Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

“Anything at all?” he pressed. “Shapes, light, dark,
blurs…? And is it true that when you lose one sense, the others
heighten? Your sense of smell, hearing, …” he paused, his
voice dropping to almost a whisper. “Your sense of touch?”
The little hairs on the back of my neck rose up, and my
blood heated under my skin. Everyone was watching us. I
knew they were.
Just ignore him.
“And since you don’t have the use of your eyes,” he kept
going, “do you have the reflex anymore to squeeze them shut?
Like when you’re in pain or…when you’re excited?”
Another little laugh somewhere down the table. I turned
away a little, worried they could all see how hard my heart
was beating.
His words were filled with innuendo. I almost forgot he
was older for a moment, our age difference at eight and eleven
seeming much bigger now that we were in high school. I was
too young, and he was being inappropriate. I kind of got the
impression—judging from how he spoke to Rika—he was like
that with everyone, though.
“Do you remember what I look like?” he asked. “I’m
bigger now.”
I turned toward him, knowing my eyes wouldn’t meet his.
“I remember everything. And I don’t hurt as easily anymore.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”
The edge back in his voice spread chills up my arms, and
every inch of my skin felt electrified. I could feel his eyes on
my face, watching me, and there was a mixture of dread and
anger inside me, but also anticipation.
Excitement.
While he hurt me years ago, and there was no doubt he
was now ten times the asshole I knew back then, a small part
of me liked that he didn’t tread softly around me. He didn’t
coddle me. He didn’t ignore me.