by Kyla Stone
Another worker starts bagging the food. “Sorry to hear about your father. Your poor family.” Her voice has that same insincere edge to it that I remember from high school.
The hairs on my neck prickle. I’d hoped no one here would know, but who was I kidding? Isabel’s mom is a nurse at St. Joseph Medical Center. She was probably the first to hear. “Yeah. It sucks.”
“And your sister, how is she?” Isabel smirks. “Still partying like it’s 1999?”
The smugness in her voice tells me she knows exactly how far Lux has slipped down the rabbit hole, and she’s happy about it. “Lux is fine.
Thanks for your concern.”
She shrugs. “Just making conversation.”
I remember now how much I dislike Isabel. “Why are you still stuck in this town?”
Isabel glances down at the jar of peanut butter in her hands. Her mouth is puckered, her small dark eyes glinting. “Just taking a break from school. Saving up money. Most people don’t get fancy scholarships. They actually have to work to pay for things.”
I narrow my gaze but say nothing. She’s bored and baiting me, just like she did when we were kids, when I was forced to play with her even though I knew she hated me. She’d always ask which doll or stuffed animal or coloring book I wanted, then choose it herself, a sly, triumphant smile playing across her face.
Isabel makes a clicking sound with her tongue as she passes a tub of margarine over the scanner. “While I’m stuck here, I’m taking a couple of classes on natural remedies. Margarine is one of the worst foods for your body, you know. It’s made of chemicals and partially hydrogenated soybean oil, which just goes straight to the arteries. You should so try the raw food diet. When you cook foods above 116 degrees, they lose all their essential nutrients and enzymes, their vital life force. You should try sprouted millet and barley bread. I bet if your dad went on this raw food diet I’ve been on, he would totally get better. It’s cured all kinds of cancers and stuff. Since I’ve been on it, my skin like, completely cleared up.”
I jerk Dad’s credit card out of my purse. “I don’t think zits and congestive heart failure are on quite the same level, Isabel.”
“Hello? I know that. But seriously. You can special order these totally great pressed juices? Kale, ginger, and beet juice. They’re like, uber healthy.” She’s got this virtuous look on her face, like she’s the only one with some magical elixir with the power to purify the sins of the world.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Isabel tosses a disdainful glance at the eggs, boxes of Kraft mac and cheese, and dark chocolate bars. “These foods are all toxic, you know. We put so many poisons into our body, it’s no wonder we’re dying left and right.”
Death might be a blessing at this particular moment. “Yes, well. I hope your diet works out for you.”
Isabel rings me up. “I have all these books I could recommend. They’re a real eye-opener.”
“I’m sure they are. How’s your mother?” I always liked Maria Gutierrez, in spite of her daughter. She was kind and warm and soft-spoken, everything I’d always thought a real mother would be like. How she managed to produce a pretentious, self-absorbed daughter like Isabel is one of life’s many mysteries.
Isabel hands me the receipt. “She’s still single and alone. Probably always will be. She never tries, you know? She’s just a dowdy, miserable old woman.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Isabel stares at me impassively. “Thanks for visiting Browne Meat and Grocery. Come again. Have a most excellent day.”
I sling the bags into my arms and brace for the blast of cold as I hurry out to the parking lot. I duck my head against the hard little bits of snow flung down from the night sky. The asphalt is a slushy, icy mess, and I nearly slip twice. I kick my boots against the tires before climbing into the van.
My breath puffs out white and steaming, my fingers already stiff from the cold. When I turn the key, the van makes a growling, grinding sound, then putters into silence. I try again. Nada. Nothing. Zilch. I slam my fists against the steering wheel. “Come on!”
Something knocks against the passenger side window. It’s him.
Eli Kusuma grins at me beneath the beanie pressed down over his ears, straggles of black hair poking out in all directions. Beneath the parking lot lights, his eyes are dark gold. “You need some help?”
I clear my throat, trying to ignore him. I start the engine again. It groans to life, only it sounds like a mangled robot screeching in its death throes. I roll down the window. “I don’t need a man’s help, but thanks so much for asking.”
