Xavier is right behind me and before I can catch my breath, he wraps his arms around me and lifts me in a bear hug. I can’t stop the laughter that bubbles up. “You did it!” he shouts. He gives me another squeeze before setting me back on the ground. His smile is so pure it’s like all the stuff he told me earlier has been erased from his mind. I’m not used to living for the moment—I’m always thinking about what other people think or how I look or what they think about how I look—and never just let go.
Maybe he can teach me that, too.
But that will have to wait. Right now he’s unstrapping his back foot and watching me. I’d love to sneak in another kiss before we get on the lift, but I get the feeling he’s holding out until I tell him what he wants to hear. And aside from faking cramps and running inside, there’s no getting out of this.
He rests his hand on my lower back while we wait our turn, and once we’re in the air, he presses his knee against mine. “I don’t know what it is that you’re so afraid to tell me, but you can trust me.” He touches my hand. “Like I trusted you.”
I lean my head forward but my hair is tucked in my helmet and doesn’t shield my face like I want it to. He can’t be expecting a full list of every awful thing I’ve ever done, so maybe the highlights will be enough. “I’m not really sure where to start.”
“How about the shoplifting?”
“When I got busted or the first time I stole something?”
He shifts on the narrow seat so his body is facing me. “You’ve been holding back.”
“It all seems so stupid after what you told me.”
“It’s not. And quit stalling.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. “The first time I took something it was an accident. I’d tried on this bracelet I had no intention of buying, and didn’t realize I was still wearing it until I got home.”
“You didn’t return it?”
“Would you have?”
He hesitates. “This isn’t my story.”
So that’s a yes. Let me just dig my hole even deeper. “I guess I was embarrassed. My family… we’re not exactly hurting for money and I was afraid the store would make a big deal out of it. The next time I was in there I bought a couple things to make up for it.”
His jaw twitches and I want to jump off the chairlift. It’s only a twenty-foot drop. If I land on my board just right I could glide away and never see this look on his face again. But I promised him the truth and I’ll give it to him. At least a portion of it.
“I’m not really sure how it snowballed, but I started taking things whenever I was out. Never stuff I’d wear—which I realize is beyond stupid—but I kept telling myself that if it wasn’t benefitting me, it wasn’t really that bad.” I meet his gaze then quickly look away, my cheeks burning. “The first time I got caught, I thought the world had ended. I managed to talk my way out of it with an apology and offering to buy the necklace plus a bunch of other stuff. That worked once more, but, as they say, the third time was the charm.”
“They pressed charges?”
“Oh, yes. There was no getting out of that one. I spent a couple hours in jail before my dad bailed me out, and I kind of wished I could stay there.” For a second I’m back on the Swiss slopes, but instead of Pierre, Xavier is next to me. And instead of skiing, I’m snowboarding. I wonder what Dad would think of that.
“And that’s how you ended up on the Chain Gang.”
I nod. “Trash duty was not my first choice, but I have to say, it’s been better than I expected.” I wink at him. “Except for the whole picking up trash part.”
He smiles, and guilt hammers away at me. Yeah, I told him about my arrest, but he shared so much more. After a minute, he leans into me so our shoulders are touching. “I don’t feel like you’re telling me the whole story.”
I close my eyes. What does it say about me that I’m okay sharing about breaking the law and getting arrested, but not the details of how I’ve lived my life?
“Brianna, it’s not gonna make me like you any less.”
“You say that now.”
“Try me.”
Our eyes meet, then I drop my gaze to the snow below. A path cuts through the deep powder—two pairs of skis and a couple snowboards. It’d be so easy to run away. “I’m not, how shall I put this, the nicest person in the world.” I peek at him out of the corner of my eye. His head is facing forward but he’s watching me like he’s afraid any sudden movements might spook me. “Status has always been important in my family. My parents belong to all the right clubs, drive the right cars, know the right people. I just assumed that when I got to middle school, I’d be the most popular girl in school.”
“Nothing wrong with having a goal.”
I can’t tell if he’s teasing. “It was more than just a goal. It became my mission. I recruited two other girls as my best friends—Mikayla and Kenzie—and we terrorized our way to popularity. We threw the best parties, wore the best clothes, and hung out with the right boys.” I cringe at that last part. He may not know my concerns about how he’d never fit into my world, but he’ll figure it out soon enough. The question will be whether he still thinks I’m worth seeing when he knows the truth.
“Anyone who got in our way regretted it. By the time high school started, I was the queen of the school.”
“I didn’t realize I was with royalty.” His voice is low, like he’s uncertain he should say anything.
I face him. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. It started falling apart last spring when a new girl moved to our school. I invited her into our group but she wanted nothing to do with me, then she stole my best friend and let’s just say I didn’t react the best. Remember how I said I was suspended for fighting?”
His eyebrow quirks.
“Junior year was supposed to be the best year yet, but Kenzie ousted me as the head of our group. Then I lost Homecoming Queen, and my parents.” I shake my head. “Getting busted was just the icing on the cake.”
He runs his hands over the guard rail. “It sounds like you’ve had a pretty shitty year.”
“Yeah, but I feel like I deserve it.”
