“And I’ve spent some great quality time with you two!” Her fake valley girl accent makes me cringe.
Then again, so does her delusion. I mean, she really believes the crap she’s trying to sell.
Dad slaps a palm to his forehead, and I stay silent. I learned long ago that there is nothing you can say to this woman.
“You have a daughter, are you aware of that? A beautiful, smart, wonderful child that you left years ago and have barely made time to see. How the hell is that possible? What kind of ugly human being are you that you can’t see how precious she is? What is so wrong with you that you don’t want an active part in her life?”
Dad’s voice is scary calm, and it’s even worse than if he was screaming.
“This is very unfair of you, Todd. I took the time to come see you both, and now you’re throwing it in my face.”
“You haven’t … this is the first time in years you’ve—” Dad growls in frustration, but cuts himself off from making any more valid points. “Just go, Jessica.”
She frowns, then looks to me. “It was so good to see you, baby. You’ve gotten so pretty.”
I roll my eyes even though my heart is breaking. I shouldn’t be affected by her cruelty, her self-centered attitude, but I can’t help it. I’m predisposed to want her love.
Just as quickly as she arrived, she’s gone. It feels like a fever dream that she was even here in the first place, but the silence she leaves behind is deafening.
“I’m so sorry, honey.” Dad comes over and wraps me in his arms.
Despite trying to tell myself it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t matter; I feel the tears leak onto his sweatshirt. This is the second blow I’ve been dealt in less than a week, so that’s why it probably feels more intense. By this point, I should be used to my mother’s antics. But couple her bullshit visit with what Sawyer did to me on New Year’s Eve, and it feels like the world is out to get me.
As my father holds me, I weep for more than just the shitty biological mother I was given. The crying is more for the humiliation I feel from being taken advantage of by Sawyer and Hailey.
How the hell could I have fallen into a trap like that? How could I have not seen it?
What makes it worse are all of the sweet words he whispered to me right before she burst in. I can’t get them out of my head, I can’t forget the feeling of his hands on me or the way his eyes saw through to my soul. How can someone who gave me the sweetest of moments be so cruel as to sabotage me and rip it all to shreds?
Sawyer has left me dozens of messages since that night. He’s called, texted, and even stopped by once and I made Dad tell him I wasn’t home. Dad knows something is up, but is giving me the respect and space to work through it. Not that I’ll ever be able to forget what happened. I don’t want to talk to Sawyer; I don’t even want to see him.
I don’t know where to go from here. The dejection sits so heavily on my bones that I feel like I’m being crushed.
And while I cling to the one person who knows me best, who loves me best, I wish I could get away from this town.
College can’t come soon enough.
27
Blair
Do you know what happens when you ignore the boy whose hands were in your underwear just four nights ago?
When you don’t return his calls or texts, when he tries to track you down at your house or the office that your respective fathers share and you avoid him?
Yeah, that boy chases you down in the halls at school, catching the attention of every fellow student along the way.
It’s just after fourth period that I spot Sawyer across a hallway and dart back down it in escape. I don’t want to see him, especially after what happened with the whole Hailey debacle. I bob and weave, heading for an opening in the crowd, and find myself in the middle of the bustling common area that doubles as the cafeteria.
By this point, the whole school, much less the town has heard what happened on New Year’s. Nate and Laura were the ones who got me out of there, and tried to talk me off the ledge the entire ride home. Of course, that was all done through drunk text messages in the back seat of a car since Laura’s mom came to pick us up. Gosh, it’s lame being in high school.
The two of them think it was all a misunderstanding, and that Hailey acted of her own accord. They claim that Sawyer seems changed and pointed out that he wouldn’t have tried to reach me so many times if he was in on the stunt.
My head is still so clouded with distrust and a past I can’t seem to forget, which is why I’m literally running away from the problem.
“Blair!” Sawyer’s voice echoes through the Commons even though there are at least four hundred other students moving through here on their mad dash to classrooms.
I walk faster, my boots clacking on the tile floors.
“BLAIR!” He’s nearly yelling now, and there are so many people in here who are now looking his way.
My mad dash is through an obstacle course, and although I can see an escape, I can’t get there.
Then I hear it.
“Blair Oden!” Sawyer’s voice is more than a yell now, it’s booming across the cafeteria.
I freeze on the spot, because there is no use anymore. I turn, mortified, as hundreds of eyes do the same. The gorgeous specimen who was half-naked on top of me not more than a week ago is standing on one of the cafeteria tables. A gray Chester High School soccer long-sleeve stretches across his broad chest, and I have to actively keep my eyes from dropping to the crotch of his black jeans because I now know what’s underneath.
Whispers go over the crowd, but the cafeteria is virtually silent. I want to huddle on the floor and crawl my way out, but I’m rooted to the spot at the same time.
“You won’t return my texts or my calls. You’re dodging me in every sense of the word. So I guess I have to do this here. It’s better this way, after all. I want everyone to know.”
His eyes are locked on me and only me, and for a split second, the whole room falls away. It’s just us, his green gaze fixated on my face, and my heart beating only for him. Everything that’s come before this is forgotten, and I find myself leaning in, waiting on the tips of my toes to see what he is going to say.
