by Wendi Wilson
This was never going to work if I couldn’t get my fucking libido under control.
“Hey,” Mason said, breaking my trance.
My eyes snapped to his face as my cheeks heated. I panicked for a moment until he smiled, and everything within me calmed. His catching me staring was a good thing. Even my obvious embarrassment was a point in my favor. If Mason thought I still wanted him, he’d be more inclined to open himself up to the possibilities.
But I most certainly did not want him. It was a momentary lapse, that’s all. I just needed make sure I didn’t forget all the terrible deeds he’d been part of or privy to.
“So, I thought we could use this as the platform Juliet is laying on inside the tomb. Romeo will enter from there,” he said, pointing to the bedroom door.
“Sounds good,” I squeaked, then cleared my throat.
“Great. Do you have your copy of the dialogue?”
I nodded, pulling the sheets of paper from my notebook. Following Mason’s direction, I stretched out across the pallet as he headed into the bedroom. As there were only the two of us, we’d decided to omit the part of the play where Romeo carried Paris’s dead body into the tomb. It would take away some of the raw emotion when we presented if he was pretending to carry someone, or even worse, substituted with a doll or dummy.
I crossed my hands over my middle and closed my eyes, waiting for Mason to begin. I heard his footsteps rush across the floor as he started to speak.
“Oh, my love. My wife! Death has stolen your last breath, but it has not yet ruined your beauty. You haven’t been conquered.”
I swallowed against a lump in my throat as his words swelled with passion. Not real. Not real. Not real, I chanted silently as I felt Mason kneel down beside me.
“Your lips and your cheeks are still red. Death has not yet turned them pale. Ah, dear Juliet, why are you still so beautiful? I will stay here with you, and I will never leave this tomb. I’ll rest here forever, forgetting about all the bad luck that has troubled me.”
His voice deepened, sounding almost husky as he continued.
“My eyes shall see for the last time. My arms, make their last embrace. My lips shall breathe no more.”
I felt him lean over me, his breath caressing my face as he whispered, “I shall seal with a righteous kiss, the never ending deal I have made with death.”
Not real. No—
Then his lips brushed mine, igniting all my nerves with a jolt of electricity. He pulled away, and I felt him plop down beside me and pause for a moment before speaking again.
“Come, bitter poison. Oh, desperate pilot, let us crash and burn among the rocks. Here’s to my love!”
I heard some exaggerated swallowing sounds before Mason, fell over onto his side.
“The pharmacist spoke the truth. This drug works quickly, and now I die with the quickness of a kiss.”
I counted five beats like we’d planned, then stretched my arms out with a sigh. I sat up, rubbing my eyes.
“Romeo, are you here?”
I looked around, then spying him on the floor, crawled on my hands and knees toward him, gripping my lines in one fist. This part took a little improvisation, since in the original play, Friar Lawrence was present and speaking to Juliet.
“He is dead,” I cried, injecting a fair amount of despair into my voice. Pulling an imaginary bottle from his hand, I studied it for a moment. “What is this? Poison? He drank it all, not even leaving a drop for me.”
I looked at his mouth, his gorgeous lips, as I dropped the pretend bottle and placed a palm on his cheek.
“Maybe some poison remains on your lips,” I say, leaning over him. “One last kiss to kill me, too.”
I touched my mouth to his, fighting to keep it fleeting and gentle despite the urge to run my tongue over his lips before delving inside to taste him fully. I heard his breath catch in his throat as I pulled back, hovering mere inches above him.
“Your lips are warm.”
I jerked my head up and to the left, pausing for a moment before looking back down at Mason.
“Someone is coming. I need to be quick.” I reached down, pretending to pick up a dagger. “Oh good, a knife. Make my body your sheath, where you will remain, forever.”
I rolled onto my back and mimicked stabbing myself, letting my body splay out over Mason’s chest. We lay there like that, both of us dead, for several moments before I shifted to roll off of him. His arm wrapped over my waist, holding me in place.