“Not even a man who’s a mechanic?”
I glare at him. “You’re kidding me.”
“This face wouldn’t lie to you. I’ve worked full-time at Ross’s Engine Repair for the last two years.” He tugs off a glove and wriggles his fingers at me. His fingernails are rimmed with black. “See? Engine grease.”
“You’re telling me you know what’s wrong with this thing?”
“Yep. You smell that slightly sweet, burning odor? That puddle of transmission fluid that’s dripping underneath your van right now? I’d say it could just be worn gaskets or a damaged bell housing, but not coupled with that whining, grating sound. It’s your transmission.”
I know enough about cars to know transmission issues are expensive. “That’s just fantastic.”
“I can fix it.”
“You sure about that?”
He levels me with his most charming smile. “I can do anything with these hands, darling. Catch a game winning ball. Fix up a car good as new. Change a badass diaper. The ladies are especially impressed with my skills. I can even—”
I clear my throat, trying not to blush. I know exactly what he was about to say. “Got it, thanks. Look, the damn thing’s working for now, so I’m just going to go home.”
The flirtatious grin slips from his face. He frowns, his thick eyebrows crinkling. “You shouldn’t be driving like this. Follow me to the shop. It’s closed, but I’ve got a set of keys. You can drop the van off and I’ll get you set up with a loaner. I can’t look at it tonight ’cause I’ve got Hadley in the car with me. But I’ll check it out first thing tomorrow.”
I sigh. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, here’s another problem pressing down on me like a hundred bricks, strangling the air right out of my chest. “I really just want to go home.”
He frowns. “I’m serious. It could die any second. And if you’re in the middle of an intersection, that’s gonna be bad news for you.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not if you want to avoid more expensive repairs, or an accident that leaves you a braindead vegetable.” He smacks the van door. “Follow me. I’m in the junky pea-green SUV with the ‘Baby on Board’ sticker on the back window, compliments of my mother. Afterward, we can grab that coffee. Or ice cream. Or whatever. Think you can handle that, Freckles?”
Irritation flares through me. He’s getting under my skin. “Could you please not call me that? Coffee’s not really a good idea right now. I’m pretty busy.”
He just laughs and strides back to his SUV, brushing off the snowflakes collecting on his shoulders.
Even in the dark, I can see the thick, iron-bellied clouds hanging low over the trees. Another snowstorm is coming.
I follow Eli to the mechanic’s shop, my heart filling with a mixture of dread and anticipation.
10
Lux
I leave Jayda’s room and make my way down the first few steps. From this vantage point, I can see Felix across the living room stuffed full of dancing, writhing bodies.
He’s slumped on the white leather couch, his head in his hands. Jayda Washington-Clarke sits next to him, her manicured fingers caressing his back. Of course. I should’ve known. She just broke up with Dominic. So she and Felix can be together. That disgusting, two-timing jerk.
My thoughts dart around the edges of my skull, my brain on f
ire. I’m not a cheap toy he can just trash when he gets bored. I will not be cast aside and ignored. I’m not that girl. No way.
I go downstairs and grab a cup right out of the hand of one of the freshman bimbos. I chug it down, ignoring her half-hearted protest. It’s time to dance. But not with Simone, who’s swaying in the corner with her hands outstretched, the object of a dozen guys’ slack-jawed awe.
I scan the crowd. I know exactly who will hurt him the most.
I stride up to Dominic Harris. He’s chatting with a couple of footballers, but he turns toward me when he sees his friends eyeing me. “What’s up?”
An image of Felix flashes through my mind. I can almost feel his warm hands, his fingers laced through mine. For one fleeting second, I hesitate.
I glance across the room and see Felix. He’s turned toward Jayda. She actually wipes a frickin’ tear from his eyes.
Flames of rage erupt inside my skull. My hands ball into fists. Felix Avery can kiss my sweet ass.
I turn to Dominic and cock my hip. “Wanna dance?”
“Do you even need to ask?” He runs a hand across his close-cropped fade, a slow smile spreading across his face. He’s got gorgeous earth-brown skin, a chiseled jaw, and those piercing dark eyes romance novels always blabber about. And his body is to die for, even though it’s currently hidden beneath his American Eagle hoodie. Simone’s right, though. He does have a butt-cleft chin.
