“Here’s to the top,” Danielle added raising the flask. “Here’s to the middle. Let’s hope after school, Meg gets a little.” She took a swig, winced and handed it to Megan.
“I’m pretty sure it’s not ‘little’, girls,” she teased grabbing the flask. “And I’m gonna smoke him after school regardless.”
“Now, you realize that he’s going to get all hot and sweaty?” I asked. “It might be a little distracting.”
“Trust me, Jillian,” she replied with a sinister smile. “You haven’t seen distracting yet.” She tipped the flask back, finishing it off.
“This is going to be awesome,” Danielle began. “We’ll meet at the track after school so Megan can show Nate what she’s got,” she added with a hip shake.
I shoved Joan into my messenger bag so that I could remember to refill her at home. As we walked back out to the hallway, I noticed that I had a few minutes before I needed to be in World Lit. It was just enough time to take a peek behind the gym. He would probably need his daily nic fix.
“I’ll catch up with you guys,” I said nonchalantly. “I forgot something in my locker.”
I knew if I rushed, I could make it there with a few minutes to spare. I told myself that it was more to hear his take on the scene in the cafeteria than for any other reason. I rushed through the sea of students quickly, but in my haste I found myself colliding with a frazzled freshman. As I hit the ground, my bag opened, spilling the contents all over the floor. I watched in horror as my flask went skidding down the hall finally bouncing off of Mrs. Jacobs’ shoe. She picked it up, inspected it and slowly looked over at me as I sat on the floor frozen.
“Jillian Cross,” she began sternly. “In my classroom. Now.” My heart was in my throat. I had never gotten in trouble before. And this was big trouble.
“I don’t know what has gotten into you, Jillian,” she began, glaring at me from behind her desk. “Your behavior has been strange, and now you’re bringing alcohol to school?” She shook it testing to see if there was anything inside. I suddenly was extremely grateful that Megan was a flask-hog and finished up the rest of the vodka. “It’s empty,” she stated.
“Yes, I swear. I just brought it as a joke,” I replied trying to rein in my panic.
“I’m really disappointed in you, Jillian. You should know better. Report to detention today. And I’m confiscating the flask.”
The blood drained from my face and I felt the tears well up in my eyes. No. No. She couldn’t take it.
“Mrs. Jacob, I understand what I did was wrong,” I implored. “I promise I will never bring it back to school again. If you could just give it back to me—”
“Jillian, it’s not appropriate for a seventeen-year-old girl to be carrying around a flask even if it’s just a joke, so no, you’re not getting it back,” she replied. “Detention is in Mrs. Dupont’s room today,” she added dismissing me. I watched her drop Joan into the top drawer of her desk, turning the key to lock it once it was closed.
I could barely see through the moisture in my eyes as I left the room. It was so stupid to have taken it out inside the school. Well, it was stupid bringing it to school in the first place, but I needed it and now it was gone and I had no safety net. I was barreling back down the hall to hide in the restroom when I felt a tug on my arm.
“Jillian,” Luke asked, his brows furrowed, “what’s going on?”
I really didn’t want to be in the hallway when the waterworks started, but when I looked up at him, the flood gates opened and I began to cry.
“I fell and my bag opened and Joan…” I was so angry and upset that I couldn’t get the words straight. “You were right. I shouldn’t have brought it here. Now I’ve got detention, and I don’t even know what people do in detention.”
“It isn’t all that bad,” he replied, his face softening. “You do your homework. You sit quietly. You act sorry and then you go home.”
“It’s not just that. She confiscated my flask. It was a gift and it meant a lot to me. I know you think I’m stupid, but it’s important.”
“Listen. Yeah, I think naming your flask is a little ridiculous, but I never said I thought you were stupid,” he said looking at me intently again. “Come on. You need to get to class.” He placed his hand on my shoulder to steer me back down the hall.
