“Oh, that is nasty.” Glen fake-gags, catching on.
Olar chuckles. “If I weren’t on watch the girls’ duty, she’d be getting it in the utility closet right now.”
We laugh loud, our humor echoing down the empty hall.
“Not the utility closet,” Glen banters, unable to stop laughing. “The photo lab’s much better. It’s a couch in there.”
I crack up, dropping my bag of chips.
Olar tilts his head back and pinches his nose. Forging his bogus thought, he taps his chin, and then quickly shakes his head. “Nah,” he objects. “No couch needed. Her heels are tall enough; I bag her standing up.”
“Eww!” Glen and I gag, turning up our noses.
We laugh through the rest of lunch, talking about Olar’s disgusting interest in Mrs. Kimble and her unsubtle response to it. I appreciate the two of them making today a hell of a lot easier. The distraction eases the discomfort and the sway Roehl and Nathan has on my mind. The joy in Glen’s brightened eyes and huge smile shows she’s better too.
Olar’s surprised me. He’s opened himself up for our comfort and brightened his ‘ruthless’ image to one a little less intimidating. But English is awkward. Mrs. Kimble and Olar can’t be more obvious. He’s observably a distraction as she sits behind her desk, stealing admirable glances while caressing the front of her neck. She can’t finish a complete sentence without flicking her gaze to the back of the classroom. I resist looking back at Olar to see in what ways he’s tempting her. She’s going to break some major teacher-student rules.
Standing, she passes out an assignment that requires we write a page-long essay on our thoughts of William Ernest Henley’s Invictus. She excuses herself once the class has settled down, and not five minutes later, Olar’s passing me.
I’ll be right back, Tracey. He looks at me before heading out of the door.
I gawp in awe, slack-jawed, unable to believe this is happening. Oh, I will tease him forever about this.
Five minutes before the bell rings, Mrs. Kimble returns looking more together than she left.
I leave class, spotting Olar waiting for Glen and me across the hall. “Really?” I jest, plucking a mop string from his shoulder and another from his hair. “Didn’t you see this stuff before you left?”
He knits his brows and smirks, trying to hold back his laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, right,” I quip, smacking his stomach with the back of my hand.
He hooks his arms around Glen’s and my neck, and we head for Glen’s locker. “She’d started doing this thing with her legs and giving me this eye. You two were fine.”
I want to laugh, but I won’t draw attention to us. “Yeah, those fifteen minutes she was gone, nothing happened,” I state sarcastically. Glen laughs, kicking off my fit of giggles.
We leave to the parking lot, free of attackers and angry peers. At least of enemies, but the angry faces of our friends is another story. They block the doors of Taylor’s car. “Are you guys going out or not?” Rachel asks. “I mean, the least y’all can do is come since y’all stood us up over break and have been ditching us.” She puckers her lips and flicks her gaze to Olar. “And being around the hottest guys and not offering me one.” She winks at him.
“What are they, chocolate?” I sass.
She hitches a brow, staring Olar down, starting at his boots and stealthily moving up to his face. “If he wants to be,” she croons.
Wow. She’s serious. I drag my annoyed gaze away from her to Olar.
No! he enunciates arrogantly.
I chuckle. “No, thanks, Ray. We have plans today.”
“Whatever, Tracey.” She rolls her eyes and shifts her gaze to Glen. “And you?”
“Tracey answered for the group of us. If one don’t go, no one goes. Sorry, cupcake.”
Rachel huffs, irritated by our rejection. Ignoring the clear lack of interest Olar has for her, she walks up to him, leaning too close to his face. But he doesn’t move. Warbling in his ear, she whispers some un-lady like things. The corner of his mouth twitches and a glimmer rests in his soft blue eyes. She wraps up her skanky secrets and turns off to leave.
Olar grabs her wrist, pulling her back to him and whispers in her ear, “I might have to take you up on that.”
She nods, turning to kiss his neck. Pulling back, she adds, “You name the place.” Then she walks off, following the other girls.
My lip curls, disgusted by their exchange. He will not be naming a place to meet her to do anything. I know Rachel and her slutty ways all too well, and she is not getting involved with my cousin too.
