Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
“Now take off that skirt.”
I jerk my head around. “What?”
He opens a drawer and retrieves a pair of ugly gray gym shorts. “You’ll change into these and wear them the rest of the school day.”
I catch the shorts when he throws them at me and wobble toward the door.
“Now, Miss Banks.”
“I’m not changing in front of you,” I spit.
“I don’t believe you’ll leave and put them straight on. Do it now. You can trust me. I’m not into little girls like Coach Long,” he snaps.
I’m so shocked by his words that I quickly unhook my skirt and let it fall to the floor. His eyes dart to my black panties. I yank up the shorts to end his peep show.
“You’ll stay in that class for now,” he says in a soft tone. “But I’ll look into some therapist referrals.” He frowns and shakes his head. “You clearly do need help. Wearing little skirts to school to seduce your teachers is unhealthy.” His hand grips my shoulder. “But we’re going to get you better, sweetheart.”
Tears leak down my cheeks and I bolt from his office. It isn’t until I’m halfway to Everett’s class that I stop to swipe my tears and understand what just happened. I feel icky inside. What just happened was wrong. This felt completely different than the natural attraction between Everett and me.
“Nice to see you could grace us with your presence, River,” Everett barks from the front of his classroom. His back is to the class as he writes formulas on the board. Several students snigger at my horrible outfit while I all but run to take my seat. As soon as I sit down, the backs of my thighs sting where Mr. Polk swatted me with his ruler. At the memory, more tears well in my eyes. I can’t focus on Everett’s lecture because my mind is spinning.
Should I tell someone what happened?
Would they even believe me after my past?
I’m confused and upset. I spend the rest of the period locked in my head. When the bell rings, I’m jolted from my thoughts.
“River,” Everett barks from his desk behind me. “See me after everyone leaves.”
Once the classroom empties out, I stand and make my way to his desk. My eyes are cast downward. I want to tell Everett but he’ll probably tell me I seduced Mr. Polk like I seduced him. Shame infects me and bile rises in my throat.
“Detention isn’t the end of the world,” he says in a gruff tone.
He swivels around in his chair to face me, a frown of concern painting his features. My heart clenches in my chest as stupid tears form again.
“Hey,” he says softly. “What’s wrong?”
I shrug and my bottom lip wobbles.
“You upset over a dress code violation?” He motions to the ugly gray shorts I’m wearing. The entire time with Mr. Polk floods through me and I burst into tears. “Emo, talk to me. What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”
“It was my fault.”
He scowls and stands, towering over me. “What was your fault?”
“My skirt was too short.”
“What was your fault?”
“I didn’t know it would be such a problem. I thought it was cute.”
“What was your fault?”
“It hurt.”
His strong hands cup my face and he tilts my face up to look at him. “What hurt?” He looks positively furious but I feel compelled to tell him, even if he yells at me. I trust him.
“The licks.”
Confusion twists his features up and the muscle in his neck twitches. “What are you talking about?”
“The spankings with the ruler. For dress code violation.” I start to cry again.
He looks so angry I wonder if he wants to slap me. I probably deserve it. His thumb is gentle though when he swipes away my tear. “Did Polk hurt you?”
“I deserved it.”
I’m pulled against him in a surprisingly fierce hug. He strokes my hair and kisses the top of my head. I’m so confused. Why isn’t he mad at me?
“I’m going to fucking kill him. I will murder him with my bare hands,” he snarls against my hair.
This only makes me cry harder because, for once in my life, someone seems to believe me. For once, I feel like I have someone on my team. He releases me and regards me with a tender expression. “Are you okay? Tell me everything.”
I sniffle and explain to him the entire meeting. I even confess about my past—how I told him a glorified version. Then, I tell him about the spankings and undressing in front of Mr. Polk. By the time I’m finished, I’m afraid the vein that is bulging in his neck is going to explode.
“Oh, River,” he says in a soft, regretful tone. He hugs me once more before pulling away and the angry scowl is painted on his face again. “Come on.”
When he stalks toward the door, I jolt into action. “Don’t you have class?”