I brightly smile until I remember my lack of funds. “I did, but I’m not going.”
“Why? Isn’t every teenage girl’s dream to go to homecoming?”
I bite into my lip as tears swell in my eyes. “I don’t …” I lower my gaze in embarrassment. “I can’t afford a dress.”
He holds up the bag. “Lucky for you, I’m here to solve that problem.”
“Really?” A few tears fall down my cheek, and I blink them away, making certain this is real.
No one has ever done anything this kind for me.
He hands me the bag. “Go try it on to make sure it fits. Your sister wasn’t sure about your size.”
I grab the bag, race to my bedroom, and drag the dress from the bag. I run my hands over it and admire the sparkly pink fabric. It feels and looks expensive. I inspect the tag. Holy wow. It is expensive. I hold it against my chest and squeal in excitement. Also in the bag is a pair of silver flats decorated with pink stars and a heart necklace.
This will be the best night ever.
I put my dress on, tying it around my neck, and hurry into the living room. Claudia and Sam are waiting for me. She’s on the couch, and he’s standing in the corner, his hands in his black dress slacks. He never sits down, like he thinks we’re contaminated and he’ll catch something.
“I love it!” I say, rushing over to him.
He seems surprised when I wrap my arms around him but loosens up and hugs me back, patting my shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
“Cute. Not my style but whatever,” Claudia comments when I pull away.
“Shut the hell up, Claudia,” he snaps, taking me aback, and he straightens out his shirt.
Claudia slams her mouth shut and rolls her eyes.
“Thank you so much,” I tell him.
“You’re welcome.” He shoots Claudia a dirty look. “You look very pretty.” He points at me. “Remember, boys are bad.”
“I’m fifteen,” I answer. “I don’t need to worry about boys.”
Claudia glowers at Sam. “High school boys are never who you need to worry about.”
Sam ignores her comment, shoots me a smile, and then leaves.
I jump up and down and smile at Claudia. “Thank you so, so, so much for asking him to buy me a dress.”
She smiles back. “It’s no problem. Don’t tell Mom, okay?”
“I won’t! Gosh, I wish I had a boyfriend like Sam. He’s so cool and nice.”
She frowns. “You need to be careful around him, Chloe.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sam isn’t as perfect as he leads on, okay? We only know him in this trailer. Otherwise, he doesn’t exist to us.”
I don’t ask her what she means. I don’t want the moment to be ruined.
Tonight has been nothing short of a fairy tale. I’ve pinched myself to confirm it’s not a dream.
I didn’t want Kyle to see where I lived, so I had him meet me at the school instead of picking me up. We went to dinner and then rode back to school in a limo—a freaking white limousine! I felt like a movie star.
Kyle introduced me to his friends. I’ve received a few dirty looks from cheerleaders, but it won’t kill my high of tonight. He asked me to the dance, not them.
Kyle holds his hand out. “Take a walk with me.”
I nod and try to mask the excitement barreling through me.
Looking so handsome in his suit, he can ask me anything right now, and I’ll say yes.
Can I have a kidney?
Yes!
Will you sell me your soul?
Duh!
I wipe my sweaty hands down my dress before taking his, and he leads us off our gym’s makeshift dance floor. The room is filled with pink streamers, and the DJ has played “Cha Cha Slide” three times too many. Wandering eyes follow our every step as we make our way outside, and I’m surprised when he walks us to the football field.
We don’t stop until we’re in the center of the field, and he stares at me under the bright stadium lights before taking my other hand, too. “Can I kiss you, Chloe?”
“Yes,” I answer with no delay. I lick my lips.
We’re going to kiss!
Best. Freaking. Night. Ever!
He releases my hands and steps closer, so close that our lips are already nearly touching.
“Is this your first kiss?”
I swallow. “No.”
I don’t ask him the same. The stories of his player ways roam through the hallways more than students running late to class, and I’ve spotted him sucking face with his fair share of cheerleaders. He’s experienced. There’s no question about it—as experienced as a high school guy can be. I won’t put my money on him being Claudia-level experienced.
I play off more confidence than I have. Our kiss will be my second. My first was with Marvin, the boy down the road. His tongue was sloppy, and his breath smelled like Cheetos—not a good time. I should’ve known a kiss with a boy named after a Martian would be nothing to party about.
Kissing Kyle will be different, not sloppy or gross. The girls I’ve seen him with always seem to be enjoying themselves and look far from grossed out.
Kyle stares down at me with a genuine smile, and all the anxiousness inside me melts away.
“You’re adorable when you’re nervous.”
“It’s so not adorable,” I mutter. More like pathetic. Who’s afraid of a kiss?
Goose bumps prick my skin when he cups my chin in his hand and drags my face up until we’re making strong eye contact. He grins before tilting his head down, and then he softly presses his lips against mine.
It’s perfect.
His lips are like super-soft pillows.
He slightly pulls away to eye me, awaiting my reaction, and when I stare at him, practically panting, he leans in for another kiss. He slides his tongue inside my mouth this time, and I gasp before doing the same.
