can’t kick me back, obviously, so now he’s just torturing me emotionally.

          “
I said stop calling me that!”
Every time he says it, he might as well call me a whore. I feel so, so dirty I want to lock myself inside a washing machine set on high speed and with gallons of extra strong detergent dumped in it.

          I look at him, but I don’t really see him. My mind’s replaying every minute I’ve spent with Yuki, and now every minute of it makes me sick. I used to think it’s such an exaggeration when people say they’re so hurt they can’t breathe because of it. But it’s true. I’m gasping for air, but all that comes in is toxin from the memories Yuki’s dirtied. 

         
Take off your panties.

          Touch yourself.

          Touch my---

          “Let me explain,
senpai.
”

          For a few moments, all I can do is stare at him with eyes that are so hatefully blurry.

          Yuki whitens.

         
Senpai
in my ears used to mean so many sweet things. I thought it was just Yuki’s perverse way of calling me
baby.
But now, it just feels like he’s saying I’m a whore over and over again.

          When Yuki manages to get on his feet, I panic again. I hop away, but heartbreak makes me clumsier and slower than usual. I almost trip when I see him still coming after me, holding his slipping towel with one hand while nursing his crotch with the other. Shouldn’t he be, like, paralyzed by now?

          “Quit coming after me!”

          “Then stop running away and let me explain!”

          Does he really think I’m dumb enough to believe anything he says now? My tear ducts have finally lost the battle, and my face is completely drenched in seconds. I try to flex my ankle, testing it, but pain strikes my lower body right away. Okay, okay, I get it. More hopping, no running.

          Panic has gotten me hopping in full circle, huffing in hurt and just plain tiredness. I really need to join Lace in her workouts more often. Now I’m back where it all started. Ended. Amelia, still standing next to the locker room doors, looks up from her iPhone, glaring at me when our gazes collide.

          “Don’t tweet about this,” I say without thinking.

          “Bitch.”

          I take a deep breath before I say feelingly, “Back atcha.”

          I peek over my shoulder, and the sight of Yuki bearing down on me jumpstarts my dead heart.

He really is a god. Any normal guy would have been rolling all over the floor now and puking. Maybe he’s broken so many hearts along the way he’s way used to girls beating him up for being such an arse.

          Probably shagged a million girls along the way, too. For all I know, he’s shagging them the same time he’s playing with his
toy.

          The thought sends a fresh new wave of pain to drown my world.

          “D…don’t come near me or I’ll…I’ll…” I think madly of another threat to scare him away but I can’t think of any. How does one scare a god?

          “
Senpai---
”

         
Whore---

Yuki just keeps going. Isn’t he supposed to die of internal bleeding now?

          I dash into the locker room.

          “SENPAI!”

          WHORE!

          That sends me hopping like mad, trying to find a place to hide where I can just get myself together and not let my crazy impulses dictate my every move.

          “What the hell?”

          “Who is it?”

          “Chariot?”

          “Himura?”

          Guys scramble to whip their tiny towels around their bodies as I hop past them, mumbling ‘sorry’ with each step I take. My face is near bursting red as I get past the first parallel row of lockers. I have never seen so many partial glimpses of willies in my life. I think I’m going to die.

          “Let me explain!”

          I look over my shoulder again, and almost end up kissing Yuki. He’s that close. Shite. Panicking, I start pushing the doors to shower stalls until I find one that’s not occupied so I can barricade myself inside it.

          Yuki’s fist bangs on the plastic door. “
Senpai,”
he shouts over the loud hiss of shower sprays around us.

          The blue-tiled shower stall is so small I can’t move without hitting one of its walls. But it’s having Yuki so close that makes me claustrophobic.

          “
Please just stop
.” Running always exhausts me, but right now I’m guessing it’s having my feelings all over the place that’s making my throat feel so parched. “Every time you call me that, I feel…it doesn’t…” I look at the shower head longingly, wondering if I can manage a gulp of water without getting myself wet.

          “I’m sorry,” Yuki says when it becomes obvious I can no longer speak. He shouldn’t have heard what I was saying, but he does. I should have learned my lesson from Greek myths, really. It so doesn’t pay to fall in love with a god. It’s either you get transformed – flower, bull, you name it, the gods can be that petty – or you just get…crushed.

          Voices erupt in unison from the locker area. I think I hear Mr. Lewis calling my name in exasperation. There goes our truce again. It was good while it lasted, too.

          “Please come out.” Yuki’s voice breaks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted you to…” Self-loathing creeps into his voice. “I just wanted you to go away. Because you loving me – I couldn’t let myself believe it.”

         
He’s faking it
, I tell myself. Gods can be good actors, too.

          “You were right all along. I was fucked up.”

          Still faking it.

          “I was scared, like you said. What I felt for Anika was nothing compared to how happy I was with you.”

          Fake, fake, fake.

          “But I never thought you’d think I made you---”

          “Your
slut
.”

          “You were never that! Never! If I knew you would even think that---”

          “Just stop it,” I say because I honestly can’t handle any more of his B.S. “I won’t bother you anymore,” I say in a voice so brittle I’m afraid it’s going to crack any moment. “But do me a favor please. You keep saying that if we’re out of each other’s life it won’t make a difference.” Of course it won’t make a difference. Toys
never
make a difference. Even kids stop crying when you give them a new toy to replace the old one they’ve had for
years.

          “I was
lying
.”

          No, he wasn’t. But he’s lying now.

“Well, it makes a difference to me. A lot. So I’m not going to be too proud to beg.” My voice breaks at the end. “Will you please, please walk out of my life for good?”

Kelly comes out from the kitchen just in time to see me trying to sneak my way to the front door.

          Shit. I was really hoping she’d be sleep by now.

          Kelly rubs her eyes. “Kat?”

It’s just her and me again, with Dad away for another save-the-world conference. I wish I had the guts to beg him to stay and tell him to save
me
instead. But since we’re still not talking, I can only try to cope. One fucking hour at a time.

           “Are you going out?” she asks, her gaze falling on the door knob, which I’m gripping tightly.

         
Fuck no. I’m actually coming in. Because when you step out of your fucking house, it’s called coming---

         
Stop, sarcastic potty-mouthed self. This is beneath you.

          I take a deep breath. “Yes, Mom. Just going over at Jace’s.” That’s a total lie, but I say it without even blinking. These days, I’m the world’s greatest liar.

          “You’re going out like that?”

         
No. I’m not. This fucking tube dress I’m wearing is actually something I’d tear off the moment I reach the sidewalk. Because that’s what normal people do. They wear their birthday suits out in the streets and go fucking crazy.

         
I take another deep breath, hoping I can exorcise the evil, cussing, sarcastic demon inside me with it. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ve got a sweater with me just in case it gets chilly.” She knows I know it’s not the point she’s trying to make, but it’s the best I can do. It’s that or let the demon loose again.