She definitely has a knack for provoking me. When she says things like that, I could forget all my resolutions and accept the challenge she represents. Suddenly, the prospect of fucking her doesn't seem so pointless anymore.
I'm about to respond when a clap of thunder loud enough to shake the windows in their frames causes the electrical network to trip, plunging the house into darkness. The music stops to the protests of those present. A guy calls out in a booming voice, "Don't panic, we'll get everything back up and running! In the meantime, drinks are on the house!"
Cheers rise up and a crowd surges toward the living room.
I sense Alabama's presence right next to me. Without thinking, I grab her arm and pull her along with me. It's only when we're outside on the covered porch that she breaks free from my grip:
"What the hell are you doing?" she yells over the roaring rain pounding the roof above our heads. I look down at her. Her face is intermittently lit by the lightning that splits the clouds. Her beauty hits me like a high-speed train, and all I can do is swallow while searching for words. Frustrated, she says, "It's not that your good company bores me, but I'm going to head back inside."
She turns around, but I catch her again. "Come on, I'll take you back to the dorm."
"Why would I follow you?"
"Do what you want, but the power won't come back on anytime soon and this party is going to take a bad turn. Besides, I'm sure you're tired after last night."
"Do you think it's a good idea to remind me how much of an asshole you were to me yesterday?" she asks. I release her and she turns to look me straight in the eyes. I read the reproaches she doesn't voice. At this point, I feel like a real jerk for treating her that way.
Without thinking, I put my hands in my pockets. "Do you want to go home or not?" I ask. Reaching up, I pull off my Jaguars hat I’m wearing and offer it to her. “Keeps the rain off.”
She scrutinizes me as if she's trying to read my thoughts. "I suppose that's the closest thing to a kind act coming from you," she finally says.
"I'm not a good guy, Alabama." I don't know why I'm telling her this. Maybe I need her to follow me with her eyes wide open.
She gives a small bitter laugh. "You think I hadn't noticed that?"
17
DIXIE
I don't knowwhy I finally agreed to go back to the dorm with Player. During the rainy journey, I kept lecturing myself. But despite how he treats me like I have the plague, I'm drawn to him. So much so that I don't even think about taking his hat off and giving it back to him when we arrive. We're both soaked, standing in the middle of the common room. The entire floor seems deserted.
Lightning streaks across the sky outside, illuminating Player's face as he stands close to mine. His gaze lingers on my mouth, and I feel my lips part in invitation.
Thunder rumbles and I jump in surprise.
"Don't tell me you're afraid of thunderstorms, Alabama?"
I don't know if he's trying to hurt me, but his voice isn't sharp or mocking. The power is still out, and obviously, it's not about to get fixed anytime soon.
"This really is a crappy night," I sigh.
Player snickers quietly. "And I haven't even done anything to you yet."
My throat goes dry. What's he thinking now? I've learned the hard way that Player can be inventive when it comes to torturing me. Without warning, he leans toward me. I shouldmove away from him, run as far as possible, but I can't. Simply because my body completely contradicts my mind, I still feel this unspeakable desire eating away at me as effectively as acid.
Player stops just shy of my lips before declaring, "OK, I'll do it."
My heart skips a beat before racing again. Player is about to surrender, he's finally going to kiss me and...
Suddenly, the lights come back on in the room and I'm facing a stone-faced Player. On my end, it's pure chaos, my hands are clammy, my panties are on fire, and I must be as red as an overcooked lobster.
The flash of understanding that crosses his face doesn't escape me, he's read me like an open book.
"Oh, Alabama..."
His condescending tone grates on my nerves and I jump back before taking a few steps across the room while removing my wet clothes.
My exasperating roommate undresses silently, but he doesn't approach me. He just stares at me in silence while I try to sort through my thoughts. Except no matter how hard I try, I can't control myself—nothing makes sense or follows logic since Player wormed his way into my head.
