by Jessica Roe
I close my eyes as he traces gentle fingers over my lips. “It's New Year's Eve,” I whisper. “People kiss on New Year's Eve.”
“So it's okay,” he agrees. I open my eyes, glad he's going along with our lie. “Expected, even.”
“We wouldn't want to break tradition.”
“It'd be awfully rude of us...”
His eyes flicker from mine to my lips and back again. Next door they get to ten, nine, eight...
Before they can finish, Silver sucks in a breath and slides his hand around the back of my neck, pulling my mouth to his.
Fireworks explode over our heads but neither of us notice as our lips clash. Silver reaches up and knocks the beanie off my head so he can lace his fingers through my hair. I cup his cheek, running the tips of my fingers over the curve of his ear. When I open my mouth for him, he groans in relief as his tongue touches mine.
The kiss goes from slow and heated to fast and passionate and all consuming within a matter of seconds. He rolls over me and I open my legs up for him so he can settle in between. Every pent up emotion that we've been so bad at hiding is released, setting us ablaze in a fire of lust and want and need. He grips my face almost painfully, as if he's afraid I'll disappear if he lets go, before moving down my body to explore.
His eager hands slide over my shoulders, squeezing them tightly, then pass down my chest, my waist, my butt. He pulls me closer and then one hand glides down my thigh and lifts, hooking my leg over his waist. Satisfied when I tighten my legs around him, his hands move back up, unbuttoning my coat as they go. He slides under my t-shirt and over my stomach, his fingers just teasing under the edge of my bra. I can feel his delicious weight over every inch of me and despite the snow, my body is on fire.
“Your skin is so soft,” he murmurs. “Even softer than in my dreams.”
Reaching up, I yank the lumpy hat off his head and push my fingers into the curls I love so much. I mewl delightedly as he presses into me, hard and wanting and unafraid to show it. His mouth leaves mine and trails a path down my chin, my neck, and up to the particularly sensitive spot just underneath my ear. He must feel me squirm underneath him because he sucks that spot hard, giving it extra attention, before pressing his lips to mine once again.
We both breathe heavy, gasping into each other's mouths as we try to get closer, try to touch every inch of skin we can find. I clutch at his cheeks and pull his face away, just an inch, so I can look at him. There is so much going on in his eyes, something more than just lust, and he looks down at me with such affection that my heart skips a beat. I bring him down and kiss him again. He wants me, bad. I can feel it every time he presses against me and I like it...a lot.
I'd never really believed before that being emotionally connected to someone makes all the physical stuff so much better, but it really, really does. It's like we're joining together on every level. I can only imagine what sex with Silver would be like. Silver is the only guy I've ever even wanted to have sex with. And I do want to have sex with him. So bad.
Somehow my fingers end up on his pants zipper and his slip underneath my bra and it feels so damn good.
“I want you so much,” he growls into my mouth, sounding wild. “I need you so much, Blair.”
“You have me,” I promise. I don't think I've ever meant anything more in my whole life. “All of me.”
This seems to unleash something, something primal and passionate, and he kisses me with a renewed vigour.
But then I pull down his zipper and the sound makes him freeze. Suddenly he's gone and I'm left laying there, cold and alone.
He sits as far away from me on the blanket as he possibly can, his knees brought up and his head resting between them, heaving giant breaths. “What the hell were we doing, Blair? What, were we just going to have sex right here? Right outside on this blanket?”
“No-”
“Damn.” He jumps up and begins to pace, his hands hooked behind his neck. “DAMN!”
I pull down my top and sit up. “Silver-”
“We shouldn't have done that. It was out of control. I didn't mean for that to happen.”
“Then why did you leave your stupid party? Why did you bring me out here?” I hiss, standing up. I want to yell at him, to scream at him for messing with my head again, but there are still people outside next door and though the roar of the fireworks would probably drown me out, I don't want to chance it.
“I don't know.” He sighs raggedly and runs shaking hands through his already mussed up curls. “I DON'T KNOW!”