“Mason?” I whispered.
“Sorry,” he muttered, releasing me.
I rolled off of him and climbed to my feet. He twisted onto his hands and knees before pushing himself up to stand beside me.
“That was good, right?” he asked. “I thought it sounded more modern without taking away all the magic of Shakespeare’s verse.”
“I agree,” I breathed.
“I have a camping pallet we can use for our actual presentation. I thought we could cover it with satin sheets.”
“That’ll work,” I said, trying my best not to picture myself rolling on a satin-covered bed with Mason.
“I’ll talk to Jasper and see if we can have him move the desks into a circle, so we can be in the middle of the room where everyone can see.”
“Sounds good,” I said, edging my way to the door.
“Are you leaving?” he asked. “I thought you’d want to practice more.”
No way was I going through that again. Kissing Mason, however fake it was supposed to be, was having adverse effects on my traitorous body. I needed time and space to get my head on straight.
“We have plenty of time,” I said. “Our costumes should be in by the end of next week, and our presentation isn’t until the week after.”
“Okay,” he said, but his tone told me he really wanted to argue.
To keep me there, rolling around on the floor as we kissed each other before dying, again and again. And while I couldn’t let that happen, I also couldn’t let Mason lose interest. Or hope.
“Thanks for this, Mason,” I said, my voice soft and sultry. “I’m glad we can work together, and it gives me hope that maybe one day we can be close again. I’ve missed you.”
Without giving him time to respond, I darted through the door and practically ran all the way to my car. I needed him to think I was being shy. That I’d been embarrassed by the admission, as if the words had spilled out without my permission.
I had about two and a half weeks before this partnership was over. Two and a half weeks to make Mason Bellamy love me, even if only a little bit.
Seventeen days to break his heart as maliciously as he’d done mine.
15
I woke up too early on Saturday morning, but couldn’t manage to go back to sleep no matter how hard I tried. My mind was rolling on overdrive, thinking about my revenge plans—what I’d already accomplished, what I still had to do.
But my main worry was Seth. I’d managed to avoid him for the most part since posting that video, but I had a feeling my luck was about to run out. I wanted to be brave and badass, filled with the self-righteous fire of justice being served. If he came at me with accusations and recriminations, I needed to remember that what I’d done was warranted. It was his due.
As I lay there in my warm bed, though, I couldn’t stop the unwanted twinges of guilt.
I imagined Seth interacting with my mother. Of his silence regarding my obvious part in his humiliation. He seemed almost…humble.
People were still laughing and pointing when he entered a room, yet he never defended himself. As far as I knew, he hadn’t told anyone outside of his inner circle that it had been me that posted the video.
In the dining hall at school, the Rogues were more isolated than usual. They’d always held themselves apart, their lofty station considered well above and beyond the rest of the students and staff at Everly Prep.
But this was different. Though not quite shunned—at least, not yet—Seth’s humiliation h
ad put a dent in their shiny throne. It seemed the peasants were enjoying seeing their kings brought down a peg or two.
What surprised me, though, was that the Rogues didn’t seem to care. Seth ignored everyone around him without comment or complaint. Theo, at least since Josh’s alleged hook up with Henderson, was even more sullen and silent than usual. Cooper wasn’t smiling, and I hadn’t even done anything to him, yet.
And Mason, well, I caught him watching me more times than I was comfortable with. Even though it meant my plan was working, I felt little joy when his blue eyes seemed to sear my very soul.
I patted a hand across the top of my night stand until my fingers closed around my phone. The bright screen burned my eyes as I tapped it, looking for my revenge list. I pulled it up, my fingers flying over the glass as I made a few changes to document my recent actions against my enemies.
Chaz Gets Her Revenge
Charlotte Rutherford- Randall Walsely video, admission of guilt footage, break up Roguettes
Seth Kincaid- Make home life hell. Destroy reputation at school with bathroom footage.