A few of his friends wolf-whistle as I grab his arm and drag him out to the center of the dance floor. We dance hard and furious, careening into and against each other, until I’m glistening and breathless. I press my body against his, and he wraps his strong arms around my waist.
The stuffy air makes me dizzy. My head pounds, my heart thumping faster than the music, jerking frantically against my ribcage and I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.
I catch a glimpse of Felix and Jayda. Jayda’s glaring at me, her face fixed in a nasty scowl. Her hand is on Felix’s knee.
The world is shrinking into something small and ugly.
I dance harder, faster, until the room is whirling, pulsing, radiating sparkling light. Bright liquid colors spin in fantastic eddies and swirls around me.
Dominic leads me back into the kitchen, sweaty and stumbling, where a bunch of guys are throwing potato chips at each other, trying to catch one in their mouths.
“Hey, Lux,” Jamal Randolph says. “You’re looking fine tonight. Fat in the best possible way.” He gestures at my cleavage.
I slant my eyes at him, flash that smile all the guys love.
“Is that your natural hair?” Owen Wittenburg asks, adjusting his Lions baseball cap.
“No. I soak it every night in the blood of my enemies.” “That’s sick, brah!” Owen grins.
Jamal guffaws. “No, but it is, isn’t it? Your sister’s a ginger, too.”
I grab a fresh beer and guzzle it down. “I’m all natural, baby. Unfortunately for you, you’ll never know for sure.”
“Oh, burn!” Dominic laughs.
Someone shrieks out in the hot tub. Dark energy sparks at the tips of my fingers. An insistent buzzing, like bees beneath my skin. Like an itch I’m desperate to scratch. I need to do something. Anything. Everything.
I turn to Dominic. “I dare you to go outside and run a lap around the house. In the snow. In your tighty-whities.” The guys howl.
Dominic’s slow, smug smile slides across his face. He takes a step toward me. I can smell his Axe body spray, and underneath it, the odor of sweat. “I’ll take that dare. But you gotta do it, too.”
Adrenaline flushes through me. The colors in the room are amplified, saturated, spinning and pulsing around me. There’s a small voice in my head—Eden’s voice—warning me not to do it. But I have to. I’ve got to bury my thoughts in an avalanche of cold, shocking adrenaline.
I stare at Dominic, not breaking eye contact. I slip off my jean jacket, then my tank top. The cool air from the opened sliding glass door hits my stomach, my chest.
“Well played, dude!” Owen yells. “Well played!”
Dominic strips off his hoodie, then his shirt, revealing chiseled abs and a broad, defined chest. My breath catches in my throat. Before I can chicken out, I slide out of my mini skirt, dropping it on the floor.
He unbuckles his belt and nearly trips taking off his jeans. He’s wearing red plaid boxers, left over from Christmas. My bra and panties are black lace, but they cover just as much as the bikinied girls in the hot tub.
Dimly, I hear guys hooting and whistling. Something about underwear seems to drive people out of their minds.
“Hot damn,” Owen says.
“Lose twenty pounds, girl, and you’d be a dime,” Jamal says.
“Nah,” Owen argues. “More to grab, bro.”
For one furious second, I get why Simone despises guys. Then my smile stretches across my face, taut as a rubber band. “Screw you, Jamal.”
“Lux—” someone says unhappily. Eden, somewhere behind me. I ignore her.
I raise my eyebrows at Dominic. “We doing this or not? Let’s blow this joint.”
“Go!” Dominic shouts. He scoops me up, carrying me like a damsel in distress, and dashes out through the sliding glass door. He slip-slides on the deck, nearly dropping me. A bunch of people crowd out after us.
He wants me sling my arms around his neck. But I’m no damsel. I elbow his chest and scramble out of his arms, shrieking. I gallop ahead of him.
The frigid air bites at my exposed, tender flesh, needling my belly, chest, and thighs. My feet sink deep in the snow, a shock of icy pain spiking up my heels. I barely feel it.