I take a step back and remorse shines in his eyes. We both listen for a moment to see if the neighbours heard his outburst, but we seem to be okay.
“All I could think about at that party tonight was you,” he admits. “All I can ever think about is you. I'm half out of my mind, Blair. Tonight...it was like I couldn't think straight, I just had to be here with you.”
“Do you regret it?” I ask softly.
“I regret a lot of things.”
“Like what?”
“Like meeting you that day in the diner. If we'd have just met in school, or at least when I already knew you were going to be my student, I never would've looked at you that way. You'd just be another student, or extended family, like Jemma.”
He'll never know how much he just hurt me with that. He'll never know.
Despite everything, I'll never regret meeting him that day. Meeting and knowing Silver has changed me for the better. I blink to wash away unwanted tears. “Do you regret kissing me tonight?”
He looks me right in the eyes. “Yes.” And my heart breaks.
As calmly as I can, because on the inside I'm trying really hard not to fall apart, I bend down and pick up our forgotten hats, passing him his before shoving mine on my head. I wish it didn't smell like his shampoo. “I'm done,” I tell him firmly, and I'm proud of how steady my voice comes out. Inside I'm a shaking mess.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I'm done. With it. With you. With not knowing where I stand, with your constant back and forth games. I'm done. I'm over it. I'm over you.”
He stares at me blankly, devoid of all emotion, and I do what I should have done months ago before things could have ever gotten this far.
I walk away.
Silver doesn't once try to stop me.
IN THE WEEKS that follow after The Kiss (as it will forever be known in my mind), Silver and I put more effort into avoiding each other than we ever have. Though to be fair, it's not like we tried all that hard before. Other than in class—where Silver doesn't look my way and never calls on me for answers—we don't see one another at all, apart from a glimpse across the street every now and then when one of us is coming or going home.
Unfortunately, staying away from Silver also means staying away from Granny Yo. I feel guilty about this but I just can't bring myself to go over there, even when I know he's not home. Just walking into a house that smells like him makes my heart hurt in stupid ways.
So I spend all my time with my friends, studying mostly, now the fact that it's senior year has finally hit us.
I try my hardest not to be too grossed out by Kip and Ibbie—who finally hooked up at the New Year's Eve party I missed—but they make it really hard. They make out...a lot. And I've seen their hands disappearing places I never wanted to think about. Rafe suggested we film it and sell it as a porno, which I think Ibbie briefly considered before remembering that she wants to be a serious actress some day.
Three weeks after New Year's Eve, Nash finally moves back to his place, which had taken way longer to renovate than he'd originally anticipated. At least that's what Nash said. I have a sneaking suspicion he stuck around a little longer to watch out for me. He'd never admit it though, because he's a guy and he's a brother and that means he's not allowed to show his sensitive side. Apparently. I try to hide it but I'm sad when he goes. With Zac back at college, there's no one left at home really on my side. Jemma's great and all, but onl
y outside of school and when she's not with her friends, and she is always with her friends. And the little kids are awesome but they're still just little kids.
Most people in school have stopped calling me names. There are still a few, always true to the end, but even their efforts are half hearted, like they're merely bored and only doing it out of habit.
Gage still wants to sleep with me, but I'm starting to think it's more than that; I think he might actually be into me. Like with feelings, which is just weird. I wish I reciprocated, everything would be so much easier if I just reciprocated. A relationship between Gage and I would be just that—easy. We'd be able to go out on dates, touch each other whenever we wanted, act inappropriate around our friends like Kip and Ibbie, meet the family.
But no matter how hard I try, that spark, the one I feel every time I hear Silver's voice, just isn't there with Gage. It isn't there with anybody who isn't Silver, even though I kind of hate him right now, and that just pisses me off. If I dated Gage even though I felt nothing but friendship towards him, if I even casually hooked up with him, I'd be doing it for all the wrong reasons and that wouldn't be fair to either of us. I'd be using him.
