Wreckless

by Bria Quinlan

  Okay, when near strangers were offering to loan you clothes, it was worse than you thought, especially if you didn't think it was very bad.

  “So what can I do?”

  Jake looked at me like I was a lost cause.

  “What size shoe do you wear?” Missy asked.

  “Six.”

  “Perfect. I wear a seven. I have a pair of sandals I was going to donate because I bought them a size too small.”

  She took off before I could say anything.

  “That will be better, right? Shoes?”

  “Yeah.” Jake did a lap around me. “Better. But you're going to have to lose the t-shirt under the dress.”

  “I don't think so.” I ran my hand down my sides, trying to smooth out the ridges the t-shirt was creating.

  “Why the hell are you wearing that thing anyway?”

  I had no interest in mentioning my bra in front of Jake, so I just kind of shook my head.

  “It doesn't look right without the t-shirt.”

  “Bridget, it doesn't look right with the t-shirt. It's a dress. It's supposed to look like that.” He crossed his arms. “Take it off.”

  “Excuse me.”

  “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

  There was no way, in the middle of his cousin's living room with all the lights on and not three feet from him, that I was taking my clothes off.

  “What's the matter, darlin’? You feeling a little shy now?”

  I'd been feeling shy my whole life. This was something completely different than that. Take shy, multiply it by seven, square it, and then do that twice more. That's what I thought about Jake seeing me out of this dress.

  Not. Gonna. Happen.

  “You're not wearing that to the party.”

  “I'm not stripping for you.”

  Jake stalked the three steps to me, his voice so low I wouldn't have heard him from where he'd started. “You did already once tonight.”

  He was so close I had to look up to see him, his jaw cutting across my view. “That was different.”

  “Was it? You're less daring inside?”

  “I'm less daring when you can see me.”

  “Maybe it's my turn to peek.”

  I suddenly wanted to be that girl. I wanted to be the girl who was daring. I didn't want to strip, but there had to be something in between.

  “Turn around.”

  He just shook his head.

  “Turn around so I can take the t-shirt off.”

  There had to be nine other rooms in this house, but something in me wanted to do the thing he didn't expect. I wanted—for once—to be the one pushing myself.

  He took a step away and turned his back. I reached behind me and lowered the zipper, the metal of the teeth sliding apart echoing in the room like a muffled typewriter.

  I rushed through the movements, yanking the t-shirt out from beneath my dress without really taking the dress off. It was a girl gift—like putting one shirt on under another.

  I zipped back up and straightened the top.

  “Okay, you can turn back around.”

  The look he gave me when he turned my way wasn’t the relieved one I expected. “Bridget.”

  I couldn't believe the tone of his voice. Like he was completely exasperated with me. “What?”

  “What's with the bra?”

  Oh my gosh. Was nothing sacred?

  “That's why I was wearing the t-shirt. I should put it back on, shouldn't I?”

  Not only could you see the straps, but when I looked down, it was clear the bra was cut way too high in the front for this dress.

  Upstairs, I heard something fall over, then a distant, “I'm okay,” and wondered where exactly Missy had put those too-small shoes.

  “No. You should not put it back on. You should take the bra off.”

  My hand flew to my chest. There was no way I was taking that bra off.

  “Don't look at me like that, darlin’. I'm not telling you to get naked. Again. But—and don't take this the wrong way—doesn't that dress have one of those built-in bras?”

  I nodded. It was true.

  “And—this is the part you can't get upset at—you’re not exactly a chesty girl, are you?”

  At just over one hundred pounds and five-foot-four, I counted myself lucky to almost fill out an A-cup.

  I was embarrassed to admit it, but I shook my head. No. No, I wasn't a chesty girl.

  “So that built-in bra should pretty much do whatever it was built in there to do just fine, right?”

  I hated that he was right, but I hadn't left the house without a bra since I was thirteen.

  He looked at me like he could read my mind and then almost had me convinced he could.

  “Isn't the bra in the dress as good as a bra anyway?”

