by Jordan Ford
I could have pulled an all-nighter. It would have been awesome to see the sunrise from the tower, but the early morning air was damn freezing and a hot shower was calling.
We collected our empty soda cans and reluctantly headed for our cars.
Neither of us will ever admit this, but just sitting there shooting the breeze is one of our favorite things to do.
Shit, that makes us sound like girly BFFs.
But I needed someone to talk to, and although I don’t trust Luke with all my secrets, I didn’t mind letting him in on my Chloe crisis.
After he finished hassling me about my hots for Maddie, he did make me admit that I asked Chloe out just to piss off her older sister, and then he made me feel better about my choice.
“Don’t worry about it, man. What’s done is done. Take Chloe. Have a good time. It’s not like you’re asking her to be your girlfriend or anything. Dance. Make out. Take her home. No harm, no foul, you know?” He nudged me in the side. “Maybe don’t sleep with her.” His shoulder hitched and I elbowed him with a frown.
He snickered. “I’m just saying. Her dad is one scary-ass looking dude. You don’t want to risk taking her V-card and pissing that beast off.”
“You can shut up now,” I grumbled and shoved him again.
He laughed at me, but he had a good point.
I haven’t promised Chloe anything more than a date to the dance. I’ll keep my hands to myself and be the perfect gentleman.
She’s sweet. She’ll understand that.
It’ll be fine.
Strolling into school, I raise my eyebrows to acknowledge a few of the girls saying hello to me. I keep this up as I’m either waved at or spoken to by half the student body. I’m used to it. People like me, they want to think they have a chance at being my friend, so I hand out on a few smirks and smiles to keep up the illusion.
They’ll never make it. I don’t let too many get close.
Rounding the corner with a slight bounce in my step, I’m feeling pretty good…until someone grabs my arm and hauls me into Mr. Johnson’s empty classroom.
“What the…” My words peter out as I come to a stop and find Maddie standing in front of me.
Wow. She’s stronger than she looks.
My forehead wrinkles as I gaze down at her, but I smooth out my expression and paste on a cocky grin.
“You know, you don’t have to pull me into an empty classroom if you want a little privacy. I know some great spots in the library and behind the gym where we can—”
“Don’t even.” She shuts me up. “I’m not after privacy so we can do something nasty, I just want to talk for a second. And I don’t want an audience.”
“Why not?” I perch my butt on the edge of a desk and watch her pace away from me.
She’s in skinny jeans and a fitted purple sweater today. I can see the curve of her ass just below the edge of her sweater and I can’t help admiring the shape of it.
She turns back around and pins me with a serious frown. “Why’d you ask Chloe to the dance?”
My mouth goes dry under her scrutiny but I manage to clear my throat and murmur, “Because I want to take her.”
“Because you like her?”
“Sure.” I shrug but have to look away. I set my gaze on the cluttered wall at the back of the room—movie posters, book covers, quotes from famous writers and poets, students’ work, photos. Everything is overlapping each other, cutting off the quotes and images so it’s like this cacophony of letters and color. Mr. Johnson loves to pin stuff up but has an aversion to taking anything down.
Maddie’s sharp huff draws my eyes back to her. Her scowl is sharp yet beautiful, making her cheeks tinge red. “Stay away from her. Tell her you can’t take her anymore. I don’t want you guys going together.”
“Why?” I snicker.
“Because she’s sweet and impressionable. She’ll fall for you in a heartbeat when all you’re looking for is a good time. Or to prove a point. Or whatever the hell you’re trying to do!” Her hands dance in the air while she’s talking. “She doesn’t need some fake asshole. She deserves a guy who’s going to treat her like a queen.”
“And you don’t think I can do that?” I smirk.
“Don’t do the smirk right now. It is so irritating.” She points her finger right at me, which only makes my smile grow.
Rising from the table, I slowly step towards her, crowding her out and putting on an extra burst of Carter charm. “Admit it, you like my smirk.”
What the hell are you doing? Are you flirting? You don’t like this girl, remember?
My shouting brain is ignored as I inch just a little closer and find myself staring at her lips. I like the shape of her mouth. I want to know what it’d feel like pressed against mine.
“No, actually, I find your smirk arrogant and very off-putting.” To my surprise, she doesn’t back down. She doesn’t inch away or turn her head to the side. She just stands a little taller, making her lips that much closer to mine. It’s obvious she doesn’t like me this close but she’s never going to admit that.
Standing her ground, she lifts her chin and meets my smile head on.
Damn, she is so gorgeous.
Those eyes.
That fire.
It’s hard not to reach forward and skim my fingers down her soft cheek, thread them behind her neck so I can pull her towards me. But I’ve got to stay strong right now. I’m not going to have her boss me around, even if I do get a kick out of it. The best way to disarm this situation is to make her squirm.
It’s not flirting, it’s just getting the upper hand.
That’s what I tell myself as I shuffle forward another inch and get so close to her face I can feel her quivering breath on my chin. “Admit it,” I whisper. “You’re attracted to me. You think I’m hot.”
“I do not think you’re—” She swallows. “Hot.”
