I groan. “Stop being sweet. This Kyle is too much for me.”
He chuckles. “Never.”
I take a bite of my sandwich to hide my smile. “You were born to drive me crazy, weren’t you?”
“No, I was born to be a police officer, but being able to hang out with you and drive you crazy is a plus. What a perfect life I have.” He slides his plate up the table. “Now, what do I need to do for you to take my next question seriously?”
“Not ask it.”
He laughs. “Seriously. Don’t immediately answer. I know your lips are set to an automatic no whenever I ask you to do something.”
“Incoming question is now scaring the shit out of me.”
He inhales a deep breath. “Want to go on a double date with Gage and Lauren?”
Wow, I was expecting something along the lines of trying anal.
Not that.
Shoot, maybe I’d rather him ask me about anal.
“Uh …” I draw out. “We’re not dating, let alone double dating.”
“What makes you think we aren’t dating? Is neighbor-fucking a regular thing for you?”
“Possibly.”
His questions are throwing me off my game.
“Bullshit.”
I give him a forced glare. “Excuse me, how do you know what I do with my personal life?”
“I know you.”
I snort. “You know nothing about me, Kyle Lane.”
His voice softens. “Then, tell me more about you.”
“Hard pass.”
He laughs. “Looks like we need to work our way up to having a serious a conversation. We’ve had sex, but God forbid, we get into a too-personal conversation.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me.”
He groans. “You confuse me.”
“Then, let me spell it out for you. This is sex. No dating. You should know this. I’ve seen the women coming and going from here. You do casual sex. If you want to keep doing this”—I gesture between the two of us—“casual is what we have to be. We’re casually hanging out, which means no double dating.”
“Fine, then have a casual hang-out with Lauren and Gage.”
I frown. “They hate me.” That should save me from his little group date … hang-out.
“They don’t.”
My frown stays intact. “They should, considering I was going to publish a story about her.”
“Lauren doesn’t hate anyone, except for any girl who touches Gage and his ex-wife. And you’re neither one of those. We never told her about the story. Only Gage knows, and eventually, he’ll warm up to you.”
“Warm up to me? That’s convincing.”
“Trust me; he’s grateful you didn’t publish the story.” He tickles my side, causing me to laugh. “So, what do you say, Fieldgain? You. Me. Casually hanging out with friends.”
“I’ll think about it.”
He grins.
“Hey now, that’s not me agreeing to it.”
He grins wider. “We shall see, dear neighbor.”
13
Chloe
Age Fifteen
I toss my backpack on my bed and do a happy dance.
I got asked to the homecoming dance.
Me!
The poor girl with the junkie mother, the absent father, and sister knocked up with an illegitimate son was asked to the homecoming dance.
Holy yay!
This weekend, I’m forgetting about my crappy life. This weekend, I won’t be the girl living in filth—well, what filth I can’t clean. This weekend, I won’t be the outsider who yearns to fit in but is unable to afford every puzzle piece.
I wasn’t just asked. I was asked by Kyle Lane. The hottest and coolest guy wants to go out with the class loner. I was shocked when he asked. We’d only spoken a few times, and those were to compare test scores.
This is going to be the best day of my life.
All my homecoming excitement ends when I tell my mother.
“Why would a boy invite you to the dance?” she snarls, as if it were the most disturbing idea in the world. “He must want to get in your panties.”
“Or he might like me,” I snap.
She snorts and takes another drink of vodka.
I hate my mother and don’t care if I’m judged for it. You don’t have to like someone because you’re related.
An hour later, my mom passes out in her bedroom, and I play with Trey on the floor.
“I’m sorry about Mom,” Claudia says, surprising me. “It’s no fun when she treats you like a whore. She’s done it to me all my life, too.”
I rise up onto my knees. “Did you ever go to a high school dance?”
“A few times, yes.”
A twinge of jealousy hits me, and I bite into my bottom lip. “How did you afford the dresses?”
“I stole them.”
I briefly consider this.
“You can’t pull off shoplifting, Chloe. You’re too obvious.”
“Maybe I’ll find some fabric and make my own.”
She reclines in her chair and crosses her arms. “I’ll try to pull something together for you, okay?”
I nod, knowing I shouldn’t agree to my sister stealing something for me, but this might be the biggest night of my life.
I’m searching the couch cushions for spare change to purchase fabric from the store. Our neighbor said I could borrow her sewing machine. I taught myself to use it a few years ago to fix the holes in my clothes, and eventually, I even made a baby blanket for Trey.
“Hey there, Chloe.”
His voice surprises me. I drop the cushion to find Sam with a shopping bag in his hand.
“Hi,” I say.
Normally, I’m excited to see him, but he hasn’t been around lately, and there’s not even one penny in the couch. There’s no way I’ll find enough money for fabric.
“Your sister said you got asked to the dance this weekend.”
I brightly smile until I remember my lack of funds. “I did, but I’m not going.”
“Why? Isn’t every teenage girl’s dream to go to homecoming?”
I bite into my lip as tears swell in my eyes. “I don’t …” I lower my gaze in embarrassment. “I can’t afford a dress.”
