"Jake, wh-what are we doing here?" We were walking down a dark alley, sadly, one I knew well. It was dark and cold, and I found myself pressing closer to him, even though I was upset with him. "I-I thought you were done with drugs." He'd stopped because I'd asked him to, or so he'd said. I knew he still did them, every once in a while, but never around me. I hated when he did this. He knew I hated being here. I dig my feet into the concrete, pulling on his arm. "Babe, can't I just wait out here?"
"You don't trust me."
"It's not that! ...It's just...tonight?" Why does he always make bad choices when I’m around? I thought he liked it when I kept him from doing the bad things? Quite frankly, I just don’t know about him anymore…
He pulls me to him, "You wanna go someplace else?" I nod weakly. "We'll have fun, I promise." He smirks, pushing me against the wall. I swallow, staring at his hungry eyes, their dark blue color turned to black. "Just damn, baby, you're the only drug I need..." He kisses my neck, causing my nerves to spike, making it impossible to speak, to tell him to stop. But this…wasn’t what I wanted…
“Jake…” I whined breathlessly, "s-stop!" I was terrified, in all honesty. He’s never been rough with me, never tried anything with me, because we’d had an agreement, an understanding…I wasn’t ready… "Quit it...!" Trying to push him off only makes him more aggressive. The bricks of the wall dig into my back sharply as he angles me more intensely to his liking. He pins my arms above my head with one hand, grip firm, while his other hand creeps up my dress. His fingers slide slowly up my inner thigh, causing me to whimper, but fight to stay strong. His lips crash onto mine in such a hold that I couldn’t pull away. It wasn’t a friendly kiss, either, but one just as hungry as his eyes were.
I was held in the perfect hold, arms pinned by his, legs pinned by his, face pinned by his…there was nothing I could do to stop him from unzipping the side of my dress. Luckily for me, I didn’t have to stop him. Someone did for me. One second, we were in our previous position, and the next thing I know, he’s off me and I’m slung on the back of a motorcycle, speeding away. I lean into the driver’s back, tears only then beginning to spill. Through the blur, I see familiar blond hair and smile gratefully at myself, curling farther into him and masking everything I’m feeling with the scent that just simply is Luke Hemmings.
When we pull into the driveway, he parks the bike and walks us to the door. He holds me to him and helps me walk as I cry and sob into him. At the sound of the door, the boys jump to their feet. They take us in and fire their concern. “What happened?!” Ashton freaks, rushing to us. Luke shoves him away. “Later,” he tells them, rushing the two of us up to my room. He goes straight to the bed and leans back against the headboard, trying to hold me to him. I slip from his grasp and walk shakily to the bathroom. There's dirt smears, bruises, and tears on me here and there, but I ignore all that as i slip absentmindedly out of my clothes and step into the shower. I stand there just letting the cold water sprinkle down on my body, doing nothing to wake me up, like I had hoped. So I turn the water off and step out of the tub with a sigh.
I stand in the middle of the room with my towel wrapped around me, and I just stand there. I try to avoid he mirror, but it was no use. My eyes find the glass and catch the reflection standing in there. What I see makes my crying start all over again. I have no actual tears left, but my tear-stained face gets all burning red hot and sticky again. I sniffle, scream, beat my fists against the wall over and over again, tug at my hair, sink to the floor in a crouch. The door opens and Luke pulls me to my feet and walks me to the bed once more. I just sit there, and he soon slips off me and begins to pace around the carpet, something he probably never stopped doing the whole time I was in the shower. Then he stops, stops pacing, just sinks to his knees in front of the bed, head bent low and leaned against the mattress.
"Why?" That one little word is all he says, but his eyes say it all, looking up at me with shinning sadness and hurt. Why what, I don't know, but he continues, eyes changing to a blaze of fierce anger. "I'm so much better than him, Alisha! Why the hell would you even go back to him, after what he did? After what we did! I mean, he's not even good to you! To him, you're just some toy to play with when he's bored and out of options. For him, something far better will come along, and even that will eventually lose value, and he knows you'll be there waiting for him."
He's only speaking out of anger, but was he right? I hadn't seen it before, but Jake was always looking at other girls, sizing them up like prizes or something. But I thought I was his prize, his one and only. I didn't see us being together forever, but I thought we'd lose the romantic appeal, because I saw us more as friends, because that's what I thought we were, best friends. I was always there for him, but when I needed him, he was no where to be found, or had an excuse at the ready. He was never there, and after that night, at the party, things clicked together. There were always other girls, and I was just something when there wasn't anything better. He liked the things I wouldn't give him, so he got it from willing others. But tonight...I shutter at the thought, what was that?
And Luke...I've been seeing him with different eyes. None of the boys ever particularly liked Jake, and I knew they hated me hanging around him even more, but I thought that was because I was "with the enemy" or something dramatic like that. Now, I see they were just trying to protect me. They didn't want me getting hurt, because they knew I would. If only I could have seen sooner...All the signs are there, I see them now, but it's far too late. What hurts the most, I think, is knowing now who's really been there for me. All this time, and I only treated him like trash...
Lost in thought, I sat staring at the wall. I shift my gaze to look down at him. My fingers were absentmindedly sifting through his hair while he just sat there, still as stone, noticeably uncomfortable, yet afraid to move, because he was all too unsure of what he should do. I've done this to him, to us...Wait, "Your hair," I slightly laugh, a crazy hollow sound. I'm just now realizing it was slightly shorter than before, and the front was dyed blue. His face turns fidgety with nerves and his head dips lower. I out my hand under his chin and lift his head so I can look at all of him, and not just his eyes. I catch a glint of something. A lip ring? "Why?" This didn't seem much like Luke. He likes punk music, plays in a rock band even, but has never been physically punk nor rock himself. Why was he suddenly showing so much change in himself?
"The truth is so not what you want from me right now." He sits next to me on the edge of the bed. He lets out a harsh sigh, staring down at his twiddling fingers. "I was mad and worried about you at the same time. I couldn't just sit here and do nothing, so I left the house to cool off, hopefully get you off my mind. One thing was clear to me. That thing you said, about piercings...If it helps him...That's where I went. I wasn't following you, but God, was I tempted to...I was just in the right place at the right exact moment."
"No Luke, you've always been there. I see that now. I'm just sorry it's taken this long for me to see everything so clear. Maybe things could have been different."
"I've wished for that, too--you don't know how much I have--but there's no changing what's happened. But he'll be sorry it did."