Foster kids were notorious for having heart-wrenching stories. Life in the system messed plenty of people up. I, on the other hand, was adopted at such a young age, I could hardly remember my short years of being neglected and unwanted. I was an orphan, a foster kid only by a technicality. I didn't have thick skin or street smarts. What I had were two dads, a security team, a couple of private tutors, and enough pets to
start a zoo. I had all of those things until I moved to Massachusetts to go to Cook Academy.
On my own, I could only pretend to be knowledgeable and inept in the workings of the world.
Detention number 3 started like usual. I showed up only to find Don and Henry waiting for me. Minutes later, Henry left. But that time around, I had decided to avoid Don as best I could.
"Ok, so yesterday could have gone better," he said, not even sitting in his seat.
Don was at the front of the room, drawing doodles on the chalkboard.
"I'm not talking to you," I said, admittedly contradicting myself already.
"Come on; yesterday was fun... up until the very end. And I brought you back. No one got into any more trouble," he argued.
"I think you're crazy," I said.
"Everyone is crazy sometimes," he reasoned while putting down the chalk and turning around to face me, still at a distance.
He drew what looked like a giant dick being cut in half by a Ninja star. It was both impressively detailed and grotesque for a 5minute drawing.
"I think we should go out," Don said, crossing the room to approach me.
I was seated for a while, but when he started to enter my personal space, I stood up so I could take steps back.
"I think we could have some fun," he went on while actively following me around the room.
Though we never ran or moved faster than a slow walk, his constant pursuit made the moment tense.
"I think if you don't say anything, I'll have to tell people that you're gay," he threatened.
I finally felt the wall behind my back, meaning I didn't have anywhere left to back step.
"So now you're blackmailing me?" I asked.
"No... well, maybe just a little," he joked.
Don must have thought he was a comedian. He liked to laugh at his own sense of humor, but he was intense. He was aggressive. As I stood cornered, he remained only minor steps away from me. It would have been creepy had he been older, taller, or scarier looking.
"We just met two days ago," I argued while he took micro-steps closer.
"We have to spend 14 days together. Might as well make the most of it," he tried to reason with me as he finally closed enough space between us for our shoes to touch.
"So you want to date me to pass the time," I asked.
"When you say it like that, it kinda sounds bad, but yeah. That's the idea," Don admitted.
Had he been ugly, had he been mean, had he been anything else, I might have punched him in the gut. But Don wasn't ugly. The red-haired maniac took off my glasses and slid them into my pocket. I could taste his breath while he kept me trapped there.
I never had a boyfriend or girlfriend before. Was that how normal people got into relationships, or was Don legitimately crazy? Was I being too much of a prude? It was my own fault. I kissed him the day before. I had to; otherwise, he would never have led me back to school. Regardless, I did it. I gave in to one demand, and it seemed Don had a list ready to follow.
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"No," I pushed him so I could step away.
He raised his hands as if to imply he wouldn't touch me, but he already had.
"What else are you gonna do," he argued.
I left him at the back wall while I went to stand at the chalkboard. My hormones were screwing with me too much. Don was obviously mental, but a part of me was stupid enough almost not to care. That part of me was probably my dick. It was definitely my dick. Cook Academy, with all its schedules, planning, rules, and roommates, made it impossible to satisfy my teenage needs the way I used to at home.
"This room will drive you crazy. The quiet, the smell, the time tick tick ticking away.
You won't last," He said.
"I'm not dating you, "I made myself clear while putting back on my glasses.
"Then how about friends with the potential for benefits?" He offered, but I quickly said,
"No."
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