He holds up the bag. “Lucky for you, I’m here to solve that problem.”
“Really?” A few tears fall down my cheek, and I blink them away, making certain this is real.
No one has ever done anything this kind for me.
He hands me the bag. “Go try it on to make sure it fits. Your sister wasn’t sure about your size.”
I grab the bag, race to my bedroom, and drag the dress from the bag. I run my hands over it and admire the sparkly pink fabric. It feels and looks expensive. I inspect the tag. Holy wow. It is expensive. I hold it against my chest and squeal in excitement. Also in the bag is a pair of silver flats decorated with pink stars and a heart necklace.
This will be the best night ever.
I put my dress on, tying it around my neck, and hurry into the living room. Claudia and Sam are waiting for me. She’s on the couch, and he’s standing in the corner, his hands in his black dress slacks. He never sits down, like he thinks we’re contaminated and he’ll catch something.
“I love it!” I say, rushing over to him.
He seems surprised when I wrap my arms around him but loosens up and hugs me back, patting my shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
“Cute. Not my style but whatever,” Claudia comments when I pull away.
“Shut the hell up, Claudia,” he snaps, taking me aback, and he straightens out his shirt.
Claudia slams her mouth shut and rolls her eyes.
“Thank you so much,” I tell him.
“You’re welcome.” He shoots Claudia a dirty look. “You look very pretty.” He points at me. “Remember, boys are bad.”
“I’m fifteen,” I answer. “I don’t need to worry about boys.”
Claudia glowers at Sam. “High
school boys are never who you need to worry about.”
Sam ignores her comment, shoots me a smile, and then leaves.
I jump up and down and smile at Claudia. “Thank you so, so, so much for asking him to buy me a dress.”
She smiles back. “It’s no problem. Don’t tell Mom, okay?”
“I won’t! Gosh, I wish I had a boyfriend like Sam. He’s so cool and nice.”
She frowns. “You need to be careful around him, Chloe.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sam isn’t as perfect as he leads on, okay? We only know him in this trailer. Otherwise, he doesn’t exist to us.”
I don’t ask her what she means. I don’t want the moment to be ruined.
Tonight has been nothing short of a fairy tale. I’ve pinched myself to confirm it’s not a dream.
I didn’t want Kyle to see where I lived, so I had him meet me at the school instead of picking me up. We went to dinner and then rode back to school in a limo—a freaking white limousine! I felt like a movie star.
Kyle introduced me to his friends. I’ve received a few dirty looks from cheerleaders, but it won’t kill my high of tonight. He asked me to the dance, not them.
Kyle holds his hand out. “Take a walk with me.”
I nod and try to mask the excitement barreling through me.
Looking so handsome in his suit, he can ask me anything right now, and I’ll say yes.
Can I have a kidney?
Yes!
Will you sell me your soul?
Duh!
I wipe my sweaty hands down my dress before taking his, and he leads us off our gym’s makeshift dance floor. The room is filled with pink streamers, and the DJ has played “Cha Cha Slide” three times too many. Wandering eyes follow our every step as we make our way outside, and I’m surprised when he walks us to the football field.
We don’t stop until we’re in the center of the field, and he stares at me under the bright stadium lights before taking my other hand, too. “Can I kiss you, Chloe?”
“Yes,” I answer with no delay. I lick my lips.
We’re going to kiss!
Best. Freaking. Night. Ever!
He releases my hands and steps closer, so close that our lips are already nearly touching.
“Is this your first kiss?”
I swallow. “No.”
I don’t ask him the same. The stories of his player ways roam through the hallways more than students running late to class, and I’ve spotted him sucking face with his fair share of cheerleaders. He’s experienced. There’s no question about it—as experienced as a high school guy can be. I won’t put my money on him being Claudia-level experienced.
I play off more confidence than I have. Our kiss will be my second. My first was with Marvin, the boy down the road. His tongue was sloppy, and his breath smelled like Cheetos—not a good time. I should’ve known a kiss with a boy named after a Martian would be nothing to party about.
Kissing Kyle will be different, not sloppy or gross. The girls I’ve seen him with always seem to be enjoying themselves and look far from grossed out.
Kyle stares down at me with a genuine smile, and all the anxiousness inside me melts away.
“You’re adorable when you’re nervous.”
“It’s so not adorable,” I mutter. More like pathetic. Who’s afraid of a kiss?
Goose bumps prick my skin when he cups my chin in his hand and drags my face up until we’re making strong eye contact. He grins before tilting his head down, and then he softly presses his lips against mine.
It’s perfect.
His lips are like super-soft pillows.
He slightly pulls away to eye me, awaiting my reaction, and when I stare at him, practically panting, he leans in for another kiss. He slides his tongue inside my mouth this time, and I gasp before doing the same.
No Cheetos breath on this guy.
He tastes like peppermint and spiked fruit punch.
I lose track of how long we make out before he stops to sit on the grass and pulls me down with him. My dress hikes up, and I know it’s getting dirty. Briefly, I wonder how hard it will be to clean off grass stains because I am so keeping this dress for the rest of my life.
