by Ella Col
Reckless
By
Ella Col
Copyright © 2014 Ella Col, Author
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.
No reproduction without the permission of the author. All characters and events are fictional.
Ella Col/Reckless
Edited by Jenny Sims
Cover Photo Courtesy of CanStockPhoto.com
Cover Design: Ella Col
Formatting by: http://design.lkcampbell.com
Acknowledgements
To my street team-Brittany Reece, Brook Gerber, & Jennifer Watkins- Your endless support and commitment to my work is vast. There are no words that I can write that will tell you what your encouragement means to me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
To my Beta, Christie Mitchum- Thank you for sticking with me. From the very beginning you’ve been by my side. I truly appreciate everything that you do for me.
Chapter One
“Mr. Freeman?” I squeak out, letting the headmaster know I’m here. I’m nervous. It’s not every day that I nark on someone. It doesn’t feel right. However, she wants me to do it.
Mr. Freeman is tall…like freakishly tall. I suppose to the average fifth grader he would seem that way. His ungodly height makes me more nervous than I was before. ‘Stretch’ flops into his chair bringing himself to my level. It helps…a little.
I swear Mr. Freeman is a dead ringer for the creepy dude from The Addams Family.
“Sit down, Kevin,” Lurch’s twin doppledanger orders.
Mr. Freeman fumbles with the paper on his desk. Once his desk is semi-cleared, he directs his attention to me. His glasses seem to slip down the bridge of his nose constantly. Therefore, he’s developed a nervous tick of pushing them up over and over again. Freak.
I fold my hands over my lap. My eyes shift from the floor to my hands never looking Mr. Freeman in the eye. That should tell you something. I’m doing the wrong thing. I know I’m an awful person for doing this…a weak person for doing this.
Then again, when Hannah explained why she wanted me to do it, it seemed like the right thing to do. A pretty girl can persuade a fifth grade boy to do anything.
“To what do I owe the honor, Mr. Nash?” I know I don’t have the greatest of track records with the headmaster. I have a habit of playing harmless, occasional jokes on teachers now and again. But, damn, if he doesn’t sound annoyed by my presence.
Here goes nothing. “I know who pushed Hannah Moore and her friends.” Actually, it was the other way around. Well…sort of.
See, Hannah started it, and now she is going to finish it…like she always does. Hannah will always get the last word. Hannah will always get what she wants. Hell, I’m only ten years old, and I know this.
For reasons unknown, Hannah teases and taunts the most beautiful little girl I have ever seen. Reece is by far the cutest girl in the fifth grade class. And she doesn’t even know it. How could she? Her nose is always stuck in a book.
For sure, the runner-up is Hannah. Hannah doesn’t like to come in second place, though. Therefore, she tortures Reece every chance she gets. And Reece takes it. Secretly, I always wish that Reece would stick up for herself. She is such a sweet girl. My wishes go unanswered, of course, leading me to Mr. Freeman.
“You do?” Mr. Freeman almost jumps out of his chair.
What I’m about to tell Mr. Freeman is going to make him a very happy man. I’m sure Hannah’s dad made a call to the trustees of our private school, threatening to shut it down if Hannah doesn’t get her way. If I can fix this with simple information, Mr. Freeman and Hannah will award me for good behavior.
In Hannah’s eyes, I will be faithful and trustworthy. In Mr. Freeman’s eyes…well…I’ll still be a little asshole, but maybe he can look past some of my indiscretions. Right or wrong, it’s something I promised Hannah I would do.
“Yes, I do.” I still can’t seem to utter the truth. Why is this so hard?
Mr. Freeman raises his eyebrows as if to tell me to ‘get on with it’. “And?”
I sigh and let it rip. “Hannah was teasing Reece again.” Mr. Freeman doesn’t flinch. He’s not surprised. “And she pushed Reece to the ground. A dark-haired boy from the public school tried to help Reece. In doing so, he managed to push Hannah and some of her friends out of the way.”
