Giggling, I push him away and he smirks, but the humor dies down almost immediately. He kisses me then, long and hard. Our bodies press together, then he wraps an arm around me and takes me back to his bed.
“Please.” I beg.
“No,” he murmurs. “Stay.”
Then he goes back to his bathroom. I assume it’s to brush his teeth. I sniff his pillow, wanting him back. When he comes back, he tucks me on my side, his large hand on my hip, then he spoons me, sheltering me in the eye of my storm.
We didn’t sleep, but I heard his strong, pounding heart beating in tune mine and I knew, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be when I’m in pain but in his arms.
And now, it’s Monday. It’s graduation week at Clintwood and at St. Jude High and I’m just so…numb.
“Which one of your faces will you be wearing today?” Liam hollers from his ‘favorite’ kitchen stool, a big bowl of Fruit Loops in front of him. I spin around and pin him with a hard glare that only makes him smile, his eyes glinting with evil mirth.
The gorgeous fool gets on my nerves, and he loves that, but even when he annoys me to death, he’s got nothing on his brooding older brother. Liam studies me from the top of my hair, to my heels, tilting his head to the left.
“What’s your problem?” I snap, folding my arms, getting ready for a confrontation.
“Something’s up with you,” he murmurs, observing me like he’s trying to figure something out as he waves his spoon in circles at me.
“Well, everything’s up with me, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I have noticed alright,” he mutters then, he looks at me. I see it before it takes root.
“Don’t you dare!” I mutter and he shrugs.
“Don’t what?” he grumbles, Fruit Loops in his mouth.
“Don’t look at me with sympathy like I’m wounded or I’m going to explode. I’m fucking fine.”
He throws his hands up in surrender, then he waves his spoon at me, a smirk on his face
“That’s not what I meant though.”
“What did you mean then?”
“You look like you got a big O.”
I freeze, fighting to stay composed and keep my resting bitch face intact.
Can he smell the smell the self-betrayal on me? The lies? The countless forbidden kisses that I shared with his brother last night? I discreetly touch my swollen lips, chancing a glance at Julian. His eyes darken as he stares at my lips, making me shiver with awareness.
“Yeah, you even have the glow…” Liam says, studying me.
Shit! Can he see the hickeys on my neck that I spent minutes covering up with make-up? Can he tell that I was in his brother’s bed, with his had his hand in my…
“It’s called taking a shower,” I start with a condescending smile on my face that I learned from the best—him—proud of myself when my voice comes out steady and aloof. “You should try it sometime. It might help you with your lacking game. Might, being the operative word.”
Liam throws his head back and start laughing, the arm in a cast pressed at his side, then just as quickly he winces in pain.
“Stop it, your ribs aren’t healed yet.” I grumble, stepping into the kitchen, unable to enjoy the look of pain on his face.
“Aww, look at that, J,” Liam groans, trying to sit up right in the stool. “Her cold heart thaws sometimes.”
I can feel Julian’s intense gaze on me, watching every move I make. His rough voice from last night is still so damn fresh in my head I can still hear the timbre in it that made me a shiver when he whispered reassurances in my ear that everything’s going to be alright.
And now, I can’t look at him because while he was sleeping, I snuck out of his bed when common sense came barreling in.
Last night was more than a mistake, but it was plain crazy and so damn addictive, I want to crawl under him all over again.
“What can I say? I have to mix it up at times.” I clear my throat, refusing to look at Julian.
“By the way, my game is still on point, cast or no cast.” Liam smirks, his voice dropping low. “You know that more than anyone.”
I feel the flame in my cheeks before I can control it. Fuck.
“But that’s not it, cupcake,” Liam tsks, watching me. He leans in, as if to take a closer look at me. Then he glances at his brother, suspicion in his eyes. “If you ask me, I think—”
“Well, no one asked you, so suck it, Liam.” I cut him off, turning on my heel to leave.
“Nah, I know,” he calls after me. “You finally saw just how much my brother hates your guts, huh?”
