by Shel Stone
“And you’re surprised after what you did?”
“Maybe in a way, I was trying to undo the damage that I’ve caused.”
“And why would you do that?”
“For the same reason I asked her to…” For a moment, he faltered, not quite knowing how to finish the sentence. “Be mine.” It sounded so wrong to say it. It sounded final, and this was never meant to be final, because instinctively, he knew there was something awkward and dangerous there. But then he dismissed it. Cecily Chambers posed no danger to him—she didn’t have it in her. Still, it was infinitely uncomfortable saying that. It only proved this bullshit all needed to be laid to rest.
Morgan was silent for a moment.
“I have to say, Morgan, you’ve surprised me with your loyalty. Few people would have had the spine to do what you did. Can’t lie and say it hasn’t taken a toll on your rep, because it has. Some people around here think you’re too stupid to see the writing on the wall.”
“People around here are too stupid to see anything,” Morgan shot back.
“Sadly, that’s true. At the beginning of the year, I had honestly stopped giving a shit about what any of the people here think,” he said.
“So why should I?”
“Well, I am a lot stronger than you.”
“No fault with your misplaced self-esteem.”
“We both know it isn’t misplaced,” he said, a bit disappointed in her. “Do you know why I lashed out at Cecily?”
“She said some bullshit you had against her dad.”
“She tried to undermine me. It wasn’t her fault. Unwitting on her part, but it was there all the same. What’s the difference between someone who accidentally kills you and someone who purposefully does it? You’re still dead, in the end.”
“I thought you were implying you can’t be touched by mere mortals.”
“Well, I can’t now.”
“So you’re saying your little strategy was a success.”
“Yes, actually.”
“And now you feel bad and want her to be your girlfriend? You clearly think I am as stupid as everyone else does. But the writing I see on the wall says ‘bullshit’. What do you want from her, Adrian? Why are you fucking here?”
“Maybe I liked fucking her,” he said. There was a grain of truth in that, and nothing was as effective a lie as the truth.
Getting up, Morgan pushed her chair back. “Well, she’s kind of looking elsewhere.”
The statement jarred into his head. “What do you mean?” How had he not seen this? “Who?”
“Mont.”
“Monty Gibson?” Now there was a disturbing thought. Fucking Monty? The guy was a fucking poster-boy for bland. Anger rose inside him, and disappointment. How could she be so pedestrian?
“They’re DM-ing. She’s got a nice little crush going, so just leave her alone. You’ve done your thing, now leave her out of this little residual bullshit you have going on, whatever it is.”
Morgan walked away into one of the supply rooms and Adrian stayed where he was, not quite able to determine who had won that infraction. Fucking Monty entering the picture wasn’t something he’d foreseen. He smiled. Cecily had gone the one place he didn’t have influence. Nicely played. The perfect counter-step.
As he walked out of the art department, part of him was seething. Fucking Monty. This scene that had been quite simple had now become more complex. Cecily was muddying the waters. Monty the fucking jock. Cecily wasn’t the kind of girl that chased jocks, so what the hell was she doing? No way could she burn for Monty like she had with him. That wasn’t something you just switched off, because they burned like hydrogen. Adrian had known it then and knew it now. He’d still done what had needed doing. Maybe because that burning was the threat—had been the reason he’d wanted her out of town at the earliest opportunity. Because if she stayed…
This wasn’t shit he wanted to think about. Least of all the possibility that his latest tactics had been fronts for something he refused to accept.
But if she was into Monty, then she was clearly not the girl he had started envisioning her as. Monty might be good on the field, but the guy had no passion. The kind of guy who did shit to please his mother. The golden boy from start to end. If that was what she was into, there was no hope for her.
“Hey, Adrian—”
“Fuck off,” he said without turning to look at who it was. Right now, he didn’t care. It wasn’t a good time to speak to him for any reason.
It was almost frightening how deep the disappointment was—a disappointment in her. It was as though he’d been sold something to find out it was just a cheap imitation. Bone deep disappointment. Fuck, he should have known.
*
Cecily had started entering the cafeteria. Didn’t stay, just bought whatever she wanted and walked away. Sat with Morgan in the square if it was a dry day. When it was wet, he had no idea where they fucked off to.
Sitting in his usual spot, he saw her enter the doors to the cafeteria, her hair out, golden curls. Her cheeks were rosy with the cold. Immediately her eyes went to the lacrosse players. Fucking Monty looked over and smiled, Cecily smiled back. Yep, that was a crush. Maybe more. Cecily wanted it to be more. The ball was in Monty’s court—except Monty was a cautious bastard, because he did fucking relationships, and he wasn’t sure about Cecily.
Cecily bought a croissant and an apple, then threw a last look toward the lacrosse players, before turning her back and strolling out again. She walked like there were wings under her feet. Cecily was putting shit behind her and looking to the future—one with Monty as her boyfriend. Was Monty aware of her ambitions? He’d be an idiot if not.
Fucking Monty. Anyone else in the school and this would be easy to deal with. Monty had a habit of thinking he was better than everyone else. But he was also a bit hung up on his ex, Emma, which was probably the source of his caution with Cecily.
