by L. Jayne
There are only two different groups to girls that I’m usually with: the hook-ups or the girls that I see as friends. There are the girls that I sleep with after getting drunk off my ass and the ones that all look the same to me. There are the girls that I’ve known since elementary and would never try anything with them, the ones that I would ever respect.
As Stacey pulls me aside in the corner to kiss me and run her hands under my shirt, I don’t feel the fire fuelling my other endeavours. Her taste in my mouth is too sweet, sort of like cherry bubble gum.
“Hey, what’s up?” She pulls away, her red lips pouting slightly. “You’re not into it.”
I smile. “Sorry, just thinking about some things.” I pull her closer and give her one last kiss, drawing it out longer, making her look a bit tipsy and heady as I pull back.
“Mmm,” she says and licks her lips. “You want to come over afterschool today--?”
This relationship is off bounds to getting closer than planned. I cut her off. “Nope, too busy today. Maybe some other day?” I send her one of my smiles, trying to coax her out of a frown. I move out of the corner, doing the buttons on my shirt. “But I’ll see you later.”
“Fine,” Stacey says, her blue eyes contemptuous.
I leave her, walking down to class, contemplating about whether or not Stacey will last another week, when someone intercepts my path. It’s that guy, Avena’s stoner friend, the one that I saw dancing with Jessica Langley. Hayden Nighton.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” He demands, getting closer. He smells faintly like pot smoke.
“What?” I say lazily.
He grits his teeth. “You heard me.”
I shrug, knowing that it’ll only make him angrier. “Hey. Who said that I’ve done anything?”
“Do you know how out of it she was?” He pushes into my space, his face only a few centimetres from mine. “She was dead drunk.”
“I don’t have anything to do with it,” I reply, lifting an eyebrow. “I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”
“Hell right.” Nighton looks pissed. “You were with her when she ran downstairs, crying. So don’t try to--”
“Not my problem.” I shrug again, turning to go but he shoves me so that I take a step back.
I turn around, sensing the tension. If he wants a fight, he’d have a fight. Fast, I move in close and push him back, so hard that Nighton stumbles a bit, and his back hits the set of lockers.
He doesn’t back down yet. “Is that all you’ve got?” He taunts.
“We’ll see about that,” I suggest.
A circle is formed around us, some watching, others cheering. He lunges. I hear a gasp as we crash onto the floor, his hand forming a fist. It’s a solid and hard punch, landing on the nose and I wince, feeling the blood drip down my face. He rolls on top of me and I push him off me with my feet, both of us swearing loudly.
Grabbing the front of his shirt, I shove him into the corner. He tries to hit me again but I deflect his blow and punch him hard in the face. Nighton groans, pinching his nose to stop the flow of blood. “You son of a bitch,” he spits. Wiping the blood from my split lip, I smile sardonically.
“You’re right.”
I release him, making him stagger back and sag down the wall. The earlier pleasure of violence has dissipated, leaving behind a raw taste in my mouth.
“So do you care about her?”
His quiet voice drifts to me. His eyes are derisive.
“Care?” I laugh. “Care is a word I’ll never know.”
Ψ Ψ Ψ
AVENA
It’s in Biology when I hear the two girls chattering in front of me about something that had happened earlier. “Did you see his black eye?” Fiona Lee said to her friend, her eyes wide. “I swear, I can’t believe it.”
“Have you heard why though?” Denise interjected.
“Something about a party. Must be over a hook-up.” She sighs. “I wish I had two hot guys fighting over me. Whew.”
“Adrian is so out of your league,” her friend teases her.
I stiffen, in mid-stop writing, my pencil arched in the air.
“Psh,” Fiona says, poking Denise in the side, “he already had his fill of almost all the girls in this school. For the second time around, it’d be me.”
Denise laughs. “You wish.”
They get silenced by a swift glare from Mrs. Gallen and meekly go back to doing the equations on the board. I focus my energy onto the questions but I find myself wondering what they were talking about earlier.