I stop, my shoulders tense, but I don’t turn around.
“But to be fair, your aunt and mom, whichever one they are now, did come in here and disrupt our lives,” he continues, his voice dropping to that low pitch that tells me that he’s angry. “Hell, Mom’s hates your guts too.”
“Your mother a bitch and I don’t give a damn if you take offense.” I seethe, then fish out my lip gloss to touch up my make-up. I can be numb, I could carry a broken, heavy heart all day as it pounds away in my chest, but I won’t be caught looking anything less than flawless.
“Nope, no offense taken here. Where do you think we both get if from?”
“Liam.” It’s one word but it stops everything in the kitchen. Liam stops talking, his gaze shifting from his brother in one corner of the kitchen to me, like he’s trying to piece something together.
I stand there, sensing the brewing storm building in the kitchen.
Liam chuckles, looking down at his Fruit Loops like he just discovered a well-hidden secret that he’s not sure how to feel about.
“You know, I think you should go with that half empathetic, half bored face you had three days ago. It goes well with your backstabbing friends who are trying to find out where you live.”
What the fuck?
“Liam,” Julian starts, his voice cool, composed and so damn low, the threat in it still very clear. But last night, that deep voice made me feel things. “I’m sure she knows how to lie and pretend around her lowly subjects. After all, she taught them well.”
Just then, Nicky walks into the kitchen, wearing a silk robe, looking delicately heartbroken. As soon as she sees me though, her face transforms into one of travesty.
“Mia, can we talk?’ she questions, her voice airy. Liam and Julian silently watch, making me roll my eyes.
“Can’t,” I say, grabbing an apple from the bowl. “I’m busy trying to work off the fact that I was thrown away in trash.”
And with that, I leave, the numbness back ten-fold.
“Ahh here she is,” some bitch from my school says the moment I enter the main hall. “The broke, fake ass ice queen.”
Murmurs and giggles greet me, but I keep going like I’m deaf to all of it and that alone, makes them so confused. I guess they were expecting me to react in some way, maybe curse them out dramatically but I’m just…empty.
I grab my books from my locker, then make my way to my classes for the day. Lesson after lesson, I can feel their stares on me. I can hear their whispers and speculations, but I don’t say a word.
Until lunch time.
I can feel the danger ripe in the air the moment I push through the doors of the cafeteria. I can see the shock written on random faces. I bet they didn’t expect me to show my face in here today, but I’m not a fucking coward.
“Broke ass Mia!” a cheerleader starts as soon as she notices me. For the life of me, I don’t even know her name, so I ignore her, until the girl behind her speaks.
“All hail, the ever so damn flawless, Ice Queen of Clintwood Academy!” I freeze the moment I hear the happy glee in her voice. She starts clapping in tune with her fake ass pair of home painted red bottoms, clicking on the cafeteria floor like she’s been practicing that walk for days.
“All hail the lying Queen B,” someone else says and the cafeteria burst out into uncomfortable laughter.
Kristine struts
over to the middle of the cafeteria, a cunning smile on her face as she looks at me, eyes glistening with pride. In this moment, she looks like every bit the backstabbing, hateful, jealous bitch Rye and Jaz warned she was.
“All hail, the ruined, ugly queen.” She throws her head back and laughs, all eyes are on the two of us. “How does it feel, Mia? To be you.”
She’s the girl who worked with Shane to set me up. She’s the friend that pushed me to talk to him that night. She’s the one who said I should be excited to get together with that douchebag.
She’s the one who has hated me since forever, pretended to be my best friend.
That raging anger comes back as I look at her, so I summon every bit of me that still has a fight left in the crevices of my soul. I need to take this bitch down.
“What do you mean, sweetie?” I start, then I flip my hair over my shoulder. “I know you’ve always wanted to be me, so I’ll tell you how the climate is in Above Your Fucking Comprehension Land; it’s fan-fucking-tastic!”