Theo Davenport- Hook Josh up with Henderson, drive Theo crazy with jealousy.
Cooper Calloway- ?
Isla Bishop- Break up Roguettes-leave alone and isolated.
Amelia Westwood- Same as Isla. Two birds, one stone.
Stella Bellamy- Off limits! May be of some help.
Mason Bellamy- Break. His. Heart. (While keeping mine whole and hard.)
I still had no ideas for Cooper. No insight into his true heart to know what would hurt him. I hoped something would come to me, some brilliant idea to cause him pain and embarrassment.
And I hoped it happened fast. While I was dedicated to the plan and in for the long haul, I felt tired. Tired of the deceitful games and constant battle of wits. Tired of the war.
But not tired enough to give up. I had no doubt that these people deserved every bit of what I gave them. Not just for me, but for the countless others who’d endured their nasty words and devious plots. No, I had no plans to let go of my anger or change my tactics. I just wanted it to be over sooner, rather than later, so I could finally rest easy.
Not wanting to hide under my covers all day, I dragged myself from the bed. Once I showered and brushed my teeth, I felt marginally better. I was perusing my closet for an outfit when my phone dinged with an incoming text message.
My eyes bugged when I saw it was from Mason.
Hey. I know this is weird, but there’s this party tonight in Cypress Pointe, and I was wondering if you’d like to go.
I was reading the short message for a second time when another text came through.
It doesn’t have to be a date or anything. I just thought you might enjoy meeting some new people. And getting out of town for the night.
My heart beat to a faster rhythm as I considered the implications. Mason wanted to hang out with me, on a Saturday night, and it had nothing to do with our school project. He wanted to take me to a party in Cypress Pointe, which was a few towns over.
Was this some sort of malicious set up? Would I be ambushed, humiliated, or even hurt, then left there with no way home? It was possible.
But the chance to further my agenda if Mason was being sincere was too tempting. I could take precautions to protect myself—pepper spray in my purse and taking my own car.
Okay, but I’m driving, I sent back, and his reply was immediate.
Great. Pick me up at 8!
I’ll be there.
I tossed my phone on the bed after sending that response. I dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, knowing I’d shower again and change later for the party. I threw my long hair up into a messy bun and slipped my feet into a pair of casual flats.
I shoved my phone into my back pocket, flicked off the lights, and headed downstairs with my head held high. My interaction with Mason left me feeling confident. My plan was working, and I had no doubt that I would come out the other side of this on top. I was not going to let guilt or familial ties bring me down.
Seth deserved what he got. And I was not going to hide from him, or anybody else. If he wanted to call me out, he could bring it. I could muster a few tears of denial in front of the parentals. But I wasn’t too worried. If he wanted to tell them or show them the video, he would have already done it.
No, this war was between me and him. The volley was on, and the ball was in his court.
I walked into the kitchen and found Seth seated, hunched over a bowl of cereal. Memories assailed me of one of our first interactions, when I’d found him much the same way and getting him to talk to me was like pulling teeth. He looked up as I entered, stared at me for just a moment, then dropped his gaze back to his breakfast.
My body vibrated with tension as I crossed the space to pour my own bowl of cereal. I was on high alert, steeling my spine for a verbal skirmish, but Seth remained silent. I almost wished he’d just yell at me. His anger would boost my own, and I could spit out all the reasons he deserved what he got, and more.
He said nothing as I slid onto a barstool, leaving two empty between us. I tried to chew quietly, but the crunchy chocolate cereal popped and crackled between my teeth like firecrackers on the fourth of July. Seth said something in a quiet voice, but I couldn’t hear it over the crunching noises.
“What?” I asked after I’d swallowed the bite I’d been chewing.
“I said the Chevelle is sweet.”
“Oh. Thanks,” I mumbled.
