by S. J. Sylvis
As soon as she pulled away, I was shocked. I couldn’t speak. Or move. Hayley dragged me by my forearm, over the dip in the grass and all the way to the tree near her window. I was like a lost puppy being tugged by his collar. Once we were face to face, I watched as her tongue darted out to lick her swollen lips. I stared at her. She stared at me. I blinked once. She blinked back. What the fuck just happened? One minute, I wanted to end her, and the next, I wanted to save her. “Are you back? Level-headed? Ready to hear me out?”
Well played, Hayley. Well fucking played. Hayley definitely knew how to distract me, and it worked.
It worked too well.
“I’m ready.” My voice was gravelly sounding. It was almost painful to talk after what just happened. Her kiss. Holy shit.
Hayley looked up into the starry sky. “Yes. Pete was the one who kicked me. And no, there isn’t anything I can do about it. Trust me. I want to take the dullest knife in the silverware drawer and hurt him with it until he bleeds, but I can’t, because if I get kicked out of this house, I’ll go into a group home.”
“So?” I ran my hand through my hair, wanting to tug at the ends to keep myself from grabbing onto her body and pressing my lips to hers again. “So?” she hissed, her legs pacing back and forth in front of me. Twigs and leaves crunched underneath her weight. “I turn eighteen soon! Do you know what they do when you turn eighteen while in a group home?” She didn’t give me time to answer. “They kick you out! You’re officially out of the system. A big congratu-fucking-lations. You get booted on your ass and become homeless. But”—she turned around and stared at the side of the house—“Jill and Pete and I have it all worked out. I can stay here until college as long as I give them my stipend money from the state and as long as I don’t give them any trouble.”
“And what if Pete doesn’t?”
Looking over her shoulder at me, she asked, “What if Pete doesn’t what?”
“Stay out of fucking trouble? He left bruises on your body!” I almost yelled, heating up again inside.
Hayley turned around and walked over to me, peering up into my face. “That’s something I can't really wager on working in my favor, Christian. You don’t get it. You aren’t in the system. Shit doesn't always work out the way it should. It’s about survival. And this is me surviving!” An audible groan left her mouth. “This is my last fucking pit stop. If I mess this up, I can kiss the scholarship I want goodbye. Being homeless and still attending English Prep and getting stellar grades would be impossible. And you’re not going to fuck this up for me because you have some crazy control issue.”
I shook my head. “That’s not why I’m butting in. I’m not trying to control you.” I was honestly surprised at how calm my voice was. My temper was clanking off every bone in my body as it tried to emerge.
“Then why are you butting in? We’re not friends. We’re not even acquaintances. Do I need to remind you that you’ve told me on several occasions that you hate me and want me gone?”
I wanted to punch my fist into the tree, but instead, I gritted through my teeth. “I don’t fucking know, Hayley!” I took several deep breaths, running my hand through my hair again. “God, fuck!”
Hayley came closer; this time she was pinning me against the tree instead of the other way around. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor, Christian. Especially one who acts as the villain, too.” She slowly backed away after invading my personal space. “Now leave me be. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I’ve learned to depend on me, and me alone.”
My back stayed against the tree as Hayley walked back over to the side of her house and climbed up the lattice. She didn’t even look back as she reached her window. Her light never came on, and there wasn’t a single peep that came from her house. My lips still tingled long after she disappeared from my sight, but Hayley was right. She wanted me to leave her be, and I needed to listen.
Chapter Eighteen
Hayley
The next few days were uneventful, especially given the weekend. Something I said to Christian must have stuck. Maybe it was the way I stressed that he needed to leave me alone, or maybe it was the kiss.
The unspeakable kiss. The moment that I kept pretending never happened. And apparently, him too, considering he hadn’t glanced my way once since Friday night. I couldn’t believe I kissed him. The second I climbed in my window and shut it behind me, I rested my back along the wall and slid to the floor, my chest heaving up and down as I replayed every waking moment since he had climbed into my room. I replayed the part where I undressed in front of him and how I liked watching my effect on him. How he had me pinned against the tree with my heart in my throat. How alive I felt when our lips collided.
There were so many up-close-and-personal moments, each one branding itself into my heart like a memory I’d never forget.
I wished I could forget. It would have been a lot easier keeping my gaze transfixed on the blackboard instead of scolding myself every five seconds.
From what I noticed, it seemed Madeline was outcasted by the popular group this week. Piper said she heard bits and pieces about Christian calling her out at a party over the weekend, and there was word that he told her to stay away from me, too—which was conflicting.
I was half-angry that Christian acted like I needed his help and protection, but the other half of me relished in it.
I was a mess.
And that didn’t even touch my home situation. The house felt like one big shard of glass, and if I stepped the wrong way, I’d be cut. It was suffocating. Pete was a ticking time bomb, and I was pretty sure I was the fuse.
Pulling out my notebook and smoothing out my skirt, I got myself ready for Mr. Calhoun’s lecture about Shakespeare. I’d been keeping up with the course load just fine at English Prep, and I only had a few more colleges to apply to, plus many more scholarships. A few of the teachers had already pulled me aside to tell me that they were impressed, even after only a few weeks, and they’d have my recommendation letters drafted up quickly. At least one thing in my life was going well.
