The Boy I Once Hated: Love & Hate Duet

Sixteen years old

The day starts off just like any other, with the same stares, the same whispers following me everywhere I go.

Everything’s monotonously the same, even in its loathsomeness.

The only thing different is that I’ve purposely forgotten my textbook in English so that I’ve no choice but to run back to the classroom to grab it during my free period. It’s the only hail mary I could come up with to give myself a reprieve from my abhorrent high school life.

I open the door to slip in, breathing a sigh of relief when I don’t see anyone there, grateful to have at least thirty minutes of complete solitude where I don’t feel like I’m being judged or ridiculed.

But as I head towards the back of the classroom to get my book, I hear it.

The heavy, familiar panting. One that has been haunting my dreams since the first time I heard it.

My own breath is coming out in gasps, and my cheeks flush as I turn towards the supply closet where the sound is coming from.

I should walk away. I really should.

But listening to Noah get off…makes it impossible.

I tiptoe towards the closet, my heartbeat thumping in my ears. Heat builds in my insides for reasons I don’t want to think about.

Whoever he’s with must have been in a hurry, because the door’s cracked, like they’d thrown it closed in desperation to get their clothes off and not checked to make sure it had actually latched. I know that Noah isn’t shy when it comes to flaunting his sexcapades, but not all girls are as adventurous. Curiosity gets the best of me as to who he’s with, making me slowly walk closer to the door just to have a better view of what’s going on inside the closet. Not that my imagination hasn’t planted a pretty picture in my head already.

It doesn’t take me too long to see who he’s chosen to drag into the only classroom I feel at home in.

Stacy Monroe.

Her face is flushed, and her hair is falling out of its usually perky raven ponytail. He has her bent in half over a lone desk in the closet, his hand on her throat as he slides forward. His teeth are gritted and there’s a fine sheen of perspiration on his forehead. But that’s not what has my heart in a twist. It’s the fact that he looks almost bored. As if he’s just going through the motions. His body might be here in this dark room doing all the right things, but Noah is nowhere to be found.

Meanwhile, Stacy is making all sorts of noises fit for a porno audition.

I wonder who came on to who today. Last time I heard they were on the outs. Guess not so much now. Still I can’t help but wonder why her? Why Stacy? When there are a million girls available to him, why is she who he always ends up going back to.

I watch for a long moment, my insides writhing. Stacy’s hand sweeps out and knocks a stapler off the table and I jump, backing into the desk behind me, filling the room with a loud screech. They both freeze, and I panic, turning and sprinting towards the door. I don’t stop sprinting until I get to the bathroom, hearing the door open down the hall as I slip inside.

I don’t think he saw me…but what if he had?

What would he do to keep me quiet?

And then there’s the fact he’s already labeled me as a stalker. If he saw me, actually pulling a Peeping Tom on him, it’s sure as shit not going to help my defense.

I feel…hot…and bothered as I slip into a stall, my hands still trembling as I debate perhaps never leaving.

But when the bell rings a half hour later, like the studious person I am, I drag myself out of the stall and back into the real world. Thankfully Noah is nowhere to be seen when I come out to join the stragglers who haven’t made it to class yet.

It’s going to be fine, he didn’t see you, I chant in my head.

The period passes uneventfully, but then it’s lunchtime. I’ve made a habit of bringing my lunch every day so I can disappear into the library in peace. But today of all days, we didn’t have any food in the house to make lunch.

And I’m starving.

I think about just not eating, but then that makes me angry because the only reason I wouldn’t be eating is because of Noah. And why should I let him keep me from that? I decide I’ll slip into the cafeteria and grab some food. And then slip out.

Easy peasy.

I make it to the food line and pay for my food before I see Noah. Or rather…before he accosts me. I’ve just stepped out of the lunch line when he grabs me by the back of the hair and pushes me against the wall, uncaring who watches.

‘Tell me, little stalker. Were you in the English room today?’ he murmurs, his eyes locked with mine, one hand still tangled in my hair while the other one is lightly pressing against my neck.

My gaze drags around the room, my eyes begging for someone to help me.

Is anyone going to step in? Where are any of the teachers? Is everyone just going to let Noah manhandle me like this and not say a goddamn word?

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I hiss. ‘Now get off me.’

‘I don’t think you want to know what I’m capable of when I’m really angry,’ he answers calmly, the burning in his eyes belying his tone.

It’s only when I catch a glimpse of a familiar caring face that I smirk right in his face.

‘And I think that you should get your hand off my neck before Mr. Evans comes over here and does it for you.’

Noah’s teeth clench, but he takes a step back, just in time for our Algebra teacher to timidly appear.

‘Everything okay over here?’ he asks, his gaze bouncing off the both of us in equal measure.

Noah shoots him an annoyed look and stomps off with not so much as a reply, while I stand there shaking in my chucks.

‘Everything’s fine,’ I murmur with the fakest of smiles.

“Are you sure?” he questions further, not entirely convinced.

I nod and quickly pass him by, rushing to leave this godforsaken cafeteria, food be damned.

As I pass Noah’s table, I distinctly hear the word “stalker”, Stacy shooting me an ugly glare.

