by Shen, L. J.
“Do you hear something, Knight?” Vaughn turned to me, frowning. “I hear buzzing. Like a fly, or a cockroach.”
“A cockroach doesn’t buzz,” Lenny noted. “Learn your insects, Spencer. You’re about sixteen years behind on your material. Go on, Poppy. Get it over with so I can go back to my blissful existence sans this wanker.”
I pieced together the picture, looking between them.
Vaughn was obsessed with all things British. Spaced, Never Mind the Buzzcocks, and The Mighty Boosh. He listened solely to British music. The Smiths, Kinky Machine, the Stone Roses. Sure, his heritage was English, but Vaughn cared about his heritage like I cared about the welfare of the Hawaiian blob fish. Plus, Lenny had an Instagram. It could have been her account he’d been checking that time. She was a prodigy artist, specializing in insane shit. And he was…well, an insane shithead. Oh, and an artist, too.
Lenora was most famous in the hallways of All Saints High for getting on top of Christ the Redeemer to take a picture of the Rio view. Apparently, she’d also taken a thirty-year-old Brazilian model as a lover during her vacation this summer.
Vaughn and Lenora were a match made in hell, but they made sense.
“Just bloody do it.” Lenny poked Poppy’s ribs.
“Are you playing this Friday?” Poppy twiddled her thumbs, not even looking at me.
“Oh, Christ.” Lenny sighed, flinging her backpack on one of her shoulders and pinning me with a look.
“She wants to go out with you. Alone. On a real date. With flowers and a Kate Hudson film and possibly some heavy petting. Are you in or are you out?”
Good luck to Vaughn, because if there was one person to eat him alive, that would be this little ballbuster.
Last time Poppy asked me out, I’d dragged Hunter along, so she got the hint and brought Lenny, too. Lenny had nearly stabbed Hunter with a fork, and then Vaughn had given me the stink eye when he heard about the outing. He’d asked why I hadn’t asked him.
“When was the last time you went on a date?” I’d stared at him like he’d grown two spare heads and a pair of wings.
“Never.”
“That’s why.”
“I’d do it for you,” he’d deadpanned.
I’d called him on his bullshit then. Now I understood his sudden charitable offer.
“Yes,” Vaughn answered for me. “He’ll take her on a date. Now, can you remove yourself from our vicinity? I’m trying to eat here.”
He produced a seven-year-old granola bar from his pocket, which I knew he had absolutely no intention of eating. Vaughn didn’t eat. Publicly, I mean.
“Gladly,” Lenora said.
“Do you do anything gladly? You look like the miserable spawn of Marilyn Manson and a blowup doll.”
“Do you think blowup dolls can be impregnated, Vaughn? Shall I give you the talk about the birds and the bees?” Lenny squinted, before her phone chimed. She laughed. She actually laughed, as she shook her head. “Au revoir. And before you wonder, Vaughn—it doesn’t mean a fancy pastry.”
“My mom is French!” he yelled, finally snapping out of his usual ice-cold manner.
And just like that, Lenora and Vaughn disappeared in opposite directions, leaving me alone with Poppy.
“I do.” I smiled.
Her eyelashes fluttered. “A bit early for that, but what the hell, if the ring is nice, I’m game.”
I let out a laugh.
I’d cut off my balls and feed them to Luna’s seahorses before I marry into your sister’s family, dude.
“I do have a game on Friday,” I clarified. “The championship game, actually. But we can hang out after. Just the two of us.” I gave her a slow onceover, going for the kill with an I’ll-chew-your-panties-off smirk. “Especially if heavy petting is involved.”
“No promises.”
“Well, prepare to watch a shitty cop movie, then.”
She giggled. Her throat bobbed, and all I could think was, it’s just a throat. I didn’t want to kiss it. I didn’t want to trace it with my fingers. To strangle it. To cover every inch of it with my tongue and lips and teeth, like I’d imagined whenever I’d looked at Luna.
I reopened my locker and stared at the letter again, this time stuffing it into the back of my jeans. I needed something to hold onto.
A fresh hell to raise.
You want to be humored, Dixie? Joke’s on fucking you.