“Because you were popular?”
Past tense. “It’s more than that. I’ve been really mean to people.” Slow down Bri. No need to convince him what a bitch you are. I choose to skip over my history with Blake. “Terrible things fly out of my mouth. You saw what happened with that guy Jordan. It’s like lashing out at people is the only way I know how to react when I feel cornered or upset.”
“That doesn’t make you a bad person.”
“It doesn’t make me a good one.”
“So stealing was like an outlet for you. A way to burn off energy.”
“Something like that.” Does he hate me already? From what he’s told me, the only reason he’d steal is for survival, not to satiate some rich-girl urge for excitement. “I got a rush leaving the store knowing I’d pulled one over on someone.”
“Have you—” he pauses.
“What?”
“Have you stolen anything since you were arrested?”
“It’s never even crossed my mind. Of course, my dad announced that he was leaving us that same day and now we have to sell the house, plus I was grounded, so aside from boarding, I haven’t really been out.”
He gives me a sly look. “Do I need to keep an eye on you in the pro shop?”
I swat his arm. “Funny.”
He holds up his hands and shrugs. “I’m not sure what level of criminal I’m dealing with here. If it’s just for the rush, who knows what you’ll do to get it.”
My mind leaps from shoplifting to other, more exciting ways to feel that overwhelming sense of toeing the line between being in control and completely losing it. “I have a couple ideas.” Lucky for me we’re reaching the top of the chairlift, ending my confessional.
He raises the guardrail. “Do any of them involve snowboarding?”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “A few.”
He mutters something in Spanish and my pulse races. “You got this on your own?” he asks. The ramp is ten feet away and it’s time to shift back into trying-not-to-kill-myself mode.
“We’ll find out.” My board touches the snow and I stand, feeling unsteady. It’s like telling him my secrets zapped my energy. I follow him to a clear area and drop to my butt to strap into my board, when he leans over and kisses my cheek.
“Thanks for telling me your secrets.”
I thrill at his words, at his trust, but deep down I know there’s so much more I hope he never finds out. “It feels stupid compared to what you went through.”
“I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. At least with you, no one got hurt.”
Not physically.
My smile is tight. “You ready?”
He takes off first, cutting across the snow on his front edge, looking so natural that I can’t imagine him anywhere else. I try to copy his movements, pushing my balance forward so I’m on my front edge, but I lean too far and slam face-first into the snow.
“Shit!” I scream into the snow, not caring who can hear me. Snow’s packed along the inside edge of my helmet and when I push up onto my knees, it falls inside my jacket. “Ugh!” I shout again. I fling my goggles to the ground and yank off my helmet, then brush snow off my face. Snow is now melting against my chest, so I unzip my jacket and shake out my sweater, but it’s already wet.
Laughter behind me makes me pause.
“Listen, I’m not in the mood right now,” I growl, and immediately regret it. He doesn’t deserve to meet Old Brianna.
Xavier grabs my goggles and nods at my helmet, then plops down next to me and shoots me a mischievous grin. “What happened here?”
“Face-plant.”
He scoots closer and touches my cheek with his glove. “Looks like it hurt.”
It’s a good thing I have abnormally strong control over my facial features because my insides are melting. “A little.”
He lifts his feet so his board is resting on mine, trapping me, and our legs are touching. But instead of wanting to run, I want to pull him even closer. He slips his hand behind my neck and I fall into him. His arms wrap around me, holding me against his chest while his mouth covers mine. I push his goggles off his face and brush my lips over his impossibly dark lashes.
“Girls would kill for these,” I say.
He snorts. “I’m sorry?”
“Your eyelashes. They’re insane.”
He flutters his lashes, his laughter rumbling beneath me. “Benefits of my fine Mexican heritage.”
“You’re Mexican?” It sounds stupid as soon as I say it.
“What did you think I was?”
I plant my hands on either side of his head and look him directly in the eye. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I guessed you were Hispanic since you obviously speak Spanish.”
“My parents came over when they were our age. Lily and I are both Americans, just like you.” His smile fades as he stares back at me, and suddenly our proximity feels invasive.
I roll to one side, but his board is still pinning mine and I end up twisting my knee. Pain shoots through my leg but I don’t react. “I didn’t mean anything like that.”
He lifts his board so I can move and I shift so I’m sitting next to him.
“I hope you don’t think that matters to me.”
He looks anywhere but at me—his board, his lap, the trees around us—and takes a deep breath. The silence between us becomes an ocean of doubt. I’ve never had a filter and I’ve never cared, but the one time I honestly didn’t intend anything hurtful, I’ve somehow upset him.
“Xavier, please look at me.”
He does, and my heart pounds. “Sometimes I think that’s all people see when they look at me. My mom tells me to be proud of who I am, but then guys like those douches on the Chain Gang assume shit about me because of what I look like and I guess I have a hard time remembering that not everyone is like that.”
“Well, I’m not.” Never mind that I totally judged him on his appearance the first time I saw him—but it wasn’t because of his race. His tattoos and piercings, sure, but those are things he chooses to project to the world. Not the color of his skin. “So,” I say, running a gloved finger over his chest. “Are we gonna board, or what?”