“So I’ll see you after school with the rest of the burnouts,” he said, chuckling. “This time it’s my turn to save you a seat.” He moved a strand of hair away from my face. It was wet from my embarrassing breakdown.
“Hey,” he added, his voice soft and low, “smile.”
It seemed so cliché. Like the part of the movie when the cute boy tells the sad girl that everything is going to be all right and suddenly it is. He told me to smile and I did. But once he went off to class and I was left to fester, I began to panic. I was going to Tacoma tomorrow with Luke, and I’d be doing it without my liquid courage. That was unacceptable.
By the time the bell for dismissal rang, I felt like I was going to be sick. As I entered Mrs. Dupont’s classroom, I balked at how stereotypical the group in front of me was. There was a guy dressed in all black, carving something into the wood of his chair with a Swiss Army Knife. No one seemed to be paying attention to him. When he caught me staring, he leered at me. Apparently I was interrupting.
There was a guy and girl I recognized as juniors making out in the back of the classroom. She was sitting on one of the desks while he leaned over her, standing in between her legs. I think he was trying to vacuum her face off. I felt like I should pelt them with prophylactics and maybe some anti-bac soap.
Cody Adams was sitting front and center. He was the guy who tried to sell brownies and muffins laced with marijuana in the Senior Bake Sale. He thought it would be funny to get the whole class “baked at the Bake Sale.” But the brownies tasted so bad, everyone that bought them started throwing up all over the place. It was just like that scene in Stand By Me except everyone got the munchies afterward. I’d had an aversion to baked goods ever since. Thanks for that, Cody.
Luke was sitting by the windows, watching me survey the room. He quirked his head calling me over, as if I was going to sit any place else.
“It’s a freak show in here,” I whispered leaning in close.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I heard there’s a girl that talks to her flask.”
“Har, har,” I retorted. “You never told me why you were here anyway.”
“Pissed off Dupont last week,” he replied dismissively as he fidgeted with his pen. I noticed scabs on his knuckles.
“What happened to your hand?”
“Nothing,” he answered quickly. “Just from fixing my bike.” I thought there might be more to the story, but it was clear that Luke was not interested in telling me.
“So tomorrow,” I began. “Are we still going to Tacoma?”
“Do I have a choice?” he replied smirking. I was suddenly struck with a terrifying thought.
“We’re not going on your bike, are we?” There was no way I could handle riding on the back of Luke’s bike with my arms wrapped around his waist. Just smelling his smoky, minty goodness now was making me light-headed.
“Would that be a problem?” he asked clearly mocking me.
“Well, yes,” I stammered. “It’s just that…well…it would be…I mean, I…”
“Relax,” he said, interrupting my meltdown. “I have a car.”
“Oh. Right. Good,” I babbled ridiculously. “Not that the bike isn’t good. Just not in this instance.”
“So aside from replenishing your stash, we need to get you a new nameless flask,” he added while doodling on his notebook.
“I don’t want another flask. I want my flask,” I pouted. “It has sentimental value.” He got that same funny look on his face that I noticed in the cafeteria. I was about to ask him what was wrong when Mrs. Dupont walked in and instructed us to take out our homework and work silently. I tried to concentrate on my trig study sheet, but it
was really distracting sitting next to Luke. He, however, didn’t seem to have the same problem as he worked on some chemistry report.
Ten minutes before detention was over, I heard something hit the floor next to me. Looking at the ground, there was a balled up piece of paper. I looked at Luke and he made a slight motion for me to pick it up. Luke Chambers is passing me a note? Is he going to ask me to go steady and drive to Inspiration Point, too?
I grabbed the note off the floor and slowly flattened it out. Mrs. Dupont looked up, but I carried on as if I were arranging the papers on my desk. Inside I saw what Luke’s messy handwriting looked like. The note read:
Don’t ask any questions. When it happens, do what she says and don’t act suspicious.
I was about to ask him if Cody had offered him some baked goods when I noticed he was up at Mrs. Dupont’s desk asking to go to the restroom. How was I supposed to avoid acting suspicious when I had no idea what he was talking about?