My skin prickled as the dynamic in the room changed. People hushed; glances were stolen. It meant that Christian and Ollie had walked in. It was like that every morning.
The sounds of conversations about the football game erupted in the room when Eric mentioned that college scouts were coming to watch. A few girls were talking about what they were going to wear, complaining that they just weren’t sure. Oh, how nice it would be for my biggest worry to be what I was going to wear to a football game.
I was supposed to go to the game with Piper. I had promised her last week, but it was basically the last thing on earth that I wanted to do, although it did beat being locked in my bedroom.
A word caught my ear as Mr. Calhoun started to write something on the blackboard. It was Ollie’s voice. “Yeah, fuck Oakland. They play like a bunch of little bitches.”
“Language, Ollie,” Mr. Calhoun scolded.
My chest burned. “Oakland?” I turned and looked at Ollie. The entire room fell silent. All eyes were on me.
“She talks!” Eric raised his fist up! “Finally! I was wondering what that pretty voice sounded like.”
Ollie ignored him, glancing at me through his thick eyelashes. His voice grew softer with me than when he was talking to everyone else, and in any other circumstance, that would have annoyed me, but right now I couldn’t think of anything other than the anxiety rising up. “Yeah, we play Oakland on Friday at home.”
Oakland here? Gabe.
I shot up quickly out of my seat, my notebook tumbling to the floor. My words were choppy as Mr. Calhoun turned around to see the commotion. “May I…use...the restroom?”
“Yes, hurry back,” he answered, but I was already halfway out the door. My insides sizzled with an undeniable amount of anxiety. There was a touch of anger, too.
Do not let him have an effect on you, Hayley.
Did Gabe even know that I went to school here? I
plowed through the girl’s restroom. The smell of bleach and a fruity scent did nothing to comfort me. I placed my hands on the cool, tiled wall and dropped my head to stare at my Chucks.
The last words he threw in my direction rang throughout my head when I squeezed my eyes shut. Then came the entire eclipse of that night from not too long ago.
I pulled my eyes open as I felt something beside me. The room was dark except for the moon shining through the lavender, sheer curtains to my left. It took my vision a few moments to adjust, but when they did, I saw Gabe leaning down above my head.
“Gabe? What are you doing?” I tried to sit up, but he didn’t move. He just continued to tower over me, his light hair hanging down below his eyes. “Are you drunk again? You’re in the wrong room.”
His voice was husky, low. “I’m not in the wrong room.” Slowly, he took a seat by my feet, and I hurriedly pulled them up out of his way.
“Then what are you doing in here?” I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s two in the morning.”
“Did you like the new clothes my mom brought home for you?”
I glanced at the shopping bag near the desk I did my schoolwork on. I shrugged. “I haven’t looked at them yet.”
Gabe ran his hand through his hair, the ends flipping up around his ears, casting shadows along his T-shirt. “You know, they always wanted a girl after they had me. But Mom couldn’t get pregnant anymore. Something with my birth did something to her, permanently destroying any chance to have another child.” He looked over at me, and something had shifted in his demeanor.
I considered Gabe a friend, a brother almost. He wasn’t, of course. He was my foster brother, and I’d only been placed with the Santiellos two months ago. But they were a nice family. They bought me things, made me dinner every night. Gabe drove me to school every day and yelled at his friends who made fun of my homely attire—which was probably why there was a bag of brand-new clothes sitting on my floor. But tonight, Gabe looked sinister. His voice was eerie. I had my antennae up.
There were a few times over the last couple of weeks that he’d asked me to go to a party with him “to hang out with the cool kids,” but I had declined every time. Popular kids weren’t my scene. And I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the roof over my head. After all, they fed me and clothed me. It was the least I could do to follow their rules.
Gabe inched closer to me, and I gulped. “Gabe, whatever you’re doing, stop.”
He halted, hovering a breath away. My vision was adjusted now, and the look in his eyes was nothing like I’d ever seen before.
“Do you like living here, Hayley?”
At this particular moment, I wasn’t so sure. But I answered him. “Yes.”
“Then you’ll be okay with me sneaking in here every so often, right?”
I bristled at the thought. “Um...” Courage found its way up my throat and out of my mouth. “I don’t know what type of foster sister you’re used to having, but I’m not like that. So, please go back to your room.”
He pounced on me as the words left my mouth. Fear clawed at me, but the anger inside of me shut it down quickly. Gabe wasn’t used to being told no—that much was obvious. He muttered things like, “a tease,” as he tried to get a hold of me, but Gabe also wasn’t used to a girl who had been through hell and back. This wasn’t my first foster home, and it surely wouldn’t be my last.
I rolled off the bed after giving him a swift knee to the groin. He moaned as I jerked up from the floor, ready to bolt out the door, but he caught my foot at the last second. His large hands wrapped around my waist as he pulled me up and pushed me against the wall.
“Let me go,” I rushed out, my hair falling out of my face.
His breath was hot on my skin as he quickly shifted his hands to my flailing arms. Should I scream? Would his parents even hear me on the third floor? Would they even believe me over him? Doubtful.
