Sparks feel like they're flying from the tips of my toes as Mark kisses me, but just as soon as I've fallen into his seduction, I pull away, wanting to slap myself. I raise my fingers to my lips, feeling where his lips were against mine. Mark is staring at me, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. For a moment, I think he might try to kiss me again, but after a second he shakes his head and shuts the door before walking around the car to get into the driver's seat. For a few seconds, neither of us says anything. We don't know what to say. The car becomes a stifling cocoon, filled with an uncomfortable silence. My heart pounds in my chest, and I struggle to catch my breath. The intensity of Mark's kiss still lingers on my lips, sending a jolt of confusion and desire through my veins. But as the haze of the moment begins to clear, a wave of guilt washes over me.
I turn my gaze towards the window, trying to compose myself. Thoughts race through my mind, my emotions colliding like a tumultuous storm. I had wanted this, hadn't I? The chemistry between us was undeniable, and I had allowed myself to succumb to the pull of his charm. But now, reality sets in, and I realize the consequences that could arise from giving in to such temptation.
I steal a glance at Mark, who appears lost in his own thoughts. The tension in the air is palpable, and it's clear that neither of us knows how to navigate this newfound complication in our friendship. Finally, I gather the courage to break the silence, my voice barely a whisper.
"Mark... I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen. It was a mistake." My words hang in the air, heavy with regret. I know I need to clarify my intentions, to salvage whatever semblance of normalcy remains between us. How can these boys expect me to be who they want me to be if I'm having a love affair with one of them?
Mark glances at me, his expression a mix of confusion and disappointment. "Faith, I... I don't know what to say. I'm the one who kissed you, remember? But I can agree, it was a mistake."
His response stings, a reminder that we're both equally responsible for this unexpected turn of events. I should have known better and should have anticipated the repercussions. I grip the edge of my seat, feeling the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.
"You're right," I say. "We both let things go too far. We can't let this ruin our working relationship." My voice quivers with a mixture of anxiety and determination. "We need to forget this happened and move on. It was just a momentary lapse of judgment."
Mark nods slowly, his eyes reflecting a mix of acceptance and resignation. "Yeah, you're right. We can't let this destroy what we intend to have. Let's just pretend it never happened and focus on the dance, yeah?"
"Right," I agree. "That's what matters most. The dance. Do you want to go back to the auditorium and practice some more?"
He shakes his head, and a swell of disappointment rises in my chest. "It's late," he says, and grumpy Mark is back. I don't like this Mark. I like the guy who kissed me. "I'm going to take you back to your dorm."
And so, he does. For the rest of the car ride back to campus, neither of us speaks, and I imagine that's for the better. I'm surprised when Mark parks his car at the front of the building and goes around to open my door for me. He doesn't say anything, but he offers his hand briefly and a shock of warmth travels down my arm before he lets it go.
"Have a good night," he mutters, and then he's gone, racing out of the parking lot like the world is on fire. I sigh and shake my head, then make my way to the room. It's getting late, I need to get some sleep … if I can refrain from thinking about Mark's kiss, anyway.
Lost in my thoughts, I push open the door to our dorm room without a second thought, only to freeze in my tracks as reality crashes down upon me. There, in the midst of tangled sheets, Tara and some naked guy I don't know come into focus, caught in a moment of intimate passion. Shock floods through me, my face burning with embarrassment as both of them take a second to glance towards the door.
"I-I'm so sorry!" I stammer, quickly backing out of the room. Tara laughs, but her fuck-buddy eyes me.
"Wanna join?" he asks, and I wrinkle my nose, slamming the door shut behind me as Tara punches him in the arm. My heart races, and I feel an overwhelming urge to scrub the image from my mind. The sounds of their pleasure still ring in my ears, a haunting echo of my inadvertent intrusion.
With a mixture of mortification and guilt—and maybe a little jealousy— I scurry away from the scene, my cheeks flushed crimson. I can't believe I walked in on them like that.
With a resigned sigh, I gather my book bag from where I'd accidentally dropped it on the floor and make my way to the communal lounge. It's not the ideal place to study, but it's the only refuge I have from the intense orgy unfolding in my own room. I settle into a chair, hoping to find solace amidst the cacophony of laughter and chatter around me. It's late, but that hasn't stopped a bunch of students from hanging out down here.
As I delve into my textbooks, my concentration is interrupted as a voice breaks through the background noise. I look up to find the guy I just saw a moment ago in my dorm, the guy I vaguely recognize as the one screwing my roommate. He's leaning against the table, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.
"Hey there, Faith," he says. His voice is low, but the smirk he wears turns me off at once.
"How do you know my name?" I demand, and his smirk grows bigger.
"I'm Xander," he says, offering his hand. I take it, but only briefly before dropping my hand back into my lap with an inward cringe. I don't know what it is with this guy, but he's kind of creeping me out. "Tara told me about you," he continues. "I heard you just joined the Renegades."
It takes me a moment to realize that he's talking about the guy's dance team.
"Oh, yeah. I did."
"You know, those guys you're dancing with... they're bad news." Xander leans down until he's just about a foot from my face. I smell cigarettes and beer on his breath. "You should be careful."
I raise an eyebrow, caught off guard by his unexpected comment. "What do you mean, bad news? We're just dance partners. They're a little asshole-ish sometimes, but that's it."
Xander leans in closer, his gaze intense. "Trust me, Faith. They're involved in some sketchy stuff. You don't want to be associated with them. I've seen things. Dangerous things."
His words send a chill down my spine, and I can't help but wonder if there's truth to his warning. However, I remain skeptical, unwilling to let paranoia dictate my actions.
"I appreciate your concern, Xander, but I think I can handle myself," I reply, trying to sound confident despite the unease creeping into my voice.
He studies me for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "You know, I have this dance team. We're looking for talented individuals. I think you'd fit right in."
I shake my head, declining his offer. "Thanks, but I'm already on a team, and I know they'll keep me busy."
Xander's expression darkens, his demeanor shifting from charming to threatening. He leans even closer, his voice low and menacing. "You sure about that, Faith? You wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you, would you? Think carefully before you reject my offer."
Fear courses through my veins as his words hang in the air. My heart races, and a lump forms in my throat. But even in the face of his intimidation, I'm determined to stand my ground. I take a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage within me.
"I appreciate the offer, Xander, but I'm not interested. And you can't scare me into changing my mind," I say, my voice trembling slightly. "I'm not one to be manipulated or threatened."
His eyes narrow, anger flickering across his face. But he straightens up, a twisted smile playing at the corners of his lips. "We'll see about that, Faith. Don't say I didn't warn you."