She didn't care if her clothing was shredded right now, focused on the bigger problem she was currently facing: that she was pretty much screwed with no help in sight. Her breath catches in her throat at the thought that it apparently might not just be figurative, hating herself for how what the feeling of his breath against her ear was doing. As much as she tried to act like she was hot shit now, she was still inexperienced when it came to guys. It'd be a blatant lie to say she'd also never thought about Jackson that way, thought about what it'd feel like to have him look at her a certain way, notice her. That had been before, though. Before when it was an unattainable daydream to keep her mind occupied in class. A way to get through the day when reality was too much to deal with.

She'd have never wanted anything like this, and definitely not with some messed up double voice trying to keep her in line. Her body jerks as she tries to break the hold, although she's stopped by her lack of a voice. The sharp alto timbre of her words was gone... And for some reason, that was far more terrifying than anything else. She'd only just found her voice, she wasn't ready for it to be gone. It infuriates her, nails digging into whatever of Jackson's skin she can find - the sounds slipping out not matching her rage. One last attempt to get away before blind panic set in.