Months ago, before I met Silver and before I came to this town and learned what it was like to have friends and a family and people who cared about me, I used guys like that all the time. Sometimes I'd let them kiss me and touch me because after living with my mom and watching her destroy herself, I was just left numb, and I needed those guys to make me feel something, anything. I needed something that would fill in that gaping empty void inside me created by by her and her vicious words. And then other times it would be a complete one eighty and there would be so much pain and anger and hatred and loneliness inside me that I'd want the numbness and hooking up with some loser would be the only thing that would make me forget.
But I'm not that girl any more. The pain my mom left me with isn't as powerful as it once was, isn't as destructive. And though I'm still just a heartbroken girl, this time it's different. The heartbreak my mom caused me was toxic, poisonous. My Silver heartbreak just...is. And despite it all, I still wouldn't give up a moment with him.
So that's why I won't use Gage that way.
But he flirts with me and I let him, and I even flirt back because I know he knows it will never go anywhere; it's just for fun. I think he's mostly okay with that. Besides, who doesn't like the attention of a cute guy?
He still tries to hold my hand a lot—in the hallways between classes and when he sits with us at lunch. I stopped trying to argue with him a couple of weeks ago and now I let him, because like on my birthday, it's kind of nice.
And yesterday when he did it and I turned around to see Silver standing by a classroom doorway, glaring at me furiously as if I was holding Gage's hand just to spite him...well, I didn't entirely hate that.
FRIDAY ROLLS AROUND and it's a quiet night at Merry Fairburn's. There's some kind of annual town meeting going on (Felicia was undeniably happy when I told her I wouldn't be attending), so the place is dead. The townspeople of Fortune take their annual meetings very seriously. All except Eli, who despite having lived here his whole life, described the thing as a pile of boring horse crap. I asked him why he thought horse crap was boring and he compared it to dinosaur crap, which of course led into a discussion about the woman who stuck her hand in dinosaur crap in Jurassic Park and how awesome Jurassic Park is.
Eli is taking advantage of the quiet atmosphere to blast some Columbian music and he and Chef Reaman—a sinfully gorgeous dark haired devil in his thirties—are laughing their asses off at me and Ibbie as we pretend we know how to dance to it. Mostly we just spin around and shake our butts and giggle breathlessly.
I squeeze my eyes shut and spin, my arms spread out wide. When I open my eyes, the flickering candles around the room blur into endless circles around me, like fairy lights. It's beautiful.
I go faster and faster and faster and fasterandfasterandfaster-
Ibbie pokes me in the ribs, breaking me out of my trance. My body stops but the room continues to spin around me a few seconds more. “Whoa.” I shake my dizzy head. When I look up I realize why she stopped me; Silver is stood in the restaurant doorway. He watches me with dark eyes, and for just a moment my entire body heats up in response. But my internal fire is doused by something icy cold and slithery when I see that Silver isn't alone.
He's brought a date. Here. Out of all the places in this town, this whole world, he could have brought her, he brought her here. Here where he knew I would have to watch, have to serve.
Silver is on a date.
And this girl, woman, is beautiful. She's tall and tanned and pouty and her blonde hair cascades over her shoulders like perfect golden freaking waves. She's everything I'm not. Sophisticated, elegant, smartly dressed. She probably drinks red wine and eats gross cheeses and reads books about history in her silky lingerie while Silver feeds her grapes in his top hat and Abraham Lincoln beard and nothing else.
For the first time in my life, jealousy eats me up inside like I've never known. It's a terrible, terrible feeling.
Chef Reaman glides into the kitchen while Eli lowers the music volume and turns to me, probably to tease me some and then tell me to show them to a table, but he stops when he gets a look at my face.
“Blair, you're white as a damn ghost. What's the deal, kiddo?” He follows my gaze to Silver. Ibbie is doing the same thing, understandable confusion in her eyes; I'm acting like a freak.
“Did something happen with you and Mr Keegan?” she whispers.