Looks like things are going to get worse before they can get better.

But they have to get better.

Right?

This can’t be how I live the rest of my highschool years. It just can’t be.

I won’t let it.

Unfortunately by nightfall, something comes over me and all thoughts of sweet retribution evaporate from my mind.

After finishing one of my smutty romance books, I feel more restless than usual, unable to fall asleep. All I can think about is the sight of Noah today. In that supply closet. The tension in his jaw, in his shoulders…the sound that came out of him. Had he actually been making her feel good, or was he just getting off because he needed the release? Because he was so bored, he needed something… anything… just to feel alive?

I find my hand trailing down my stomach, inside the band of my underwear.

My eyes close as I begin to imagine it was me bent over that desk. That it was me he’d been pushing his punishing dick inside.

I’d never done this before, fumble around to try and ease the ache in my core.

But then again…I’d never had an ache like this before Noah stepped into my life.

My fingers move through my folds, trying to find the sweet spot. And all the while I imagine it’s Noah’s hands touching me. It’s me causing him to make those sounds. A moan slips from my lips as it starts to feel good—

“Well…what do we have here?” murmurs Noah as my door suddenly flings open.

It’s late at night, everyone else in the house has long since gone to bed.

I squeak and immediately yank my hand out of my underwear. But that only makes it more obvious what I’ve been trying to do.

Noah steps into my room and closes the door behind him. I can see his features outlined in the moonlight streaming through my window.

“Get out,” I whisper-yell, not wanting to wake anyone else up.

“Not a chance of that.” I can see his smirk even in the dim lighting of the room. “I want you to finish what you were doing, little stalker.”

My cheeks flush because I’ve been hoping he somehow missed what I’ve been doing. He prowls towards my bed, lounging at the foot of it like this is an everyday occurrence.

“Go ahead, Sky. Finish what you started. I dare you.”

There’s a challenge in his voice, and his words, obviously, and it must do something to my head because…I take his dare.

I slide my covers down so he can clearly see my hand push under my underwear. The heat of his gaze makes it even more obscene. I’m suddenly much more aware of the ache between my legs, my breath, the beating of my heart.

And how much I wish it was his hand making me come.

My fingers begin to press on my clit, the feeling foreign and kind of wrong. Maybe in time I’ll be an expert at this…but right now…

“You were picturing me fucking you, weren’t you, little stalker?” Noah purrs all of a sudden. And a fucking moan slips from my lips. “You were picturing it was my dick sliding between those legs. I bet your pussy’s the tightest I’d ever feel. There’s no way anyone’s been in there yet.”

I should kick him out, slap him in the face for what he’s saying. But the sound of his voice and his mean, dirty words are acting as tinder for the fire building inside me.

“Is this the first time you’ve touched yourself? Or did you come home after that day in the restaurant and make yourself come? You’re obsessed with seeing me get off…of imagining it was you…aren’t you?”

He purrs the words and a soft moan slips from my lips. “You’re delusional if you think you could ever make me come,” I whisper, trying to hold on to some sort of dignity.

“Oh really. Then who are you thinking about right now?” he taunts as my fingers start to move faster across my clit.

“Kyle.”

His name escapes from my lips. Probably because he’s the only one I’ve actually had an interaction with where I haven’t been insulted.

Noah rears back briefly before quickly recovering.

“I don’t want to hear that asshole’s name come out of your mouth again,” he growls.

I would have been thrown off my game, but his thumb has started lightly rubbing my ankle and it’s distracting me from the fluent ‘asshole’ coming out of his mouth.

“Hmm…” I muse, slightly out of breath as I continue to touch myself. It feels good…but I can’t quite reach where I’m desperate to get to.

I’ve crossed the line…no, I’ve crossed the fucking wall. And there’s no way Noah and I are leaving this moment without me getting an orgasm out of it.

Noah would get far too much satisfaction from leaving me wanting.

His hand suddenly grips my ankle tightly and I squeak in surprise. “You think Kyle could make you come? You think he could leave you dripping? Leave you screaming his name?”

The sound of his voice is the sexiest soundtrack I could have playing, quite honestly.

“Answer me!”

“No,” I whimper as the heat flares inside me once again.

“Good girl.”

Another moan comes out because Noah Fontaine calling me ‘good girl’ is almost more than I can stand.

“Say it again.”

It’s official. I’ve lost my mind. I’m lost in lust, drunk on the feeling of power I have from Noah’s attention focused on me like this. And God how I hate him for it.

But I’ve never wanted anything more.

“Oh…you like being my good girl,” Noah murmurs, while his hand slides up my leg. I press on my clit harder. But something’s still missing.

His hand keeps going until his fingers are running along the seam of my panties. My breath is literally coming out in gasps with the anticipation of what he’ll do. My fingers have stopped playing with my clit.

“Did I say you could stop?”

I write about my characters having ‘big dick energy’, but I realize at this moment that I’ve never understood exactly what that even meant before now. The term equalled Noah. I’m quite sure there is no one else that could hold my attention like this. Have my heart beat desperate for every word that comes out of his mouth.