“I love you. I’m in love with you, crazy about you. I know I’ve fucked up so many times before,” some students start cheering at the use of the curse word, “but I’m telling you now, in front of anyone who wants to tell anyone else what they saw here today, I love you. I will never hurt you again, if you’ll just love me back.”
I think my jaw, my heart, and my stomach are somewhere on the floor. I’m not entirely sure, since my whole body seems to be numb yet vibrating at the same time.
“Did he just say …”
“Wait, I thought they hated each other.”
“Her? He loves her?”
The world slowly comes back to me, but I can’t stop staring at Sawyer. The students around us are cheering, and I hear the skeptical whispers, but my heart only sees him. He looks so hopeful, so genuine, and I just want to melt into his arms.
“Get off there!” a teacher’s voice calls, and Sawyer hops down.
The crowd parts as he makes his way over, and no alarm bells are going off in my head. Where I used to feel doubt, distrust, fear, there are none of those things. He just publicly declared his feelings for me, in the loudest and most obnoxious way possible. The old me, of twelve seconds ago, would think this is part of some elaborate prank.
But I don’t think that’s what is happening. I think Sawyer really does love me.
He’s close now, his expression earnest and our bodies attracting to each other like magnets.
“Why would you do that?” I choke out, my cheeks on fire.
He stalks up to me, blowing right past my personal space. “Because it’s true. Because I’ll never do anything to hurt you again. You have to believe me, Blair. I had nothing to do with that. And I do love you. I’ve always loved you.”
Years of hurt, sha
me, and unrequited feelings are being sucked from my soul. My heart feels lighter, like a boulder has been lifted off it. It’s like my body is being cleansed of all the toxic events and thoughts I’ve ever been through or had, and I feel clean.
I’ve learned to stand on my own two feet over the past year, to be more independent than I’ve ever been. Traveling alone to another country, getting my driver’s license, removing my mother from my life; I’ve stepped into the person I needed to be.
But there was one thing I was missing. Having Sawyer’s love, knowing that he feels the same way about me, it somehow makes me whole. This is the last puzzle piece, and it’s just snapped into place. Love suffuses my veins, all of my muscles, and sews up the torn portions of my heart.
It doesn’t mean I’m not still terrified, which is why my defense mechanism comes out.
“Maybe I don’t know what I want. Maybe each time you kiss me, I think about every word you wrote on that list. Maybe I won’t be able to get over what happened on New Year’s, even if you’re telling the truth. I can’t just get that out of my head, Sawyer. The trust we have is so fragile, will it ever hold?” I hiss this, because we’re in a crowded cafeteria full of people hustling to their next class period.
Even so, we’re obviously drawing looks. By this point, I’m sure everyone has heard about what Hailey witnessed on New Year’s Eve, even if there isn’t photographic proof. The rumor is making the rounds, and everyone is flabbergasted by Blair Oden and Sawyer Roarke’s hookup. We’re supposed to be enemies, after all.
And there is the whole him jumping up on a table thing.
He looks stricken, because neither of us can undo what we’ve done to each other.
Sawyer doesn’t say a word.
Instead, in the middle of the Commons, with everyone watching, he picks me up until my toes brush the floor.
And kisses the living daylights out of me.
My arms have no choice but to wrap around his neck, and when his tongue invades my mouth, I melt into the kiss, not caring that we’re making out for the entire school, and its teachers, to see. This feels right, this kiss puts my world back on its axis, and all of the wrongs and hurt are wiped clean.
The page is turned, the chapter is fresh, and I know in my heart that every word he just said is true. I could waste more time fighting it, put up arguments and raise old feuds, but it’s pointless. I want to be with him. Every second I’m not, I’m miserable.
“Ahem.” A throat clears.
Sawyer sets me down, never taking those emerald eyes off me. I can feel the scorching burn in my cheeks as I turn to face Sawyer’s soccer coach, who also happens to be my sophomore year gym teacher.
“That’s quite enough, Roarke. Get to class,” he says sternly.
“Yes, sir.” Sawyer doesn’t take his forehead, or his eyes, off me.
We’re the last two people standing in the Commons when the bell rings.
“I’m going to be late for class.” I grin like an idiot, not moving an inch.
Our arms are still around each other, our noses centimeters apart.
“Who cares?” He breathes onto my lips. “So, are you going to?”
“Am I going to what?” I feel dizzy.
“Love me back?” Sawyer’s voice is husky, ringing with desperate hope.
I press up on my toes, getting as close to him as I possibly can. “No.”
I feel it when he stutters, when it’s as if his heart stops beating.
“What?” His question is weak, quiet.
“I can’t love you back. Not when I’m the one who loved you first. I’ve loved you for a very long time, so really, it’s you who is loving me back.”
Sawyer kisses me then, sweeping me up in his passion. Just as quickly, he breaks off.
“Don’t be so sure about that, B. I’m pretty sure I loved you first.”
My eyes roll as I giggle uncontrollably. “So we’re going to fight about this, too?”