  I really just wanted him to stop saying bra at this point.

  “I guess.” I shouldn't have said that. It was like admitting defeat. Jake just turned around and waited. I rolled my eyes at him even though he couldn't see me.

  Unzipping the dress just a little again, I reached back and shifted to unclasp the bra and pull its straps down my arms. As I was pulling the second one down, I glanced up and caught Jake's gaze in the window.

  “Are you watching me?” I sounded horrified. And really ticked off.

  He turned around, crossed the room to me again, and leaned down to whisper, “Turnabout's fair play.”

  We stared at each other, neither of us letting the other off the hook, the heat of my anger clashing with the warmth I could feel coming off him.

  “I found the shoes.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Are you nervous?” Jake asked as we pulled up to a house not far from his high school.

  I wanted to say, Are you here? Because every time I let my guard down with him, I was breaking a law or taking my clothes off. So yeah. If he was within a twenty-mile radius, I was probably nervous.

  Instead of owning up to that, I settled for nodding.

  “It's just a party. We'll make a little time, then we'll take off.” He parked behind a beat-up Ford Focus and shut the truck down. “Who knows, you might even have some fun.”

  He opened the door and hopped down, putting his hand out for me to slide across the bench.

  I took a deep breath then slid over, letting him ease me to the ground next to him before reaching back for my sweater.

  As I pulled it on, Jake rolled his eyes toward the heavens like there might be some help coming.

  “Is that a cardigan? Hell no, Bridget.”

  I tugged the sweater around me tighter. Not because I was cold, but because I knew he was going to tried to take it away from me.

  “Unless you're off to Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, you are taking that thing off right now.”

  “It might be cold in there.”

  “There has never been a house packed with partying teenagers that was less than ninety degrees.” He glared at the sweater. “And I am getting entirely too tired of forcing clothes off your body without there being any type of actual visual payoff. Darlin’, you will take that thing off before we go in or I will take it off you myself.”

  We glared at one another for a long moment, the soundtrack to our silent argument blaring from the house just up the lane. When he crossed his arms, I knew we weren’t going anywhere until I’d lost a layer—again.

  I slid the sweater down my arms, dropped it back on the bench, and let him push the door shut.

  “You're not going to know anyone here. It's not like you’ll go to school Monday and everyone's going to be like, Did you see how hot Bridget looked Saturday? You can be whoever you want. No one here is going to see you again. So just chill.”

  I'd like to say I took that all in and became a strong, independent woman who walked in that party like I owned it.

  But the truth is, I pretty much blacked everything else out when Jake implied that I looked hot.

  Instead, I stared at him like my brain had fallen out during my haircut. H
e shook his head, took my hand, and pulled me toward the noise spilling out of the house.

  We went around to a back porch people were hanging out on. Guys shouted at Jake as we went by. A couple of them offered him a smile and looked at me like what the heck is she doing clutching your hand, dude as we passed.

  Inside, the classic rock was so loud it swept over me, blocking out everything else for a moment. It was like stepping into the light and letting your eyes adjust, only my ears had to get used to all the noise drowning out all the other noise. One guy came up, his eyes running over me in a way that made me feel very, very nervous before leaning in to clap Jake on the back and shout something in his ear.

  Jake grinned and nodded, but looked less than pleased. The grin definitely wasn’t anything like his Trouble Grin or his Mocking Bridget Grin or his Sheepish Younger Cousin Grin. He dragged me on without introducing us.

  Moment Number One of Jake being embarrassed by me.

  Another guy approached us, giving me an uncomfortable once-over. It was hard to believe the looks I was getting. The guy leaned in, trading a few low words with Jake. At the end of the exchange, he jerked his head toward the kitchen and Jake nodded, pulling me along behind him to the doorway. When he stopped to scope out the room, I went up on my toes, barely clearing his shoulder.

  “Who was that?”

  “Who?” he asked, even though I was pretty sure he knew exactly who I was talking about.

  “That guy you just talked to.”

  Jake glanced back, and I followed his gaze to where the guy stood with a group, all of them looking our way.

