by Layla Hagen
James speaks after a few seconds. “I can’t believe my little sister is going out with someone. I’m happy for you, and also extremely freaked out.”
“You’re my brother. Of course you are.”
“What do you need?”
“The thing is,” I say, “he’s more...experienced, and I think he might want more soon. I’m not sure how soon is too soon, or how to handle this,” I finish lamely.
James is silent for so long; I fear he might not enlighten me at all. But he does. “You will feel when it’s right. I’m not talking about those times when you’re both hot and bothered. Sex always seems like a good idea right then. I’m talking about moments when you’re talking, or you’re not even next to each other, but you think about him. If you’re ready for more, you’ll know it. If he’s the right guy, he’ll understand.”
My shoulders slump in disappointment. “Yeah, that’s what all the magazines for teenagers say. But does it really work this way? Won’t he get bored or anything?”
“No, he won’t. Unless he’s a jerk and all he wants is sex. In that case, you’d better stay away from him.”
“Damon is nothing like that,” I assure James.
“Is he pressuring you?”
“Not at all. I just want to know...how these things work.”
“Listen, Dani, this isn’t an exact science. Just take your time, and enjoy each other. It’ll work out.”
“Okay.”
“Do you want ice cream?” he asks out of the blue.
“Err...I don’t believe I’ve ever answered that question with a no.”
“I can buy some and bring it home. We could eat it in the greenhouse—just you and me.”
“You don’t have to do this,” I say gently. “You’ll waste a lot of time with a trip here.”
“Nonsense. I’ll come by in about three hours with ice cream. We can talk about whatever you want.”
I love my brother to pieces. “Thank you, James.”
Chapter Fifteen: Dani
I’m giddy on my way to school the next day. When we arrive, Paul throws me an apologetic look as he parks the car. Usually, he drives away immediately after dropping me off.
"I’m sorry, Dani. I have orders to—”
"I know," I say, unable to help my grin. "I hope you brought a lot of newspapers to read, or you'll get bored out of your mind."
Paul looks dumbfounded at my cheerfulness. The reason for my nerve endings being on edge is inside the school. I couldn't care less if they confine me within it. Damon awaits me by his locker and I walk right into his arms, not caring about the stares we attract.
"I've missed you," he whispers in my ear, sending tendrils of heat down my spine, lighting up my already delicate nerves.
"I missed you, too," I confess. His fingers trace my cheek, down to my jaw. He gently pulls me to him. When our lips touch, I turn to mush in his arms. Everything around us fades, and there is nothing else except his warm lips and the sweet way in which they mold to mine. The fierce impulses it sends through me weaken my knees.
We don't stop until we hear a loud and forced cough. Principal Charleston is standing right in front of us. I blush furiously.
"This behavior is not acceptable," he says. I wish I could dig a hole in the floor and disappear into it.
Damon doesn't let go of my hand, not even under the principal's stern look. Mischief dances in Damon's green eyes, and I suddenly don't feel as ashamed. His kisses are worth a few words of reprimand.
We don’t talk during classes, and during the breaks, we busy ourselves with kisses. I save telling him about my parents for lunch. We eat in the cafeteria because the weather is too chilly to sit on the roof. Sitting on the same side of a corner table, we’re sheltered from people's view, but I can't ignore everyone's stares when we get our food. Some of them hold so much incredulity they are downright offending.
Hazel sits at the opposite end of the table, listening to music in her headphones. She frowns at her spaghetti. I know she feels like a third wheel, and I’m trying to find a way for her not to feel like that. We refrain from kissing in front of her, though I wish we could. There is an insatiable craving inside of me for him. It consumes me permanently, but roars louder and more demanding when he is nearby.
"My parents know about us and also that you’re a fighter," I tell him. "They don't know you spent the night at our house or that I went with you to a fight," I add quickly at his stricken expression.
"You had a fight with them?" he asks worriedly.
"Yes. And I...um...I think I handled that all right," I say proudly. My parents went back to ignoring me and each other after our talk, so it's not likely it had much of an impact on them, but I’m glad I told them everything I did. It was liberating.
"What happened? Tell me," Damon beckons.
"They forbid me to be with you. And our driver is now permanently following me."
"They've got someone watching you?" A vein pulses in his temple. "What the hell?" I grin at his indignation. I try to remember that, for ordinary people, this kind of behavior is outrageous. I grew up hearing about Dad having Mom, and then James, watched. I was never interesting enough to be watched until now. Maybe it's sick of me to think like this, but any attention is better than none at all. And this is the only kind of attention my father knows how to give. "Why aren't you more upset about this?"
I ponder explaining it to him, but I don't think he'll understand, so I just wave my hand. "We’re together at school every day. And if we want to do something outside of school...well...sneaking out is more fun."
I thought this might lighten up the mood, but it seems to have the opposite effect on him. His brow furrows, and he purses his lips.
"I'm a bad influence, Dani."
I nudge him playfully with my elbow. "I think I needed just that."
"We both do," Hazel adds, making us both jump. "Go ahead, be as bad an influence on her as you can. Maybe I'll catch some of it, too. It'd be a shame to graduate high school with the good girl stamp on our foreheads. Every girl worth her salt must break some rules. The best rules are broken with bad boys."