Eli's face reddens with anger. “Did he do something to you?”
I find my voice before they can come to a very bad conclusion and rip my eyes away from Silver, still waiting to be shown to a table. “No! No, he...nothing like that. I just...He just...I can't talk about this right now. Please.”
Without me even explaining anything they're both immediately supportive.
“Want me to kick him out?” Eli asks, and I remember the last time Silver was here and Eli refused to do just that. I shake my head. He can't afford to turn away business on a quiet night like tonight.
“It's fine, but-”
“I'll take the table,” Ibbie suggests. I'm grateful I didn't have to ask. “And Eli, you should totally let her have a happy drink.”
“A what?”
“You know, a drink that makes people happy. One of the colourful ones.”
“No under-age drinking.”
“Not even the colourful ones?”
He swats her with a menu. “Go.”
I try not to pay attention, but over the next hour Silver does everything he possibly can to make sure that I know he's here On A Date. He laughs way too hard at jokes that aren't even funny (yeah, I listen), talks too loud, touches her face and her hair and feeds her bites of his dinner like a stupid chump. He does everything he can to hurt me.
It works.
Even her voice is sweet and refined and graceful. Nothing like mine, which is a harsh mixture of the different cities I grew up in. And her laugh... She tinkles. Like a fairy.
Looking at them...they look perfect together, like they belong with each other. Both so classy and kind of posh and well rounded and nice.
I imagine what it would look like if Silver and I were on a date—if the teacher/student thing had never been an issue. He would still be smart and cultivated and good, and I'd still be a messed up girl with stupid hair and a bad attitude. We definitely don't match like he does with her. People would think we were crazy.
“Come with me,” Eli murmurs as he passes me by to go into the kitchen.
Ibbie has just slammed a jug of water down on Silver's table so hard it splashed all over him. She doesn't even know why she's mad at him yet she's still doing an awesome job of it.
I perch on a kitchen counter and accept the chocolate pudding Chef Reaman hands me. It's probably delicious, but I'm pretty sure my taste buds are broken because I don't taste a thing.
&
nbsp; Eli leans against the sink opposite me and folds his arms over his chest, his muscles practically bursting out of his almost too tight t-shirt. He should probably invests in some bigger clothes, but I think he secretly likes showing off his guns. “So what's the story?” he demands, not unkindly. “To an outsider it might look like a crush on teacher, but something tells me it's more than that. You don't seem the type of girl to go getting silly over a man.”
I realize I'm not getting away with saying nothing here. But I can trust Eli, I know I can. Since I've been here he's become kind of like an uncle to me. Maybe even a distant, grumpy father. “Don't freak out, okay?”
“No promises. If he hurt one of my girls, I'll hurt him.”
I love him. He's frikkin' scary, but I love him.
“It's complicated, but we met before we knew he was my teacher.” I let him come to his own assumptions about that, and I don't mention The Kiss. He definitely doesn't need to know about that—he already looks pissed enough. “Nothing else is going on. We're not having some gross teacher/student fling, and he hasn't tried anything inappropriate.” Much.
He blows out a puff of air. “Well, I guess I don't need to kill him then.”
Eli asks me a few more questions, and seems satisfied by the answers.
“You won't tell anyone?” I might wish Silver's penis would shrivel up and drop off right into his date's vagina, but I don't want him to get fired.
“No.” He moves over to me and slings an arm around my neck in a semi hug. “But not for him. I just don't think you need the stress when you're so close to graduating. And I trust you not to do anything stupid.”
“Thank you.”
“So what's the reason for the ugly blonde bitch?”
His loyalty to me makes me smile. “I don't know. Maybe to prove a point?”
“Damn. Now I want to pummel him again. You sure I can't?”
“Sure.” Silver's face is way too pretty to withstand one of Eli's huge fists. “He's really not a bad guy. Just kind of an ass.”
“You wanna go home? We can manage without you for the rest of the shift. Probably didn't need both you girls in tonight anyway.”