  “That's Bill. The first guy was Dave. Stay away from him.”

  “What?” Why did he think I'd go anywhere near someone that scary?

  “He's way outside your comfort zone and way too willing to be your non-boyfriend kiss.”

  Oh. I'd forgotten the list. Just for a few minutes. I think it had something to do with my hand wrapped in Jake's larger one. How just the size of him, the confidence he moved with, how he stayed in control of things, made me feel safe.

  It was like a cheat. Daring, but safe.

  Refocus. We were here so I could go to a party. A party that should let me check off more of the list. Like the kiss.

  Apparently the kiss wouldn’t be happening with Jake, either.

  Not that I'd assumed that. I mean, I knew I was swimming over my head and I shouldn't have been anywhere near him, but I guess I just hadn't thought it through.

  I pulled my hand from his and looked around.

  Jake looked really confused by my hand-removal move. “What?”

  But it seemed like the right thing to do. I wasn't there with him. He'd just made that very clear and I—if I came back to Sane Bridget Land for a moment—didn't want to be there with him. I wanted to get over the last guy and stretch my wings. I wanted to stop worrying about how people saw me and what they were saying. I wanted to just enjoy myself.

  Shooting him a smile, I aimed for that same over-confident look he kept giving me. “Nothing.”

  Before he could say anything, I headed into the kitchen and smiled at the first guy I saw.

  I almost fell down dead when he smiled back.

  “You looking for something?” he asked, still smiling.

  Maybe this wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.

  It was quieter in the kitchen, but I could still feel the pounding of the bass in the hollow of my chest.

  I grabbed a red cup off the stack on the counter. “I just wanted a drink.”

  “Beer?”

  Um, more bitter yuckiness? No thank you.

  “Do you have something not beer'y?”

  “Sure. We've got princess punch.”

  Oh, that sounded pretty good. It had to be better than beer. I handed him my cup and he filled it almost to the top.

  He leaned in to say something but glanced up at Jake hovering behind me.

  “You're here with Moore?”

  I shook my head, spitting out, “No,” before Jake could. I wasn't sure I could take the non-rejection rejection of that.

  I glanced to where Jake stood behind me, arms crossed, staring at the cup in my hand. I was probably going to spill it, it was so full. Lowering my head, I took a sip off the very full cup.

  It was sweet, like punch and Jell-O mixed together.

  “Oh, that's good.”

  The guy smiled. I smiled. Jake stood there with his arms crossed, definitely not smiling.

  I was so not good with people.

  “Jake!”

  Before I could step out of the way, a girl in a tiny, midriff-baring tank top and cutoffs launched herself at Jake, nearly spilling my cup of punch. I drank more down so there wasn't another overspill opportunity.

  “I've been waiting for you to get here all night. You promised to dance with me this weekend.”

  Jake lowered her to the ground, his lips pulling up on both sides in a New Jake Smile I hadn’t seen yet. Even once her feet were on the floor, she didn't let go of him. Both hands were woven around the back of his neck, and I'd have bet she'd have grabbed onto his hair before letting go.

  “Mish, this is Bridget.”

  Mish turned to look at me over her shoulder, gave a little smile, and turned back to Jake. She leaned into him to whisper in his ear.

  Okay, she probably was shouting in his ear since it was so loud, but she looked like she wanted to be whispering. When Jake shook his head, she smiled and grabbed his hand.

  “Andy, I'm claiming that dance Jake promised me. Maybe you could keep his friend busy.”

  Busy seemed like an interesting choice of words.

  Andy stepped forward, filling in the space left by Jake and the scantily clad Mish.

  “Bridget, do you dance?”

  A girl stepped over to us and refilled my glass. “Nice try, Andy.”

  She wrapped her hand around my arm and led me to the snack bar on the other side of the kitchen where the music was more background noise than a reason to shout.

  “Don't mind him. Andy will flirt with anything.”

  Wow, that was direct.

  “We're constantly trying to downgrade his expectations.”