He returns my glare, blurting, “What?!”
I avert my eyes from him, muttering, “Nothing. Don’t go there with her. You’ll catch something.”
“A blow job with a condom won’t likely result in a sexually transmitted disease. Plus, there are perks to being able to heal yourself.”
Throwing my hand up, I cut him off. “Stop it, Olar. You’re turning my stomach.”
We pile in the car. “No fights today?” he asks jauntily, his good mood flourishing.
“Better not be,” I say, fueled by his relaxed disposition.
“I don’t want to sit around doing nothing. We don’t have to go straight to the house do we?” Glen asks, looking at herself in the rearview mirror. The shiner Neil gave her is getting worse. She pats the bruised area with concealer, but it does nothing to lessen its appearance.
“I guess as long as we’re together, we could go somewhere,” Olar agrees, but he doesn’t sound sure. “We’ll just get Taylor first.”
I shrug. “Okay.” Going home will bum me out after being so cheery the last few hours. I’m enjoying their company.
We sit around a table at the pig and cow restaurant Nathan had brought me to before. Justin tagged along, and he and Taylor are the kind of couple who’s constantly kissing each other with short pecks as they talk, whisper, and giggle. It’s disturbing.
I keep reminding myself that I only have to make it through tomorrow. If I can, I’ll wake up Saturday morning wrapped in warm arms and relieved.
We eat, holding up the table until nine pm, laughing at the waitresses who do a good job at entertaining us with line dancing and fake country accents. We join their fun, stepping and twisting, enjoying the escape.
Olar drops himself and Justin off at their house, and we take the car to mine. I announce our arrival, so Mom knows it’s us when we walk in, but by the sound of her snoring, we’ve missed her. The girls and I are ready to pass out after showering and spreading out our blowup mattresses. Not short of saying goodnight, Glen’s out. I smile at her sleeping with an ice pack resting on her face. Though her cuts and bruises aren’t better, she looks livelier than she did this morning.
Taylor and I are far from sleep, chatting as we wait for it to kick in. She changes the subject from a garden she’s starting, saying, “You know I never meant to hurt you and Nathan.”
I’m over it. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re okay with me, Taylor.” I’m tired but fear closing my eyes, not knowing what type of stuff my head’ll make up for me tonight. I think last night, when I did fall asleep, Roehl crept his way into my thoughts. I recall a distant memory from a dream of things I know I’d never participate in with him.
“I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry.” Pounding on the door cuts into her sentence.
An uneasy feeling pricks my flesh with skin pinching goosebumps. I sit up, unsure about answering it.
“Who is that?” Taylor asks, seeming to sense my hesitation.
They knock again.
Standing, I say, “Not sure.” But whatever it is, now, something in me wants to see. It pulls me to see. “I’m going to check.”
“I’ll come with you.”
THE DOOR’S SILENT AS I pull it open. The shimmering in his golden eyes rolls a fire in me. A distinct desire of seeing something I want but know I can’t have. That’s what it is. Something too good to
be good for me.
Roehl smiles, and his golden teeth settle my sudden eruption as I notice their sharp points and slight shine reflecting the light of the moon. “Hey, Tracey,” he serenades. Without bass, my name drips from his smooth voice faultlessly, entering my ears. A strange curiosity ignites, and I smile.
Taylor shoves me aside, taking up the doorway. “Why are you here?” she spits.
I stand on my tiptoes, barely able to look over her high shoulder.
Roehl gasps exaggeratedly, a mock of shock’s in his stingy eyes. “Taylor! Where have you been hiding? You know. . . I’ve been trying to see you.” He moves a little closer, whispering to her, “I sent you an invite, but you never showed.”
“Why are you here?”
“I came to check on Tracey.” His golden gaze passes her and lands on me.
A cool breeze blows past him and smacks me in my face. I inhale, filling my nose with his astounding scent. A peculiar aroma that hints the scent of cedar and outdoors. It’s more appealing than I thought it’d be. My insides scream for me to go to him, and I struggle to hold my ground.
Roehl’s bad, right. . .?
