by Nora Cobb
I watch Lucas with his head down beside Arielle, who sits with a straight back and lifted chin beside him. Whenever she tries to rest her hand on his forearm, he yanks it away. I can’t believe they’re married, but I can believe it wasn’t his idea.
I can’t help but think about Ms. Petrenko and our talks:
Each piece has a different worth. You have to know what your worth is. More importantly, you have to be honest about your worth is.
The classroom is like a chessboard, and my piece has been moved to the other side, surrounded by pawns. I have to figure out a way to get Lucas back.
The chime rings, but I remain seated. I’m not about to be manipulated into another scene with Arielle. I get looks from the other students as they file out of class. Arielle looks over at me and tugs at Lucas’ arm.
“Will you stop?” he says to her.
Definitely not a man in love. I want to know what happened, but I won’t find out anything here. Careful not to look, I grab my stuff and head out of the room, moving as fast as I can so Arielle cannot pursue me and gloat about her victory. But it isn’t a victory, not when you’ve made the person you love look that miserable.
Standing at the far end of the hallway by the fire exit, I watch Lucas trail behind Arielle as they walk toward the elevator. I open the door slowly and slip inside, staring at Lucas until we make eye contact. His chin lifts as he watches me close the door slowly. I wait but not for long. He pushes the door open, and he sees me waiting alone by the concrete stairwell.
Lucas doesn’t speak as he reaches for me, and I let him pull my limp body against his. It hurt to see him beside Arielle, but he didn’t want to be with her. I could tell. His head rests against mine; he strokes my hair against his cheek. And finding strength, I hold him tight in my arms.
“Lucas,” I whisper. “What happened?”
“I got ambushed,” he scoffs. Lucas doesn’t let go of me as he tells me what happened after he arrived home from my house. I hold him tighter, fisting my hands in his jacket. I’m hurt, but not as bad as he’s feeling now. Lucas is broken in my arms, and I hold onto him as if I can hold him together.
“Why didn’t you leave?” I ask. “You could have come back to my house. You could have stayed with me.”
Lucas pulls away, and I almost don’t let him. My hold on him was strong, but evidently not strong enough.
“It’s complicated, Natalie. Arielle threatened you worse this time. She would have been able to use my family’s money to go after your uncle’s business if I hadn’t agreed.”
“Somehow this is worse than that.” A tear slips down my cheek.
“No, Natalie,” Lucas replies. “What Arielle would’ve done would have been even worse. Your selfies on the internet were horrible, but what she could have done to your uncle ...” Lucas looks away. “She would have ruined him to get to you.”
“But Uncle Phil is a smart man,” I insist. “He’s had many business start-ups, and he’ll have many more. He’s already planning the next. Now that the Saunders are shareholders, he wants to move on.”
“Natalie, you don’t get it.” Lucas’ voice is stern, and it makes me start. “Arielle would have made sure that your uncle was a social pariah, and that he would never find employment again, much less run a business.” He runs his hand through his hair as if the thought weighs too much. “I’ve seen what happens to people—credit destroyed, criminal accusations that won’t go away, morals questioned beyond repair. It’s ugly, and it’s damning, and you would have been guilty by association.”
“But Lucas—”
“Natalie, have you heard from Columbia yet?”
I stare at him like he’s nuts. “No, but that’s not important right now.”
“It might appear that way,” he replies, “compared to what has happened. But it is important. Your academic record is not keeping you out. Maya Saunders contacted the school and questioned your ability to complete the program, considering the current turmoil in your life.”
“But Greg Saunders called his friend.”
“One hand gives it, and the other takes it away. You piss off the wrong people, and they will play the game until you are out of it.”
“Did Troy know this was going to happen?”
“He may have,” Lucas sighs, “but he wouldn’t have been able to stop it.”
“He could have warned you more, Lucas.”
“He tried. But in the end, what could he do? What could any of us do by ourselves? As much as we like to think we’re masters of our universe, we’re still just puppets dancing along the strings held by our parents.”
My small victories seem shallow compared to losing Lucas. I felt stronger with the boys behind me. I could walk down the halls, and if anyone had a bad word to say, they kept it to themselves. Montlake wasn’t the pit of rich snobs that I thought it was on my first day, and that’s where I made my mistake. I let my guard down, and Lucas was taken away.
Lucas cups my chin in his hand, and he kisses my lips, but I pull away.
“I can’t,” my voice shakes.
“You still love me?”
I look into Lucas’ pained eyes, and I do love him, but I can’t stop feeling hurt. I know that Arielle would have hurt me ... hurt us if he had turned her down, but marriage?
“Natalie?” Lucas grips my shoulders.
His eyes search my face, and my lips tremble. My heart aches, but I’m not the one in trouble. He is, and no matter what, I can’t turn my back on him. My hand brushes his, and Lucas leans in for another kiss. When our lips touch, I kiss him back. The gentle kiss warms me. I know that what Lucas did, he did for me, but I want to help him, and to help him, I need allies.
