Why I Loathe Sterling Lane

by Ingrid Paulson

  He was waiting, patient as a panther. His eyes tracked my every move.

  “You know, you’re hiding a fantastic little body under that pup tent.” His words were low enough that only I could to hear.

  “It’s not a pup tent.” My voice was shriller than I’d ever heard it. “It’s a dress.”

  “A dress sized for a Sasquatch,” he replied mildly. “And I, for one, am a feminist. Bra burning, and all that. Here to liberate you.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Sterling, but the women of my generation will craft our own model of feminism without input from self-centered, spoiled rich boys.”

  “I love it when you call me that.” His chair creaked as he shifted closer, and I let myself lean closer, too. He wouldn’t dare make a move in public—or would he?

  “You’re hiding one fantastic little body under that oversize inflated head of yours. Too bad I never want to see it again.” In my panic to retort, I didn’t pause to modulate my voice. The words flew out in a shriek.

  Every eye in the classroom locked on me.

  He cleared his throat and tipped his head toward the front of the room. Mrs. Stevens assumed her post, presiding over us, dry-erase marker in hand. She’d heard every word of what I’d just shrieked. I hung my head in shame, willing the moments to fly past as painlessly as possible, knowing that further humiliation waited mere inches behind me. And there he hovered for the rest of class, robbing me of every last drop of concentration.

  When class finally ended, Sterling leaned forward in his seat. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed,” he said. “Look, I don’t care that you steal your underwear from a nursing home. We’ve got bigger fish to fry. We need to talk.”

  My face burned hot enough to melt the ice caps.

  The worst part was, I wasn’t sure what bothered me more—that he’d been thinking judgmental thoughts as we did all those things, while I’d been consumed with the disturbing reality of how very gorgeous he was, or that he’d chosen to share those thoughts with me in the middle of a crowded room.

  My hands curled into fists, and my brain shut right down. Before I said something I’d definitely regret, I turned and walked away.

  “Should I just shout the rest?” His words chased me into the hallway before soaring outward into the farthest reaches of the universe.

  I froze.

  “Thank you.” He approached, dropping his voice into a whisper made just for me. “I have feelings, too, you know. It’s common courtesy to at least hear me out before you storm away.”

  For once, I couldn’t tell if he was teasing, and that made me more anxious than his constant barrage of banter.

  “Neither of us is big on common courtesy,” I said. “But you’re absolutely inhuman if you can say those things to me after what happened.”

  His expression shifted into something approximating somber. “You’re right,” he said, looking me right in the eye. “I apologize.”

  The calm, open way he said it made me take a step back. Only Sterling Lane would be absolutely confident when admitting his mistakes.

  “Will you walk with me, please?” He shoved his hands into his pockets and just stood there, waiting.

  “Fine,” I replied.

  But as we started walking down the hall, Sterling didn’t say a single thing. Instead he kept glancing sideways at me, until the silence stretched so thin I snapped.

  “What did you want, Sterling?” I asked. “Don’t you have some cheerleaders to chase?”

  “My tastes have shifted these days,” he replied, perking up. “You’ve raised the bar. If I don’t get at least two drinks thrown in my face for my trouble, why bother?”

  “Asshole.”

  “You’re usually more creative,” he said, visibly relaxing. “Guess I wore you out Saturday night—what with all the helping Cole, I mean.”

  “Get to the point,” I said.

  “Oh, the quills are extra sharp today,” he said, finally sounding like himself again—all smug and self-satisfied. “Like I told you, Cole was on the phone. Right after I told him I’d be at some fake study group in the library, I overheard him making plans for this afternoon—meeting in our room. So I sneaked his phone out of his bag when he was in the shower. He’d called our old pal Gilbert.”

  “This is our chance,” I said, excitement mingling with dread. “Do we tell Cole that we know? Get him to help us capture a confession?”

