Her Bully

"This was a mistake," I mumble, smoothing the front of my silk dress, nervously.

I stare up at the banner over the front door that reads, 'Welcome Back Class of 2012!'

I roll my eyes and look at my phone, 6:00pm. Okay, I'll show my face, chat with a few of my former teachers, then make a run for it. I have no intention of staying until 10pm when the reunion is over.

I honestly don't know why I decided to come. High school was a nightmare for me, the acne, the glasses, the anonymity. There's not one thing I miss about this place. No one would notice or even care if I didn't attend the reunion; just like no one noticed during high school.

I cringe at the memories that come flooding back when I look up at the building. Memories I've worked hard to forget since graduation. I was invisible to most of the high school population, except Devon Kingston, to him I was a target.

"Fuck it," I grumble, turning around ready to head back to my car.

"Eve? Is that you?" a voice stops me before I can make a break for it.

I turn around, surprised to see my former classmate, Heather smiling at me. Heather was one of the few people who acknowledged my existence and was friendly. I wouldn't say we were best friends, but we did hang out a bit over the weekends and carpooled to school when I didn't have a car.

"I knew it was you, Eve. Wow, you look great!" Heather grins, stepping closer. She looks the same, flowing blonde hair and mile long legs.

I give her a quick hug, "It's nice to see you, Heather. It's been years."

She gives me a kind smile, "Sure has. You look totally different, I only recognized you by your hair. No one else has that shade of red."

I touched my hair, I'd started dying it red in high school. It's the only thing that I haven't changed. I thought about dying it back to brown when I was called "red tomato" or "fire head". But, for whatever reason, I never did. Maybe in my own way, it was my attempt to stand up to my tormentor, one of my only attempts. I’ve toned it down to a deep red since then.

I return her smile and shrug, "It kinda stuck around all these years."

She nods towards the doors, "You heading in?"

I bite my lip, thinking about lying and saying I've already mingled and have to leave early. But I look at Heather all smiles and friendly eyes and decide to give it a shot.

"Just about to," I reply, adjusting my dress.

"Let's walk in together, like old times." She takes my arm and pulls me with her.

When we walk into the main hall, it looks almost the same as it did ten years ago. The floors are still a faint dusty white and the walls a neon blue. The lockers are still the same beat up dented metal that somehow passed as lockers.

"Place hasn't changed," Heather notes, looking around.

We follow the obvious trail of balloons to the old gym. In front of the double doors, sits a table decorated in school colors. A woman sits behind it, with a bored expression.

"Names?" She asks, not looking up from her phone.

"Heather Charles and Eve Indigo," Heather responds.

The woman looks up, before giving Heather a small grin, "Oh, hey Heather."

"Nice to see you again, Coline."

Coline checks Heather's name off the list taped to a clipboard and starts writing her name on a name tag.

"She your plus one?" Coline asks, quickly nodding my my direction.

"No, Eve's a former student here as well," Heather responds, giving me a quick sympathetic glance.

I'm not at all surprised Coline doesn't remember me. Half the people inside the reunion won't remember me either. Another one of the results of going unnoticed in school.

"Oh, I remember you," Coline lies, politely not wanting to embarrass me.

I give her a tight smile when she hands me my name tag. I stick it quickly onto my dress, and wait for Heather.

Heather grumbles something about putting the name tag onto her silk dress, before taking my arm again.

"You okay?" She asks, looking me over to see if I'm nervous.

"Peachy, you?" I respond.

"Kinda, I haven't seen these people in a while. I'm a little nervous," she breathes, smoothing her updo.

She has no idea I'm right there with her, probably dreading entering those doors more than her. I look down at myself, knowing I'm not the same person I was the last time I was here. I shed the baby weight, the big framed glasses, and the baggy clothes. I have my dream job in my career field. I think I've done alright for myself in the long run.

"Well, let's go mingle." Heather nods, leading me into the gym.

It's exactly how I pictured it, right down to the open bar and the table of old photographs. A large banner hangs on the wall saying, 'Welcome!'

There's a good number of alumni here, almost fifty. Most I recognize as the popular crowd back in the day. Some look the same, and some look totally different.

I smooth my dress nervously again, looking at everyone mingling and socializing. I know I should make at least an attempt to chat just so I can say I did, but I doubt anyone would remember me.

"Let's get a drink," Heather decides, dragging me to the open bar.

A few people are leaning and standing around the bar talking. They look up briefly to smile politely before returning back to their conversations.

I order a margarita, hoping to get a little buzzed so the night won't be a total disappointment.

Heather strikes up a conversation with the bartender who also happens to be a former classmate.

I sip my drink and take a moment to look around. The lights are dimmed, and there's a lame disco ball hanging above a poorly assembled dancefloor. But I have to admit, the reunion is popping. People are dancing and talking, the DJ is playing throwback songs from 2012, and there are some decorative lights hanging above.

I'm so distracted by the room, that I don't notice a shift in the air. When I actually start to feel it, I also sense someone watching me. I start to turn my body, scanning the room.

My attention lands on a pair of ocean blue eyes, looking right at my green ones. My body suddenly locks up, and all the air is sucked from the room. Standing across the dance floor with a perfect view of me at the bar, is the one person I did not want to see tonight. With a whisky in his hand and clad in a black fitted suit, is Devon Kingston, looking right at me.

❦❧

Devon

She looks better than she did in my head all the years I spent thinking about her. Those big green eyes, and that wavy red hair. Those fucking eyes, the bane of my existence. Her eyes haunt my dreams. I've pictured those eyes for so long, and now I'm actually looking at them.

I've thought about this moment long before I got that reunion invitation in the mail. And it's better than any of the scenarios I've imagined. I'm looking at the woman who has single handedly fucked me up since that first day I laid eyes on her freshman year. The woman who I've pictured under me, and in my arms, long after graduation and college. The woman I know is meant to be my wife, the mother of my children, and the love of my life.

But now those green eyes are looking at me in disgust. Pure unfiltered hatred.

Fuck.

I knew I was naive to think she'd forget everything from high school. All the times I hid my lust with cruelty. I tormented her ferociously for years. I bullied her because I didn't know how to deal with my feelings for her. So fucking cliche, it's embarrassing.

By the time I was able to pull my head out of my ass, high school was over. She's never left me though, all through college when I spent countless nights nurturing my hand to the thought of her, and all the nights since then. I'm consumed by the mere thought of her, Eve Indigo.

All these years I've followed her. I know everything about her. I know she was valedictorian at her college graduation. I know she changed her major three times. I know she got her license in counseling and runs her practice out of a small office in Malibu. I know she orders Chinese every Friday night, and that the delivery guy flirted with her one time before I scared the shit out of him. I know she's never had a boyfriend, or been on a date. And I know she's an untouched virgin in between those succulent thighs.

I've imagined myself between those thighs more times than I can count. I imagine how tight she would be when I finally pop her cherry. I've imagined how she would squeeze me when I pump her full of my cum. Or how she would scream my name at the top of her lungs.

I've built my life, my business, and my legacy around the thought of her. Her memory made me strive to become the most successful CEO in the country. Everything I've done was for her. I spent years making a name for myself and making myself worthy of her. I wanted to create a world worthy of putting her in. Now that I've done it, there's only one thing left to do, make her mine.