Luke had been gone for about five minutes when the deafening sound of the fire alarm ripped through the school. He wouldn’t. Would he?
Mrs. Dupont seemed to lose her hard edge and nervously ushered us out of the building and over by the football field. From where I was standing, I saw Megan and Nate running on the track. Meg was wearing a tight t-shirt and sweat pants while Nate had on loose track shorts and a tank top. I couldn’t believe I was missing all of the action. I couldn’t see Luke anywhere.
Since it was already three-thirty, Mrs. Dupont dismissed our motley little group so I headed to the track, confused by what had happened. I found Danielle and Josh sitting on the bleachers.
“It’s the badass herself,” Josh greeted, his arm slung around Danielle’s shoulder.
“That’s me,” I mused sarcastically. “So fill me in.” I looked out at the field. Meg had somehow removed her sweats and was now running in her sports bra and bike shorts. Nate was shirtless.
“It’s like some bizarre mating ritual,” Danielle began in a low voice. “They won’t stop doing laps, and they’re slowly stripping off all of their clothes. One more lap and we may have to call the cops.”
“So, is someone winning?” I asked leaning against the railing.
“I don’t think there’ll be any losers here,” Josh laughed.
“So, you got an early reprieve,” Danielle added. “We heard the alarm. Someone try to blow up the chem lab?”
“I’m not sure what happened. I think Luke might have done it, but I don’t know where he went.”
“Why would you think Luke had anything to do with it?” she asked curiously.
“He passed me the most ridiculous note. I swear he watches too many spy movies because it was way too cryptic.”
“Wait,” she interrupted with a raised brow. “You were passing notes with Luke Chambers in detention?”
“Well, not really,” I argued. “Just one note.” I felt silly justifying it, but I didn’t want Danielle thinking something was going on when it wasn’t. Val would be asking him to the prom any day now, and I didn’t want Danielle to get her hopes up that Luke and I would end up together. It just wasn’t meant to happen.
“There he is,” Danielle said motioning to the bottom of the bleachers. I watched him as he climbed up the stairs two at a time and stopped next to me.
“Well hello, Luke,” Danielle greeted. I could tell she thought he had come because of me, and she was feeling smug. Clearly, he had wanted to see Nate and Megan’s showdown.
“You know, detention was going to be over in another ten minutes,” I teased. “You didn’t have to go to such extreme measures to spring us.”
He flashed me a mischievous smile, dug into his coat pocket and tossed my sparkly pink flask into my hands.
I was shocked, almost speechless. “What? How?” Luke shrugged.
“I went back after everyone was gone. She left her desk unlocked. Scored a cool lighter,” he replied, casually twirling a black lighter with red flames around his fingers.
I couldn’t believe it. He had pulled the fire alarm and evacuated the school to get my flask back. No one had ever done anything like that for me before. Overcome with emotion, I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. However, once I felt him up against me, I realized what a mistake I had made. I was grateful, but I didn’t want him thinking I was throwing myself at him…even though I kind of was. Obviously surprised, Luke seemed to struggle with what to do with his hands for a moment before I felt them settle lightly on my hips. It felt really nice—too nice. I needed to keep it casual so I pulled away quickly.
“Sorry,” I began trying to sound light and breezy, “I didn’t mean to attack you. I just can’t believe you did this.”
“All in a day’s work, Cross,” he replied sarcastically. Something told me he was trying to keep it light and breezy too, but that strange expression was back on his face. “I’m taking off,” he finally added. “Meet me here tomorrow at noon?”
“Absolutely,” I replied watching him slowly walk back down the steps, lighting a cigarette once he reached the bottom. I looked down at Danielle after Luke had left.
“I can’t believe you don’t see it,” she said in a serious tone.
“Is this about prom again?” I whined. I had just gotten Joan back. I didn’t want to fight about prom right now.
