Chapter 132: Chapter 132

My mind completely fractured. The words echoed in my ears over and over, drowning out the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above us.

She wants me. Oh my god, she wants me.

I stared down at her, my mouth drying up instantly. The entire world, the school, the girl from the hallway—it all vanished, leaving nothing but the blistering heat of her fingers touching the fabric of my sleeve. My heart hammered so violently against my ribs I was certain she could feel the vibrations.

"I..." My voice broke, a breathless whisper that barely carried in the quiet room.

Betty didn't drop her gaze. If anything, my reaction made her step even closer, completely crowding me against the wall. She let go of my sleeve, her hand traveling up my arm with an agonizingly slow drag, her palm scorching hot right through the cotton of my big t-shirt. She stopped when her fingers reached my neck, her thumb resting gently right over the frantic pulse jumping in my throat.

"You always hide from me," she murmured, her eyes dropping to my lips before darting back up to meet mine. "You wear these big clothes, you put those headphones on... you look right through me like I’m not even there. Do you have any idea how crazy that drives me?"

"I don't hate you," I blurted out, the truth tearing past my lips before panic could stop it. I swallowed hard, my hands coming out of the deep pockets of my baggy jeans, my fingers trembling as they hovered near her waist. "I could never hate you, Betty. I'm just... I thought you were with her."

Betty paused, her thumb tracing the line of my jaw. Then, a soft, incredibly relieved laugh escaped her lips, her shoulders dropping.

"With Anna?" she asked, her voice turning completely tender. "Isabella, she’s my cousin. She’s been trying to give me the courage to talk to you all morning because every time I try, I completely choke."

She leaned in a fraction more, the sweet, heavy scent of her vanilla perfume wrapping around my senses until I felt completely lightheaded.

"I don't want anyone else," Betty whispered, her breath brushing warm against my lips. "I've wanted you for months. Please tell me you feel it too."

The words left her mouth like a threat, and before the panic could even freeze me in place, Betty lunged forward, bridging the final inch between us with a brutal, unexpected speed.

"In fact, shut up," she growled against my skin.

Then, she slammed her lips onto mine.

My entire world shattered. The freezing, desolate bathroom, the suffocating anxiety, the massive clothes swallowing my frame—it all went up in flames the second her mouth crushed against mine. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet. It was a desperate, borderline violent invasion, filled with a frantic, dark longing that had been rotting inside both of us for months.

A helpless, muffled whimper was cut short in the back of my throat. My hands, still buried deep inside the dark abyss of my baggy jeans, clenched into tight, sweaty fists against my thighs. I couldn't move them. I was too paralyzed by the sheer weight of her, too trapped by the sudden, predatory way she pinned me flat against the cold tile wall.

Betty let out a sharp, ragged gasp into the kiss, her fingers clawing their way up my neck and gripping my hair with enough force to make my scalp sting. She tilted my head back roughly, deepening the pressure, forcing my mouth open as her tongue slid inside with a heavy, demanding rhythm that completely stole the air from my lungs. My knees went entirely weak, my body sliding down an inch until the rough edge of the paper towel dispenser dug painfully into my spine.

Inside the safety of my large, oversized clothes, my hands finally began to move. Hidden from sight beneath the heavy denim, my fingers dragged upward, tracking the warm skin of my own thighs, my hips, mapping my own trembling body while Betty consumed my mouth. It felt completely chaotic—feeling the violent, crushing heat of her body pressing against my chest from the outside, while my own hands moved secretly inside my baggy clothes, trying to ground myself as the pleasure turned thick and overwhelming.

The sweet, suffocating taste of her vanilla lip balm filled my throat, turning dizzying and heavy, like a drug. Every time her lips ground against mine, a sharp, electric jolt shot straight down to my core, turning my terror into a dark, throbbing ache.

She wanted me. The girl who held my entire life in her hands was currently trapping me in an empty restroom, breaking me down until I had nothing left.

When she finally pulled back, just a fraction of an inch, her breathing came in short, savage puffs against my wet skin. Her face was flushed a dark, bruised crimson, her lips swollen and dripping as she stared down at me. She didn't release her grip on my hair, keeping me anchored right where she wanted me.

"Don't you dare run away from me again, Isabella," she whispered, her voice dropping into a low, possessive growl that made my entire body shudder.