1 Flowers

My little flower girl's pigtails swing wildly as she skips alongside me, smiling at a lady and her labrador as they jog past. The woman grins right back at her, waving enthusiastically. Lily's face breaks out into a full-blown grin as she waves back. Despite being as shy as she is, Lily's always been so friendly, a trait that runs through my bloodline.

Looking down at my little girl, I squeeze her hand and ask her, "What are you going to do today?" The hundreds of freckles across her face meld together as her smile pushes against her chubby cheeks.

She exclaims, "Cars and paints! Oh and finger painting! And the sandpit!" Her silver eyes are filled with nothing but excitement as she stares up at me, excited to just be out of the house.

When we reach the sign for Sunshine Daycare, I know I'm about to have to let her go again. We get to the drop-off area and I let out a long breath, already dreading the remainder of my day without her. A day without her, whether I'm staring at a wall or on a Ferris wheel, means a day of hell.

"Hey, Lily! How are we doing today?" Gemma, one of the several staff members here, smiles widely at Lily as we enter the room, giving me a greeting wave.

"So, so good, Miss Gemma!"

In the book by the front door, I sign Lily in with the time, who is picking her up, and my signature. Before I leave I hug Lily tightly, not wanting to ever let her go. I remind her how much I love her and how much I'll miss her during the time we're apart, well aware that she is only five and couldn't really care less. However, she giggles hysterically as I smother her in kisses, right before one of her friends arrives and she runs off with him. Not yet able to make myself leave, I look after her, watching her run out to the sandpit with the little boy. They kick up sand at each other, giggling away.

Despite everything she goes through at home, despite who she comes from, she can still smile and play. It assures me that I'm doing at least something right.

I smile pleasantly at the mother of my daughter's friend as she signs in her son, and I say goodbye to Gemma before making my way to my own school.

It's barely a ten-minute walk. Even after going here for the last few years, I'm still torn on deciding whether it's a blessing or a curse to be so close.

It's a monumental effort to heave open the doors of the front school building and I can't help but grimace at the pain that surges up my arm, spiderwebbing through my chest. Before anyone looks my way, I pull the hood of my jumper low over my head, hoping the conceal my unbrushed hair and bruised jaw.

"Hey, ass-face!"

The aching in my chest becomes sharp as my heart takes off like a rocket. I keep my eyes trained on the ground, hoping that by some miracle if I can't see them they won't see me either. Seven years ago a single thought could have me disappearing and I often wish that were still the case.

"Hey, Aya! I'm talking to you!"

My heart beats fast enough that it skips a beat entirely as a hand wraps around my arm and yanks me backward. Black spots appear, clouding my vision as my feet attempt to find their footing. Once they do, I keep my eyes on them. I don't need to look up to know that the clammy hand belongs to Joshua Rhode. I don't bother hoping that a teacher will see. Being the son of the mayor's right-hand man in such a small town, even the staff tend to avert their eyes or steer clear of Joshua entirely.

Joshua's grip on my arm tightens, sending pain flaring up my body as he speaks, "Where are you off to, huh?"

I don't answer. Whether I answer or not our interactions always end the same.

He laughs at me, "What? Cat got your tongue?"

When my only response is to bite my lip, head beginning to pound, he shoves me against the lockers. My teeth almost go through my lip.

"Get out of here," he snarls, letting go of me to sling his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. As they walk away, Melissa smirks at me over her shoulder.

Relieved to be alone, I take a step away and finally look up from the floor, only to see Damon. Standing across the hall, just standing and staring. There's no emotion on his face, in his stance, nothing. He just stares at me, as if I were a stranger to him.

I forget about him quickly though as Melissa, from down the hall, calls out to me, "Go kill yourself, seriously. Does it look like anyone wants you?"

I don't have the courage to tell her that I agree with her. However, a certain sort of calmness fills me as I realize that my first-period classroom will be empty and silent, the first-period not starting for a few minutes yet.

Ignoring Damon, I make my way to the classroom and take my usual seat at the back corner of the room, the window to my right. I move my things from my ratty old bag to the windowsill as I thoroughly enjoy the silence, however brief it may be.