His finger pushes under the edge of my underwear, until he’s grazing my sensitive skin. “Admit it,” he says softly, his finger moving slightly back and forth.

“What?—” I swear the air is glittering around us. I didn’t recognize my surroundings.. or myself. He has me under some kind of spell.

“Admit you wanted it to be you that I was fucking today.”

I grit my teeth, shaking my head as his finger surges up and brushes my soaking wet slit.

“I’ll give you what you want, little stalker. All you need to do is ask. No. Beg.”

“Stop calling me that,” I growl, my fingers moving feverishly again. Desperate to get there…before he makes me get there.

“Isn’t it fitting, though? You always watching me when I’m about to come. Kind of seems fair that I get to watch you right now…doesn’t it?”

“It was all by accident…I assure you.” My voice is breathless, and I moan again as it starts to feel really, really good.

Noah slips his fingers out from my panties and I pathetically whimper. Which only makes the cocky jerk smile harder. The effect is dazzling, and I find myself taking a mental picture of it and wishing I could keep it forever.

“Don’t worry, little stalker. I’ve got you,” he whispers, his gaze focused on my face, an almost confused expression replacing his smug grin.

I want…more. Even though everything inside of me is saying I’m not ready.

‘Give me your hand,’ he growls, and without thinking, I slide my fingers to meet his. He moves my fingers until they’re hitting the right spot, feeling far better than my earlier pathetic attempts. His hand stays on top of mine as he slowly moves my fingers over my clit, finding the perfect rhythm, doing his utmost best not to touch me. Leaving it completely up to me. There’s nothing but the sound of our breaths in the room.

I’m getting close, far closer than I was before. It’s building inside of me, and everything in me hates that it’s focused on…him. It’s his glittering eyes that I’m staring into, it’s his golden hair that I’m wishing my hands could touch. It’s his full lips that mine long for.

‘That’s it, little stalker. Give it to me.’

My eyes start to flutter shut as I make it to the precipice. ‘Look at me,’ he snaps, and they immediately fly open, like he’s the puppet master holding my strings.

His lips are curled arrogantly, and I gasp as I finally fall over the edge, more pleasure than I could ever comprehend coursing through my body. Our eyes are locked the entire time, but as soon as I finish, as soon as my pulse starts to slow, and my breathing regains some dignity, he’s off the bed like it’s burned him.

‘It’s a funny thing, Sky,’ he purrs as he stands by the door, a huge tent in the front of his pants.

‘What? What’s funny?’ I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

‘You’ve probably never been kissed and yet you’re going to think of me every time you get off for the rest of your life because I’m the one who gave you you’re first orgasm. Like I said. It’s a funny thing to think about.’

With that, he winks at me and then strides out of the room like he didn’t just carve a hole in my aching chest.

I lay there on the bed, disgust and shame running through me like a river. My panties are wet, and there’s a tingly feeling in my veins.

I don’t fall asleep that night, dreading every second that will bring me closer to seeing his smug face again.

It’s the afternoon, and the day has actually gone…smoothly. For the most part, I’ve been ignored, something I’d started to long for, which I used to hate. The bell rings, and I’m walking out of class when I see him.

Kyle.

He strides towards me with a huge black eye. His gaze is locked on mine the entire time.

People are whispering around me, and I find myself frozen in place.

Kyle walks right up to me.

‘What happened to you?’ I gasp, my hand reaching up tentatively as if I’m actually going to touch his face, before I remember myself and hastily drop it down.

‘What do you think happened?’ he retorts.

It takes me a second, until my eyes flick over Kyle’s shoulder, and I see Noah standing at the end of the hallway, surrounded by his usual adoring crowd.

Noah.

Noah did this. But why?

‘I don’t understand. I thought you were…friends?’

I guess at least as close as anyone is friends with Noah. When you’re a king, I’m not sure you’re ever friends with the people you think are beneath you.

‘Evidently, Fontaine has a problem with me talking to his stepsister.’ The word stepsister comes out in a mocking tone, and I flinch, thinking of what happened last night. And thinking of what would happen, and what people would say if anyone ever found out what happened in my bedroom last night.

That’s all I need. I’m pretty sure that rumor would eventually find its way back to my mother, and I couldn’t imagine the look on her face if she heard it.

Thankfully, Kyle continues on as if I’m not having a panic attack in front of him.

‘Too bad for him, I recognize gold when it’s in front of me,” he murmurs. Kyle brushes a piece of hair out of my face and slides it behind my ear, winking at me with his good eye before he strides past like he hasn’t just dropped that bomb.

I’m feeling a bit lightheaded when I glance down the hallway, and Noah and I lock stares.

There’s a warning in his gaze that should terrify me. But it’s offset by the memory of the heat in his eyes last night. The way I held him captive there.

As if he can read my mind, he grabs Stacy next to him, and smashes his lips against hers. She immediately melts against him, and something that suspiciously feels like betrayal shoots down my spine.

I force myself to look away, and I wander down the hallway as if I don’t have a care in the world.

And as I slip into class, there’s some sick satisfaction inside of me.

Because the entire time Noah was kissing her…he was looking at me.