No Cheetos breath on this guy.
He tastes like peppermint and spiked fruit punch.
I lose track of how long we make out before he stops to sit on the grass and pulls me down with him. My dress hikes up, and I know it’s getting dirty. Briefly, I wonder how hard it will be to clean off grass stains because I am so keeping this dress for the rest of my life.
He gives me one last kiss before lowering me onto my back. He moves on top of me, holding himself up with his arm. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” I say in surprise.
I spread my legs for him to adjust himself between them, and my heart races when he lightly brushes strands of my hair off my shoulder. He plants kisses along my neck before dropping his mouth down to my cleavage.
“Your skin is so soft,” he mutters, sucking the exposed skin between my breasts before cupping one in his hand.
My dress lifts more, and when I move to situate it, his pants-covered erection slides against my core.
Holy crap.
I’ve never experienced anything like this, never felt this tingling between my legs. I tilt my hips up to meet his, wanting more.
Okay, maybe he’s more experienced than I thought.
He lets out a low moan before pressing against me, and his lips meet mine again.
His hands anchor around my hips. I thrust upward while he rocks against me over and over again as we make out on the field. I slightly pull away when his metal belt buckle hits my core.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks, pulling away and catching his breath.
I shake my head, and with unsteady hands, I unbuckle his belt. I settle myself on my back against the grass when I’m finished and smile. “Much better.”
He grins, and our next kiss is rougher. His movements are more hurried as he pushes my dress up to my waist and exposes me, my red panties on display for him. After I fail to lower his pants with my feet, he pushes them down his thighs. We’re so close that his breaths are hitting mine. My breathing is ragged when his erection under his boxers slides against my panties. My heart is racing like I
ran a mile in gym class.
His fingers hook around the side of my panties, but he suddenly stops. “Have you done this before?” He peeks down at me with bright green eyes.
Am I that obvious?
“Does it matter?” I whisper.
He flinches and rests his hands on my thighs. “I’m not taking your virginity on a football field, Chloe.”
I was so worked up that I forgot we were in public. Not just in public, but at our freaking school. Who dry-humps someone at school?
“It’s … it’s okay,” I assure, struggling to keep my voice strong. What are you thinking? Your sister was a pregnant teen! “You have a condom, right?”
He keeps staring, contemplating his next move, and I rock against him to convince him to pop my cherry.
“Are you sure about this?”
I nod. “As long as you have protection.”
“I do.”
I miss his touch when he pulls away to grab his wallet, and the sound of him opening the condom cuts through our heavy breathing.
Then, that sound is overtaken by shrills of laughter.
“Holy fucking shit, ladies and gentlemen! Get a load of this! Lane is about to fuck Little Miss Trailer Trash!”
Kyle jerks my dress down and stands to pull his pants up before holding his hand out to me. I glare at him before moving my attention to the crowd around me. My chest tightens with embarrassment. My fellow classmates, clad in their formal attire, are pointing and laughing at me. They’re holding their cell phones in my direction, no doubt recording my humiliation. The flashes of cameras nearly blind me.
I’m collapsed in the middle of the football field in a wrinkled, dirty dress, and the condom Kyle planned to wear while taking my virginity is lying beside me. There will be photographic evidence of this forever.
Tears prick at my eyes while the insults continue.
“I can’t believe you’d touch her!” a girl yells. “Haven’t you seen her sister? She has, like, ninety STDs. You can get them from sharing a toilet, you know.”
“Now, I know why he asked her to the dance!” another shouts.
“We knew you could do it, man! See, there’s no stick up her ass, only your cock!” adds another.
More laughter erupts.
I cover my face in embarrassment, forcing myself to breathe, and tears stream down my cheeks. I kick off my flats, jump up, and sprint away from them with Kyle on my trail, screaming my name. When we’re out of earshot from the mocking crowd, I whip around and face him.
“Chloe,” he says, taking a hesitant step forward.
I bend down at the waist and catch my breath while holding my hand out to stop him. “You stay away from me.”
“Let me explain.”
“No. You’re like the rest of them.”
I push him, and while he catches his step, I take off running in the opposite direction. I go this way to school every day, so I can walk it with my eyes closed. When I hear his steps and voice still calling my name, I duck behind a bush. I wait until I only hear the leaves rustling with the wind before standing up and starting the walk home.
I sniffle and wipe my eyes with every step.
I’m naive and stupid.
The loser never gets the fairy tale.
She gets the nightmare.
I’m ten minutes away from home when a car pulls up behind me.
My back goes straight while I contemplate whether to take off running or turn around.
This is it.
Straight out of a horror movie, this will be the night of my death. I say a silent prayer when I hear a door slam. Even if I wanted to make a run for it, my feet don’t want to move.
“Chloe!”
I whip around and zero in on the man headed in my direction. My heart pounds, but as he moves closer, I grow more comfortable.
“What are you doing out here?” he yells when he’s steps away. “You’re going to get yourself run over!”
I wipe away my never-ending tears, and my body trembles when I blow out a shaky breath. “I … I don’t want to talk about it.”