The class passes by quickly and I spring out of my seat, rushing off to the dining hall, feeling like something is very, very wrong.
I’m down the mess hall when I hear my name being shouted behind me.
“Wait!”
It’s Kara’s voice.
I turn around and stop in my tracks. Kara has an arm around Hayden, half-supporting him. I blink and focus on his face. It’s swelling heavily and there are bruises splotches down his cheek. Drying blood is still on his face and he’s leaning on her.
“Oh, God,” I say and rush to him. Blood smears his white shirt.
Kara and I get him to the empty commons where he collapses on one of the fluffy couches and closes his eyes. My eyes cut to Kara and understanding washes over me.
“He didn’t,” I say, looking at her and she sighs in exasperation.
“He did. Manly Guy here decided to pick a fight with Huntington.”
I feel the growing pit in my stomach and then predictably, I get angry as I turn to Hayden’s blue eyes half-watching us. “Jesus, I told you, Hayden, to leave that shit alone!”
He doesn’t reply, his arm slung over his eyes.
Kara looks sharply at me. “What happened with you and Huntington?” She asks sharply.
I exhale. “Just a chain of events that should never have been triggered.”
There’s silence.
The perplexity changes to red hot anger as I watch Hayden’s bruised face. I clench my hands tightly, almost shaking. My voice is abrupt. “I swear, I’m going to find that asshole and make him pay.”
Kara protests, trying to pull me down but through the haze, I can’t see much. I wrench out of her hold and march through the commons to an open-aired corridor. Where can he be? He’s got to be around somewhere.
I look around a couple of classrooms but he’s vanished. Then I go out the back door out to the courtyard where a scattering of students are lounging on the grass under the sun. There, I see Adrian lying under a tree, smoking and flipping through a worn out notebook titled Added Scripts when I get closer.
He looks up, looking bored, taking the cigarette from his mouth. I notice his puffy lip, red and puffed up eye. “What do you want?” His voice is low.
“Hayden’s badly hurt,” I spit out harshly.
He slowly smiles. And that just makes me want to punch him so hard that even plastic surgery won’t fix his face. My hand shakes, itching to do so. “And…?” He replies.
“Cut the crap, Adrian,” I say, moving closer to him so that I can jab my finger into his chest. He flicks his eyes over my movement but says nothing. “You don’t want to push me.”
Adrian looks nothing short of amused. “Really?”
Within seconds, I reach over and slap him. He doesn’t move, just looks at me warily. “If that’s it, I have to go to class,” he says.
“I’ll never forgive you for hurting him,” I say quietly and walk away but not before his hand snakes out and grabs my arm.
I give him a murderous look. “I’m giving you ten seconds to let go.”
His grip on me is not slacking. “He was the one who attacked me first.” His expression is unreadable. “And what’s he to you?”
I glare at him. “That’s none of your business.”
His crystal green eyes are trained on me. The way that he’s looking at me just makes me crazy. We are still for a moment, his hand wrapped around my arm, me staring at him
. The wind ruffles my hair into my eyes but I don’t care. All of this, shoved at me is all of a sudden overwhelming.
“Let go,” I repeat, deathly quiet.
“No,” he says.
I suddenly explode at him.
“Let go!” My voice turns into a shriek. Students sitting on the far bench turn to look at me.
His eyes reflect my pain. “I’m not letting you go.”
The words hit me blindly and I nearly reel. Memories of her crash into me, her white translucent skin, her weak smile that’s crumbling. My hand firmly holding hers, my heart going all directions as a knife of pure grief slices me in half.
I find myself being eaten by the depth of his gaze. It seems like there is a question in his eyes that I can’t figure out. He looks at me like he never had before. His eyes are full of something I’m even afraid to put a name to. His eyes are full of emotions that I barely hear anything besides us.
The pain comes back to me, at full-force.
Tears burn my eyes, reluctantly, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to restrain from crying.