A smile spreads over his face and fills me with lightness. “I want to take you out, like on a real date.”
I press my hand flat against his chest, relieved I’ve passed whatever test he put me through. “Oh, yeah?”
He nods, and gives me a quick kiss. “Yeah.”
“I’d like that.” He kisses me again, but I pull away before it can get too heated. “I figure since I’ve got this board strapped to my feet, I may as well use it.” I roll away and pop to my feet like I know what I’m doing, then we spend the next several hours working on my technique.
By the time we turn in my equipment my legs are shaking and my butt is sore, but I’m happy. I’m actually happy. When Xavier kisses me at my car, my legs almost buckle beneath me. It’s the first time we’ve kissed without a helmet or goggles or gloves and the feel of his skin under my fingers is intoxicating. My knuckles graze the tiny hoops in each ear, then trail down his neck to the tattoo that peeks from the collar of his shirt. I break the kiss to brush my lips over his throat, ending at the black ink. I’ve never kissed a boy with tattoos—at least not like this—and I want to see more. I tug at the soft material, exposing his collarbone and an intricate design that spreads over his chest. Heat flares in my belly as he dips his head to capture my lips with his once again.
Too soon he pulls away, tucking his cheek against mine. “How’s Friday?” he asks, his breath warm on my ear.
“Too far away.” My eyes are closed but I feel his smile against my cheek.
“There’s still the Chain Gang.”
I look up at him and flutter my eyelashes. “I’m the luckiest girl in the whole wide world.”
This time he laughs, and he tickles under my arm, making me squeal. “I’ll talk to you soon, querida.” He kisses my cheek, next to my eye, then my forehead. “Text me when you get home, okay?”
My heart’s pounding. “Okay.” For as much as I’ve always prided myself on getting whatever I want, I’ve never had a boy ask me that. Maybe they assumed I could take care of myself and would get home safely, or maybe they didn’t care, but he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in his world. I kiss him once more, get in my car, and shut the door. He presses his hand against the window, then steps back so I can leave.
Driving home, I feel like I’m floating above the car, lost in the memory of his kisses and the way he looked at me when I left. Is this what it’s like to have someone trust you? Because while I’ve confided in friends before, it was always in the back of my mind that they could use what I’ve told them against me. But I don’t get that feeling with Xavier. He’s as loyal as they come and I believe everything he says—and he’s trusting that I’m being honest with him, too.
And I’m terrified that I’m going to destroy that trust.
I may not be able to change what I’ve done in the past, but I can try to fix it. Or make amends. Or something. Mike will eventually come around—at least I’m pretty sure she doesn’t hate me—but Blake and Cally will be more challenging. For good reason. Cally got my full wrath not long after she moved here and Blake… well, Blake has every reason to despise me. They may not be willing to give me a chance, but I have to try.
And it’s not just because I’m scared of what they’ll say to Xavier. I really am tired of everyone hating me. I used to think having control over people gave me power, but really, they’re the ones with the power. They’re living their lives and the only time they think of me is when we cross paths at school. I’m not sure how I screwed this up so badly, but I’m ready for a change.
I get my first chance sooner than I expect. Cally and Blake are cuddling and being nauseatingly adorable at his lock
er before Homeroom, but instead of ignoring them or rolling my eyes like I normally would, I smile. And the word “hey” somehow comes out of my mouth.
They pause mid-giggle, mouths open, and stare at me.
“Are you lost?” Cally asks, her tone sharp.
“Or high?” Blake asks.
I shrug. “Just saying hello.” They keep staring, and I take a step forward before I lose my nerve. “Hey, I was hoping I could—”
“Stroke your ego by insulting us?” Blake’s normally relaxed face hardens and his blue eyes pierce through me. “Hard pass.”
My heart races. Is this how I make people feel? “Never mind,” I whisper before melting into the sea of bodies heading to class. The faces around me blur and I force a deep breath. Years of damage won’t be undone that easily, but I have to start somewhere.
In History I smile at Mike, but Kenzie can bite me. There’s no way in hell I’m being nice to her. But I don’t need to worry because she’s so wrapped up in whatever New Snow Bunny business she’s manufacturing that she barely gives me a dirty look. Part of me is curious about the hot pink notebook she’s scribbling in—it’s definitely not History notes—but I refuse to give her any more of my attention.
When the bell rings, Mike waits at the door, then falls in step with me to Ethics. “How are things?” she asks. “With your parents. And…” she trails off.
I haven’t told anyone I’m doing community service so she shouldn’t know, but maybe word has gotten out. “Mom listed the house last week and I’ve barely talked to my dad. So aside from the fact that he’s no longer sleeping under the same roof, things with him are about the same as usual.” It’s the most I’ve said about them splitting up and it feels good to get it off my chest. But I check myself before saying too much. I trust Mike not to gossip about me—she never told anyone when she caught me crying in the hall earlier this year—but we’re so far past confiding in each other that I’m not sure we’ll ever find our way back.
But it’d be nice to tell someone about Xavier and how nervous I am that all the nasty things I’ve done will ruin things between us.
The Edge Rules (The Rules Series Book 3) Page 14