by Rachel Leigh
“What now? Do you want to rejoin your friends?” I ask her, hoping that she says no.
“Nah,” she shakes her head. “Now that Petra is here, I suddenly feel nauseous.”
“Good. We can go get a head start on this project.”
“Aren’t we almost done with that?” She smirks.
“Umm, no. We have a lot to do. We’ve chosen our constellation and now we start our research. I really need you to start taking this seriously. Not all of us have our futures set in stone. My grades are my ride out.”
“Ok, I get it. It’s important to you. I suppose I can use a nice shiny A on a paper. My parents are sure to be proud.” She rolls her eyes. “Where do you plan on going to school anyway?”
“UCLA. Physics Major.”
“Dayuuuum. You’re like smart and shit, aren’t you?”
“Smart and shit.” I laugh. “If you call a 4.0 smart and shit then show me where to sign.” He laughs. “What about you? Do you plan on going off to some ivy league school that Daddy will sign a check for?
“If you must know, I’m not going to college.”
My eyes widen as I repeat her response in my head. “Why wouldn’t you go to college? It’s not like your family can’t afford it.”
People like me bust our asses all through life just to get into a good school. People like B have the opportunity in the palm of their hands from the day they are born. Why in the hell would she pass it up?
“Actually, I can afford it on my own. I don’t need my parents. As soon as I graduate high school, I get my trust fund and not a dime of it will be going to further my education at some institution. I’m buying a house for my brother and I and getting us both away from our parents and then I’m opening my own art studio, like The Atelier. It’s one of my favorite places to go alone.” She smiles. “Not every dream in life has to be fulfilled with a degree. Sometimes just a dream is enough.”
“Well, at least you have dreams. Without them, we just exist.”
“Alright.” She grabs her coffee and tosses her Burberry purse over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
I let her lead the way and she walks back over to her group, which has grown. Do people seriously just sit and hang out at the mall all day? It’s not even exciting. I’d rather sit in the living room with Knox and his boring ass friends than have small talk with these idiots.
“We’re taking off,” B says, directing her attention to Chloe and Meg.
Thank fuck.
“So soon?” Chloe whimpers.
“Yep, we’ve got a project to work on.” I cut in, giving B’s arm a tug. I can’t get out of this place soon enough. To my surprise, she follows my lead, giving a wave over her shoulder.
Chapter Eleven
Blakely
Control—It’s something that everyone wants but few fight for. It would be easy enough to just move on with my life, let Petra swoop in and take what I want, but easy is for the weak, and I am far from it. No one humiliates Blakely Porter and gets away with it. It’s just a bonus that my co-pilot is gorgeous as hell with a body that tortures me to the core. I look over at him as his eyes are fixated on the road, so attainable, so charming.
“What do you wanna do now?” He turns his head abruptly, catching me watching him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He does a double-take, trying to examine my expression while watching the road in front of him.
“No reason.” I smirk. “My parents are gone. We can work on the paper at my house.”
“Are your parents ever home?” He laughs, not knowing that my family is as dysfunctional as an eighty-year-old man’s penis.
“Not really.” I turn and look out the window, hoping he doesn’t expect me to elaborate.
“Work?”
“That amongst other things.”
“Don’t you have a little brother? Isn’t he ever home?’
“You’ll soon learn that my home is nothing but hell with fancy things. A hell that Talon and I try to avoid as much as possible.”
Talon is a good kid. He is young and he has a shot at being better than the rest of us. Unfortunately, with degenerate parental figures, neither of us has ever cared much about how our actions affect those around us. We shut off the part of our brain that allows us to feel empathy. We put on armor every morning to protect our hearts—our souls, because if they can’t touch us, they can’t hurt us. My heart swells thinking about my little brother and what a future in this ugly world looks like for him. Aside from Knox, he is the only person I even give a damn about.
“Sounds great, let’s go.” Jasper spews with sarcasm.
I let out a bought of laughter. “Talon is at a friend’s house. Let’s just go.” I swat his arm.
“We could always go to my house.”
I shrug. “We could do that, too.”
I’m not opposed to seeing Knox. It has been a couple of days since I’ve had a chance to really talk to him, aside from a few text messages yesterday. I’m not sure how Knox will react to my new friendship with Jasper, considering they can’t stand each other at the moment.
“On second thought, I should have never even mentioned the idea because Knox is the last person I want to see. Besides, I don’t want him stealing you away from me just yet.” He winks, sending a shiver through me—in a good way, an unexpected way.
“As if I’m yours to steal.”
“Today you are. Today that’s enough.”
My heart may have just jumped into my throat, I swallow hard, pushing it back down. I wonder what goes through this guy’s mind.
“Is this about last night?”
“Last night?” He questions, with a brush of confusion sweeping over his face as he looks at me.
“My room.” I pause. “Our little rendezvous. You know that was just two people releasing some built-up tension, right?”
“Of course. Look B, just because I let you hold my cock doesn’t mean I’m handing over my heart. I’ve seen firsthand what happens to the boys you fall for. I’m just here to hold you up.”