I grin. “Oh yeah you do. You like me.”
“No!” She shoves me away, once again surprising me by her strength.
“Come on, admit it.” I spread my arms wide.
“No!” she snaps and then proceeds to kill me with rhetoric that hurts more than a punch to the balls. “Why would I ever like you? You have no personality! You think you’re so amazing with your cool blue eyes and cut body, but can either of those things make me laugh or inspire me? Face it, you’re nothing more than a pretty boy with hollow insides. I’m not interested in dating cardboard. I want someone I can actually have a conversation with.”
Her spiky words hit me right between the eyes.
I want to bite back with something smooth, witty—hell, I’ll even take sarcastic—but I’ve got nothing.
People think the sun shines out my ass.
Girls love me.
Guys want to be me.
And this little hottie is standing there putting me in my place like no one has ever dared to do before.
Stepping into my space, she jabs me in the chest with her finger. “Chloe is too kind and beautiful for someone like you. Let her down gently, and then stay the hell away from her.”
She stalks out and all I can do is stare at the cluttered wall in the back of the room. One of Shakespeare’s eyes stares at me from behind the Hunger Games cover image.
For some weird reason, my heart is thundering. It’s pulsing in my ears, drowning out the hub of activity in the hallway outside the classroom.
Making a fist, I smash the top of the desk. Pain radiates through my knuckles and up my arm. I wince and curse myself for doing something so stupid.
Snatching my bag off the floor, I throw it over my shoulder and storm out of the room.
I’m instantly met with friendly smiles and one sultry “Hey, Holden” from a brunette cutie in knee-high boots and skintight jeans.
“Hey,” I croak, turning left and walking the opposite direction.
I’m not in the mood to catch up with the guys outside Miss Kettle’s room today. We usually meet before homeroom and hang o
ut for a while, but right now, I just want to be on my own.
I head to the library, finding a space in the back corner and leaning against the wall behind the ancient encyclopedias.
Maddie’s words shouldn’t be riling me so bad. Part of me wants to be pissed at her, but a louder part—a more depressing part—is shouting at me that she’s right.
I act like a shallow asshole. I’m a cardboard cutout at this school, because I don’t want people to know who I really am.
But dammit, I have my reasons! And they’re valid.
Why should I care what Maddie thinks?
I don’t.
Because I don’t like her!
At least I don’t want to like her.
Closing my eyes with a huff, I scrub a hand down my face.
“Get it together, man,” I mumble. “She’s just a chick.”
I’m not going to let her get into my head. Who gives a shit what she thinks of me? I’m taking her sister to that dance and Maddie Barlow can stick it.
I’m not wasting one more ounce of energy on that girl!
15
Armitage High is Full of Them
MADDIE
My insides have been stormy ever since my argument with Holden a few days ago. My stomach pitches every time I see him.
It’s so stupid.
I should feel triumphant. I put him in his place, told it to him straight.
But all I can obsess about is how damn close he got to me. That smirk of his is so freaking irritating. So why’d I want to taste it? Why the hell did I want to fist his shirt and haul him in for a hot kiss?
I’ve never had a smoking-hot kiss before. Not that I haven’t wanted one, but Patrick was just too shy. We were a couple, sure, but we’d only peck each other on the lips when we said goodbye and we never really put ourselves in situations where we could get hot and heavy in a make-out session. We weren’t a “lose yourself in each other” kind of couple.
But man, I could lose myself in Holden.
The thought sends fireworks shooting through my system.
Crap, I seriously have to stop thinking about the guy.
He hasn’t looked at me since I stalked out of Mr. Johnson’s classroom. That’s a good thing. I should be happy. But I’m fighting off this weird kind of disappointment and torturing myself by paying even closer attention to him than I ever have.
I’m such an idiot.
Why am I doing this to myself?
I do not like Holden Carter. Yes, he’s attractive, but that’s it.
I refuse to turn into one of those swoony girls who’s only interested in a guy’s hotness. Give me brains and conversation any day.
My forehead wrinkles as I weave my way to the cafeteria, thinking about Holden in class this morning. He never raises his hand or volunteers an answer, but when Miss Kettle called on him today, his answer totally gave away the fact that he’s actually read the book we’re studying. Not only that, he understood it. I couldn’t keep my lips together as he coolly rattled off his opinion, trying to act all aloof when anyone with half a brain can see that he’s switched on.
Why does he do that?
Why does he act like he doesn’t care when he obviously does?
Oh, and in Stats yesterday when Mr. Hope had given up trying to explain to Luke how Central Limit Theorem is applied, Holden leaned over and started scrawling on the guy’s notebook. At first I thought he was writing something insulting about our teacher, but after another couple of glances, I worked out that he was actually tutoring Luke—quietly, subtly, helping his friend out.
It confuses me so much.
I don’t get Holden Carter, and I hate that I’m spending so much time thinking about him.
It’d just be easier if I could define him, but I can’t.
He’s a puzzle I want to solve, and I don’t get why.
I shouldn’t be wasting brainpower on him.