The last possible thing Monty wanted to see would be him hitting on Emma. It might send Monty running, but messing with Emma was just gag-worthy at the moment. Emma and Monty were perfectly suited, which means she was fundamentally revolting. Nothing wrong with the girl on the surface, but she was a clueless moron. Totally Monty’s style.
Getting up, Adrian left the cafeteria, but he had nowhere to go. There was nowhere he wanted to go. School had no interest, but then neither did anything beyond. Maybe he needed a vacation—some time in the sun, but it wasn’t particularly calling to him either. He was just frustratingly bored.
Alcohol, sex—anything to get him out of this nothingness. But they were remedies that just didn’t work. A momentary distraction, then simple realization it didn’t work. He knew it didn’t work. “Fuck,” he said and wanted to punish something for Cecily disappointing him so severely. Getting out his phone, he texted her. You’re shit.
If she got it or not, he didn’t know. Too angry to care.
Chapter 28
A PING CAME THROUGH on Cecily’s phone and she saw the text come in. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to block him, but maybe she should, she thought as she read it. “That’s random.” It made no sense to her. They hadn’t even spoken for quite a while. It was just out of the blue, as if he was carrying on a conversation she wasn’t a part of. Maybe he’d sent it to the wrong person. If so, who was he sending it to?
“What?” Morgan said and Cecily handed the phone to her. Morgan frowned as she looked at it. “I think you should stay away from him for a while,” she finally said.
“Why? What do you think it means?”
Morgan was chewing her lip. “Nothing.” It didn’t look like nothing. It looked like she was gravely concerned.
“What?” Cecily pressed. “There’s something.”
“It’s just that I think he knows about your interest in Mont.”
“How would he know that?” Now Morgan looked downright guilty and Cecily stared at her. “If there’s something I need to know, then I need to know.”
> “He came to see in in art class,” Morgan confessed.
“What did he want?”
“Uhmmm,” Morgan said, stretching it out for time as if something would come in and they didn’t have to have this conversation.
“You’re the reason he knows I’ve got a thing for Mont,” Cecily finally said.
Morgan didn’t look guilty, but she still looked like she was under the gun. There was something.
“I told him because he said that…” she paused. “That he liked fucking you.”
Cecily frowned.
“And that he’d kind of suggested to you that you two should… reconsider.”
“Reconsider? After what he’s done? Seriously, is this guy on drugs?” Cecily said, probably a little too loudly.
“It’s Adrian and when he speaks, he expects people to lap it up. And you saying no, turning your attention to Mont, is probably too much for him to cope with.”
And Adrian had just seen her flirting with Mont in the cafeteria, Cecily realized. And then came the text. “Well, he can just suck it.” After what he’d done, how could he expect anything different? Seriously some of these boys were just insane in their sense of entitlement. Adrian was the worst.
But underneath, there was another thought, a worry about what Adrian would do now. Would he come at her again? If so, she wasn’t sure what else he could take away. Worryingly, he had approached Morgan behind her back. Morgan was the only thing she had here. And a crush on Mont. There was nothing Adrian could fucking do about her crush. Except whisper vile stuff in Mont’s ear. But then Morgan had said that Mont was the only person Adrian didn’t have influence over. Was that even true? She wouldn’t put it past him to tattle some truly disgusting stuff about her. Question was if Mont would believe it.
Worries tumbled through her head, trying to determine what he could possibly say about her and how she could counteract it. Could she potentially warn Mont that Adrian might try?
Maybe she shouldn’t. Maybe she should see how Mont would react. If he would just follow the herd and buy anything Adrian wanted him to. What was the point of a guy who believed every bit of slander that floated around? If a guy didn’t stick around and find out what she was truly like, was he worth anything at all?
Still, it was hard not to feel panic at the thought of Adrian coming after her.
Accepting her phone back, she stared at the text. That had to be an instinctual reaction rather than something Adrian had thought out. For a moment, she wondered again if she should block his number. Not that he didn’t have hers and could simply switch phones. But there was something of a point of pride in not doing so, in having a line of communications open. It meant she wasn’t running away. Not that she was hankering to engage with him. No, she was just going to get on with her life—see if Mont had any backbone in him. Hopeful he did.
*
Mercifully, things were silent for a while. Cecily didn’t notice any particular uptick in people’s derisiveness toward her. As per usual, she came to class at the latest opportunity, particularly late today as traffic had been bad. The bell was ringing just as she walked into the building, and she didn’t have time for much of anything.
People were rushing and Cecily frantically worked her lock to get her English Lit book, but just as she opened her locker, a hand pushed it close.
“He’s not going to fall for it, you know,” Adrian said. His hand barring her way.
“Fall for what?” There was little guessing who he was talking about. The hall cleared as students shut themselves in their classes. “I’m missing class.” Cecily didn’t bother turning to look at him.
“You’ll fool him for a little while, play the victim.” His other hand shut her in and he stood behind her.
“I am the victim. I don’t think anyone in the school would claim otherwise considering what you did.”
Adrian was silent for a moment, he but didn’t release her.