Hannah would like me to lie to make it worse than it was. She would want me to say that she and her snotty little friends were hurt badly by this boy. However, I can’t seem to do it. I don’t need to. Mr. Freeman doesn’t seem to have a problem with feeding me what I have to say to make this problem go away. “So, this boy scared you and Hannah?”
No.
“I don’t think he was trying to. He just wanted to help Reece.”
“But, you said he pushed Hannah. Clearly, he was trying to hurt her,” Mr. Freeman adds color to the story.
“Well, sort of,” my fifth-grade brain agrees.
“This boy marched from across the street to assault you and your friends. And who is to say that Hannah pushed Reece? Reece is a clumsy girl. Maybe she fell. She is a friend of yours, correct? You wouldn’t let anything happen to her,” Mr. Freeman’s story continues.
I let it happen every day. In actuality, I don’t even talk to Reece that much anymore because Hannah makes it worse for Reece if I do. “Of course not, Mr. Freeman.”
Mr. Freeman appears to be pleased with my confession. “Well done. Now, about the boy, do you know his name?”
Dammit. I do know his name. I’ve played against him during recreational baseball.
Play dumb, snitch.
I see Hannah’s pretty blue eyes in my head, and I cave like the little shit that I am. “It’s Caydon, sir.”
Mr. Freeman gives me a semi clap. “Thank you, Mr. Nash. You’ve been very helpful. I can call Mr. Moore with the good news. This will all be handled by tomorrow, and I can carry on.” Yeah, he admitted that out loud.
Without another word, I slither out of my seat like the snake I am. I saunter down the hallway lost in my thoughts.
Hannah swore that this was the right thing to do. Then, why does it feel so shitty?
Caydon had the balls to do what I didn’t. He stuck up for an innocent girl. Instead of making things better, I just made them worse. Caydon is going to get in trouble for this. And Hannah will continue to badger Reece. Justice is not served.
What in the hell? Caydon is probably used to getting in trouble anyway. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without a black eye. This is a walk in the park for him. Keep trying to convince yourself, Nash.
Out of nowhere, Hannah jumps out from behind a locker and startles me. “Did you do it?”
With a guilty expression, I nod my head.
“Cheer up, grumpy. That kid had it coming to him anyway.” A huge smile spreads across Hannah’s face. She’s happy. And when she is happy, I’m happy.
She throws herself into my arms and holds me tight. “You’re my best friend, Nash. I love you.”
I love you, too.
Chapter Two
Five Years Later…
Friends? Heh. I don’t have many. I know why. It’s because of her.
Some days, I feel like it’s worth it…not having friends, that is. Good things come to those who wait. Right?
She’ll be mine. One day. How do I know this? She’s promised me a million times that we will end up together.
Hannah says she wants to keep me to herself. I’m that special. Damn, I almost believe her. The truth is, when I’m with Hannah, my heart sings. She makes me feel that good.
There are other days when she can’t make
me feel any lower. Those days are the worst. And today is one of those days. Watching her trot away with my best friend makes me want to take a steel knife and cut my heart out.
Fuck…I knew it was coming. Hannah’s been on the hunt for Caydon for what seems like months. He resisted like good friends do.
Shit, even he broke for Hannah. It’s too damn easy to do. Every guy does. Eventually, she gets what she wants no matter who or what she has to tear apart to get it. And she is tearing me apart right now.
I’m in love with her.
I suppose I’m not painting a very nice picture of Hannah…the girl I’m in love with. After all, love isn’t supposed to feel like this. All I feel is heartache, misery, and jealousy.
Caydon is a decent guy. Plus, he’s been a good friend to me. Hell, he’s my only fucking friend. He’ll be good to Hannah. I have no doubt. Except, I’m better for her. I know her like no other knows her.
Hannah is sweet, childlike, and innocent. To the outside world, she is spoiled, bitchy, and a brat. Don’t get me wrong, most of that is true, too. She’s just a product of her environment. I’m definitely not making excuses for her. However, if you keep someone caged up and only show one side of everything, that’s all they will ever know. That’s Hannah. She’s only known what it’s like to get everything that she’s ever wanted.