  Sterling shook his head. “Cole isn’t up for that kind of performance. We have to keep him in the dark. A grifter like Gilbert will smell play-acting a mile away. We just have to hope that whatever they discuss is incriminating.” He glanced at his watch. “Meet me in my room at four.”

  “Your room?” I might have momentarily forgotten that I hated him, but I wasn’t stupid enough to trust him. “Alone?”

  “Cole’s the one who chose our meeting place. That’s where he’s meeting Gil.” He gave me a tight-lipped smile. “But if that brings back too many memories, you can always bring your best friend Kendall. We all know she’s fantastic with secrets.”

  “Don’t say that about Kendall.” I scowled. Sure, I made fun of her, too, but at least I did it to her face. And most of the time she laughed and fired right back.

  Regardless, Sterling was right; we couldn’t risk bringing anyone else into this plan. The stakes were too high.

  “This isn’t a trick, is it? To get me into your room.” My blush was likely visible from space. Not that we’d do that again, but the sheer humiliation of Cole walking in on us was more than enough to send shock waves of shame rippling through me.

  “With what possible objective?” he asked, hands up in front of himself, all innocence.

  “Never mind.” I didn’t trust myself to be alone with him. I took a step back, because we’d both let our personal space erode over the last few minutes.

  “Don’t worry, little Harper Campbell. This isn’t some elaborate ruse to seduce you. Give me some credit. I know a girl like you would require a far more sophisticated approach.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” A little part of me was flattered that he’d given it thought. Saturday night must have affected him, too—despite his ultracool and controlled exterior. But ultimately, it didn’t matter. I couldn’t afford to let myself give in to whatever was simmering between us.

  “If only I knew.” He looked me straight in the eye as he said it.

  I had to get away from him and this confusing maze of a conversation. “There’s something I forgot to tell you.” I would never let Sterling have the upper hand. “I spent almost an entire night sifting through DMV records. It seems a car wasn’t the only thing Gilbert has stolen.”

  Sterling tipped his head back, smiling.

  “The real Gilbert is eighty-five and lives in Nevada.”

  “Then I’ll bet our pasty little friend has much more to hide.”

  “Exactly,” I said quietly. “I’m guessing you know a way to lift fingerprints? I grabbed Gilbert’s pen that night at dinner. I found a service that’ll run them for a fee if I can put them in this special kit.”

  “I’d say we’re a pretty lethal combination.” I could feel him watching my profile, but there was no way I was turning to acknowledge that playful smile.

  “That’s one way of putting it.”

  Sterling chuckled as he reached out and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Four o’clock,” he said as he turned and walked straight into the heart of the lacrosse clique, where he belonged.

  Reason 25:

  He was overwhelmingly supportive

  when I needed it most,

  all to trick me into trusting him.

  And repeating all of my past mistakes.

  I knocked on the door to Sterling and Cole’s room at four o’clock sharp. Instead of calling out to me, this time Sterling went to the trouble of climbing out of his brown leather chair and opening the door. He looked disturbingly normal in his T-shirt and faded jeans, like any boy next door. I didn’
t think I’d ever seen him wearing anything other than tattered resort wear, so it took me a moment to process his attire. Just long enough that he cracked a grin.

  “I can take my shirt off if it’s getting in your way.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “I haven’t been given such a thorough once-over since I took a modeling gig in eighth grade.” Those teeth flashed. “Kinda nice to know I’ve still got it.”

  “If by it, you mean a massive ego, then yes,” I replied.

  “The way you’re blushing confirms it’s more than warranted.” He slid his index finger down my wrist. I jerked my hand away, but not before his touch released an unwelcome little ripple of anticipation. He frowned, and for half an instant, I thought I saw uncertainty cross his face. Was it possible that painfully self-assured boy was upset I’d pulled away?

  He shoved his hands into his pockets in an almost-shrug. As if hiding the offending appendages.

  I opened my mouth to say something snappy, but nothing came out. I had no idea how to steer this interaction back into our familiar combative territory.