“Check on her for what? She isn’t yours to hold your concern,” Taylor loathes.
Placing his hand on the doorframe, Roehl leans forward, standing the same height as her. My gaze flicks from his eyes to his hand, and a small part of me wants to touch it just to see how it feels beneath mine. He peeks around her and soaks me in. “Not yet.” His golden eye winks. “Right, Cey?”
I fight a smile, chewing on the inside of my cheeks.
Leaning back, he steps away from Taylor, never taking his inducing bore off me. “Come here,” he invites, motioning me to him with a swift nudge of his head. “Can we talk for a minute?” His honeyed voice couldn’t be more inviting, and his aroma, dancing around me from the cool night’s air. . . It encourages me to close this stricken distance between us.
I lumber forward, attempting to walk around or maybe through Taylor.
She whips around, shoving me away from the door. “What the hell are you doing?” she asks with her hand tightly wrapped around my forearm, wrenching me further back into the house. “Nathan! Remember!”
I blink, feeling my face twist in a tight contort. Grimacing, it sinks in like an anchor in the sea. My thoughts, my wants, my actions. I wanted him. I want him. Like flowers to a bee—nectar to birds—he’s appealing in a way that’s not obsessive nor overwhelming but nourishing.
My eyes widen as I realize the disgracefulness of my desires. I should not want Roehl! Stumbling back, I shake my head, gaze cast on the ground too ashamed to lift them and meet the eyes of my mate’s sister or his brother.
Roehl laughs, sending a sweet melody of titters through my ears. I flick my gaze to him, desiring the indecent creature. Striding backward, he steps off the porch, fixing me with a stare that softens my hate. “Tell Nathan I have his mate, Taylor.” Turning on his heels, he adds, “I’ll be back for her when he returns. Wouldn’t want to take her without his consent.”
I watch him leave and kick myself. How could I do this?! Why’d I want to go to him and deceive Nathan?
“Tracey, what the hell?” Taylor jeers, closing the door.
“I. I. I don’t know.” Panic shakes my hands. “I don’t understand.” Whatever just happened, I don’t. . . I can’t make sense of it. “I. . .” Tears cloud my eyes. “I’m wrong.”
“What happened?”
“I wanted him. I wanted to go to him,” I whisper, ashamed. “I didn’t care or think about Nathan until you brought him up,” I say, embarrassed. “I can’t believe I was ready to deceive him like this. Willing to walk away with ease!”
Taylor hugs me to her. “Shh. It’s okay. Calm down. You’re going to get Nathan started.”
Sparks! What’s wrong?
“Too late,” I mutter to Taylor. He sounds so angry. Nate, I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t. I. Don’t understand. I’m sorry. I stutter, sobbing, knowing I’m probably the worst girlfriend or mate ever. Taylor rubs my back, soothing me with shhs and it’s okays.
Sparks. Babe, what’s wrong? he asks a lot calmer. What happened? Stop crying. Sparks. Please stop crying.
I hold my tongue, and time passes as he waits.
Talk to me, Sparks. You’re killing me here.
Wincing, I say, Nathan.
Yes.
He came here. And I . . . wanted him. I needed to go to him. It’s hard for me to express but easy to admit. I wanted him more than I want you. . .
Nathan quiets for a while, and my feelings are too overwhelming for me to focus on his. Who is with you? His voice is distant, and where I expect him to be angry being all reckoning, he’s calmer than night. And that means I won’t even come close to knowing the multitude of his anger.
Nathan, I am sorry.
It’s fine, Sparks. It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize. Who’s with you?
Taylor.
She’s comforting you?
She is.
Wait a minute.
I calm a little. He’s too understanding and accepting of my confession.
Taylor stops rubbing my back and jerks and jolts a few times but doesn’t move. “Come on, Tracey,” she says. “Let’s lay down.”