Sam stops and stares down at me. “What were you thinking?” He takes me in. He shoots a glance toward his car running, and then his attention moves back to me. “Come on. I’ll take you home, but you can’t say a fucking word. Do you hear me?” His face is laced with concern, but his voice is harsh.
I look past him toward the car, and my eyes widen. “I don’t need a ride.”
A head pokes out of the window. “Who is she?” he yells.
I squint, taking in the people in the vehicle before dragging my eyes to Sam. I’m just as confused as the voice asking who I am. “Who are those people?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he barks. “Now, do you want a ride or not?”
My lower lip trembles, and I want to wrap my arms around him. I want to tell him how terrible my night has been because Sam is my only friend. But I don’t. I don’t because, right now, this isn’t the Sam I know, and I’m not getting into a car with those people.
“No, I’m okay.”
“Chloe,” he warns.
“I’m fine,” I snap.
He stands tall. “This is the last offer I’m giving you.”
“I appreciate the offer, Sam, but I’m okay.”
He leans down to whisper in my ear, “Don’t say a word about this. You never saw this. You never saw me or them. Do you understand me?”
I nod, and the tears continue to fall.
I don’t start walking again until he pulls away.
When I get home, I throw the dress in the trash.
When I return to school, I’m no longer the class loner no one pays attention to.
I’m the joke. They laugh and point at me. I’m called the same names my sister is called. A photo of yours truly is plastered against my locker. The pain hits me as I take in the picture of me on the football field, and I cringe at the horror on my face in the photo.
“Chloe Fieldgain gave pussy on the football field,” is chanted down the hallway.
I slam my locker shut and flee to the restroom, locking myself in a stall as I cry again.
I’ve lived up to my family name because of him.
After the bell rings, I wipe my eyes and leave the restroom, unsure of what my next move will be.
Do I leave or cut class?
I round the corner to find Kyle waiting for me.
He’s in his football jersey, his hair is messy, and his green eyes are wide. He halts, glancing to each side of the hallway, and then moves closer.
“Chloe,” he draws out.
“You stay away from me,” I warn.
He takes another step until he’s standing in front of me. “Let me explain …”
The few people lingering in the hall gasp when I smack him across the face. “Go to hell, Kyle.”
I whip around and start walking away.
“Dude, she smoked you!” I hear a guy say to him in the background.
“She came to me, begging for a second round, and was pissed I told her to kick rocks,” Kyle says. “They always come back, wanting more.”
I freeze in my step, and my heart nearly explodes out of my chest. Is he kidding me?
“Dude, you’d better go get checked after that one.”
I hear someone smack him on the back.
“I always wrap it up,” he replies.
I cringe and ball my knuckles into fists while I talk myself out of turning around and punching him in the face this time.
I go home and vow to hate Kyle for the rest of my life.
As time passes, I learn to ignore the names, the rude gestures, and the condoms stuck to my locker.
I’m now known as the girl who gave it up to Kyle Lane on the football field.
Fourteen
Kyle
I admire Chloe in my bed like a stalker from a Lifetime movie. The sheet is pushed up her chest as she faces me, sleeping. I’m pushing a strong eight on the creep scale. I don’t stare at women
like this.
She’s beautiful—drop-dead fucking gorgeous.
The first time I saw her was in elementary school. She was front and center of the classroom, sitting there before anyone else arrived, with her attention on the book sitting on her desk. She was a stranger. I’d never seen her at any birthday parties or playdates. I was nervous when I took the seat next to her, but she never once glimpsed in my direction.
Her social isolation continued into middle school. Anytime I attempted to strike up a conversation, I was given short responses, and then she would go back into her shell of solitude.
Then, high school hit, and she talked to me. It wasn’t the conversation I had been hoping for. It was about grades. We held the top GPAs in our class, and grades were something she took seriously. She studied her ass off. Her attention was always focused on school, and everyone knew her end game was to be valedictorian. She wanted it enough to step out of her comfort zone and ask me to compare test grades.
She needed to become valedictorian more than me. You didn’t need to know her backstory to know she wasn’t as fortunate as I was. She walked to school, her off-brand sneakers were always in poor condition, and she never attended a field trip. She needed the scholarships more than me. I was headed to college whether or not I had them, so at times, I’d answer questions wrong to lower my test scores.
I liked her. I wanted to know more about her. She was naturally beautiful, both inside and out, and intelligent. She was kind to everyone, not just to those she deemed worthy, like most kids in my circle.
I finally gained the courage to ask her to the dance after Gage told me to stop pussyfooting around. He knew I crushed on her, and like me, he didn’t give a shit about outside influence. When she said yes, I was ecstatic. Sure, a few assholes made snide comments, but I didn’t care. I wanted to know more about Chloe Fieldgain, about the girl who seemed to be a shining star among others who dimmed with nothing.
Then, everything fell apart. I hate myself for how it went down.
After the dance, I had no way to contact her. She had no phone or email, and all anyone knew was that she lived in a trailer court on the west side.
Just Neighbors Page 11