Winter break came blazing through my life, tearing hopes and plans in its wake.
Going back home felt like facing death row, with Knight representing a class of skilled snipers, all of them aiming their rifles at me.
I wanted to stay at Boon. I even went as far as considering going home with April to Montana. Her offer seemed genuine, and she was trying to work out a scenario where Ryan, Josh, she, and I were going to hang out there before flying back to Boon. Alas, I didn’t want to cower, and I didn’t want to prevent myself from hanging out with Edie, Dad, Racer, and Theo just because of Knight.
Besides, home was so much more than just Knight. Edie had said Rosie wasn’t doing well, and I wanted to check on her.
Racer had a toothless smile now. I needed to take pictures.
Daria was getting married. I wanted to be there for her.
I even missed Vaughn and his dark, angsty moods.
So I went.
Dad picked me up from the airport and carried my suitcase to Edie’s Porsche. He asked about Josh, and even though I wanted to die from the prospect of telling him the truth, I couldn’t lie, either.
“We’re just friends, Dad.” I buckled my seatbelt.
“Whatever you are, I support you, kiddo.” There was a beat of silence after that. “I kicked Cole’s ass.”
My eyebrows shot to my forehead.
He shrugged. “More or less. He feels awful about it, if it makes any difference at all.”
I looked out the window, watching San Diego zipping by on our way to Todos Santos. I hadn’t spoken to Knight in weeks, but I knew our paths were bound to cross now that I was next door again.
Dad shifted in his seat, scratching at his stubble. “There’s a pre-Christmas party at the Coles’ tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.” I schooled my features, staring straight ahead. Every fiber in my body didn’t want to go, but I’d be damned if I would disrupt everyone’s lives just because of a heartbreak I’d seen coming years ago. If I didn’t go, Edie and Theo wouldn’t go, either. Dad would have to keep face and show up. He’d take Racer, who’d ask about Edie and me the entire evening.
“You don’t have to.” Dad frowned. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. I knew he was uncomfortable.
“I’m more than happy to.”
“Does that mean you and Knight talked it out?”
I’d done quite a bit of talking with Knight, actually. I felt guilty even thinking that. I’d given Knight something my father had begged me for, for years. My words. Not that selective muteness was a choice. I’d tried speaking to Dad plenty. It sucked that I couldn’t give him the thing he wanted most.
“We’re fine.”
At least I hoped we were. I was counting on having no more embarrassing secrets Knight could reveal at the party, so really, how disastrous could it be?
I was a ball of nerves that whole first day back home, a knot of puke making it hard for me to breathe, smile, or shove food down my throat. I tried to write, but nothing came out. Tossing the MacBook to the wall in a fit, I grabbed my bike and decided to ride in the woods, where I knew I’d never bump into Knight. But I was too distracted and ended up falling flat on my butt twice. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d fallen off my bike.
Actually, I could.
The day Knight had saved me.
The world kept on moving, and I wasn’t even trying to play catch-up with it. Edie and Racer made cookies and put on Christmas movies while I secretly Googled Val’s name. One time, Dad caught me and asked what was going on.
“You look upset,” he said.
>
I shook my head at that.
“What are you doing?” he persisted.
I shook my head harder, thinking, Ruining my life. That seems to be the theme lately.
Then the next day rolled around, and I realized I had to face Knight. I didn’t want to go to the party. The only thing that made me drag myself out the door—every step feeling like I had a three-ton sandbag on my back—was that I knew he’d expect me to bail. He wanted confirmation of the fact that I was sad and lonely and in need of him.
Surprise, jerk.
Whether it was true or not, he was about to be served a big piece of humble pie. Hopefully he was hungry.
I showed up at the Coles’ in my usual attire of boyfriend jeans, Vans, and a cropped yellow sleeveless shirt, ignoring the herd of women in gowns and men in double-breasted suits sipping expensive champagne. The party was in the backyard, which was as big as a wedding venue. Everything was red, green, or white, including the waiters’ uniforms. They moved around, offering silver trays full of delicious finger foods and sparkling, golden liquid. I consciously worked on not scanning the place for Knight, and when Edie, Theo, and Racer disappeared into the kitchen to help Rosie and her staff, I found myself leaning against a round table next to Daria and Penn, just like Thanksgiving.
