Mean Girls. Louise Rozett

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Mean Girls - Louise  Rozett


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took the Excedrin. “Gimme another one.”

      “Another what?”

      “Pill.”

      “You’re really only supposed to take two, I think.”

      “Just give it to me, Jesus. You’re not my mother, so don’t baby me.”

      “Fine, I’m sorry.” She put another pill in Becca’s extended palm.

      Becca downed that one, too. “What are you, mad now?”

      “No …?”

      “Okay, then.”

      “When was the last time you ate?” Dana asked sheepishly.

      “Like … five hours ago.”

      “What did you have?”

      “A salad. Why are you—?”

      “Because you’re not supposed to take that stuff on an empty stomach.”

      That was probably true. She didn’t need to feel even sicker in the morning than she was already bound to.

      “Fine.”

      Becca threw on a sweatshirt and then walked down to the always-open dining hall in bare feet and no bra. She looked like hell, and really hoped she wouldn’t see anyone.

      But of course, Johnny was sitting at a table in the middle of the hall, eating a sandwich.

      He spotted her and smiled. “C’mere.”

      “Hey,” she said.

      “Hey. So where’d you and Max go off to earlier?”

      “We were just talking.” She eyed him, and ran a finger through her hair. “Where were you? You were gone when we came back in.”

      “Yeah, I mean the hottest girl at the party left, so I didn’t see why I should be there anymore.”

      “Oh, yeah?” She smiled.

      He nodded and took a sip of his Sprite.

      “So are you and Max …”

      “I’d have to be really stupid to go out with a guy already, wouldn’t I?” She didn’t want to think about how Max had rejected her earlier.

      He shrugged. “Maybe. I think he likes you. He never talks about that kind of thing though.”

      “I don’t care if he does.”

      One bagel and the rest of Johnny’s Sprite later, he was walking her out of the dining hall. She suddenly didn’t want to go up to sleep yet. Her headache was already gone, and she had a second wind of energy gusting through her.

      “Hey, what’s down that hallway?”

      Johnny looked where she pointed. “Oh, that’s … the staff room and a bunch of the teachers’ offices.”

      She smiled and marched down the stairs.

      “Where are you going?”

      “Come on! I wanna see this ‘staff room.’”

      He followed her. “You’re a crazy little girl, aren’t you?”

      She pulled open the heavy wooden doors that led to the darkened hallway. He closed them after they walked through.

      Becca turned and could feel she was inches from him. She felt the light that slipped through the crack in the doors hit her face. She narrowed her eyes at him and whispered, “I’m not a little girl.”

      He gave a small moan as she looked up at him. She could see his eyes now. He made the tiniest movement toward her and she turned to run down the hallway, her bare feet tapping against the hardwood floors. She stopped in front of the double doors that had Staff Only written in gold.

      He strode after her and pushed down on the handle to open one of the doors.

      “I can’t believe it’s not locked.” He held it open for her and then shut it behind them.

      This room was also dark. There were flags around its perimeter and a long, darkly wooded meeting table in the middle, surrounded by chairs. There was an unlit fireplace, and a mantel beneath a large oil painting of the dean.

      She took off her sweatshirt, aware that her slip rose a little as she did so. She tossed it on the ground.

      “Well, if you’ll please take your seat at the end of the table—” she gestured at the biggest chair “—this meeting can begin.”

      Johnny smiled and sat down where she’d indicated. She slid onto the table in front of him. Maybe it was the alcohol left in her system, but he was a lot more attractive than she’d noticed before.

      “I think we both know why we’re here.” Johnny spoke smoothly.

      Becca’s heart leaped a little, but she remained composed. “I think I need reminding.”

      “Because,” he said, slouched in his seat, “we’ve got a student here at Manderley who is just not behaving.”

      “I think I know who you’re talking about.”

      “The miscreant who led poor Johnny Parker into the break-in of this—” he pounded on the desk and moved toward her “—very room.”

      “Really? Because as I see it, poor little Miss Normandy was influenced by this Mr. Parker.”

      He stood up, in between her legs. She leaned back, looking at him with all the sexy she could conjure.

      Johnny effortlessly pulled her toward the edge of the table. She planted her feet on the armrests of the chair he’d vacated. He lifted the silky fabric and ran his hands along her skin, wrapping his touch around her hips and up her back. He sharpened his grip as he moved down to her thigh.

      Becca’s smile faded as want filled her chest and made it clench. It ran through her legs and made them close to shaking. It was in her head, making her dizzy and light-headed. She could hear her own breath in the still, dark room. She could hear his, too, and she saw that he was no longer looking clever.

      His hands were gentle, and her muscles tensed as he ran his fingers farther up her leg. He came closer and kissed her neck, as Max had done earlier. It felt so different when Johnny did it. All Becca wanted now was for him to come even closer. And he did. He moved in and put his lips to her ear. His breath blew her hair just enough to send a tingle down her spine.

      “What do you want, new girl?” His whisper was slow and deep.

      “You,” she said desperately. She wasn’t in control. She was uninhibited and desperate for him.

      With one hand still on her upper thigh, taunting her, he moved his other to her hair. He pulled it slightly, exposing more of her neck. She surrendered, leaning back with her eyes shut. Her breath came faster now. His hand moved just enough higher, and his lips moved down to her chest. He gently dropped her straps.

      Less than two weeks since she’d lost her virginity, and her number had already doubled.

      The following Monday, as Becca dawdled her way to English class, Johnny pulled on her arm and dragged her out the side door.

      “What are you doing?” she asked.

      “What are you doing?” Johnny looked livid. “You told me you weren’t with Max!”

      “I’m not!”

      “Yes, you—” He paused, looking like he was trying to remember her exact wording. “But you’re hooking up with him.”

      “What makes you say that?”

      “He told me, Becca. In the locker room after practice.”

      A small thrill of satisfaction rolled through her. Finally, Max was bragging about her. “What


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