[Careful; I might Bite.] Chapter Twelve.Mature

              I gaped, utterly gobsmacked at Jay. He smirked - oh for Pete's sake, when does he not? - and yawned, a mischevious twinkle in his pupils.

              "Getting rather late. But, I see, that you weren't ready to go to sleep just yet?" I didn't respond; I guess I was still in shock. Darren, now this?

              "Oh, stop looking so scared. It's not like we all haven't done it." Standing up, he walked slowly towards me, until we were face to face.

              "Why are you in my room, Harfield?" To my enjoyment, he drew back from the deathly glare and dark tone that I shot at him. He recovered - unfortunately.

              "This is my house. Am I not allowed to go where I wish anymore?"

               "This is my room! Private space, you ever heard of that?" I hissed. Yelling and pulverising his brains out would not be a good idea, no matter how tempting, if I still wanted to stay un-noticed by the rest of the family. Besides ... he practically has no brain to smash to a pulp.

                "Why were you outside, Clark?" He whispered, leaning forwards, meeting my now blank expression. Every instinct of mine was telling me to slap him, kick him out and go to bed. Short and sweet.

                 "I don't have to explain my business. Least of all, to you." He was too close. The scent of his deoderant wafted around my nose, stinging the sensitive skin.

                  "Of course you don't," He shrugged. "But I'm sure Mum and Dad would be interested to know." I stared, inwardly panicking. They can't find out. Even if it doesn't matter too much to them, everything has to be reported back to Steph. This was my last chance ...

                   "I can keep it to myself though. Our secret, if you like." Crap. I hear a but coming. "However, only if you could promise a few little things."

                    Hah. Not even I thought Jay Harfield could sink so low as to blackmail. That just hits the bottem of the foodchain.

                    Without a response from me, he continued, " One; You'll be hanging with me and my friends tomorrow lunch. And two: I want you to avoid Darren McAlistair. Any issues?"

                   "You heartless piece of shi-"

                    "I take that as a no." He interrupted my insult. Winking, he pulled a stray strand of my hair back behind my ear, then pulled away from the intimate scene.

                   "Sleep tight, Clark." He swaggered, cockily, to the door and left. And what did I do?

                   I stayed, crouched on the carpet, cursing him to the very depths of hell.





The End

8 comments about this story Feed