  He strolled back toward his desk, leaving the door wide open. I took it as an invitation to follow, but I approached warily, careful to keep as much distance from his horrible leather chair as possible. Like it might jump up and grab me.

  I glanced back at the hallway, wishing the dorm didn’t feel so very deserted. I didn’t want to be alone in a secluded place with him. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure who I trusted less, Sterling or myself.

  “You can leave the door open if that makes you more comfortable.” Sterling glanced back at me with the oddest look in his eyes—guarded and unreadable. “But know that I can take a hint.”

  He turned back to whatever he was doing and I just stood there, unsure where to stand or what exactly I was doing there. Maybe I should leave the door open—maybe he would have preferred it that way. But I took a deep breath and pushed it closed behind me. Leaving the two of us alone. That tingling electric feeling in my limbs was back. For some perverse reason, I wanted it to continue.

  “We’ve got about ten minutes,” Sterling said. “Here.” He handed me his phone and adjusted the screen of his laptop, all business. Apparently I was the only one whose thoughts kept drifting back to what happened the last time we were in this room together.

  “The camera will send streaming video to my phone. I told Cole I had a project due and I’d be at the library all evening. Let’s hope he decides to stay here, but if not, you may have to run interference.”

  “Did you test this out?” I asked, turning the phone over in my hands. “What’s the range?”

  “Let’s find out.” He grabbed the phone and slipped out of the room into the hallway.

  I stood there for an instant, examining his desk. In the middle was a photo of a pretty brown-haired girl set in a tarnished silver frame, resting on top of a stack of papers covered in Sterling’s spidery scrawl. Last week’s calculus exam half-concealed a bank statement with a mind-boggling balance. I scanned the exam. Even though the work was a messy tumble of misshapen numbers, he was far from stupid. I both hated and admired that about him.

  I picked up the photo. There was a sweep of grassy lawn visible in the background and a blurry tree off in the distance.

  “My sister,” Sterling said, materializing behind me. “She’s the only member of my family who isn’t a complete asshole. Present company included.”

  “Actually, you’re not entirely unpleasant,” I said. “Except when you’re trying to be.”

  I turned to face him. It brought us nearly chest to chest. And I let it. I had to know who’d step back first—whether he also felt a little lost at sea.

  Of course it was Sterling who shifted, giving me far more personal space than I could ever need.

  “High praise, coming from you,” he said. The playful tone was back. He was watching me carefully, studying me, and suddenly I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the face—which I’m sure he noted. I felt raw and exposed and completely confused by the way my pulse hammered every time he said or did anything. My face felt warm, like I was blushing. No doubt he noted that, too.

  He turned his phone so I could see the screen, too. I had to lean my head in so close that my cheek brushed his shoulder. He stiffened, but this time he didn’t retreat. Why was that suddenly a small victory to be celebrated?

  There were no Rules to guide me now.

  He played back a video of me reading his math exam, then scowling and staring at the picture of his sister for an uncomfortably long time. The image zoomed in and shifted, sweeping up over my body in a slow, dramatic arc, the way his hands had slid right over me the other day. I flushed again to think he’d examined me every bit as closely as I’d been examining him.

  “I can manipulate the camera remotely.” He was watching me from the corner of his eye, no doubt noting the impact his little film was having on me. It was just a test. It didn’t mean anything.

  “I feel guilty spying on Cole,” I said to change the subject. “Maybe we just tell him what’s going on? That we need him to get Gilbert’s confession.”

  Sterling shook his head. “Like I said before, Cole isn’t up to that kind of performance. What I just told you about my sister? Well, it’s a problem.”

  I looked up at him, more curious than I cared to admit.

  “She’s too sweet. Trusts everyone. Assumes they’ve got the best of intentions, since she does. She’s just like Cole. I think that’s why I’m so dead set on helping him—at least it was that at first. She can’t take care of herself, either, especially when she gets sucked into my world. I have to look out for her.”

