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The first thing that I notice is that the automatic light is still on, which means that someone is still in here, so I relax a little. I think that the boys’ room is a little bigger than the girls’, bending around a corner where more benches and lockers sit, cleared out for the holidays. I hesitantly round the corner, and I see a Gym bag resting alone on the bench in the centre of the room. I squint at it, assuming that it must be Tate’s, but I swear that I have never seen him wearing it before. Seeing that it’s still unzipped I make my way over to it, wondering if my present is in there and if this is some sort of slightly unnerving treasure hunt, but all that I see is a crumpled football kit, a pair of long-abused trainers, a can of men’s deodorant, and an opened box of-
I immediately spin around and Hudson clamps his hand down on my mouth, his palm so cold that it sends needles prickling across my cheeks. I stare, horrified, into his upturned glinting eyes. I dart my eyes around the room to see if Tate is standing nearby and I try to hold back the wetness that seems to be about to spill down my cheeks.What the hell is going on?
“I’m so glad that you could join us,baby,” Hudson taunts, his mouth grimacing in some sort of satisfied sneer. My eyes shoot back to him and he seems to read the fact that I’m looking for Tate. If this is a joke, I am not getting it. Not at all. “He’s not in here,” Hudson comments, and then he adds, “he’s waiting outside so that I can give you your present alone.”
My eyebrows pinch upwards and then Hudson grips his fingers into my cheeks more tightly, making a pained shriek involuntarily escape my throat and muffle against his palm. So stunned by the turn of events I didn’t notice at what point he had clasped my elbows behind me with his other arm, making my shoulder blades strain and ache from the distorted position.
“I’m going to take my hand off of your mouth River but don’t even think about screaming. I swear, if you even try it-” He digs his nails into my cheeks and I nod my head fiercely, tears now spilling over my skin and onto his fingers, promising him that I won’t scream. I want him to get his hands off my face. I hate the fact that my lips are touching him right now.Why the hell does Tate want me to be here with Hudson?
Contented, Hudson takes his hand away from my mouth and immediately he shoves me backwards, the backsides of my knees bashing into the wood behind me and I fall down on my ass, onto the bench next to his bag.
“What’s going on?” I say, my voice shaking slightly. “I’m meeting Tate-”
Hudson laughs and crosses his arms over his chest, smirking down at me. “First of all, shut up for a minute, I’m doing the talking.” My eyes widen as I stare up at him but I keep my mouth shut. The longer he’s talking, the longer he’s not going to try and… and… “You know how Tate is – so religious and all – and he can’t bear the thought of doing anything to dirty you up.” He looks me up and down, from the top of my jacket zip to the hem of my skirt. “Fuck knows why, you really aren’t anything special. The point is, you really disappointed him at Homecoming on his birthday, so I’m here to give you both a gift and rectify your problem.”
My brow creases together significantly and I glance back towards the bend in the room which leads to the exit, desperate for Tate to come in here and tell me that this was a weird joke. I look up at Hudson and shake my head. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about-”
His hand whips across my cheek and my head snaps to the side, my skin instantly aflame with icy pins and needles, burning their way to the surface of my flesh. My glasses imbed painfully into the side of my nose, but if anything I’m just thankful thatthey didn’t go flying across the room. I readjust them and will myself to stop the flow of tears. I wish that I wasn’t crying in front of him, but at least my sobs are silent.
“Shut up,” he says again. “Tate won’t do anything with you unless I fix your issue first, so you should be feeling fucking grateful right now.”
I shake my head but I don’t say anything because I don’t want him to hit me again.
The next thing that I feel is Hudson grabbing my head and smashing his face into mine. It’s one of the most painful things that I have ever experienced, and I have literally just been whacked across the face. His mouth is so hard that it makes me squeeze my eyes shut to try and relieve the suction. He bites his teeth into my top lip and I think that I’m going to scream from the pain piercing through my nerves.
He pulls back and looks at my face, crumpled in confusion and agony. I want to cry out to Tate but then I remember that hewantedme here, so really what I need to do is escape, quickly, and as soon as possible.
Is this really what Tate wanted? Is this what he expected to happen right now?
“Why are you being so weird?” Hudson says, a disgruntled look on his face as he hitches up a pale eyebrow.
I literally can’t believe what is happening so I just continue to stare at him as I try to think of how I can remove myself from Hudson’s grasp and flee the building before he catches me. Hudson takes his hands off my face, making me almost shudder with relief, and he puts them on his hips instead. I look at his wavy blond hair and golden eyes and I consider how, were he a completely different person, Hudson could have been a beautiful boy. But the reality is that I can see the thoughts leaking out of his brain and seeping into every crevice of his face, the actuality of who he is unable to stay truly hidden. He’s like one of thosejump-scare portraits that people decorate their houses with at Halloween – from one angle it’s a reputable gentleman, but from the other it’s a hideous zombie with evil eyes and a blood-smothered grin. There is no disintegrating portrait hidden in Hudson’s attic. I can see the cracks just fine from here.
“It’s whathewants,River,” Hudson says, bringing me back to the present. “Surely you’re not so selfish as to deprive him of that before heleaves.”
He raises his eyebrows as if prompting me to respond so, shuffling back a little, I say quietly, “Tate wouldn’t want this,” although now I’m not so sure. Everything is adding up.
I wish that it wasn’t.
Hudson blows out a breath as if exasperated, shooting it upwards and making a few of his blond tendrils flutter above his forehead. “This is exactly what he wants. He wants me to help you, and by doing this you’re helping him, so stop being a bitch about it. It’s what was always going to happen. Me and Tate… we share everything.”
And just like that, the last dime drops.
We share everything.
The exact same words that Tate said to me not that long ago, almost as if it were a blood-pact motto. Tate hadn’t sounded so happy about it at the time, but then what do I really know about Tate? What do I really know aboutanything? So what if I’ve been pining for him from my bedroom window since the day that he first moved in? That doesn’t mean jack shit. Obviously boys lie, and they’re damn good at doing it.
I’ve been played, and I need to exit this gamenow.
But before I can rise to my feet Hudson shoves his hand into my clavicle and my head smashes down against the bench underneath me, whacking with a horrible loud thudding sound. The back of my head is throbbing, and my blood is pumping so wildly that I can hear it in my ears.
I lift up onto my elbows but it’s too late because Hudson has already ripped a gash in the fabric of my tights and his hand is now clawing at the material around my crotch.
My entire face blanches of any colour as I lift one hand to my mouth, shaking uncontrollably at the sight of what he’s about to do, what he is doing, what he has done-
I feel one finger push into my body and I squeeze my eyes shut at the burn and the sting.What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, no, no, no-
No good feeling comes from the intrusion, and instead I feel sore, dry, and then totally numb. It doesn’t feel like how I expected, and it isnothinglike what they say in the books that I have read. I think about the steamy dark romances that I have stacked up in my bedroom and how I’m going to bin every single one of them as soon as I get home. There is no joy in this moment. There is no desire, there is no lust. All that I feel is dead inside.