“Natalie,” he whispers, “you know that I—” There’s a loud bang behind us as Arielle comes running up the stairs from the lower level.
“What the hell?” Her eyes are on me as Lucas steps between us. “You slut,” she spits. “What are you doing with my husband?”
Her husband. Hearing those words pains me, and I place my hand on my stomach. All the shit moves Arielle has made against me, I could fight against, but this one guts me.
“Arielle,” Lucas’ voice is hard. “I’m talking to Natalie.”
“No, you weren’t. You were kissing her. Is that how it’s going to be? We haven’t been married a week, and you’re going to embarrass me by screwing behind my back with trash?”
“He doesn’t love you,” I hiss. “You did this out of spite.”
Arielle tries to push past Lucas, but he holds her away from me. “He is married, you whore. That means he is off-limits, so cross him off your list.”
“He wouldn’t have married you if you hadn’t made him.”
Arielle pauses because she knows it’s the truth.
But she starts again with force. “The truth is you’re a man-hungry slut!” she shouts. “And everyone knows that. If I catch you with my husband again, I will file a restraining order against you.”
“You can’t do that,” I frowned, “It makes no sense.”
“I can do whatever I want,” she shouts back at me.
The late chime rings, and I’m done. I don’t want to explain that I need a pass because the school bitch married my boyfriend. I slip past them and hurry down the steps. I feel their eyes on me, but I don’t look up.
“Come on, Lucas,” says Arielle. “Be a dear and walk me to class.”
***
School has drained me by lunchtime. Everyone knows that Lucas and Arielle are married. She flaunts her ring around to every girl who wants to see it. But I have to laugh as Beth walks past Arielle, balancing a water glass on her hand, pretending it’s a diamond. She winks and says, “Mine is bigger.”
Arielle scowls but refrains from her usual name-calling. It seems that social media is keeping her in check.
The boys stay far away like they are showing solidarity for Lucas. Many of the wealthy boys also have marriage contracts, and there are no illusions that Lucas want
ed his marriage. The mood is somber as Arielle continues to gloat. Unexpectedly, Principal Cromwell appears in the cafeteria. He usually sends one of his cronies, but not today. This must be serious. He rounds up Lucas and Arielle, and by the end of the day, the meeting is in the grapevine.
Cromwell chastised them both for not reporting their marital status to the office. Arielle, of course, was belligerent, but Cromwell pointed out that it’s a legal issue. He also asked that they be mindful of the other students because married life is not compatible with high school life. In the end, he congratulated them tersely.
I don’t know what to do or how to help. I can’t use the code. I don’t understand it, and no one seems able, or willing, to explain it to me. In my bag, I look at the notebook with all the notes I used to help Uncle Phil, and I hurry to the library.
The librarian who helped me before is behind her desk on her computer.
“Excuse me, Ms. Perez?” I ask quietly.
She looks up and instead of scowling the way she used to when she saw me, she smiles. I’ve become a regular due to tutoring and I’m not one of the troublemakers.
“Natalie, do you have a student today?” she asks kindly.
“No, but I have a question.” Hesitant, I screw up my face, because I’m doubtful this will work.
“What is it?”
“Do you know what the code is?”
Ms. Perez doesn’t laugh, or even smile. She looks around to see who else is listening. There are a couple of kids. Not in my grade, and they’re busy studying for midterms, which start next month. They’re that hard. She looks at me again but doesn’t speak. Instead, Ms. Perez goes to her computer and strikes a few keys. The printer starts and pages stack up in the feed. When it’s finished, she hands me a stack of pages that should take days to read, but I know I’ll have them read by tomorrow morning.
“Obviously, I don’t know everything,” she explains, “but I like to observe people. And I’ve saved some interesting articles about the major players.”
CHAPTER 18
Lucas
I refuse to move in with the Blackwaters. The thought of looking at Arielle beside her parents every morning makes my stomach pitch. Taylor is remorseful, and my father pretends to ignore the situation, but I know Arielle’s presence in our home bothered them. I figure it’s only fair to share her love and warmth.
Arielle has already run afoul of Taylor when she suggests redecorating the house. Taylor has this thing for Danish style. She prefers the cool, understated smartness that relies on quality materials and good form. Taylor spent a fortune on acquiring an authentic Egg chair in pristine condition. No one is allowed to sit in it, and if you do, you can’t have buttons on your clothes, and both feet have to stay on the ground. Arielle referred to it as “that old thing” and “the old man’s chair.” Before Arielle arrives at our house with her luggage, Taylor has Wiley move the chair upstairs to a bedroom, which she now keeps locked.
Our house doesn’t have wings in the traditional sense. It’s more modern than old school. The outside looks classical and grand but the inside is thoroughly modern and expansive, with places to hide. My parents decide to hide Arielle and me in the west side of the house while they occupy the east side with Wiley. We have a separate entrance on the back of the house and a separate staircase. The only person who spends time over here is the maid when she cleans.