  “What happened? At your last school, I mean,” I said. “When we first met, I acted like I knew why you were expelled, but I didn’t. Not until Parker told me you lit someone’s room on fire and it had something to do with your sister.”

  “I see,” he replied. “I’ve got to say, the more I learn about you, the more I wondered about that comment. Because I’m guessing if you’d seen what happened, you’d have been the one to strike the match.” He shook his head. “Worst part was, I’d been coasting all year. Smooth sailing. Contrary to what everyone assumes, I do care about my future. College, all that. But family is family. Found out her ex-boyfriend was pushing her around. He had a bit of a temper and hit her hard enough to leave a mark. You know the rest. But I guarantee he’ll never hit a girl again. And if he does—well, I’m happy to arrange a repeat performance.”

  He met my gaze and held it steady. A firm and determined look settled over his sharp features, and I nodded. I understood. Sterling Lane had lit a guy’s room on fire for abusing his sister, and in his shoes, I would have done the same.

  I was staring again. That time it wasn’t as awkward, since he was doing it, too. “You and me, Harper, we’re tough,” he said, finally turning away. “It’s our job to look out for the little ones.”

  He was right. I hadn’t realized exactly how similar the two of us were until that moment.

  Sterling adjusted his camera so it had the broadest view possible. “Let’s go,” he said, moving toward the door. “We can watch from Parker’s room. It’s right next door.” His smile was dagger-sharp. “But you already know that.”

  “I’m not going in there.” Too many bizarre and unexpected things had happened to me in both that room and this one—I wasn’t prepared for an awkward situation with Parker and Sterling. What was with boys this spring, and why did they suddenly seem so acutely aware of my existence?

  “He’s not there.” Sterling’s voice almost sounded gentle. “Besides, I’ll protect you.”

  “That’s hardly reassuring.”

  “If you’d heard a word I’d just said, it would be.” The intensity in his voice made me shiver.

  “I can take care of myself, Sterling,” I said. “If you think back over everything we’ve been through, I think I’ve more than proven I can handle you or any other boy who steps out of lin
e.”

  “Touché,” Sterling said. “But after everything we’ve been through, I also don’t deserve to be lumped into that category. You might not need my help, but is it so horrible to know that if you ever need it, it’s yours? I’d never let someone hurt you.” His eyes searched mine before they cut away. “Parker is usually out until late. He won’t even know we’ve been there.” He glanced at his watch. “We don’t have time to debate this.”

  “Fine.” I followed him out into the hallway. He pulled something metal out of his pocket—definitely smaller than a key, but it popped the lock open just as easily.

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t see that,” I said.

  “But you were curious, weren’t you? About the tricks of my trade.”

  “Burglary? Not really. But I did wonder about the car. How you did it by yourself.”

  “Of course I didn’t do it by myself,” he said like I was an idiot. “But let’s just say it was worth every penny. A considerable number of pennies.”

  I started to reply, but he looked at me sharply, a finger pressed against those sarcastic lips. He strode into the room and flicked off the desk lamp. It was pretty much the last thing in the world I wanted—to be alone in a darkened bedroom with Sterling Lane. Behind a closed door. There was nothing separating us but lengthening shadows and the pile of mildewing boy laundry on the floor. No one to see or interrupt whatever might happen next.

  I did my best to banish the fluttering agitation in my chest. I took a deep breath and walked over to the window, always keeping out of the range of Sterling’s sizable wingspan. Cole was approaching across the quad—I’d know that bouncy stride anywhere.

  Sterling curled one hand around my elbow and pulled me away from the window. Instead of catching my balance right away, like I could have, I let myself fall back against him. I stayed there for a few heartbeats, pressed against his solid warmth.

  I should have moved, but I didn’t. Instead I turned, bringing us once again into dangerously close proximity—so close we might as well have been actually touching.