Bad (18+) | ✔

Chapter 42|Swing

Freddi

Axel and I went downstairs after a quick shower, immediately joining the crowd as if nothing had happened.

We found that Heather had gotten a hold of the remote and tied a rubber band around the button which explained my earlier, ahem... predicament. Wishing her farewell by telling her that I hoped she'd step in something wet while wearing socks, I walked back into the party.

The entire downstairs area was filled with balloons that were shaped like the numbers seventeen and twenty, and a plethora of grinding teenage bodies.

Suddenly the lights went out. I panicked momentarily before everyone lit up in neon colors. Everything was glowing in the darkness and looking down, I noticed that my shoes and belt lit up as well.

Axel came up to me with a bucket and grinned, his teeth glowing, and smeared something on my cheeks and the swell of my breasts causing me to let out a squeak.

"Why do your teeth glow?" I shouted over the music, finding that the DJ and balloons were lit up as well.

"Tonic water! There's a shit load of it in the jungle juice," Axel responded with a laugh, the wide grin continuing to illuminate his face.

"Hey—"

"Oh," Axel exclaimed as if just having an epiphany. "Lemme just..." his tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth as he bent down and began swiping paint all over my exposed belly.

"What're you doing?" I shrieked at him, shrinking back due to the coldness of the paint.

"Just making sure I don't lose you in the dark," Axel shrugged, leaning back satisfied with his work, "Now turn around!" Axel twirled a blue finger at me in a demonstration.

Giggling I spun, and again I squealed as he began writing on the small of my back. I could just barely recognize the four letters of his name.

"This means your shirt has to come off." I cocked an eyebrow at him, taking the bucket of paint from his hands.

A wicked glint in his dark emerald eyes, Axel ripped his shirt off, splitting it straight down the middle and I'm pretty sure making every girl behind me swoon.

Gulping inwardly at the sight of his bare skin, I dipped my fingers into the paint and on his front wrote: Taken, Property of... and then switching to his back, I put my name in big cursive letters on his broad shoulders and underlined it for extra effect.

"You know, for a bad boy, I've never actually seen you do anything bad," I giggled, drawing a smiley face with glasses. "I mean according to the rumors, aren't you supposed to be a pothead?"

"It's medicinal and I'm plenty bad baby," he turned around and grabbed my waist to growl the words in my ear. I simply snorted at his response, shaking my head at him.

"Now let's party!" Axel yelled, placing me on top of his shoulders.

. . .

I'd left Axel on the dance floor to go to the restroom. When I returned he was nowhere to be found. I looked for him nearly everywhere, stopping occasionally to ask people if they had seen him.

Finally, I found a guy, dark-haired and bearing a strong resemblance to Axel. He introduced himself as Ryan and pointed me in the direction of a dim hallway.

Taking small steps, I eventually made my way to a turn. In the furthest part of the corner, I saw a set of broad shoulders with my name written on them in bright neon glow paint.

Axel.

I couldn't see his face, but what I did see was Savannah's face, her hair glowing blue and silicon stuffed lips glowing a vibrant shade of pink.

But what I noticed the most were here highlighter-yellow, glowing eyelashes that emphasized her dark eyes rolling to the back of her head, before slowly fluttering shut.

A single tear ghosted over my cheek as I turned and ran. Out of the hallway. Out of the party. Out of the house. At that moment in time, I just needed to escape.

No one tried to follow me, nor did they call out for me as I ran across the yard.

For that I was thankful.

. . .

I ran and ran until finally, I reached the town's park. It was a quaint little area with barely anything to play on. Only including a few sets of swings, a slide, and a jungle gym.

I sat down on one of the old rusting swings and placing my head in my hands, began to cry.

I sobbed quietly, not wanting to cause a scene if anyone did come in the middle of the night.

When my tears finally subsided I simply sat, looking down at the sand as I murdered ants with the tip of my shoe.

Heartbreak. There was a word for it, but no word to express how it made you feel.

Betrayed? That didn't even begin to cover it.

I sat on my swing, stuck in my own thoughts when a creaking sound came from my left.

Instantly my head snapped up to find the source of the noise. However, I wrote it off as the wind, when I saw a swing swaying in the breeze.

I relaxed and closed my eyes, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat. When I opened my eyes I was thrown from my swing with a hard shove. Knocked into the dirt with a thud, grunting as I struggled to push myself onto my hands and knees.

I succeeded but as I tried to turn and look at my attacker, I was forced back down, wheezing as my assailant's blow knocked the wind out of me.

Bruised ribs, I'd had them before. I winced in pain as I felt a sharp kick to my side. It knocked me onto my back, twisting me onto my back, with a clear view of him.

Noel Thompson.

My father.

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Published: 10/23/17
Edited: 02/16/18

And again on: 09/22/18