Sooo...Hi there. I know it's been a while and this chapter isn't as long as usual, but I really wanted to post something so you readers didn't think I had forgotten about you. Hopefully, I can write myself out of this god-awful writer's block and have some more updates for you all sooner rather than later. Enjoy!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A tap at my window slowly drags me out of sleep. My initial assumption is that I'm dreaming until the knocking grows a bit heavier as if in urgency. Slightly worried, I sit up in bed and creep towards the window, not sure what to expect. I slide open the glass, irritated with Don's cheeky grin having nearly given me a heart attack.

"Don, what the hell do you think you're doing out of bed?"

He holds notebook paper that he's scribbled on and I recognize Algebra formulas. "I finished my homework," he announces in a loud whisper.

I blink, confused. "What?"

"Seriously, Clara?"

I'm delirious with a lack of sleep. "Are you still trying to touch my boobs?" I don't need his expression to remind me that that was a stupid question. "Don, you shouldn't even be out of bed and I have school tomorrow."

"I know, I know, but Clara I'm dying here."

"I don't care, Don, you're hurt and making it worse. Go home."

"No."

"Don, this isn't funny."

His mood drops and I suspect he's about to tell me the real reason he showed up here tonight unexpectedly. "I left."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean, I packed a bag and left. Chavo was supposed to come get me tomorrow so I could stay with him and his folks until things cooled off between me and my dad. But I just…left."

"Oh," I whisper, shame warming my cheeks. Did I do this? "Don I'm—"

"Don't you dare feel sorry for me," he whispers, his voice low. "I'm not sorry."

I bite my lip nervously. Don takes my face in his hands and kisses me, nearly pulling my body out the window. I clutch the window sill until I realize he's too far for me to touch. Without thinking I pull on his tee, urging him into my bedroom by leaning back, forcing him to follow. He does, eagerly clamoring up the window until he lets out a grunt of pain, falling back to the ground and clutching his side.

"Shit."

"Christ, I'm sorry, I forgot."

"So did I," he chuckles. He looks at me, eyes glinting in the moonlight. "That's pretty unromantic, huh?"

I smile, shaking my head. Stroking his cheek softly I say, "Meet me 'round back, okay?"

Locking my door behind me, I lead Don onto my bed where I get him settled on his back. "Do you need to take something?"

"I've taken so many somethings lately..."

I crawl into the space between my boyfriend and the wall, lulled by the thought of sleep when Don's hand finds my thigh. "No."

"I didn't do anything."

"I'm telling you don't do anything. I need sleep; I can't miss school tomorrow."

"I know that. Sheesh, it's like you don't trust me or something."

I stare at him until he starts laughing at me. "Relax," he whispers, his voice dropping again. I fidget. I can feel his hand stroking the skin of my leg.

"How the hell am I supposed to relax?"

Don turns to face me with a cheeky grin. "Problem?"

"Yeah. You."

He laughs as I turn my back to him, yanking my one pillow out from underneath his head and fluffing it harshly before slamming it back onto the bed and throwing my head atop it. "Clara, baby, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be an ass this time, I swear."

"Then go to sleep, Don," I whine, hating that I'm actually more tense with him lying right beside me than usual. I want nothing more than to roll on top of him but I can't. And he's so close, not even a foot away from me. I can smell his soap, feel the heat radiating off his body and it's driving me insane. I clench my fingers at my side, because if I touch him I'm gone.

I don't realize his silence until I feel the bed shift then rise. I turn, sitting up when I realize that he's limping towards the door, his shoulders stiff. "Where are you going?"

"I'll leave if I'm bothering you that damn much," he stated simply.

"Are you serious? Don, I'm not bothered by the fact that you're here otherwise I wouldn't've let you in."

"Then what's with the cold shoulder all of a sudden? If you didn't want me here, I'd rather you just say so."

"Don it's not that I don't want you here."

"Then what, Clara? Because the back-and-forth with you is really pissing me off."

"You, Don! You're driving me insane!"

"Then why the hell did you let me in?"

I could tell he didn't understand my words, and that was my fault of course. "Dammit Don, I'm trying to tell you I'm horny and it's because of you!"

I bury my burning face in my hands. "God, fuck, I hate you," I snap into my palms. "Do you have any idea how frustrating it is being with you? I've never felt this way before and I don't know what I'm doing so if I start acting like a bitch it's not always because I'm angry I'm just…"

I breathe, running my fingers through my hair in frustration but relieved that I've managed to communicate how I really feel. I cross my legs and add on a final note, "This hasn't just been hard for you. I just…didn't know how to tell you."