When her jaw drops to the floor, I spin on my heel about to make my way to the buffet.
“No, I mean how does it feel to be an outcast? A pariah that everyone hates?”
I stop, then turn to look at her.
“See, Mia,” she starts, her voice clear and loud, perfect for the show she’s just put on. “This isn’t just any day. This is the day you fucking bow down to the real queens and stop walking around here like you own shit. You’re nothing now but a poor attempt at a rich bitch.”
The laughter and hoots ring in the cafeteria, making her smile even more sinister. So, I tilt my head to the left and the room falls silent, all eyes on me.
“Kristine,” I start my voice sympathetic. "I guess this is the moment you've been waiting for all your life, isn't it?”
"What?" She huffs, looking uncomfortable. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I sense the shift in the room the moment I start talking. Looking around, no one can hold my gaze, but the excitement in their eyes only grows wilder like a fire as they wait for the show.
"Oh, you know, this moment that you've been salivating over your whole life, waiting in the shadows of my image, just hoping to get everyone's attention, again, because of me, only to tell me that I'm no one."
I let out a genuine laugh, shaking my head and make sure to keep my voice light and friendly, not at all how raw and numb I feel inside. "You think you can stand in front of me, with your discounted hoops, dollar store heels, blotchy make-up and dethrone me?"
"What?" she stutters, suddenly awkward and red faced. "I'm not wearing—"
"Kristine, sweetie." I make sure to put as much sugary sarcasm in that word. "I thought I taught you better that that. Own your ugly lies, love."
"Stop it! Didn't you hear what I just said," she rushes to say as the snickers in the cafeteria rise, people shaking their heads at her. "You're now an outcast in this school. Actually, in this town!"
"Sure, because what?" I take a step back, noticing Roxy and Char standing right inside, proud looks on their face as they watch the show. I don’t know how it happened, but I think they’re on my side. "Because you said so?"
"No, the Fitz brothers..."
I cut her off by walking toward her, a smile on my face.
"Come now, Kristine, create your own image,” I start. “I've always been better, and I will always be the one you envy the most. You wish you were me. And when that didn't work, you decided to play with these barbies thinking you can all gang up on me, hurling accusations at me that you have no clue about."
I point at the cheerleaders behind her, then look at them. “You fit right in with snakes.”
Laughter rings through the cafeteria as the cheerleaders gasp, looking affronted but they look away, unable to even stand up for themselves.
“Mia, so help me God…”
“No, sweetie, let me help you.” I step right into her personal space. "Do yourself a favor, sweetie. Get a life."
And with that, I spin on my heel just as the bell rings and make my way out. I’m done with school for the day.
“Okay, all you miserable little shits, back to your exhausting passionless lives!” Char shouts behind me. I can hear Roxy following me.
“Please don’t.” I shoot over my shoulder and she stops, then I push my way through the door and make my way to my car and I’m out. I don’t know if it’s instinct or maybe I’m just masochistic like that, but I end up back at my old house. There’s a sold sign at the front that makes my heart beat faster and I start sweating.
No, this can’t be happening. They can’t have sold this house that fast. I know it’s possible, this is Palos Verdes after all. Real estate is alike a gold mine here, everyone wants a piece but not my old home?
29
Parking my car in the driveway, I get out and run, literally run to the front door, not caring that I’m trespassing. Oh God, I’m losing everything right before my eyes and there’s no one fighting for me but me.
The front door is locked. I reach behind the old flowerpot Mom... I mean, Nancy got when she went to Prague. The old key is there but when I slide it in, it doesn’t budge. The new owners must have changed the locks.
I look around, then round the house to the secret back entrance I used when I’d sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to party. My heart’s in my throat and I feel like I’m being stabbed in the back repeatedly by some unknown force. The old door is unlocked, as I always left it, so I sneak into the house.
It’s dead silent, like a morgue but for some reason, it feels different from the last time I was here. And that was the night Julian burnt…
No, I’m not thinking about that. So, I look around, trying to find a clue as to who the new owners might be, but there’s nothing. There are boxes lining the wall of the living room and in the kitchen. Just basic shit like cutlery and books, but no identity.