  I stared at her. Was she saying I was out of his league? I glanced at Andy again. He was kind of cute in an Andrew Garfield kind of way.

  “And,” the very bubbly girl kept going, “Mish has been after Jake since Sarah dumped him. She's not going to let a little thing like him showing up with someone else get in her way.”

  She dropped onto a stool at the counter and pulled another one out with her foot next to the girl she’d been hanging out with when I’d come in.

  “This is Jamie. Jamie, Bridget.” The girl on her other side gave a little wave. “Oh, I'm Rayla. Also, cute dress.”

  I was really trying not to be overwhelmed. In less than a minute, Rayla had said more to me than most people had over the past year.

  Well, except for Leah. Of course, when we’d hung out she'd talk, but it was more focused. Usually, it was also about her. Occasionally she'd asked about Tanner and me.

  Looking back, it seemed odd she'd check so much about how things were going with Tanner and me. I'd assumed it was normal friend check-in stuff.

  Now I wondered.

  I also remember choking on my Diet Dr. Pepper when she'd asked me if I was sleeping with him.

  At the time, I'd thought, Doesn't she know me better than that? That I'd be sleeping with some guy I just started dating?

  Now I realized all of it—the fake concern, the questions, all of it—had been about her. Checking to make sure I wasn’t sleeping with the guy she had secretly claimed for herself.

  I downed more of the red sweetness in my cup, trying to figure out what to say—trying to figure out how everything had unraveled to me being at a party with two girls I didn’t know.

  I glanced from Jamie to Rayla. “What would you do if you caught the other one of you with your boyfriend?”

  “
Um, wow.”

  “Yeah, I can't even imagine that.”

  “I mean, first, I can't imagine having a boyfriend.”

  “This is true. I can't imagine you having a boyfriend.”

  “Hey.” Rayla gave Jamie a playful shove. “But when I do, I can't imagine there being time for you to cheat with him. I mean, we're always together now as it is.”

  “So basically, you think I wouldn't try to steal your boyfriend because of time restrictions?” Jamie didn't sound the least bit annoyed. She was laughing, as if it were a big joke.

  “That, and the fact that we're soul sisters.” Rayla took another sip. “And I'd kill you.”

  Then they were both giggling. This was so not a funny conversation. But they were laughing. They were so sure of one another that it wasn't a matter to really discuss.

  I wondered if I'd felt that way about Leah. I thought I had, but now…I didn't know. Even just four hours later, everything I'd known about my life felt flipped. Flippity-dip-dip-dip.

  Leah was gone, goodbye, and I was left wondering what I’d done wrong while the Soul Sisters giggled as they downed more nachos.

  “You guys are nuts.” I slapped my hand over my mouth. I couldn't believe I'd just insulted the Soul Sisters.

  They both laughed.

  “We know.” Rayla grinned, as if it were a point of pride. “But in a good way, right?”

  “So you came with Jake...” It was one of those fade outs that was more a question than a statement.

  “Not really. I mean, I came with him, but we're not…you know.”

  “Well, good thing, then, because I don't think Mish is going to give up on him.” Rayla glanced through the doorway to where Mish was doing what was probably a normal dancing-with-a-hot-guy-at-a-party dance but looked more like an upright lap dance. Or what I assumed a lap dance looked like.

  “Nope.” I pulled my gaze away. Nothing to see here, folks. “He's all hers.”

  It wasn't jealousy I felt. Absolutely not. It was almost relief. Seeing Jake with Mish was the little slap I'd needed. Somewhere during the night I forgotten how dangerous boys were and that Jake—even though he'd been pulling off what passed as nice—was probably at the top dangerous list. He excelled at it.

  A+ in Dangerousness.

  “So.” I took another sip of my punch, and glanced around for snacks, a bit hungry at this point. Thank goodness someone had handed me a drink. And there were pretzels! I loved pretzels. Ohhh! Cheese dip! I mean, it wasn’t cotton candy, but obviously after the Fair Disaster, party snacks would have to do. “Nope. It's all good.”