He hasn't moved from his spot standing in the middle of my room and I can't muster the courage to look him in the eyes just yet. After a while I prompt, "Please say something or I might just die of humiliation."

He doesn't say anything, but I can tell his breathing has deepened and I feel my heart start to pound in my chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I can make out his figure walking hesitantly towards me but I say nothing. He sits on the edge, dipping the mattress. Even I can see the tent in his sweatpants and I bite my lip hard.

"I didn't know," he whispers apologetically.

"How could you?"

"You just seemed to have so much more control than me," he chuckles. "I mean, I knew you were enjoying it, but I didn't think you were so…frustrated." I can hear the smile in his voice and a part of me knew he had to have found some joy in my words. "I like you better this way," he whispers in a husky voice, his lips tauntingly close to my ears.

"You're enjoying this," I murmur. I don't think I've ever seen him this…erect, for lack of a better term. And I can only imagine what this conversation has been doing to his ego. In all honesty, I don't know which is bigger.

Don leans back with a smile. "And you're not?"

"Not particularly, no," I mutter under my breath. I would've preferred to keep my feelings to myself. I liked Don a lot, but this feeling of vulnerability that came with it was unnerving. I spent my entire life building a wall around myself because eventually you get sick of crying all the damn time. And in less than a semester he broke that barrier. I wish I knew how, but it happened so suddenly that even I couldn't pinpoint an exact date and time.

But the worst part was that a small fraction of my rational self didn't mind the intrusion. No human being willingly lives in solitude. I liked that someone was asking me about my day, my thoughts, my likes, my dislikes. I liked being able to trust someone enough to talk about my father or my insecurities. That isn't easy for me, but Don somehow made it just a bit more manageable.

I found myself choking to tell him this, and I press my lips together. Too soon. I didn't want to spoil a moment any more than I already had. Instead, I offer Don a small smile, hoping that it conveys enough of my thoughts to satisfy him for the night. He pushes a strand of hair back from my face and I hold my gaze, taking in the small swell of skin on his jaw from his father. My eyes roam over the rest of his face, recalling the first time I did this, months ago in my bedroom after our first kiss.

I feel myself lean forward on the bed, my eyes drooping as I neared my targeted goal. My hands clenched his shirt, fisting the material tightly as I pulled him closer to me. The first kiss was hardly anything worth bragging about, but it started a burning desire in me that only Don could quench, if I let him. Something drove me forward and I kissed him again, harder, my breathing already straggled.

I can't quite explain the emotions that came over me, but they were no longer just lustful desires of a teenaged girl making out with her boyfriend. I wanted to touch him, kiss him, and do all that I could to please him, because I felt as though I had done nothing for him this entire time.

But before I had the opportunity to say or do anything, Don said, "Go to sleep. We'll talk more later."

…

Overnight, I seemed to from a nobody to the central hub for gossip at Permian. I got asked if Don really sent Charlie to the hospital, if Don fought defending my honor after we got caught doing it, if it was gang-related…really stupid shit. Some offered their condolences, patting my arms and tossing a smile as if we spoke regularly. By the time I sat down in the cafeteria for lunch, I was almost pining for my solitary confinement in the library.

"You look exhausted," Lee commented with a mouthful of salad.

"Don came over last night," I say without thinking. When Stasia gasps and Lee sputters with disbelief, I roll my eyes and hold up my hands. "Not like that."

"Then what like?" Stasia asked.

I bite my lip, not sure if this was something I was supposed to be telling anyone. And I certainly didn't want the buzzing cafeteria to overhear, so I leaned in a whispered. "He left."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he packed a bag and left. I had to call Brian early this morning to come get him before Janie busted him in my bed—"

"You slept together!"

"Jesus, Stasia," I hiss, glancing around. One group of freshmen paused right behind her paused, tilting their heads as if to see if they heard right. Only when they resumed talking, shrugging as if they had misheard, did I sit back down in my seat. "Christ, watch it. I don't need any more rumors swirling around about me and Don. I really just want this to be as normal as possible, and that can't happen if people are always talking."

She winced. "Sorry." Then she grinned. "Please, please, spill."

I blush, trying not to smile. "There's nothing to spill."

"Liar. It's written all over your face: something happened between you two."

I looked at Lee who was waiting with curious eyes. I dropped my shoulders in defeat and said, "I might've mentioned how "attracted" to him I was," I say.

"What the hell does that even men," Lee snaps. "Were you not attracted to him before?"

"No, that's not what I meant." I glance around us, isolated in our little corner and yet surrounded by so many other students. I couldn't risk it.

"Look, I'll tell you later, okay."

"You better," Stasia said sternly. "I can just tell by how red your face is that this is gonna be good."