"Who shared that piece of wisdom with you?" Damon huffs, scrutinizing her.
"My mother," Hazel says.
I grin as Damon frowns in confusion. You have to know Hazel’s mom to fathom the mere idea that a mother could say this. The wild stories Hazel’s mom recounts from her youth are nothing short of legendary.
"On that note,” Hazel adds, “I'm leaving. Mom also says being a third wheel should be fined."
Damon grins. "I like your mom, Hazel."
"You would love her mom," I say as Hazel leaves.
Damon turns serious again. "How long is this tailing going to last?"
"Probably until I turn eighteen, which is one month after graduation."
"They'll just stop afterward?"
"No." A pit forms in my stomach as I realize I never told him of my plans to study in England. As a matter of fact, I haven't even thought about what that means for us. Oxford and Damon were in different worlds until recently. "But I'm going to Oxford to college. I'll be out of their reach."
"Oxford," Damon repeats. His voice doesn't hold the shock I expected. Quite the contrary. It even sounds optimistic as he says, "That's far away from here. I can come to England, if you want me to."
"Are you serious?"
"Of course I am. Dani, I've wanted to leave this damn place ever since I came here. For you, I'd stay here after graduation, but if we can both leave, that's perfect. I can find work anywhere."
"Fighting?"
"There is an audience for that kind of entertainment everywhere."
"Wouldn't you like to do something else?"
His excitement morphs into a sad smile within a split-second. "That's not good enough for you?"
"Is it good enough for you?" I bite my lip, realizing I sound like my parents. "You’re smart, Damon, and doing well at school, despite trying your best to do badly."
"School was always important to Mom."
"I bet she wanted you to attend college."
"She did. I promised her I would apply to college, but I never did. There wasn't even a community college near where we lived, and I didn't want to move away from her. If it's important to you, I can apply to college. You're the only person besides Mom who can motivate me for that."
"What would you like to do?" I ask.
"Something math-related."
"Said no one ever." I laugh. "You're a whiz, like my brother. You two would get along well."
"You think he'd like me?" Damon asks doubtfully.
I nod, though I'm not so sure. James is a tad overprotective.
After a pause, Damon asks, "What if your parents stop you from going to England?"
"They can't." I take a deep breath. "My grandfather set up a trust fund for me. I’ll receive it once I turn eighteen, and be free. Once that day arrives, it'll be just you and me."
***
Paul doesn't tire. He stays at school every day, keeping an eye on me. The first two weeks, he even sits in the cafeteria at lunch. The third week, he comes inside to pick up a sandwich, and then heads back outside. Still, we had no opportunity for a date. February morphed into March, and the only pseudo-dates we had were on the school premises.
"I like Paul," Damon says as we watch Paul exit the cafeteria.
"He's clearly on our side."
Hazel nods in agreement then goes back to reading her Biology textbook. Damon and I exchange glances. We've been dying to be on our own for days, but between Paul, Hazel, and the teachers, we don't get the chance.
"Honey, you have to come to my place tonight. My parents are gone." The three of us try to hide our grin as we peek at Anna and her new boyfriend. They are two tables away from us, but it’s impossible not to hear Anna's high-pitched voice. "What do you say, honey?" I cringe inwardly at the word honey. By the look of excitement on the guy’s face, he's game.
"If you ever call me ‘honey’, I will pretend I don't know you," Damon says, shaking his head.
"Glad we're on the same page. Same goes for ‘baby’." I take a sip of my soda.
"Of course I wouldn't call you that. You’re my precious."
I snort soda, just as Hazel bursts out laughing. Damon stares at us.
"See, that's why you have to watch Lord of the Rings,” I say. “You'd never call me my precious."
"Explain," he demands.
I look at Hazel for help; she's better at summarizing. "Well," she begins, "there was this Gollum guy..."
"Was he good-looking?" Damon asks. This brings another round of laughter.
"Of course that’s the only thing you'd be interested in." Hazel grins.
"Damon and Gollum. That's a fair fight." I roll my eyes just as he pulls me in an embrace. I catch a whiff of his aftershave, and a shot of adrenaline and warmth courses right through my body.
"Okay, Hazel, so this trio thing is fun, but I'd like some time alone with my girl," Damon says.
My jaw drops, but Hazel continues to grin. "I'll make myself invisible right away." Packing her books, she slings her backpack over her shoulder, leaving the table. As she passes Anna's table, a knot of unease tightens in my chest. I’m jealous of Anna and her freedom. I wish I could invite Damon over whenever I want to. Surely he must expect it.
Chapter Sixteen: Damon
I've done my fair share of sneaking around in my seventeen years, but trying to be alone with Dani is a challenge. I need her, and I want to be with her as much as possible. I don't know how long our time together will last. George has been quiet lately, and that can't be a good sign.
One day, between classes, we sneak inside an empty classroom. The second we're inside, I flatten her against the wall, putting one of my hands at the back of her neck, the other one encircling her waist as my tongue plunges inside her mouth. I pull back only when we're both breathless.