Daria took a sip of her champagne and glanced around the crowd, looking stunning in a red velvet dress.
“Vaughn is wearing a suit,” she observed, and I nearly choked on my glass of water.
I followed her gaze. Sure enough, he was. He looked quite dashing, too, with his black hair slicked back and his permanent frown smoothed into a blank expression. Vaughn always looked rich, even in tattered clothes. But now? Now he looked not only formidable, but…delicious. Daria turned to me, pressing the cold champagne to her cheek. Southern California was notorious for not getting the memo about it being Christmastime, and this year wasn’t any different. The air was hot, dense with temperature and hormones.
“Who’s the girl?” Daria pouted. “There must be one, if he’s making an effort.”
“No idea,” I signed.
“Of course you do. You’re one of his best friends.”
“Try Knight.”
I hated that my mind went automatically to him.
Daria snorted out a laugh. “I would, but he’s busy getting lucky by the pool. Which is, like, totes odd. I always thought you guys were going to end up together. Honestly, I’m glad you have a boyfriend at Boon. Knight is such a manwhore. He’d be a terrible boyfriend to leave on the other side of the country.”
He’s a virgin, you fool! I wanted to scream. At myself, not at Daria.
Then I remembered that’s what got me into this mess in the first place. The entire world and its sister thought Knight was dipping his sausage into every sauce on the counter.
How could I have known he’d been waiting for me?
Still, her words sank into me like deadly claws. My eyes darted to the pool, frantically looking for my best friend. I found him standing by the edge, clad in an eccentric navy blue suit, a vest, and a pocket square in maroon red. His hair was tugged in every direction under the sun, and he looked outrageously sexy, talking to Poppy Astalis with his hand on the small of her back.
Poppy Astalis in the flesh, wearing an A-line, navy blue dress and a maroon cardigan. They’d coordinated, I realized, and that made me want to throw up. My stomach churned, dipped, and shot an arrow of nausea to my throat. It didn’t matter that Lenny, her sister, was standing right next to them, yawning provocatively in a simple black dress. Or that Hunter Fitzpatrick was standing next to Lenny, trying to strike up a conversation, his confident smirk collapsing with each passing second it became apparent she wasn’t going to give him the time of day.
It was still obvious Knight and Poppy were together.
“I’m going to ask,” Daria announced.
“Skull Eyes,” Penn warned, his fingers curling around her elbow.
He’d nicknamed her Skull Eyes for reasons none of us could fathom. It was their secret, I supposed, and I loved that they had that—something that belonged just to them.
“What? I’m out of the loop. There’s always drama in Todos Santos. I want to know. I deserve to know. It’s my home field. Are you coming, Luna?”
I shook my head, but Daria being Daria, my consent was low on her care list. She grabbed me by the hand and dragged me through the Coles’ garden, talking my ear off about honeymoon destinations.
She stopped abruptly, frowning. “Oh, one more thing. What’d you do to him?”
My eyes widened in question.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t play coy. He’s obviously playing a game. What happened between you guys?”
I shook my head, shocked.
“Whatever. Don’t say; that’s fine. But don’t you dare show Knight that you care about this bitch. That’s exactly what he wants—a reaction out of you.”
Was this him getting even? Did he still want to hurt me? I liked it better back when Knight would have chopped his own leg off before inflicting pain on me. I swallowed, willing her comment to roll off my back. By the time we got to them, a mist of cold sweat decorated my forehead.
“Howdy, guys. We’ve arrived. Hence, the party can start.” Daria flipped her blonde mane, smiling big at Knight and Poppy, waiting for introductions. Instead of meeting his gaze, I directed a salute to Poppy and Lenny, smiling. They were safer to look at. Knight made the introductions, and maybe he looked at me, but I was too proud to glance and check.
Hunter squeezed my shoulder and whistled low. “I have to say—every girl at this party is wearing a gown more expensive than the other, but you, Rexroth, look like an enchanting Lolita, even in your pajamas.”