And today, she wants Caydon. I love her so much that I deliver her right into his arms. Well…sort of.
***
Hannah straddles my lap and twirls her hair. Fucking tease.
I hold onto her, barely touching her. After all, we’re only friends. I can’t cross that line.
My fifteen-year-old hormones want to grab her ass and push her down on my cock. Be like Nike and just do it.
“So, is Caydon going to be there tonight?” Hannah sucks on a lollipop. Her blue eyes twinkle when she says his name. Yeah, she almost just killed my hard-on. Almost.
I hate it when she brings him up. It punctures a hole in my Hannah and Nash bubble.
“Probably.” I act uninterested. It’s not like I want to think of Caydon right now. I want to think of my dick…inside Hannah. My dick in Hannah’s hand. My dick in Hannah’s mouth. My dick. I’m fifteen, for fuck’s sake. It’s all about my dick.
“Good.” Hannah gyrates intentionally while enjoying my natural reaction. Fuck.
Two can play at this game. I slightly lurch my dick up hoping she feels it. How couldn’t she? It’s almost stabbing through my jeans.
Hannah takes my chin between two fingers and jerks my head toward her. Jesus.
We’re face to face with only an inch of air keeping our lips apart. Her lips curl into a naughty smile. She pushes herself down as if she is riding me. Yeah. Just. Like. That.
Clearly, the little vixen has the upper hand because with every thrust of her hips, I lose all control. Sure, there are clothes between us, but every movement she makes gets me closer to shooting my load. “Hannah you have to stop.” Or not.
She keeps going, defying me as usual. “Uh huh…no.”
A couple more thrusts and I’m done for. I’m only two seconds away from really embarrassing myself.
“Please stop,” I pant. Yep… humiliation coming in… five… four… three… two… one.
She doesn’t. And then, it happens. I come in front of the girl I’m in love with. “Fuck…Hannah.”
We never kissed. We still had our clothes on.
Leave it to a little ‘bump and grind’ to get me off and mortify me.
Hannah removes herself from my lap. She begins to walk away and throws her chin over her shoulder. “Make sure Caydon tags along tonight.” She laughs at me as she sways her hips walking away. What. The. Fuck.
Fucking Hannah.
Later
“So, Hannah asked me if you were going to Dallas’s crib?” I fucking hate being her bitch. Yet, I love it at the same time.
“Not like I have anything better to do.” I watch Caydon stick a homemade tattoo gun in ash and vodka. As he works on Harlow’s garage tat, he peeks up at me. I can tell he’s truthful. He couldn’t care less whether he hangs out in this garage all night drinking and etching tats into anyone’s skin who asks, or does the same thing at Dallas’s house.
I sigh. The excruciating pain in my own words that are about to escape make my mouth go dry. “Hannah wants you there.” I don’t.
Caydon continues digging into Harlow’s arm. He cocks his eyebrow in question. “And I should care that Hannah wants me there?” Because fucktard… it’s Hannah Moore.
The lawn chair I’m sitting in makes my ass go dumb. I shift back and forth trying to get comfortable. “I guess,” I stutter. “I mean…she’s a hot chick.” Caydon’s indifference to Hannah is pissing me off.
His gun stops. Caydon wipes the sweat under his brow with his forearm. “I’ve had hotter.” Good point.
Again, Caydon’s not lying. He’s had pretty much every piece of ass in this town. He fucks more than any fifteen-year-old guy I know. And all I get is a measly dry hump from the one and only crush I’ve ever had.
“Yeah, but it’s Hannah Moore. Every guy wants her.” What? Shut your cake hole, Nash. I can’t believe I’m delivering my girl right into his arms.
“If you think she’s so fucking ‘on’, then why don’t you fuck her?” Caydon flips the question back to me. I would if I could, asshole.