“No, no more fighting. In fact, no more talking.” He dips his head, and indeed, we’re not talking anymore.
We get yelled at by two more teachers before we eventually break apart and make very late arrivals to both of our classes.
28
Blair
It’s kind of strange how easily Sawyer and I fall into step with each other romantically.
One day, we’re best friends. Then we’re enemies, sworn to hate each other. After that we’re stuck in this loathing but lusting stage, and couldn’t figure out which way is up.
The last two weeks have consisted of school, student government, and Sawyer. Every free minute I have is dedicated to spending time with him. Now that his soccer schedule is done, he doesn’t do much more than go to school, where he’s constantly trying to distract me or make me late to class, and then spend all of his other time with me.
Most of that time is spent, well, making up for the time we lost. If you get what I mean.
The two of us have gotten very good, very good, at kissing. Sawyer definitely knows his way around my bra at this point, and I finally rounded third base, on both my end and his. The way he makes me feel … gah, I understand now why people get addicted to someone. Who knew that fingers could do that?
But sex is something I haven’t been able to broach yet. I know Sawyer isn’t a virgin, and he knows I am. He says he’s completely happy to go slow, to take it at my pace, but I still feel some of that unconscious pressure. More from myself than from him. I want to go there, especially with Sawyer, someone I love, but mentally I’m just not ready.
I have a feeling my head will fall in line sooner rather than later, though.
It’s another Spirit Night dance practice, and the school gym is flooded with seniors chattering away. We’ve been at this for an hour already, and Laura is demanding another couple run throughs before she lets us off the hook for the night. She has taught us the entire almost ten-minute routine, but we have a few months to perfect it. Then there will be costume run throughs for the portions that are more skits than dancing, and it should all come together by the big night in May.
“I just don’t love the one song in the middle. It seems tired, when that is the part people will be turning to their friends and talking through. We need to pack a punch just when they’re starting to get bored.” She taps a finger to her chin.
Matt, Sawyer, and Nate stand next to her and me, the boys a little sweaty from just having to perform one of the cheerleading-like stunts Laura put into the routine. It doesn’t stop Matt from eyeing my bestie up and down, though. Where Sawyer and I are taking things slow, those two definitely are not. I’ve been regaled with sex tales left and right. So much TMI that my ears actually might start bleeding.
“It’s not that bad,” Sawyer tells her, trying to help.
I shake my head, rolling my eyes. That is the worst thing he could have said. Laura is nothing if not a perfectionist when it comes to dance, and her name is all over this routine.
“You’re the one who hijacked our Spirit Night theme, so sorry if it’s been a little difficult to stray from my original plan.” Laura sends him a withering glare.
Sawyer cringes. “Yeah, about that, I never did apologize. I’m sorry. I know how hard you girls work on this.”
“And guy,” Nate chimes in.
I’m still smarting a little bit from the way he came in and ruined that class cabinet meeting at the beginning of the year. Admittedly, the Senior Survivors theme has been pretty cool. We’re using songs from Destiny’s Child, Akon, The Police, and the actual theme song to the reality show Survivor. The mural that the art students in our grade have thought up is this insane jungle painting that looks so realistic, I’ll be spooked whenever I walk down the hallway our class was designated to paint.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry.” Sawyer rubs the back of his neck. “How can I make it up to you?”
“You can tango with her,” Laura deadpans.
I nearly choke on the sip of water I just took from my bo
ttle. “Excuse me?”
My best friend shrugs. “Well, I have this idea that since the two of you used to be sworn enemies, we could do a little play on that. You tango, taking the lead position back and forth from each other, until one of you survives and the other doesn’t.”
“Pretty cutthroat, eh Laur?” Sawyer chuckles.
“Yeah, so, it’ll be great for the show. Everyone knows your past. Maybe we could have you make up at the end, kind of like you both survived your feud. Either way, I think the crowd will go wild for it.”
“One problem. Well, actually, several, but the main one is that neither of us know how to tango.” One of my eyebrows shoots up.
Sawyer pursues me, his long legs eating the small gap between us and pulling me into his arms. He does some kind of smooth dip with me, that probably makes me look awkward and him look like a dreamboat. I giggle as he glides us around, kind of clumsily but with such good intention that he almost pulls it off.
“We don’t need to know how to tango. I can read your body like my favorite book,” he whispers in my ear, so low that the hundreds of other people in the gym don’t hear.
My whole body flushes, and I’m sure I pull back with a face the color of a ripe apple. “You’re too much trouble.”
“And you love it.” He pulls me back in, and the room twirls.
We’re stepping to a silent melody, entranced in each other’s presence. The gym seems to disappear as Sawyer pulls me across the hardwood floor in our sneakers, the two of us hiccupping with laughter but also falling madly, deeply in love.
This kind of flirting is one I’ve never experienced before; the kind you get trapped in and can’t seem to stop doing because you’re so infatuated with the other person. When he’s around, I just seem to be in a perpetual state of fluttering my lashes and curling into his muscular side. To his credit, Sawyer never seems to be able to keep his hands off me or stop smiling in my direction.
Foes & Cons Page 14