"Damon," she murmurs as I suckle down her collarbone, my hands roaming on her hips. I can barely refrain myself from slipping them under her shirt to feel her sweet skin.
"What are you doing to me?" I hear footsteps in the distance, the sound bringing me back to reality.
"We should go," Dani says.
"We should," I agree, "but I don't want us to go." I lean into her again. My need to taste her grows urgent, so I tug with my teeth at her lower lip then outline her lips with the tip of my tongue. The light brush completely ravages both of us. She starts shuddering in my arms, her hips bucking forward.
"I didn't know this would feel...like this. The more I get, the more I want." She looks at me for guidance, a sign that this is how it's supposed to be.
"Same for me." I claim her mouth with ferocity, my nails digging into her waist. "Dani, fuck, we have to stop."
"That's what I've been saying." She chuckles, but I don't think she actually expected me to stop, because a disappointed surprise grips her when I back away.
We wait a few seconds, listening to any sound that there's anyone outside the classroom. It's dead silent. The break ended about five minutes ago. Confident that everyone must be in class, we step outside. We almost bump into Mr. Bowman, deep lines denting his forehead, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" he asks in an irritated tone.
I don't miss a beat. "Ah, we do, the same place as you: your boring-ass class. This is more fun. I think you agree since you'd rather spy on us than teach. When did voyeurism become an approved hobby for a teacher? If you're hoping to improve your skills, I'd love to give you tips sometime. Bring your notepad; I'm sure you'll need to take copious notes."
Chapter Seventeen: Dani
"I don't get the logic. We're being given detention because we've been busted kissing, but the punishment is putting us together in an empty room? Which genius came up with that?" Damon asks.
We got detention after our stunt yesterday, of course. When I got home, my parents lectured me for an hour. My father was a bit too calm; I'm afraid he's plotting something. He has instructed Paul to trail behind me during every single break and lunch. I have this horrible sense of foreboding that more is to come. At any rate, this is the first I've been alone with Damon today. We're in one of the school's study room. It has three long rows of tables and one leather couch, on which we're both sprawled lazily.
"The teacher's room is next door, Damon. A teacher passes by every ten minutes, and that's a glass window. They can see what's going on inside."
"And that would stop us because...?"
"We don't want to get into even more trouble?" I suggest, unable to contain the sarcasm.
"I'd say we're being rewarded. If it weren't for this detention, I wouldn't get to be alone with you at all today," he says. My heart constricts and I fidget in my spot uncomfortably. How long before Damon realizes I'm too much trouble and moves on? There is no shortage of girls who'd love to fall into his lap. They'd have no problems meeting with him after school, going on dates, or even spending the night with him.
"Let's not get into more trouble," I say. I don't know how to explain my suspicion that my father is preparing a nasty surprise for us without appearing paranoid or scaring him off. At that precise moment, the music teacher glances into the room, her eyes lingering on us for a few seconds.
I sigh. "I can use this time to prepare my speech for Rhetoric & Public Speaking class."
"That's not until Thursday," Damon points out.
"Yeah, I know, but I'm a mess when I have to speak in front of the class. I have to rehearse the speech like tens of times, so I don't look like a complete idiot."
Damon scans me. "It's true; you tend to lose yourself a bit when you have to speak in front of the class."
"You noticed, huh?"
"Kind of hard to miss it. What makes you so nervous?"
"I don't know. I'm self-conscious that I'll say something stupid or that my body language is awkward, and everyone will laugh at me."
"Ah,
this is where not giving a damn about what everyone else thinks about you comes in handy." He smirks, clearly referring to himself. "Why don't you practice in front of me?"
My eyes widen at the horrifying proposal, and I try to put him in the spotlight again. "I've seen you; you're good at it, no need to brag. You can pull an entire speech out of your ass, can't you? You're just like James. Parker tells me he would show up to class in high school without homework or any idea what was going on, but he was so overconfident the teachers believed he knew the lesson backward."
"Who's Parker?"
"My cousin. He and James went to school together. Parker lives in—”
Damon holds up a hand with a tsk-tsk. "You're trying to distract me from the fact that I asked you to rehearse in front of me."
"That's not gonna happen, Damon. I'll read it until I memorize it while we're here, and when I'm home, I’ll rehearse it in front of the mirror."
"You're not going to get over your fear of public speaking if you only practice alone."
"Well, that's my way of confronting my fear."
"That's running away from it, not confronting it," he says.
I ponder his words. In the recesses of my mind, I realize he's right, but I'm still not about to make a fool of myself in front of him.
"You're going to rehearse this now. Go over there and start talking." He watches me with a determined glare.
"Well, you're bossy."
"Oh, you have no idea how bossy I can be." There’s a sizzling energy in his voice that sends ripples through me. "Come on."
I pick up the tablet with my essay and go to the front of the room. My palms clam with sweat the second I start reading from my tablet, and I pull at the silver bracelet on my left wrist. I keep my gaze on the tablet, only raising it occasionally to eye the door and even the window, wondering if I can make an escape.
I don't look at Damon at all until he interrupts me, saying, "You can't ignore the audience, Dani. I know you already know that speech by heart; you don't have to glue your eyes to your tablet. Look at me."