He stares at me and suddenly, his expression changes and softens. My body starts to shake as I sob soundlessly and I drop to my knees, huddling on the ground. Everything swarms around me, little black dots dancing dizzily along my vision.
It isn’t just that Hayden got into a fight because of me. It’s everything. It is Adrian and the confusion and the mix-ups, the cloud over my head that haunts me everywhere I go. But mostly it is the reminder of Mom’s sudden death and the miserable feeling that constantly is there. It is my dad’s shell of his own self, more and more delving into work, and becoming absent. It’s the uncertainty and the pain and the terrible hole inside my chest that can’t be rid of, always cracking open and each time, grinding a little piece of it to pieces.
It’s the fact that I feel like I’m in a black hole, with only one way out and I’m seeking the exit but so lost…
You can only cope for so long before the illusion shatters.
My breaths come out in harsh gasping of air. My chest hurts, my entire body hurts.
I’m numb now even as Adrian pulls me to him, holding me. His shirt rubs against my cheek and his familiar spiced scent sends another surge of fury.
“Don’t!” I scream at him, my throat raw. I push him away, lashing out fiercely but he just keeps on holding me, closing his eyes. He stays silent, letting me keep on beating him until I slump over under the weight of it all. He holds me while I sob.
Exhausted, I let the familiar numbness engulf me.
“Avena,” Adrian murmurs into my hair. My name sounds calming in his voice.
His honeydew green eyes look into me and I am immobile, staring back into the depths. I see something in there, something that we’re surrounded by.
Then realization comes over me. It’s security. But how can I be safe with the one person I distrust the most? It’s like I’ve entered a parallel world. Everything is too mixed up to comprehend.
I’m confused. What am I doing? “I can’t,” I say and pull away from him.
He looks at me, eyes half-lidded.
“I-I’ve got to go.”
Before he can reach me, I duck out of his arms and spin into the afternoon, confused and dizzy. I don’t dare look back.
chapter ten
AVENA
I’ve spent the night tossing and turning, not able to get the image and scent of Adrian out of my head. I’ve tried my best to not let him in but it was also difficult to keep him out. The following morning passes as a blur of activity for me. I have my English exam coming up and I’d spent the entire week studying Shakespeare’s Macbeth.
I’m in line for lunch, my stomach growling because I skipped breakfast. All I had today was vitamin water and a few crackers. Today’s special is pasta with pesto sauce, garlic bread and mashed potatoes. I eye the spaghetti with its goopy speckled sauce and decide to play it safe with the half-cooked lasagne. Then I hear a voice behind me, a low and raspy smoker’s voice that I immediately identified as Graham’s, Kara’s ex. I look back and see him talking to his friend, both of them guffawing. “—She got so pissed when I told her that I slept with the chick once that she threw a shoe at me.” His friend mutters something and he replies with, “I mean, I was smashed and I needed a hit so I guess…but that whore was hot--”
I turn fast to shoot him a glare. “If you’re talking about Kara, you better shut up right about now.”
The guy lifts his stoner eyes to squint at me. Once he got over his initial surprise, he says, “And what if I am?”
I remember Kara crying in the backseat, her pain mirroring mine. Maybe it’s the tiredness that’s been haunting me but I snap. “You have no right to be talking about my friend that way.”
His friend mocks me in a snippy voice and Graham laughs. “So how are you going to make me?” Why did Kara fall for such a classic douchebag?
In a flash, without thinking, I grab my ready lasagne and whip the entire steaming dinner at his face. With a cry, he goes down, clutching his reddening face as meatballs slide down his hair. “Fucking bitch!” He spits at me, trying to push me. I’m getting ready to fight him when a voice interrupts us.
“The bitch that you’re talking about is with me.”
Adrian comes up from behind me.
I sputter irritably, “I’m not with you--”
Both just ignore me. Graham blinks and does a slow skater shake of the head. “Whatever, man.” He tries not to look defeated as he ushers himself out of the lunch line.