It's only a few minutes later that my peers begin to dribble in, bringing with them enough noise to raise the dead. Echoing through the room is the usual chatter and gossip that I pay minimal attention to, only enough to listen for my name. No one looks my way as they enter, another consequence of being plain and quiet. It hits a nerve every day, knowing that when I first blossomed I was actually fairly attractive. In fact, I was above average due to my heritage. My whole life plummeted when my mother died, leaving me with her second husband and his son.

As the last of my peers take their seats Ms. Knox strides in. The woman is a tall and attractive brunette that all the girls love. Most of the guys too, though only because the term 'MILF' exists. However, for reasons unknown to me, she absolutely hates my guts. She's the only teacher I have that doesn't like me and she doesn't even have a reason.

"Quiet everyone, quiet!" Ms. Knox repeats herself over and over, her heels clicking and clacking against the linoleum as she walks around to the front of her desk. She leans back on it, basically taking a seat and effectively allowing the front row to no doubt see beneath her dress.

"How were everyone's holidays?"

Receiving a chorus of positivity in return, she smiles. Most people went away or splurged in some sort of fashion. I wish I was still able to do that sort of stuff.

Ms. Knox looks down at her dress as she continues, "Okay, good. Well, it's about time we started our novel. I've tossed and turned between Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet but I think we're going to read the latter. Who doesn't love a good love story, right?" Laughter flutters throughout the room and she begins passing out the novels.

As they are passed back she keeps speaking, "Now, how many of you can tell me about the themes? Has anyone read it before?" I can't speak for everyone else, but I know I have, along with many other Shakespeare novels.

Turning my attention down to my notebook, I doodle another flower down the margin of the page. Lillies were Cassian's favourite. Every single day he'd water them and pull out any weeds from around them. Sometimes he'd just stare at them with this . . this unconditional love. He'd sit within them for hours, more blissful than I've ever seen anyone. He'd never pick them. Never. I told him once that love is not possession, it's appreciation. Although he only vaguely understood it, he held onto that quote like it was his life source. He had enough love to conquer the world. It was beautiful.

"Miss Humphreys!"

A line streaks across my page, ruining my doodles and putting a hole in the paper. Looking up, I find that everyone is staring at me.

Oh, Goddess. Ms. Knox looks pissed.

"Would you like to repeat what-" Ms. Knox halts mid-sentence as the classroom door opens. I thank every star in the sky for the existence of that boy and his perfect timing.

Damon smirks at the older woman, kicking the door shut behind him.

Why is he even late? He got here early for once.

"Mr. Cooper. What is your late reason this time?"

Although the woman reprimands him, she cannot seem to hide the glint in her eyes at seeing him. Practically every woman in the room has eyes on him. He isn't the most attractive guy in the school but there's no denying he's in the top five. That, and he's always had this 'bad-boy' charm. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't found him smoking hot since middle school.

"Had some stuff to do, miss," Damon drawls, his accent thick despite all the years he's been away from Texas. Although he visits the place once a year, I can't help but think it's weird that his accent hasn't yet softened.

Ms. Knox purses her lips and gestures for him to take his usual seat, three chairs down from mine. Almost instinctively, I'm leaning away from the wall and closer to him. Once he's seated Ms. Knox returns her attention to me. I curse beneath my breath.

"Since you clearly weren't listening, Miss Humphrey's, I will repeat myself. This will be a partnered project."

My heart stutters before it begins pounding against my ribcage, seemingly faster and faster with every breath. The pencil slips from my clammy hands as my body begins to warm. Every thought goes flying out of my head as I listen intently, praying to the Goddess that I don't get Joshua or his lackeys.

"All partners will write an essay each, about the theme of their choosing. They will also perform a skit to go with it. Your drama teachers and I are working together on this project, so this will count for sixty percent of your English grade and a quarter of your Drama grade."

My vision blurs. Oh, Goddess.

"Now, these are your partners." She reads off names two at a time and with every name she reads, a little more dread fills me. She announces that Jessica, one of Melissa's friends, is paired with Damon. She then announces that my partner is Joshua.

Terror replaces the dread, "No. No, no, no, no, no."

My vision disappears as tears blur my sight and my hands begin shaking. We're so rarely given class time to work on projects, meaning we have to work on them in our free time. Meaning, Joshua and I being alone.