“Why?” I look at him, puzzled—confused. “Why are you being so nice to me? I certainly don’t deserve it.”
He’s silent for a minute.
“You remind me a lot of myself. I don’t know much about you, but I do know that you put on this tough girl act to protect yourself. I do the same.”
“Maybe.” I shrug.
“Remember when you told me not to mistake your kindness for weakness?”
I nod. Sounds like something I’d say.
“I am kind to those who deserve it, but when someone does not deserve it, weak is far from what they will remember. I self-destruct more than anything, but those who fuck me over, I demolish.” His voice quickly escalates from calm to enraged. I watch as his hands tighten over the steering wheel and his knuckles turn white.
“Woah, tough guy. Who pissed in your cheerios?”
“Today? No one. But there are people out there who have taken advantage of my family's weakness, our financial strain, and used it to their advantage. One day I will get revenge and when I’m through with them, I’ll resemble anything but that of a weak man.”
Seeing this other side to Jasper and hearing that he, too, has demons in his past, is enlightening. Often times, when we go through something hard, we think that we’re alone and that no one can ever understand what we are going through. I shut the world out when I go through those periods because I’m a very private person. It shouldn’t bring me happiness when I see others suffer, but it does. It makes me feel alive. I suffer inside daily, and I beg for normalcy inside my head. I thrive off of others’ pain because I carry so much inside that I need to know others hurt, too. It’s sad, very sad—but it’s the truth.
“So what happened?” I ask him. Feeling a strong desire to hear about what it is bringing him sadness.
He shakes his head, “Not today.”
“What’s the big deal?” I laugh, “Did someone leave a dent in this old girl?” I pat the
dusty dashboard, rubbing my hands together to rid them of the mess.
“Worse, much worse. Someone fucked with my entire life and played God through the justice system, leaving my mom’s memory a laughing joke at their dinner table. One day, I’ll find the sorry son of a bitch.” His square jaw ticks with anger, and I know that this has to be the end of this conversation. Jasper has never talked about his mom before. I know that she passed away, but I don’t know the sordid details, and it sounds as if I don’t want to.
We pull into my driveway, and Jasper kills the engine. “Those fuckers are still there.” He slaps the steering wheel.
“Who? Knox’s friends? They will be there all day. It’s Game Day Sunday at the Burton house.”
“Is that really a thing?”
“It really is. Knox and his buddies play every Sunday. They’ve done it for years.”
“Fuck my life. So, you’re telling me that every Sunday, these asshats will consume my space for a whole day?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” I smile much too big at his expression of disgust.
“How are you even friends with that guy? You’re like,” he waves his hands over me, looking my body up and down, “You. And he’s like a Grade-A nerd.”
“Knox is not a nerd. He just prefers to do more with his time than party and have sex with random women.”
“Are you suggesting that's what I like to do with my time?” He laughs. “Because it’s true.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I shake my head and let out a long sigh.
Guys like Jasper can pretty much get any girl they want. His rugged exterior becomes more appealing by the minute, and his words suggest that he is slightly broken, just like I am. Which is sexy as hell knowing that he may need mending. That he may need me.
We get out of the car and walk over to Jasper and Knox’s house.
When we walk in, all eyes shoot to us, but my focus is on one set—Knox. He doesn’t look pleased; in fact, he looks like he wants to charge us both, knocking Jasper senseless while knocking sense into me.
“Blakely,” he stands up, “Upstairs, please.” He takes the first couple of steps then stops to look back at me to see that I am not following. “Blakely?”
“I’ll be right back.” I exhale a drawn-out breath.
“Meet me in my room. I’m not staying down here with them.” He rolls his eyes and walks upstairs with his shoes still on. I watch as he shakes his head and lets out random growling noises the entire way up.
When we reach Knox’s room, he slams the door shut behind us. “Really, Blakely. Really? Jasper?” He hangs his head and runs his fingers through his sandy blonde hair.
“What’s the big deal? We’re just hanging out.”
“Blakely.” He tilts his head and looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind? “I know you. You don’t hang out with just anyone. You can barely tolerate your best friends; yet, you spend your time with that douche.” He points his finger at the door.
“People change. I’ve changed.” I flop down onto his bed and grab the remote, turning the TV on. I’ve spent so many nights in this room with Knox. Growing up, we were always back and forth at each other’s houses. As we’ve gotten older, we’ve gotten busier and we don’t get to spend nearly enough time together. When my parents would fight or when I’d go through a bought of insomnia, Knox would stay in my room with me all night, sometimes falling asleep sitting up, mid-sentence, because his voice always calmed my anxiety.
“Clearly, you have. Why him?” He grumbles.
“He’s been good to me, Knox. He treats me like a person and he’s easy to talk to.”
“Uhhh huh. Because you love to talk. I’m not buying it.”
“I do like to talk, mainly about myself, but he listens.”
“I listen.” He straightens up and puts his hand on my arm. “You have me, Blakely. You don’t need that guy.”
“I need him in a different way. You’ll always be my best friend, but let’s be real, there is so much I need that you can’t give me.”