My home’s being taken and I’m on the verge of a breakdown. Everything’s being stripped away from me, but I run down to the ballet studio, praying that it’s not different.
Bursting into the room, I breathe a sigh of relief when everything is still the same. It looks completely untouched.
I spend the rest of the day there, until I’m so exhausted, with my heart still aching. When I walk back into the Fitz mansion, the lights are out and I’m thirsty and hungry. I haven’t eaten in so long, and I’m only now paying attention to my grumbling stomach.
“She left her phone in her room,” a voice says, and I freeze mid-step. “I bet you she did that deliberately.”
I think that’s Liam. But who is he talking to…about me?
“I don’t blame her,” another gruff voice says. “I mean, all the bombs that have been dropped on her these past few weeks, I’d ignore the world too.”
I press my back against the wall, then peer into the kitchen. I can see Liam and Cole sitting at the breakfast nook, beers and burgers in front of them. The hairs at the back of my neck stand up on end, a frisson of awareness runs through me when I realize something. There are three people in there. I just can’t see him.
“Yeah, well, you’d definitely know from experience, right Cole?” Liam laughs, then pats Cole’s back. “There’s no one better at ignoring the rest of us mere mortals than you.”
“Shut up, Little Liam.” Cole laughs, then drinks his beer. “I’m just saying, she has a right to feel.”
“That girl doesn’t allow herself to feel. Right now, wherever she is, she’s fighting her shit like it’ll go away.” Liam takes a bite of his burger.
“And how do you know that?” Cole questions.
“I know shit,” Liam mumbles in between chewing. “Besides, I think we’re friends, well, I’m going to force her to be. After all, she’s about to be my step-sister! The incest that’s about to rock this fa—”
“Liam.”
That one word makes everything in me tighten, then I see him stepping into the light, but his body is ha
lf in the shadow, half in the light above the nook.
“What?” Liam shrugs, a mischievous smile on his face. “We all know that you called dibs on that.”
“I don’t call dibs on anything,” Julian growls. “Least of all on her.”
Liam and Cole exchange glances, smirks on their faces.
“Good man,” Cole starts. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I tap that. She looks like she’s got mad gymnast skills.”
“She’s not a gymnast, asshole, she’s a ballet dancer,” Julian growls, a joint between his lips. Am I? Or did I just want to follow in the steps of the woman who I believed was my mother all these years?
“Even better.” Cole rubs his hands together. “Ballet dancers do those turns and shit, and they’re flexible as hell. Fuck, I’m feeling some type of way right about n—”
“Cole, I swear to God, if you don’t shut your damn mouth—” Julian cuts him off.
Both Liam and Cole throw their heads back and start laughing but I can’t breathe.
“We’re not going to fucking talk about her. As far as I’m fucking concerned, she’s bad news.”
“Oh, come on, J,” Liam starts. “Bad news to who? You have your own shit with her that has nothing to do with the bigger picture, but you know damn well she’s a fucking good girl.”
“Really?” Julian says and for a moment I think he looks directly at me when he says that.
“Well, she’s rebellious, cold-hearted, twisty and all that mess, but she’s still good.”
“That’s bullshit and you should know better than to trust her so easily.”
“I’m not like you. I don’t have trust issues,” Liam counters. “Her crown is broken, J. She’s broken.”
“Puppets break all the time, Liam.” His voice is hard, but the moment his gaze spots me standing in the shadows, I still in my tracks. My heart stops beating, the blood that was rushing through my veins stops and freezes over like I’ve just been plunged into a freezer. As I hold his gaze, I notice he isn’t shocked to see me. His voice doesn’t change one bit. Liam doesn’t see what he sees in the shadows. “But that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t learn their lesson.”
Devious Kisses: A Bully Enemies -To-Lovers Romance (It's Just High School Book 1) Page 35