That was not at all what I was expecting. He sounded normal. Almost…kind. Did he want to let bygones be bygones? To let the whole thing go and consider us even? Did I?
I wasn’t sure how I felt about his cordial attitude. I supposed there was a chance he was faking it, playing some con to get me placid and comfortable with him again. But if he was sincere, what did that say about me and my revenge games? Was what I did to him so inconsequential, he was happy to just let it go?
I wasn’t sure which scenario I preferred. He and his friends had wrecked me. I’d hoped to cause more than a scratch.
“I can see the wheels turning in that beautiful blonde head of yours.”
My eyes jerked up to meet Seth’s, wide with shock. Shock that he was still trying to have a conversation and that he’d called me beautiful. What the hell was happening?
“I understand why you did what you did,” he murmured, his light brown eyes holding no deceit or malice. “It’s the least I deserved.”
My mouth fell open, and I snapped it shut, hoping my teeth weren’t caked in chocolate. I ran my tongue over them, not speaking until I was satisfied they were generally clean.
“You’re right about that,” I said. “You deserve worse.”
“I know, Chaz. I know.”
With that, he stood, taking his bowl to the sink and rinsing it out. Without another glance in my direction, he left me alone in the kitchen with nothing but my thoughts and a bowl of now-soggy cereal. I watched him go, staring at the empty doorway long after he’d passed through it.
First Mason, and now Seth, himself, had both told me they understood why I tried to ruin him. Neither seemed to be terribly upset about it, nor were they threatening me with payback. Their reactions didn’t fit the image I held of them—a bunch of demons hell-bent on fucking up my life.
I was confused. But maybe that’s what they wanted. Maybe keeping me off-kilter was the foundation of whatever they had planned for me next.
I picked up my bowl of brown slop and carried it to the sink. I dumped it down the garbage disposal and flicked the switch to turn on the power. Turning it off, I stared into the black hole where the food was ground into bits small enough to wash down the pipe.
Those boys were like that disposal, and I was the scraps left over after everyone had eaten their fill. They wanted to grind me to pulp and watch me wash away, never to be seen or heard from again.
I wasn’t going to let that happen. I would have my revenge, and I could handle anything new they threw at
me.
No head games, confessions, or boys trying to be martyrs were going to stop me. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I was going to stop now. I’d barely just begun.
16
I spent the rest of the morning in my room, watching corny rom-com movies on my phone until it was after noon and I was sure Josh was awake. I called him to tell him about my weird conversation with Seth and the “date” I had with Mason that night.
I barely got any details out before he was talking over me, telling me he’d be right over, and hanging up. I stared at the blank screen of my phone for a moment, my head shaking at his exuberance before tossing the device onto the mattress beside me.
I rolled over to stare out the window, noting the dark skies above the barren trees. It looked like it might snow, and the thought of driving my new baby on icy roads sent a shiver of unease down my spine. I don’t know if I could take it if I had an accident and crushed, or even dented, her beautiful body.
I sat up and grabbed my phone, pulling up the weather app, which stated there was a small chance of snow and ice. I threw my head back and groaned. Great.
I allowed myself to indulge in a little dread, but just for a moment before shaking it off. I planned to drive that Chevelle forever, and there was no way I was going to escape driving in foul weather conditions my entire life. I’d just have to get used to it. And drive very carefully.
Josh’s bright yellow sports car pulled into the drive, and I rushed downstairs to meet him. He was loping up the steps as I swung open the front door. I grabbed his hand as I greeted him, pulling him inside and straight up the stairs to my room.
“Tell me everything,” he said, sprawling out on my bed. “And don’t leave out a single detail.”
I sat down on the edge of the mattress, telling Josh about my practice session with Mason the day before. I did as he asked, spilling every detail, including my unwanted response to Mason’s husky voice and soft lips against mine.
“Are you still sure this is a good idea?” he asked when I was finished. “Maybe you should come up with a new plan. One that doesn’t put you in such close proximity with him.”