I look up past Damon, who is already staring at me, to Joshua across the room. When my vision unblurs I can clearly see him looking at me, appearing both disappointed and happy. Slumping down in my chair, I pull my hoodie over my head until it covers my nose.

The rest of this year is going to be absolute hell.

Pulling my notebook down to my lap, I continue doodling flowers and tune out the remainder of the lesson.

When we're finally leaving for recess I make sure I'm the last out the door, hoping to avoid Joshua, Melissa, and their friends.

My hopes get stomped on. Outside the classroom, my bag is yanked off my shoulder, making my hood fall. I'm not surprised to see Joshua and his friends, although I am surprised that Melissa is nowhere to be seen.

"Listen here, Ass-ya," Joshua says, smirking at his mockery of my name. The urge to roll my eyes is strong enough that I have to bite my cheek to resist doing it. Bullies are almost never intelligent and Joshua lives up to that, having always been more brawn than brains.

"We're partners for the term now. So there are some things you're gonna have to do now," he tells me, unzipping my bag. I lunge for it, only to receive violence in return. The shove has me hitting the ground, tailbone barking in pain, and tears springing forward.

He smirks at me, "What's in here then?"

This is torture. He knows already. He's known for over three years now.

He pulls out the lacy underthings that he sees and tears off me multiple times a week. His friends erupt in laughter as Joshua stuffs them back into my bag and squats in front of me, tossing my bag across the crowded hall.

I'm used to no one giving a shit, but why does no one give a shit?

"Listen here, whore. You're gonna write both our essays and we're gonna practice some scenes together tonight," he tells me, his tongue running over his top teeth.

Leaning in close, he lowers his voice so that only I can hear him, "I'll see you and that sexy ass later tonight, won't I?"

At least he has some dignity, I suppose. Not wanting his friends to know that he cheats on Melissa with me of all people.

When I don't respond he looks around the corridor, finding that everyone has left for recess, so he orders his friends to make themselves scarce as well. Once we're alone his hand shoots out to grip my jaw, the hall light shining off his Rolex and into my eyes. Finally, I respond with a nod. In return, he smirks and he goes to say something, only for another voice to sound.

"Let go of her."

Joshua whips around, his hand leaving my face. I don't have to see who the voice belongs to, I already know. I could pick his whispers out of a screaming crowd.

Joshua snarls at him and throws a glance my way before stalking down the hall and out of sight.

Damon doesn't take a step closer, however, he also doesn't take one away.

He asks me, his voice strong and rough, "Are you okay?"

The fact that he's here, talking to me . . I almost want to hug him here and now. Or ask him if he could ever forgive me.

Damon picks up my bag and brings it over to me, handing it to me with a blank face. I shrug it onto my shoulders and tighten the straps, making it harder for anyone to just yank it off me.

"Thanks."

I don't stay a moment longer, still not trusting myself around him.

*_*_*_*

From across the room, Don captures my attention, waving. I slow my swinging movements on the pole, following his hand as he points towards one of the furthest booths. I know who sits within it, as it's permanently reserved for my most regular client.

Holding in a sigh, I follow the business owner's order, waving a discrete goodbye to Amber. She giggles loudly, a fake one, slowing enough on her own pole to wave back. Within half a second she gets back to work, making kissing faces at her small audience as she hangs upside down on her pole. The woman is naturally gorgeous but with the baby oil smeared over her and under these lights, she looks radiant. She's also the only woman in the building wearing more than a skimpy pair of underwear. Perks of being Don's fiance I guess.

Joshua stands when I reach his booth, pinching my non-existent ass. His eyes are bright, almost pumping along with the overly loud electronic music. It's disgustingly easy to slip into my work facade.

Giggling, I take his hand, leading him towards one of the private rooms. Once the door shuts, he lets his own facade drop. He lets me see the real him. The spoiled, rich, monster that he is. I let him slip off my thong as I smile, grinding against him. Knowing he pays extra when I remain silent, I press my lips together. However, when he pinches my nipple without warning, my answering squeak earns me a slap to the face. An iron, coppery taste fills my mouth as he then grips my hair by the roots and forces me to my knees. An unnecessary thing to do. He knows there is never a need to force me. Not since I had Lily. She needs some form of joy in her otherwise miserable life, and it's up to me to fund it. So I take Joshua's cock into my mouth.