“We’re just friends,” I answer too quickly.
“Yeah, more like friends with benefits,” Harlow chimes in. “I see you sneaking in her window every fucking night from my window.” Daryl Harlow has lived across the street from Hannah and me all my life. Little did I know...he’s a window stalker.
“You’re a fucking perv, Harlow.” I ignore his comment. “It ain’t like that, man.” Is it?
Hannah did dry fuck me earlier. And I didn’t stop her. She changes in front of me all of the time…showing me her body every chance she gets. I think she might actually get off by teasing me. I know I do.
Caydon wipes the ink from Harlow’s arm. “It’s done, man. What’d you think?”
Harlow looks down at his arm. “Fucking awesome.”
It is…fucking awesome. Caydon is fucking talented. He can draw anything on anyone, and he hasn’t had any training.
“Lookin’ good, Harlow.” I don’t compliment Caydon because I’m pissed. Childish…I know.
I can’t understand why he doesn’t see what a gem Hannah really is. Part of me thinks he ignores her on purpose because he knows I care for her. He’s a stand-up guy like that.
Caydon and I have been friends since seventh grade. He went to public school while I was sent to private school. My school closed just after I completed sixth grade, and our parents were forced to send us to public school. For anyone who’s attended private school and then transferred to public school, you know it’s a completely different world. Public school is its own kind of hell.
My very first day, I got my ass kicked by a ‘townie’ kid. That’s when I met Caydon…again. He saved me by pummeling the shit out of that kid. The ‘townie’ never bothered me again. And Caydon became my best friend. We’ve been inseparable since. Hard to believe, I know. After what I did to him in fifth grade, he should have never saved my ass from that fight. But he did.
Not much has changed. Caydon still fights…usually for stupid reasons. Mostly, it’s because someone looks at him the wrong way. I’m just thankful I’m not the one who is on the receiving end of his wrath. I pick my allies well.
This reminds me to focus on my mission. “So, I guess I should tell Hannah we’re coming?”
Caydon hisses. “Why do you constantly have to give an attendance report to that little twit every time we do something? It’s annoying as fuck.”
“I’m not doing it for me, man. Hannah wants you there.” I’m doing it for her. I’d do anything for her.
“When are you going to stop being her bitch?” he chides.
“You’re like her fucking jester,” Harlow
laughs. “You remind me of that little rat that sat next to Jabba the Hutt.”
I chuck an empty beer can at Harlow. “Shithead. It’s Salacious Crumb.”
“What?” The dude is dumb as hell. His Star Wars knowledge is limited.
“The fucking rat. Salacious Crumb is the rat’s name, asshat.”
Caydon ignores Harlow and me while he cleans up. Clearly, he doesn’t give a shit about this conversation. “I’m going to text her that we are going to be there.”
Caydon goes still mid cleaning. “You can text her whatever you want. Just because I’m going to be there doesn’t mean I’m gonna hook up with her. By the time she gets to me, I may have my junk stuck in someone else.”
I cringe knowing that Hannah doesn’t mean anything to Caydon. She is just another hole to fuck. To me, she is so much more.
See, Hannah has this smile. It’s a beautiful smile. However, there’s sadness in the smile that only I know is there.
From the time we were five years old, Hannah and I have been inseparable. We’ve shared our hopes and dreams. She was my first kiss. And she is undeniably my first love. I know her fears as well as she knows all of mine.
These are moments we save for each other. To everyone else, we are the rich, beautiful kids who have it fucking all. Sure, it seems that way. But really, the two of us couldn’t be more miserable.
Our fathers are good friends…well, business acquaintances. My family’s company has an investment relationship with Hannah’s dad’s business. There is pressure from both of our families to be perfect…get the perfect grades…date the perfect person. Hannah and I don’t give a shit about any of that stuff. Actually, the pressure to be perfect makes us rebel.
Only Hannah and I can understand the torture our parents instill upon us. And that is what holds Hannah and me together. The misery of it all is the glue that binds us.