I feel angry as I turn to look at Adrian. I can handle my own fights without looking like a helpless girl in front of the whole school. “Hey! I don’t need you to swoop in just like that! I’m not one of your ‘damsels in distress’ girlfriends” I scowl at him. “I don’t need rescuing.”
Adrian is still watching me intently as if trying to find my hidden meaning in those words, his green eyes disconcerting. “Don’t you?” He says in this soft voice and I know that he’s not talking about this but the other day when I broke down in front of him.
I tug myself away, remembering him holding me and the memory burns. “If you think that your being so charming and sensitive is going to work on me, tough luck there, buddy.”
Adrian half-smiles. “I’m not putting on an act here.”
“Yes, you are!” I say, staring defiantly at him.
He leans in so that his breath is at my ear. “So what if I am?”
Annoyed, I push him away. “You’re just so--”
“Shh,” he coaxes, pressing a finger to my lips. I scowl.
“Really, what are you trying to pull here?” I finally push off his arm and glare at him then his friends watching us like we’re on some stupid soap show. Valerie Fieldings, the girl I’d met earlier in the library is gazing at us in a peculiar way.
A smirk edges along the side of his mouth. “I know that you have feelings for me, monkey. Don’t deny them.” His voice is like melting butter.
I stare, gape-mouthed, at him. Finally, I burst out, “Are you out of your mind?”
Losing my appetite, I start toward the exit doors before I get pulled back by his hand.
“Don’t leave yet.”
“What right do you have to boss me around?” I snap.
“Shut up and listen.” His voice is calm and cool.
“You want to get into another fight?” I smile sweetly at him. “Or do you want to let the hell go of me and we’ll pretend this never happened?”
Adrian laughs, his lips quirked up as he watches me.
“Let me just make one thing clear.” I narrow my eyes. “I’m never, ever going to date you, Huntington. In fact, I’ll rather just contract HIV instead of just getting it from you. Point short: I don’t have feelings for you.” I enunciate each word carefully.
Adrian’s laugh turns into a suave grin. “Well, monkey, all you need to do is persuade me, not yourself.”
I hesitate for a second before stub
bornness takes place. “What do I have to do?” I ask defiantly.
“Kiss me.” His eyes are mockingly teasing me.
Valerie steps up. “Adrian, this is going too far--”
“If she says she doesn’t then she needs to prove it,” he cuts her off.
The blood rushes to my face as anger flares in me. When he steps forward, I also take a step until our faces are only centimetres away. I don’t want to feel it. I just want to keep my distance. But now, this whole scene is a challenge and if I back down, I’ll forever remain a coward.
All resistance melts away until all there’s left is a heavy determination. It’s what makes me step closer to him, grab his shirt, and pull him to me so that our faces almost touch.
“This is more like it,” Adrian whispers in my ear, his breath ruffling my hair.
“Just shut up,” I hiss.
Moving closer, I can see the individual green flecks of his eyes. Then I stand on my toes and slowly inch up until all I can see is his face.
Our eyes lock.
Then he says, “Nevermind.” With an easy smirk, he lets me go with my cheeks burning. “You passed the test.”
Now I’m the one gawking after him, baffled, as he walks it out.
Boiling inside, I clench my hands. That guy…I swear. He’s playing with me!
Ψ Ψ Ψ
Autumn is really here. I can see it in the window that is the gray sky, the withering trees and the reddish brown leaves being raked over as I pass the open-aired corridor to my calculus class. As I walk in the room and sit in my seat in the back, there is a note left for me lying on my desk with scrawled letters Meet me at the beach at five.
I throw the note away. If he thinks that I’d actually go, then he’s an idiot.
Hayden gives me a ride home and in the car, tension blooms. He still has a bruise on his cheek and I touch it gingerly and he winces slightly. “Hurts?” I ask.
“Nah. Just sore,” he says.
“The living undead is still alive,” I remark as he turns the radio on and proceeds to relax.
He turns his gaze to me. “I heard Huntington challenged you to kiss him at lunch a couple of days ago.”