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Diamond
The next day rolls around faster than I would’ve liked.
The room is quiet when I begin to stir, the morning sunrays caressing my face and easing me out of slumber, but there’s something in the air.
Something… off.
It feels like a pile of bricks is sitting on my chest when I jolt my eyes open, sitting up in bed and scanning the room.
Finn’s room.
It feels like barely two hours ago, Finn and I were naked on the library rug, his length still deep inside me. I remember the fear rising in my throat when he spilled into the condom and pulled out.
I had to tap into every drop of courage in my body to look him in the eyes after that. I thought this was the part where he picked up his baseball bat and smashed my heart into a thousand pieces.
Instead, he took my hand, pulled me to my feet, and threw me over his shoulder to carry me to his bed.
We cuddled the rest of the night.
The same way we did when we fell asleep in his backyard. We must’ve spent three hours kissing and bickering—he strictly refused to let me leave his bed to get dressed—before we passed out around seven. It was great, but… leaving me alone to wake up in his bed after he popped my cherry?
Not so great.
He bailed.
We had sex and he left.
As if it wasn’t bad enough, his side of the bed is made. Almost like he woke up, saw me sleeping, and thought, “Eh. Let’s just pretend she’s not there.”
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do from here. Just take off? I did say I was leaving no matter what. I’m stupid enough to search the sheets and nightstand for a note. I even check my phone for an apology text message.
Nada.
I’m about to go comb through the library for my clothes when I hear heavy footsteps hurrying up the stairs.
He’s back?
I manage to convince myself that he didn’t run out on me. Maybe an emergency came up, or maybe he did chicken out, but then he came to his senses. All of that fades at the sound of a deep and croaky voice.
“Stop fucking with me, Richards. I know you’re here,” a man calls from down the hall.
My breathing halts, my heart pulsing dangerously fast.
It’s not Finn.
It never was.
He’s not coming back for you, Dia.
My survival instincts scream to hide, to throw on whatever clothes I can find and climb out the window. Who cares if I break my leg? It can’t possibly be worse than getting ambushed by a stranger while butt naked in a boy’s bed.
“Hey, motherfucker, I’m talking to you.” There’s anger in the man’s voice. Whoever this is, he’s no friend of Finn’s, and he sure didn’t stop by for a cup of tea.
I spot Finn’s closed door and feel the adrenaline kick in. Maybe if I run, I’ll have time to lock it. That should buy me some time so I can figure out my next move.
My phone.
I need my phone.
