They said crushes are called that because well, they crush you. When Taylor Drayden walked in my life, I knew I was doomed. Slick dark hair and a pair of soothing green eyes that could make the world fall at his feet, he was nothing short of beautiful. But the superficial things like this never bothered me. I wasn't attracted to his appearance, but his soul. His demons.

I fell madly in love with the wrinkles that bundled on his forehead when he raised his eyebrows to the heavens. I fell in love with the way I could throw him a flurry of sarcasm and self depreciating jokes and he would grab my shoulders, look into my dark features and promise me that I was worth so much more. I fell in love with the way he got down on his knees and prayed in the middle of church, not caring who in the hell saw. He was devoted. He had a heart. He was a dangerous creature, because although he had faith and a soul, he had a flirtation with adventure, one I did not know how to handle.

It was that dreaded government class, the one in which we had the monotonous old man who stood at the front of the class and spoke like an army general, looking at us like a new set of recruits, training us for the mission at hand. It was Taylor, who despite all the things keeping us apart, took a seat next to the one I had already secured and unknowingly locked us into the contract of partnership for the whole semester.

And while it was that government class that started it, that was not what our story was about.

Rather it was the party two weeks after we met that really intensified the tension between us. Before that party, there were awkward glances and apologizing after brief touches. After, it was like everything was electric, shockwaves sending an earthquake of feelings through my body. Innocent touches and then less innocent ones filled our interactions.

He looked me in the eyes a week after that party and told me he wanted to be with me. My stubborn attitude told me I didn't want to be involved with him, but my heart was beating to a whole different melody.

The last week before spring break quickly came, and I still hadn't responded to Taylor's proposal. He wanted to be with me, and there were so many girls who would jump at that opportunity? Why wasn't I so willing?

I knew I'd been crushing on this boy for the last three months, and I knew that I did want to throw down my back pack, lean over to his desk and get in his face like I had so many times before. But instead of the heated arguments over nothing at all, I wanted to kiss him.

I wanted to press my lips against his and taste the danger and intrigue that he held. But I kept myself back. Instead, I sat down and tried to forget he was right there. And I almost succeeded. Until someone's desk came ramming into my own, locking me between the wall and the devilishly handsome boy at the root of all my problems.

It was his turn to lean into my desk, which I pulled away from instead of my usual habit of leaning into his touch. My head hit the wall, causing an irritating thump in the back of my skull. I whispered curses under my breath and Taylor's fingers found themselves tangled in my hair gingerly rubbing the pain away from that spot.

He looked into my eyes, and smiled softly. "You think I'm a player, even though I've given you no reason to believe that. You think I'll break your heart, even though I've done nothing but protect you since I met you. Do you trust me?" He asked, pursing his lips.

I felt like I was suffocating. I did trust him. Why didn't I believe in him enough to be with him? Why couldn't I tell him I wanted what he wanted? What on earth was holding me back?

A meek "yes," was all that escaped my lips. I found myself leaning into his touch just as I always had, and that made his little smirk return to his face.

"I'm taking you out, tonight. Be ready at seven. And text me your address." He responded delicately, before moving his desk back to its original place and going on as though nothing had just happened.

I reached for my phone and sent him my address, deciding what could be the harm. I texted my dad I would be going out and he responded a quick thank you. I set the phone face down and buried my hands in my face wondering why I had such a sickening feeling in my stomach.

Wasn't this everything I'd ever wanted?

The next day, I didn't go to school. I blocked Taylor's number and I spent most of my day crying. My mom was away on business and my dad didn't even seem to notice I hadn't left in the morning.

I curled up in a ball and cursed his name. I cursed him for everything he appeared to be, and wasn't.

I cursed him for taking advantage of our friendship. Of my feelings I had for him.

Then it was Friday, and all I had to do was make it through today before I was on break. I put on a brave face even though I felt disgusting, as though a piece of me had been ripped out and could never be replaced.

When government came, I dropped my bag by my seat and slid into my desk. Taylor didn't bat an eye at first, headphones in as he was distracted by something on his computer.

Then one earbud came out, then the other. He looked over at me and reached for my leg, where he always rested his hand as he viciously typed with the other. I flinched and he gave me a dirty look, trying to meet my eyes.

"What's your problem, Mer?" He asked hastily, placing his hand on my arm, gripping it a bit tighter than I would've liked. But then again after Wednesday's encounter, I would've liked nothing more than to never see him again.

"My problem is what happened on Wednesday." I spoke, and made a weak attempt to pull my arm away.

"ah, couldn't walk yesterday?" He teased, his usual smirk forming across his lips. A smirk I grew so close to, now was a stab at the very open wound I had.

"I didn't want it." I whispered, not wanting to damage his reputation and just wanting to rid myself of him and his influence. "I wanted to be with you too, but I was so blinded by your perfect smile and perfect eyes to see how much of a perverted asshole you were."

He looked at me, the once soothing green eyes now turning into glimmers of a dark green rage. "You screamed my name the whole time, don't act like you didn't want me." He moved his hand from my arm finally, and I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

"I wanted what I thought you were. I wanted what I believed you were. I don't want the monster you truly are. I thought our demons could dance together, but yours went after the bits of innocence I still had left and suffocated them." I tried to stand my ground but I was shaking. My voice was shaking, my hands were shaking. Everything about me was experiencing the aftershocks of the earthquake. "And I screamed for you to get off me, for you to stop. But you kept going. Relentless. You wouldn't give up until you were satisfied."

He shrugged, unrepentant of one of the worst sins there was. He turned to the teacher as he began talking, ignoring my judgement on what he had done.

The tension didn't leave the rest of that class. Or ever for that matter. But after spring break, when I came back, hoping he would try to fix things between us. Taylor was gone. And I never heard from him again

***

"Wow, Mom." My daughter frowned looking at me. She was sixteen, and had the same green eyes her father did. "Do you regret it? Would you still have gone out with him if you knew that he would do that to you?" She asked me, her dark hair falling over her shoulders.

"If I would've known I was going to have you after he did that, I would take that pain a million times over." I responded knowing it was the most honest truth I could give her.

"Mama?" She asked me as I stood to make myself another cup of tea.

"Yes, my love." I responded, glancing back at her. She was sixteen and knew her father wasn't around, as it'd only been us for all these years.

"If I ever see my father, I'm kicking his ass." She grumbled, standing and walking toward me. I dropped the tea bag in the hot water and turned to face her.

"Don't worry. If I ever see your father, I'll be kicking his ass too, darling." I smiled, knowing she may look like the monster of my teenage years, but she had my personality through and through. "Just listen to your gut, and if you get a bad feeling, stick to your senses." I advised her, as we wrapped our arms around each other and I placed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Don't let some pretty boy shatter you. You're stronger than that." I finished, before sending her to finish getting ready for her audition.

"You forget that I'm the heartbreaker," she laughed with a wink before heading up the stairs.