He gives me one last kiss before lowering me onto my back. He moves on top of me, holding himself up with his arm. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” I say in surprise.
I spread my legs for him to adjust himself between them, and my heart races when he lightly brushes strands of my hair off my shoulder. He plants kisses along my neck before dropping his mouth down to my cleavage.
“Your skin is so soft,” he mutters, sucking the exposed skin between my breasts before cupping one in his hand.
My dress lifts more, and when I move to situate it, his pants-covered erection slides against my core.
Holy crap.
I’ve never experienced anything like this, never felt this tingling between my legs. I tilt my hips up to meet his, wanting more.
Okay, maybe he’s more experienced than I thought.
He lets out a low moan before pressing against me, and his lips meet mine again.
His hands anchor around my hips. I thrust upward while he rocks against me over and over again as we make out on the field. I slightly pull away when his metal belt buckle hits my core.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks, pulling away and catching his breath.
I shake my head, and with unsteady hands, I unbuckle his belt. I settle myself on my back against the grass when I’m finished and smile. “Much better.”
He grins, and our next kiss is rougher. His movements are more hurried as he pushes my dress up to my waist and exposes me, my red panties on display for him. After I fail to lower his pants with my feet, he pushes them down his thighs. We’re so close that his breaths are hitting mine. My breathing is ragged when his erection under his boxers slides against my panties. My heart is racing like I ran a mile in gym class.
His fingers hook around the side of my panties, but he suddenly stops. “Have you done this before?” He peeks down at me with bright green eyes.
Am I that obvious?
“Does it matter?” I whisper.
He flinches and rests his hands on my thighs. “I’m not taking your virginity on a football field, Chloe.”
I was so worked up that I forgot we were in public. Not just in public, but at our freaking school. Who dry-humps someone at school?
“It’s … it’s okay,” I assure, struggling to keep my voice strong. What are you thinking? Your sister was a pregnant teen! “You have a condom, right?”
He keeps staring, contemplating his next move, and I rock against him to convince him to pop my cherry.
“Are you sure about this?”
I nod. “As long as you have protection.”
“I do.”
I miss his touch when he pulls away to grab his wallet, and the sound of him opening the condom cuts through our heavy breathing.
Then, that sound is overtaken by shrills of laughter.
“Holy fucking shit, ladies and gentlemen! Get a load of this! Lane is about to fuck Little Miss Trailer Trash!”
Kyle jerks my dress down and stands to pull his pants up before holding his hand out to me. I glare at him before moving my attention to the crowd around me. My chest tightens with embarrassment. My fellow classmates, clad in their formal attire, are pointing and laughing at me. They’re holding their cell phones in my direction, no doubt recording my humiliation. The flashes of cameras nearly blind me.
I’m collapsed in the middle of the football field in a wrinkled, dirty dress, and the condom Kyle planned to wear while taking my virginity is lying beside me. There will be photographic evidence of this forever.
Tears prick at my eyes while the insults continue.
“I can’t believe you’d touch her!” a girl yells. “Haven’t you seen her sister? She has, like, ninety STDs. You can get them from sharing a toilet, you know.”
&nb
sp; “Now, I know why he asked her to the dance!” another shouts.
“We knew you could do it, man! See, there’s no stick up her ass, only your cock!” adds another.
More laughter erupts.
I cover my face in embarrassment, forcing myself to breathe, and tears stream down my cheeks. I kick off my flats, jump up, and sprint away from them with Kyle on my trail, screaming my name. When we’re out of earshot from the mocking crowd, I whip around and face him.
“Chloe,” he says, taking a hesitant step forward.
I bend down at the waist and catch my breath while holding my hand out to stop him. “You stay away from me.”
“Let me explain.”
“No. You’re like the rest of them.”
I push him, and while he catches his step, I take off running in the opposite direction. I go this way to school every day, so I can walk it with my eyes closed. When I hear his steps and voice still calling my name, I duck behind a bush. I wait until I only hear the leaves rustling with the wind before standing up and starting the walk home.
I sniffle and wipe my eyes with every step.
I’m naive and stupid.
The loser never gets the fairy tale.
She gets the nightmare.
I’m ten minutes away from home when a car pulls up behind me.
My back goes straight while I contemplate whether to take off running or turn around.
This is it.
Straight out of a horror movie, this will be the night of my death. I say a silent prayer when I hear a door slam. Even if I wanted to make a run for it, my feet don’t want to move.
“Chloe!”
I whip around and zero in on the man headed in my direction. My heart pounds, but as he moves closer, I grow more comfortable.
“What are you doing out here?” he yells when he’s steps away. “You’re going to get yourself run over!”
I wipe away my never-ending tears, and my body trembles when I blow out a shaky breath. “I … I don’t want to talk about it.”
Sam stops and stares down at me. “What were you thinking?” He takes me in. He shoots a glance toward his car running, and then his attention moves back to me. “Come on. I’ll take you home, but you can’t say a fucking word. Do you hear me?” His face is laced with concern, but his voice is harsh.
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