“We both know,” he said, leaning closer, “that if given the opportunity, you’d stick the knife in.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That you’ll fight dirty if it suits you.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“He won’t see it at first, because that’s not how he’s wired. But he will eventually. He’ll see that you’re not quite as virtuous as you make out.” Stepping closer, Cecily felt him at her back, a mix of emotions rushing through her. “Because we both know you’d stick the knife in if you had the chance. You’d hurt me if you could.”
“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Adrian.”
Softly, she felt him lean his forehead to the back of her head. This felt familiar, but she refused to take it in. But it felt as if they’d been here before. Somehow, they seemed to return to this, some sick form of intimacy.
“I still put fire in your blood,” he said softly. “He’ll never do that for you.” Fury rushed through her body—an embarrassment that she had felt that heat when he’d touched her. She wished it had never been there, but it had been and he knew it. He taunted her with it.
“I don’t want you,” she said as harshly as she could. “You were a mistake I made once, that’s all.”
“Really? You don’t think about me every second of the day? When you wake up. When you go to sleep. Do you wonder where I am, what I’m doing?”
Yes, damn it, she did, but most from which direction he would come at her from.
“Do you think of me when you touch yourself?” His lips were so close to her ear it sounded as if he was inside her head. Cecily reacted violently, elbowing him in the gut as hard as she could. No, she hadn’t, but she wasn’t going to reward him with an answer just because he wanted one.
“You’re a sick fuck.” She marched away to class, which was the only place that felt safe right now. Unfortunately a class where she sat next to him, but there was a teacher and a whole class to keep him in check. She’d known he’d come at her, but she hadn’t expected this.
“And you’re not pristine enough for him. Eventually he’ll see that.”
Cecily stopped in her tracks, because something about his accusation rang true. It was what made him so devastating at what he did, because he used the truth as his weapons. She wasn’t perfect. At times she could be petty and bitchy. “At least I try,” she stated, turning back to him. He was anything but perfect and he seemed to revel in it. As if he specifically showed how imperfect he was. How horrid he was.
“Try to show them how well you can hide behind a façade. The perfect victim.”
There was a good ten yards between them. “You made me a victim.”
“You fought back.”
Was that inexcusable in his book? “So?”
“Is your interest in fucking Monty anything other than as a weapon in this thing between us? Because you know he’s the one guy who’s so perfect, that nothing fucking touches him.” There was both truth and sarcasm in his voice.
“Maybe I am interested in him because he’s cute, and kind, and if I sleep with him, he’s not going to film it and put it on the internet. There’s something to be said for a guy like that.”
“Except Mr. Perfect is looking for Mrs. Perfect. And that’s not you.”
“Screw you, Adrian,” Cecily said and turned away again. She hated how he could see things about her, things she tried not to show or acknowledge. It was what made him so devastatingly effective.
Luckily for her, Adrian had some decency and didn’t come to class. His chair remained empty. Where he went, she had no idea, and absolutely refused to wonder about. This was all a way of blocking her from what she wanted. A way of putting doubt in her mind. And a means of stopping her from getting out from under his thumb. Because Adrian like to torture her, with her doubts, her self-esteem, the desire she had felt for him. Clearly she didn’t feel it anymore. The fact that her skin contracted when he was near her was from revulsion. And it absolutely didn’t feel… magnetic when he stood so close
to her. He seemed to know and he taunted her with it—that little part of her that still wanted him. A part she couldn’t understand. How could she after what he’d done? It felt like the ultimate self-betrayal.
Now he wanted to destroy her chances with Mont? Why was that? Was it simply that he wanted to destroy something that would potentially make her happy? Was her happiness plain not allowed? What was it about her that annoyed him so much? He wanted her gone, then he propositioned her. But it hadn’t just been a proposition of sex, which would probably make more sense, but something more permanent. Why? Why would he want that?
The one thing that was clear was that she wasn’t shaking Adrian’s focus on her. Presumably, he would have done his act of sabotage and then been done with her, like he’d said, but he wasn’t. This was continuing and she didn’t understand why. Every single message he was giving her was contradicting everything else he said.
As Mr. Anderson read aloud some passage they were supposed to be discussing, she brought out her phone and scrolled through to the text screen. What do you want from me? First it was her vanquishment, which she could understand if she stretched and viewed it from his fucked-up, uber masculine, I-rule-the-world-and-you-threatened-my-position perspective. Then control, but with intimacy. Why would he want that when he hated her so much? It just wasn’t logical. So she waited for a response. If nothing else, they could get that straight. But no answer returned.
“Pussy,” Cecily said out loud, drawing a confused and disapproving look from the person in front of her. As he was so adamant on her being honest about her character and that she wasn’t perfect, he could own up with honesty about himself.
Chapter 29
DISTURBINGLY. ADRIAN didn’t have a ready answer to her question. He wanted Monty out of the fucking picture. That’s what he wanted. And he wanted to come in her mouth, but it would be a lie to say that was all he wanted. He wanted to win, but he didn’t exactly know what that looked like. Although the mental image of him coming in her mouth was highly distracting.