“What a dump!” Arielle picks up a throw pillow off our bed and throws it on the ground.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Your mother has no taste, Lucas.”
“Her taste is refined,” I sniff. “Not using bling doesn’t mean you have no taste.”
Arielle sucks her teeth, a habit I’ve always detested.
“Well, my parents have given me a gift. We can go furniture shopping tomorrow.”
“Fine.” I take a pillow off the bed.
“What are you doing?” Alarmed, she stares at me.
“I’m going to bed.”
“So, what are you doing with that pillow?”
“I’m taking it to my room,” I reply.
“You’re going to leave me alone in this bedroom in this creepy house?”
My shoulders tense. “You practically grew up in this house.”
It’s our first night together,” she whines. “I want it to be special.”
I shake my head scornfully. “Too late for that to happen.”
Hands on hips, she asks, “What does that mean?”
“Let’s not argue.” I toss the pillow on the chair and wonder if I can sleep sitting up.
Arielle walks into the closet and comes out dressed in a sheer lace teddy, holding a box. I avoid looking at her from the neck down and stare at the box. It’s a frilly pink box that looks like a fake book decorated with clip art and random uplifting words. She smiles proudly as she lays it down on the end of the bed.
“It’s Valentine’s Day. Open it,” she smiles seductively. “Go on. Don’t be shy.”
“I’m not in the mood,” I scowl. And it’s unlikely that more lingerie will put me there.
“Lucas,” Arielle sits down beside the box on the bed. “Just look inside.”
I probably shouldn’t, but I flip the lid of the box open. Inside are sex toys—brightly colored vibrators, a white leather whip thing, furry handcuffs, silk ties, and some plastic stuff I don’t know anything about. My teeth clench in disgust as I take a step back. I’m okay with toys, but my partner is all wrong.
Arielle’s laughter peels across the room as she pulls a grape-colored dildo out of the box. “Lucas, you’ve gone pale.” She places the tip of the dildo against her glossy lips. “I know you’re not a virgin.”
“Neither are you, but I didn’t think you were this experienced.”
“Don’t be fresh,” she smirks. “I ordered them online, so we can both enjoy it.” Arielle leans against the headboard, giving me a sultry look. It would have had me all over her a year ago, but tonight, I can’t even imagine touching her.
“Anything you did with that girl,” she whispers, touching her breasts with the huge plastic rod, “I can do better.”
“Let’s try this instead,” I smile and pull off my T-shirt, holding the handcuffs up in the air. “Do they come with a key?”
Arielle bounces across the bed toward the box and searches inside, pushing toys around, and tossing a few out onto the bed. She holds up the keys, dangling them in front of me. I snatch them from her and put them in my pocket. Pulling a silk tie out of the box, I wrap it around her head, covering her eyes.
She giggles. “Lucas, I like your kinky side.”
I slap her bottom, and she giggles again. “Be a good girl and don’t talk, or I’ll gag your mouth.”
I guide her backward toward the headboard, and she sits there, giggling and pushing her chest out to tempt me farther. I unlock a cuff and slip it around her wrist. “You like toys,” I whisper.
Arielle reaches out blindly and runs a hand down my chest. I back away. “No,” I push her hand away. “No touching yet. I touch, and you enjoy it.”
I click the handcuff shut, and then I click the other one shut around the leg of the end table. Arielle lies passively on the bed with her legs slightly parted, showing off a frill of lace between her legs. I grab a vibrator out of the box, turn it on, and place it on her stomach.
“I like to watch while I get undressed,” I tell her.
Arielle is quick to obey, and she starts to rub the vibrator along her thighs. I grab my shirt and my sweater, and pull them on over my head.
“That’s it, baby,” I whisper. “Show me how nasty you can get.”
Arielle giggles again. Then, sighing deeply, she starts working the vibrator. I turn away quickly and quietly slip out the bedroom door.
***
I avoid the steps that creak as I head down the back stairs to the side entrance. My Camaro is parked out front alongside Arielle’s coupe. The bedroom light is on in my parents’ room, but I doubt th
ey will notice if I leave alone. An odd thing has happened; they’ve started spending more time together. My father seems concerned over my well-being, and that’s something he and Taylor can talk about. But even if they did see me leave, I doubt they would have stopped me.
The air is biting cold, but it feels good to be outside as I jump into my car and slowly drive toward the road. Once I hit the main road, I’m pushing it. Speeding on these roads is dangerous; I could slide across black ice. But with no other cars in sight, I floor it and hope I don’t get pulled over. I slow down at the turn, and without thinking about it, I’m on my way to Natalie’s. Arielle thinks a box of sex toys will turn me on. Like I’m some kind of animal hooked on pheromones that only needs to see a naked breast to hump. Arielle doesn’t get the concept of love.