He takes in a deep breath, scoots closer, a little too close. The room suddenly feels stuffy—tense, and I’m not sure how to take it.
“I could if you let me.”
“What are you doing?” I laugh, scooting back a little.
“Blakely, please. Stay away from him.”
“Is this because you think he’s just trying to get to you or because you’re protective over me?”
It has to be one or the other, both maybe. For a moment there, I thought Knox was implying that he was jealous, that he wanted to satisfy those needs himself.
“Partly. It’s also because I don’t want you to get hurt. He’s bad news.”
“Unless you know something I don’t, he seems like a decent human being.” I grab a pack of gum from the nightstand and unwrap a piece, popping it in my mouth.
“Be careful. Like, really careful.”
“Always am.”
“No.” He laughs sarcastically, “No, you’re not. You’re reckless and the one who gets wrecked in the process is always yourself.”
“Not always. Have you forgotten about the time that we had that bubble blowing contest and I stuffed a whole pack of this stuff in my mouth.” I hold up the pack of gum, then toss it at him. “I almost choked to death, but I won, and you ended up with a wad of it in your hair.”
“Yeah, and Mom had to shave my head because of it. What’s your point?”
“My point is, when I want something, I fight for it, and I don’t always get harmed in the process.”
“No, but at that time, I did because you blew such a big fucking bubble that it popped out of your mouth and landed on my head.”
“You forgave me.” I throw my arms around his neck. “Because you love me.”
“What the hell does this have to do with Jasper?” He laughs, pushing me off of him.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with him. I just like reminiscing with you. I’ve missed you, Knox.”
“You’re deflecting. Quit changing the subject. Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise,” I say, as I lean forward and give him a hug.
A knock at the door grabs our attention, and before Knox can speak or answer, the door swings open.
“Everything okay in here?” Jasper asks, as he appears in the doorway.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay the hell out of my room?” Knox huffs, shooting daggers at Jasper.
“Don’t you know that I do what I want?” Jasper braces himself with his arms stretched out and his hands pressed against the doorframe. His attention turns to me. “You okay?”
I nod and look down at the gum wrapper in my hand as I ball it up.
“I’ll come hang with you guys in a bit.” I turn to Knox.
“We’re heading into town to get a pizza,” He jumps off the bed. “Shouldn’t be more than an hour.”
I give him a nod before he walks to the door. Jasper presses his body against the doorframe to make room for his exit.
I don’t like being in the middle like this and I certainly don’t like making Knox feel inadequate in his own home.
Jasper tilts his head, gesturing me out of the room.
“Is your dad home?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so, why?”
I pull him into his bedroom.
When I hear the car doors shut, and I’m sure that Knox and the guys are gone, I push him against the door and slam my mouth onto his. Prying his lips open with my tongue forcing it in, he lets his guard down and accepts it.
Chapter Twelve
Jasper
With my back against the bedroom door, I cup her face in my hands, allowing her to gain the satisfaction of throwing herself at me momentarily. As much as I want this—damn, I want this; I can’t have her. I use my hands to try and break the suction of our mouths. When she doesn’t budge, I try and tell myself fuck it, take her here and now, but I can’t. It’s Levi she wants, I�
�m just a temporary replacement. She will leave once she gets what she wants. With him.
I press my hands against her chest, and she finally backs up.
“What’s wrong?” She looks at me with desperation in her eyes. Begging for more, more than a kiss, more than last night. “Jasper?” She moves her lips closer, but I turn my head. “What the hell?”
My resistance seems to have pissed her off—the queen is used to getting what she wants, and right now, she wants me.
“We can’t, B.”
“And why the hell not?” Her voice grows louder, and her arms drop to her side. I’m waiting for her to start throwing a tantrum like a toddler, but instead, she tries again.
“No.” I step past her, walking over to my dresser and pretending that I’m looking for something in the top drawer, an empty drawer because I haven’t even unpacked my boxes yet.
Last night was one thing, we were caught up in the moment, and at that time, it was us. After realizing how desperate she is to get Levi, I realize it’s not us, it’s her. It’s all about her, and I’m just a pawn in her game.
“What’s wrong with having a little fun?”
“Maybe you should go have fun with Levi.” My voice is harsh, and while I was thinking it in my head, I wasn’t planning to say it out loud. I fumble with a couple of papers on the top of the dresser to refrain from looking at her. If I do, if I see the agony in her eyes again, I may not be able to stop myself.
“Wait a minute,” she perks up. I can feel her getting closer. “Are you... jealous?” She rests her chin on my shoulder while my back is still facing her. I can tell by the tone in her voice that she is no longer confused, she’s now pleased with herself.
“Fuck no, I’m not jealous.” I say, grazing my eyes over my acceptance letter to UCLA as if I’m reading it, when I’m actually just looking at the words.
I feel her arms wrap around me as her hands worm their way up my shirt. Her warm fingers lightly gliding over my rigid abs. I close my eyes and try to regain my focus on something else, anything else. Football. A McRib Sandwich. Mowing the lawn. Fucking anything.