My only goal should be to get the guy away from my sister, but he’s yet to let her down easy. It’s been three days since I bawled him out in Mr. Johnson’s room. Three days, and Chloe still thinks she’s going to homecoming with the hottest guy in school.
I need to talk to him again, but I’m afraid to get that close. What if my body overpowers my intelligence and I end up doing something stupid like kissing him or something?
So not worth the risk.
I line up and grab my tray of food before heading to the table my sisters and I have kind of made our own. I don’t know how it happened; we just keep going back to the same spot. It’s a nice chance for us to catch up during the day. Max and I only have one class together, so it’s cool to see her.
Chloe and Rahn are already at the table with a couple of Rahn’s friends whose names I can never remember. Probably because they never actually talk. They sit and interact silently with their phones. Unlike my sister, who is going on about Holden.
I roll my eyes behind her back. Ugh! He’s impossible to get away from.
“I have to ask him what he’s going to wear. We want to match, right?”
Rahn pops a cherry tomato in her mouth. “I wouldn’t stress too much. We don’t go overly formal to these things, but you definitely want a nice dress. The guys at this school usually wear nice pants and a tie. They might borrow a formal jacket from their dad or older brother, but that’s pretty rare.”
“Okay.” Chloe bobs her head, obviously a little surprised. Back in Columbus any school dance turned into a fashion show, with weeks of preparation in order to look your hottest. Girls would get their hair styled in the salons, their nails done. It was basically a full day affair.
I could never really be bothered with it, but Patrick and I went to junior prom last year and I have to admit that it was kind of fun dressing up and looking that beautiful for an evening. Max even went with one of her buddies, Brett. She dressed up with me…and hated every second of it, until she got dancing. Then she forgot about everything but the music.
Chloe’s the one who loves dressing up the most. We convinced Brett’s cousin to take her and the six of us had a blast.
This dance is going to be different, though.
This time Chloe’s dressing up for Holden Freaking Carter.
I plunk down at the table and force a smile.
“Hey, Maddie.” Rahn grins at me. “You okay? You’re looking tired.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. I didn’t realize my restless sleeps were actually showing.
“Everything okay?” Chloe reaches for my hand, giving it a rub.
“I’m great.” I force out a laugh. “I mean, I’m tired, sure. Changing cities is hard and you know, Mom’s super grumpy and Dad’s…” I don’t know why I’m bringing my parents into this. They’re not why I’m tired.
Okay, maybe they are a little.
Mom is super grumpy. She’s used to working full time. For the first time since I was two, she’s a stay-at-home mom, and it’s driving her nuts. It doesn’t help that Dad is working overtime…like all the time.
“Dad’s big-time stressed.” Chloe sighs and turns to Rahn. “Do you know much about the Mancini family?”
“Only what I’ve told you, really.” Rahn shrugs and then checks with her friends. They both nod and go back to staring at their phone screens. I don’t know what they’re playing, but it’s got them hooked. “Anyone with any sense knows to stay away from them. The entire family seems to breed trouble.” Her lips dip into a sad frown. “Apparently the town used to be really beautiful and thriving before they arrived.”
“Are they drug dealers or something?” I play with my salad, scanning the cafeteria for Max. She’s usually here by now.
Rahn shrugs. “It’s never been proven. And although there are constant rumors circulating, the only person at this school who’s actually tried to sell me drugs is Roman Sanchez.”
I look over her shoulder, searching for Velocity, but they’re not around today.
Rahn leans forward to whisper, “It was about a year ago. H
e was all charming and sweet. I thought he actually liked me until he pulled out a little bag of white pills and tried to shove it in my pocket. Honestly.” She rolls her eyes.
“What’d you do?” Chloe’s eyes round.
“I just pushed him away and told him to get lost. To be honest, I felt kind of sorry for him.”
“Why?” I frown.
Rahn shrugs and gives me a sad smile. “He just looked like he didn’t want to be doing it. Like he felt bad for even trying. Like he was maybe a little desperate. I don’t know.” Her bangs flicker as she shakes her head. “I’ve always wondered if someone was forcing him to deal, or if he’s just trying to make ends meet or something. I know he used to live on the northwest side of town, which is a major no-go area now. The Mancinis own that part of town. Seriously, never go there. It’s not worth the risk, unless of course you’re doing the soup kitchen with me, but that’s right on the border and kind of in the safe zone.” Her pretty lips pucker with a frown. “It makes me sad. My grandma told me that Armitage used to be this undiscovered diamond of California, and then the Mancinis arrived. Thanks to some brutality tactics and dodgy dealings, they basically control the northwest of Armitage.”
“I think that’s where Dad’s spending most of his energy.” Chloe frowns.
“Well, no wonder he’s coming home late and exhausted.”
“He’s trying to clean up this town.”
“Has he made any arrests yet?”
Chloe shrugs. “He doesn’t talk about work when he gets home.”
Rahn’s petite nose wrinkles. “Most cops have given up on the west side.”
“My dad won’t.” I pick a carrot stick off my tray and nibble the end.
“I’m not trying to be mean or anything, but the Mancinis are a family of untamed losers, dropouts, and deadbeats. How do you clean up something that wants to stay dirty?”