Who am I?
Who am I?
“Who. Are. You?” she asks loudly, forcing me into a corner.
My eyes burn as tears fight their way down my cheeks.
“I—I don’t know who I am,” I whisper as I wipe away the tears, only for new ones to roll down my cheeks. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be here.”
I look away. Putting the most painful wound I have had into words makes me feel less. I want to hide. Run away.
“Then why are you here?” Jane asks and takes three steps towards me, backing me further into the corner of the restroom. Her voice is harsh. She doesn’t get it. She knows who she is. She has always known. She doesn’t get the mess I am.
“Because—“ I break off.
Why am I even here?
Because El told me to.
Because El said I have to do it.
Because El thinks I have feelings I need to explore.
But how do I tell Jane that? The professor? The organized, unmessy, and perfect Jane McKenzie? I don’t. It is wrong, and I shouldn’t be here.
“I’ll just go,” I say without looking at her, and get to the door, but before my hand touches the handle, she grasps me.
“You don’t get to run away this time,” she says.
This time.
Her touch electrifies me.
My eyes fly to her hand on my arm. I know how much she hates touch. But she touched me.
I can’t think properly anymore.
My gaze follows up to her eyes. Those beautiful eyes. The slightly parted lips.
“Don’t,” I say.
“WHY ARE YOU HERE?”
Her eyes are so intense, they look straight into my soul. It is the first time I see her real self. The one she hides behind the mask of perfectionism and order.
An image flashes through my mind. An image of me, grasping her, pushing her backward into the wall, kissing her, grasping her?—
Goosebumps spread over my arms.
And I just act.
I react so fast that there is nothing she can do. I remove my arm from her grip with a swirl and grasp hers, pull her to me, and then backward into the wall next to me with her arm above her head.
I press my body into her as my other hand cages her jaw, and my lips hover over hers.
“Because I want to do this,” I say, and my lips land on hers.
I push my left leg between her legs and roll my hips up as I kiss her—with tongue.