Lying with me on my mattress, she’s uneasy, but she mentions nothing. I assume I missed the argument between the two of them, and Nathan may have said something that brought her down. His anger against her drives her to a dark place, and I always search for words that’ll make her feel better. But what will I say, It’s okay, it’s not your fault, but it is? Or, it’ll all be over soon, and Nathan will understand, but that’ll make me a liar too. I don’t know if it’ll be better, I don’t know what all will come from me transpiring a liking for Roehl or how he’s able to sway me away from Nathan. It’s scary even, and knowing I could turn on Nathan without my will or conscious diverting me is terrifying. I don’t want Roehl. I swear I don’t.
Sparks?
Yeah.
I’ll be back tomorrow night, stay with Olar ‘til I make it home. You’re going to my house after school.
Are you mad?
Yes, he answers honestly. But not with you. Get some sleep.
I lay, fighting back the urge to run upstairs and wrap myself in my bed. I’m sorry, Nate.
Don’t be. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Sleep doesn’t come easy, and I beat myself up the remainder of the night. It’s not just about my letting Nathan down. It’s about the incapability I have of control over my feelings. I know I don’t want Roehl; I know deep down I’m supposed to hate him, I remember clear as day what he’d done to me and the stories Nathan told me. And yet, he enters my mind, and I invite him to stay. I’m completely in love with Nathan; he has everything I thought I wanted. But then, here his brother comes along and has the same desiring effect on me. He’s as repulsive as the sun that rests on the side of his face. And yet, here we are.
Roehl had to have done something drastic to me.
FRIDAY’S BUZZ IS ON. Everyone’s happy and bouncing around the halls of our school with the weekend glow.
Olar hasn’t mentioned it, but it’s obvious he knows about last night. His cool shield’s turned to one of stone, and it makes me uncomfortable.
Today isn’t at all as easy as our last two days. The lack of Scott has Glen passing out repeatedly. Her head smacks the desk, resulting in her having another huge knot on her forehead. I drag her with me to the bathroom to clean her up.
“Oh no!” she whines, looking in the mirror through droopy eyes. “Scott’s going to be so pissed when he sees my face.”
I grab her makeup bag from her purse and do what I can to hide her bumps and bruises. “At least, it won’t be as bad, you know. . .” I hint at him being able to fix it.
“Yeah. . .” She closes her eyes, drifting as she stands.
Patting her cheek, I wake her. “Come on. We have to get you moving.”
&
nbsp; We meet Olar in the hall and the next bell’s ringing.
I’m trying to be strong, but with my loss of energy, no sleep, and lack of Nathan, I’m little help in keeping Glen standing. My legs give out, and I fall flat on my face in the hallway—in front of everyone. The laughs and snickers drill through my ears like a jackhammer, loud and vibrating.
“We should’ve stayed home today,” Olar says, helping me up.
Glen leans against a nearby locker, slowly sliding to the floor. She’s as pale as a sheet of paper, trying to make her eyes focus. Each time she blinks, they gloss over and float around in her head.
This is ridiculous. “I think you’re right.” I try to shake it off. “Come on, Glen. Four more hours.”
“No, Tracey.” She hits the floor.
Olar throws his head back, grumbling an aggravated breath.
“Olar, take a break, I’ll get her. Walk it off.” My head swims when I turn from him to Glen. I steady myself against the lockers, waiting for the hall to stop spinning. Olar takes my advice and heads down the hallway, pacing the floor.
We have to be stronger than this. There’s no way I will let this bond not allow me to make it through the day. It literally has us out of character yearning for these two. “You want to sit here?” I ask, settling on the floor beside her.
Glen looks at me with the sickest eyes, and it makes me feel bad for her. She’s definitely being hit harder than I am. “Tracey, what’s happening? Why does this feel like this?”
“You just miss Scott is all. But he’ll be back tonight. It’ll be better then.” I look back to Olar still pacing, not going too far but not coming too close.
“I hope so. This sucks.” Her body falls over, and I grab her arm to pull her back up.
Our class has started, and we’re supposed to be in there. As I’m helping Glen up, Olar comes over. “Forget it,” I say, giving in. Nathan’s so going to pay for this when I see him later. “Let’s just go home.”
They nod and waste no time leaving for the car. Glen lies across the backseat, quickly falling asleep. “Why’d you decide to leave?” Olar asks.
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