“Stop fighting this. I know you want it. Walking around the house in those short shorts every morning.” Gabe’s hands moved quickly as he gathered both of mine in his one. His other hand crept down along my body, curving over my breasts and down the front of my sleep shorts. I fought back the tears and told myself to keep fighting. He didn’t get to take something that wasn’t his. My body was not for the taking. Once his fingers dipped inside of me, his grasp loosened slightly, which was enough to wake up the fighter girl inside of me. I reared my head back and banged it off his so hard he tumbled backwards, cursing under his breath.
My heart was lodged in my throat, and I could taste the metallic zing of blood in my mouth, but I ran for the door and skipped almost the entire flight of steps before I reached the front door.
Gabe was quick on his feet, his large strides covering much more distance than my short ones. What can I do to make him stop? He was bigger than me. I couldn’t outrun him. His parents were upstairs asleep, and I wasn’t sure I could trust them to be on my side anyway.
I eyed the garage to my left. I hurriedly skidded over the pebble-lined driveway and jammed my fingers into the code lock. 2-3-0-1-2. The doors started to climb up, and I slid underneath, out of sight. It was dark and smelled of must and engine oil. But I knew where Gabe’s baseball bat was. It was tucked away in the corner until baseball season came around.
The wooden handle felt comforting underneath my skin, my palms savoring the strength the weapon gave me. I heard Gabe’s footsteps, pounding and heavy. I knew he saw me in the corner, lurking near his precious Mustang.
His body was outlined by the deep night sky, the stars and moon glowing behind him. The garage was lit up just enough so he could see me raise the bat.
“I always did like a chase. Stop running from me, Hayley. You keep your mouth shut, spread those pretty little legs, and you can stay living here. Maybe my parents will even adopt you.”
“You’re sick, Gabe.”
He crept toward me, blood trickling from his nose. Good. I made him bleed.
“You won’t get the chance to touch me again.” I raised the bat higher as his eyes widened. I drove it headfirst into the windshield of his Mustang, causing the alarm to blare, waking the entire neighborhood. Rage filled his body. He ran after me so fast I couldn’t keep myself from falling backward into the wall. Various sports balls fell upon our tangled bodies, our limbs getting tangled as he hit me and as I clawed him.
Gabe got in a few punches that night.
But so did I.
I thought I’d won. His parents ended up coming down and breaking us apart. The neighbors’ lights flicked on. We had caused a scene. He lied to his parents, and they bought it.
I was whisked away and sent to juvie, later finding out that his parents dropped the charges. For what reason? I had no clue. I was a little relieved, but the last words Gabe spoke to me had buried themselves into my brain, just like the words of the faceless thugs who killed my father. Before I was shuffled out of the Santiellos’ house that night, Gabe leaned into my personal space and spat, “The next time I see you, you’ll pay for this.”
Heavy breaths escaped my mouth as my hands stayed glued to the tiled wall. I was angry that the recent memory had hit me head-on. I was also angry that I could feel the remnants of fear. I was sweating. Small droplets of salty moisture lined my forehead.
I yelped and fell backwards onto my butt when the girl’s bathroom door flew open, revealing a set of gray eyes that resembled the moon versus the normal storm cloud.
Christian’s brow furrowed when he found me on the floor. I looked away quickly. Embarrassed. “What happened at Oakland?”
Jesus. He wants to know everything.
I slowly pushed myself up off my butt and took a steady breath. Fear had no place in my body right now. The past was the past. It could affect the future, but it surely couldn’t be changed.
“What are you talking about?”
Reaching up and tucking my hair behind my ear, I glanced into the mirror. Yikes. My face was pale, slick with sw
eat. My lips were blood-red from biting down on them.
“Something happened there, and I want to know what.”
His voice was demanding and distant but still had a small twinge of warmness intertwined. My head slowly swiveled over to him, and we caught each other’s eyes. I begged my gaze to stay fixed on his, but it didn’t listen. My eyes bounced down to his set of pale, full lips—the ones that caved in to mine just a few nights ago.
It had felt good to kiss him. Too good.
Things sparked inside of me, which only made me lash out. I brushed past him, needing to get control of myself. “Like I said before…” I stopped right beside him in the doorway of the bathroom. We were inches apart. His fresh, woodsy scent was the only thing I smelled. “I depend on me and only me.”
With that, I walked back to class feeling a little bit empowered. Maybe facing my fears would be a good thing. Maybe I should show up to the game with Piper and look Gabe right in the eye, proving that he had no effect on me. The next time I see you, you’ll pay. Yeah, we’ll see, Gabe.
He wasn’t the first person to threaten me.
And it was time I stopped being afraid of these empty threats. I’d been through far too much to back down now.
Later that day, I was sitting with Piper during lunch, the pair of us tucked away in the corner, looking out into the cafeteria. I was debating with myself if I should go to the game or not.
I wanted to look Gabe right in the eye and tell him I wasn’t afraid of him, but deep down, I may have been a little. I learned that you couldn’t trust someone from the outside looking in—or maybe even if you were on the inside with them. People were unpredictable. It was human nature. Even I was unpredictable at times. Kissing Christian proved that.