“No. Not prom, Jillian,” she shook her head and looked away. “Wow. You really don’t.”
There was one thing I did know—things were the way they should be. I was standing next to Danielle and Josh in the bleachers, watching Megan and Nate running neck-and-neck around the track. Just as she would pull ahead, Nate would bow his head and push forward catching up. I think in the battle of distractions, Megan’s sports bra was winning.
I thought about how I had only been back in high school for a week, and I had made so much progress despite my minor setback with Joan today. I thought about the black and white picture of Luke on Facebook and the boy I had come to know. It would sting too much witnessing Val asking him to the prom knowing that she would most likely attack him on prom night. It shouldn’t bother me, but it really did. I thought about That Jillian and what she would be doing right now instead.
The lines were getting blurred and it was getting harder and harder to differentiate between the things I should change and the things I shouldn’t. No matter which way I looked at it though, I couldn’t shake the feeling.
Luke should not go to the prom with Val.
CHAPTER 8
Luke
Something didn’t seem right. I was alone behind the gym, which was weird because that never happened anymore. She was always with me. And for the first time in a long time, I felt restless instead of relaxed. The wooded area behind the school was replaced with a field of flowers growing in small patches. The sweet scent reminded me of whatever kind of perfume she wore.
Where the hell is she?
I stood up to leave and suddenly saw her leaning against the wall, watching me. She was wearing the red lipstick that had been driving me insane all week. It matched the little shirt she wore and it was already making me feel that uncomfortable tightening in my chest. She had a funny smirk on her face, and I was just about to ask her where the hell she’d been when she spoke.
“I can prove that you’re full of shit, you know,” she said looking cocky and smug.
“Oh, really?” I challenged, watching her red lips.
“Really,” she responded walking towards me, dragging her finger along the wall as she moved. I twisted and leaned my shoulder against the building, waiting for her to explain. She stopped, leaning in to face me. I could feel the heat from her breath as she spoke.
“You tease me for naming my flask. You tease me for naming my car. But I’m willing to bet there’s something that you’ve named,” she added as her eyes darted below to the zipper on my jeans. She looked back into my eyes, daring me to respond. My heart started to race, and I choked out a cough.
Jillian was talking ab
out my dick.
While I was more than willing to discuss this topic with her at great length, I was taken aback by the direction of the conversation, so to speak.
“All guys do, don’t they?” she asked arching an eyebrow.
“Only the douchebags,” I retorted trying to appear unaffected.
“I could help you,” she offered, looking up at me from under her long lashes.
“What are you talking about?” I managed to ask. I was starting to breathe heavy.
“Think of a name. I’m good at it,” she added as her tongue quickly wet her lips. “Naming things, I mean. But there are a few things I need to know.” I knew there’d be no turning back if I answered her. I knew I shouldn’t engage her, but I wanted her too much.
“Like what?”
“Well, there are things I need to know in order to think of the perfect name. Take my flask, for example. I know how it looks,” she began as she ran her hand down my arm and positioned herself in front of me. “It looks….enticing. I know how it feels,” she continued, resting the palms of both hands on my chest. “It feels hard and rough.”
I was working so hard to regulate my breathing, but I could hear myself practically panting. “I know how it tastes,” she whispered in my ear before slowly lowering herself so that she rested on her knees in front of me. “It tastes…delicious.”
My as-yet-unnamed dick was already reacting to her presence. While this wasn’t something I expected from Jillian, I couldn’t deny the fact that the sight of her on her knees in front of me was un-freaking-believable. But this couldn’t happen.
“Jillian…” I warned.
“If you don’t want my help, just say so, Luke,” she interrupted. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for the button on my jeans. It slowly popped open and her eyes moved from mine to the open fabric in front of her. I held my breath as she reached for the zipper, but before she was able to grab it, I heard a snicker. I panicked looking around wildly and saw Nate and Megan sitting in director’s chairs by the path leading to the parking lot.
Living Backwards Page 8