Things are careening around inside me, things I can’t think, can’t feel. He doesn’t want you, a voice whispers in the back of my head. No one wants you. He left you, just like everyone else. Humiliation quivers through me, helpless fury billowing at the corners of my vision. Make him pay.
I run through the dark, rounding the corners of the house. Dominic’s laughing, trying to grab me. My skin is numb, slick. I slide away from his fingers.
I make it back inside before he does, breathing hard and dripping melting snow all over the kitchen floor. Jamal and Owen high five me. “That was lit!”
Jayda stands at the front of the crowd, her full lips pressed into a pout. “Overkill much?”
“Shock and awe, baby. Shock and awe,” I say, shaking out my hair. My bangs are plastered to my forehead. Icy water drips down my neck.
“That’s just how I roll.”
She thrusts a towel at me. “Clean yourself up. You look like a ho.” “Don’t be jealous,” I snap.
“Me? Jealous of you?” Jayda’s gaze travels up and down my body.
“Bless your delusional heart.”
When Dominic stumbles in, she turns without a word and stalks away.
“You wanna chill sometime?” Dominic asks, wiping his glistening pecs with his T-shirt. He gives me his hoodie to put on. Since I’m so short, it falls to the middle of my thighs.
“Come on, bro! Why’d you have to do that?” Owen groans. “I was enjoying the view.”
“Sure. Sometime.” I scan the kitchen crowd, urgently searching for Felix. I need him to feel as horrible as I do. I need him to feel worse. I don’t see him. He must’ve limped home already, tail between his legs.
I’m picking up my clothes and shoes when Simone grabs my arm. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“What’s it look like? I’m having fun. Ever heard of it?”
She points to the kitchen table, where Eden slumps, shoulders hunched and trembling, head in her hands. “Any particular reason you picked Eden’s long-time crush as your boy toy of the evening?”
My heart lurches in my chest. That thought hadn’t even entered my fevered brain. The adrenaline leaks out of me, in its place a bone-deep chill.
I wanted to hurt Felix. I didn’t think about Eden and her crush. I should have, but I didn’t. She’s my best friend and I d
idn’t think about her at all.
I’ve done it again. Hurt the ones I love the most.
I move toward her. “Skittles, I’m—”
Simone jerks me back. “Don’t. She doesn’t want to see you. Especially not in that.” She gestures at Dominic’s hoodie.
Eden looks up then, her eyes red and raw. She sees us. Hurt flashes in her gaze. Hurt I caused.
“I didn’t mean it,” I stammer, frantic, full of anguish. This is my M.O.
I do things. Stupid things. Selfish things. Then I can’t undo them. I can’t ever make it right. “Eden, you gotta believe me!”
Dominic and Owen stride up to us, half-baked grins plastered across their faces.
“Girl, you must be made of coffee, ’cause you grind so fine.” Dominic slings his arm across my shoulder.
I wriggle out of his embrace, heat flushing my face. “Get off me.”
“Is your name homework?” Owen says, leering at Simone. “’Cause I’m not doin’ you, and I should be.”
Simone whirls on him. “You kiss your mother with that mouth? Get out of here. And by here, I mean the whole state of Michigan.”
“You on your period or something?” Dominic asks with a hard laugh.
“Yep. What’s your lame excuse?”
Owen pulls down the bill of his hat. “Gross.”
Simone glowers at him. “You asked. Now leave.”
“You’re utterly mental, sometimes, you know that?” Owen says.
For a second, Dominic looks like he might be pissed, too. Then his face loosens into a grin, and he claps Owen on the back. “Come on. There’s far too much estrogen in here.” He winks at me. “Check you later, girl.”
They wander back out to the deck, laughing.
Simone rolls her eyes and turns her fury back on me. “Just what is your issue?”
“What’s yours, Jellybean?” I snap, my voice rising.
“You’re seriously being a total asshat right now.”
“So are you! It was an accident, okay? I didn’t mean it.”
Whoop-de-freaking-do.” She folds her arms over her chest, her eyes dark and cold, accusatory. “You are incredible. And not in a good way.”