His for Keeps(6)

By: Theodora Taylor

When he was out of eyeshot, I relaxed and turned to Colin. “You alright?” I asked him.

“You’re an idiot.”

Not quite the answer I’d been expecting after saving his bacon, and I stared at him, blinking, I was so taken aback.

Another thing I remember clearly about that night: the way his eyes glittered in the moonlight as he snarled, “You shouldn’t have interfered.”

I took a step back, but just like with Mike, I stood my ground. “I was only trying to help.”

“What makes you think I needed some idiot girl’s help?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered. “I guess you being maybe a buck forty soaking wet up against a state champion football player made me think that?”

“I weigh a lot more than that,” Colin shot back as he went to pick his Urkel glasses up out of the grass. They were, like the violin, bent at an awkward angle, but he jammed them back on his face anyway.

And that made me feel sorry for him all over again.

Because the truth was, if I hadn’t intervened, Mike would have kicked his ass. Probably would have broken a few fingers, too, just because.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” I said, letting some apology creep into my voice. “I thought I was helping.”

“You didn’t help me,” Colin spat out. “You just gave him something else to lord over me. So thank you for that, Beaumont girl.”

“Colin, I was only trying to—”

“Get out of here,” he said, voice vicious as a thunderstorm. “I’m sick of looking at your idiot face.”

As insults went, it wasn’t the worst I’d had flung at me. I had been playing guitar in mostly white establishments since the age of eight, after all. But something about his dismissal cut me deep, digging into old wounds that had never properly healed. At that point, I’d been getting dismissed all my life. By my father, by club owners, by my mother, by school teachers who’d told me I’d never amount to anything because I was more interested in coming up with new song lyrics than learning what they had to teach. Hell, this whole summer with Mike had felt like a dismissal.

But at that moment, I just couldn’t take getting dismissed by Colin, too.

“I’m not your servant,” I informed him. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Get out of here,” he said, advancing on me.

I tried to shove him back, and was shocked to find he’d been telling the truth. He wasn’t nearly as skinny as he appeared. He didn’t even stumble.

He, on the other hand, had no problem getting me to move. He pushed me toward the white picket fence. “Get out of here!”

I stumbled, but came back with a “No!” and stood strong.

Another push toward the fence. “I said get out of here, Beaumont girl!”

The insult of him referring to me once again by the name of my neighborhood made me erupt like a volcano. The next thing I knew, I was kicking at him and shoving him away from me, yelling, “No! No! Get your hands off of me!”

My endgame? I had no idea. Still don’t. In that moment, I just knew I wasn’t going to let him push me away or throw me off the Lancers’ property like a bag of trash.

At first he just kept on trying to corral me toward the gate. But for every little push he gave me, I shoved him, as hard as I could. Putting all my body weight into it, and swiping at him like a cat when he tried to advance on me again.

“I said git, Beaumont!” he yelled at me.

“And I said no!” I yelled right back.

He let out a low growl, and the next thing I knew, my back slammed into the wall beside the stairs, a hand manacling around my wrists, pinning them above my head before I could fight back, much less shove him away.

I tried to move, but he was stronger than he looked. He easily kept me pinned against the side of the Lancers’ mansion, his thin chest pressed into my soft one… and something else that wasn’t so thin pressed into my stomach.

That was when things got weird.

We’d just fought. Like, physically fought. And now he had my back to the wall, with what felt like a raging hard on inside his jeans.

I was scared. I’d only really gone through puberty that year, and despite what my newly big chest and wide hips might have led others to believe, I didn’t have much experience with boys yet. Mostly with Mike, I’d just lain there and taken it.

But there was no mistaking what was happening to me in this position. I could feel heat pooling between my legs as my breasts became incredibly tight, their nipples pebbling behind my thin cotton bra.