I wasn’t wearing pajamas, but I wasn’t going to correct him, either. It wasn’t worth taking my phone out and typing a comeback. I flipped him the finger, instead.
“It’s not pajamas, you wasted pile of scum. Don’t you dare patronize her,” Knight hissed through gritted teeth, heat radiating from his body.
Hunter’s confidence melted. Daria’s playful grin widened as Hunter threw Knight a dispassionate grin.
“Down, boy. You’ll pop an artery and ruin your precious Burberry suit.”
“I think my knuckles are the ones going to get messed up, and they’ve seen worse than your ugly face.”
“Righto, time to calm down. Hunter was just taking the piss.” Poppy rubbed Knight’s back, slipping under his arm into an embrace.
Daria stared at them like they were a game she was still figuring out the rules to. Her smile screamed trouble.
“So, Poppy,” Daria purred.
“Hmm?” Poppy batted her lashes.
They were two alpha females sharpening their claws in front of a thirsty audience. Poppy’s message was clear: she was not intimidated. Daria’s intentions were showcased perfectly, too: she didn’t like the British invasion.
“Knight here is like my baby brother, but he doesn’t tell me anything. Are you guys an item?”
Poppy giggled in a way that made her so much less lovable to me than I’d remembered. My stomach clenched. Whatever Daria was getting at, I knew she was team Luna. I just wished she wouldn’t probe. The sheer horror of being here next to them filled my annual quota for angst, and I didn’t care for a second serving.
“I reckon we are.” Poppy looked up to Knight, touching her blemished cheek. “Are we not, darling?”
I looked away just as Vaughn appeared, saving—or ruining—the day. It really depended how you looked at it. I focused on breathing through my nose and staring at the back of a waitress’ head. Vaughn gave me a peck on the cheek, throwing me off balance. He was not one for affection.
“Look what the pussy dragged in.” Daria bowed down, tugging at the hem of her gown theatrically. “Question is—which pussy was it that made you wear something you didn’t steal from Salvation Army? Care to shed some light on the matter?”
“Daria, I see you are s
till putting that sharp mind of yours to good use,” Vaughn drawled sarcastically. “If you must know, I lost a bet to my father.”
“BS. You never lose, Vaughn.” Daria knocked back her drink.
“I did this week,” he clipped unflappably.
“Bummer. Thought you were finally trying to impress a girl.”
“Girls are in the business of impressing me, not vice versa.”
“Can’t argue with that.” She slammed her empty champagne glass on a tray, snatching a fresh one from a passing waiter.
Lenora made a show of gagging. Vaughn, who caught the gesture like an eagle waiting for its prey to show a sign of life, went for the kill.
“I see the mediocre artist does not approve. How is your dead kingdom doing, Miss Astalis?”
“Splendid. Watching your empire sinking slowly and having a jolly good time, Mr. Will-Never-Be-As-Good-As-His-Mummy.”
“Jeez, your nerd-talk game is hot.” Daria pretended to fan herself. “So, are you kids bumping uglies?” She pointed between Lenny and Hunter, obviously adding fuel to the fire.
“It’s a work in progress,” Knight said, slinging an arm over each of their shoulders and looking between them. I stole a glance at him, and our eyes met, then darted in opposite directions. Bile bubbled in my throat.
“I have a boyfriend,” Lenny whispered hotly, her cheeks pinking.
“No one’s buying that, Lenora. You need to be at least semi-tolerable for that to happen.”
Vaughn was obviously turning on his charm this evening.
“We’re going on a double date next week,” Knight announced, and I couldn’t help myself.
I let out a bitter chuckle. So he and Poppy were officially dating. Good for them.
“You seem hell-bent on making that happen.” Daria eyed Knight curiously. “I wonder why.”
“Just playing matchmaker, like my good friend Vaughn, who threw me into Poppy’s arms so generously. Thanks, man.”
“You needed a shove in the right direction,” Vaughn said meaningfully, his eyes boring into Knight’s.
Knight shrugged. “Anyway… Three more couples to fix up, and I’ll secure my place in heaven.”
“Even if you find the cure for death, you won’t be getting a free pass into heaven,” I signed.