by L A Cotton
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I smiled weakly at Paul. He shuffled his feet and opened his mouth to say something but decided against it and just smiled back. Then he said, "I heard Chad Decker's off the team."
My whole body stiffened and Elena narrowed her eyes at me from underneath Tyson's arm.
"Something about an injury. The team will miss him in defense. That guy is like a wall. Sure they have Pie- hmm, I mean, umm…” Paul sputtered, his eyes looking any way but at me. “…other defensive players, but Chad was like a steel wall."
"Dude, you said that already," Tyson grunted.
My feet carried me forward, but I was battling with the memories that wanted to burst through the fortress containing them. Shut it out; shut them all out.
Elena discreetly reached for my hand and squeezed it. I managed to force a smile, suddenly wondering if the game was such a good idea, after all.
"Portland is tough. We might not win, not without Deck-"
"Oh look, they painted." Elena stumbled over her lame distraction, but I owed her.
"Baby, did I ever tell you that you're a little bit loco." Tyson squeezed her waist and Elena dropped my hand, busy attending to her guy.
"Seriously you two, you're like fucking rabbits. I have to listen to that shit all night; can I at least get a break in public?" Paul moaned.
Tyson turned his head slightly, laughing. "Jealous?"
Paul's eyes flashed to me, but I dropped my head to avoid eye contact. He kept saying he could be there for me just as a friend, but his actions were saying something completely different.
We filed into the stadium with the rest of CFA. It was crazy loud, the PA system blasting out announcements. The teams were yet to enter centerfield, which meant I could breathe for just a while longer.
Somehow, I ended up at the end of the row wedged between Paul and a total stranger. I curved my head around Paul to catch Elena's eye, but she was too wrapped up in Tyson to notice. Perfect.
"So, how are classes?" Paul offered me his soda, but I shook my head.
"Okay, I guess."
"Cool."
I lifted my head and stared straight out. Everyone was here for them. The team. The Fallen. They were as much a part of CFA as the Donohues. And now that Braiden was captain, things were bigger than ever.
"So, hmm, do you think you'll go to the Halloween party at Fallen House?"
"No." Not a chance, never happening. Not even if my life depends on it.
Paul's leg was shaking rhythmically, like an irritating tapping. "Because of him?"
My eyes whipped around to meet his and I stared at him, a little surprised. No one ever asked me about Jackson except Elena, and even then, she didn't always get an answer. But as I looked at Paul, his eyes softened. He wasn't nosy or prying, he was concerned.
"Yeah, among other things."
"Maybe we can do something at the house. Umm, we… I mean us, the guys, and you and Elena."
A laugh bubbled up. Watching Paul get so tongue-tied was always funny, even if it was a little awkward. His cheeks stained with embarrassment, and I felt sorry for him. Before I could stop myself, the words tumbled out. "Yeah, maybe."
I silently thanked the universe when he nodded casually, hoping he hadn’t mistaken my pity for interest. We would never be more than friends. But right now, I needed friends.
The crowd erupted as the opening beats to Thirty Seconds to Mars played out and the team entered the field. I didn’t want to look, but my eyes betrayed me, watching with a mind of their own as the white, green, and black jerseys stalked forward. Braiden led them like an army going into battle. There was no denying their togetherness—they were a unit. And Jackson was second in command.
He walked side by side with Braiden, their shoulders touching, helmets hanging at their opposite sides. Braiden was taller by a couple of inches, and the contrast of his blond hair and icy eyes made him look fierce, but Jackson had something about him. Maybe it was his posture, or the way his jaw ticked rhythmically as his eyes focused straight ahead, but he looked like the kind of guy you wouldn’t want to piss off. The kind of guy you would want on your side.
"Chip?" Paul nudged me with his shoulder and my body lurched, ripped from its infatuated state.
I shook my head and refocused my eyes on the field. The other team was entering now, and the visiting crowd was cheering. They had nothing on the roar of CFA, though. The Fallen had gathered by their benches, the coach going through last-minute plays with the key players. Some of the guys were wrapped around the cheerleaders, and my eyes fell on Briony as she sashayed over to Jackson and pressed up against him, deliberately pushing her chest into him. He stood rigidly, but when her arm snaked around his waist, his head dropped and he smiled at her.
He used to look at me like that. My stomach plummeted and I wanted to run. Instead, I dug my nails into the scar on my wrist. The pain sliced through me, but I breathed through it, needing the sensation to ground me. Needing something to replace the heartache tearing me up inside.
I had started that habit back up over the summer—the need to replace the pain of the memories with something physical. After the accident, people kept telling me that life would go on. That I would move on. But if they had felt an ounce of the grief eating away at my existence, they would have never said such a stupid thing. The painful memories started to consume me, and one day it all got to be too much. I scratched my nails into the skin on the inside of my thigh until it bled, but I felt it. Felt the instant relief, like I could breathe, if only just for a second. Soon, I needed a longer fix, and I started replaced my fingers with anything I could find sharp enough.
It took months of therapy to douse the urges, and it was all undone the minute I stepped back into Fort Pierce. Everything came flooding back after leaving Chastity Falls. But the guilt soon replaced my brief high, and I promised myself that I would stop. Told myself that as soon as I stepped back through the gates of the Academy I would find a new way to cope. The only problem was that my coping mechanism had become the source of my anxiety...Jackson.
"Hey, Ana, are you okay?"
I blinked and demanded my lips crack a smile. "Fine, I'm fine."
Paul regarded me for a second, his brown eyes boring into me, searching for the truth. I pursed my lips further, trying to show him that I was okay, and my body sagged when he nodded and turned his attention back to the game. How could I have been so stupid? To lose it like that in public?
Fear rose up, sweeping through me like wild rapids, and I clutched my chest. My eyes darted to the end of our row. I needed to get the hell out of there.
My hand brushed Paul aside, as I flung myself forward, ignoring the look of bewilderment on his Paul's face.
I ignored the looks and the disgruntled moans as I stumbled over people's feet. I ignored it all. Finally, I reached the turnstile and crashed through it, vaguely aware of someone calling my name. But the pounding of my pulse in my ears drowned it out, and I kept running.
"Ana, wait up. Wait." Paul caught up with me just as my feet hit the path cutting back through the forest. "Christ, you sure move fast," he said, jogging beside me to keep up. "Wanna talk about it?"
My legs started to slow. I didn't know if it was my body crashing from the anxiety attack, or the fact Paul had been concerned enough to follow me, but I slowed to halt.
Trying to get my breath, I stared out into the forest wondering how many secrets it housed. Since coming to CFA, that was all my life had been. It was supposed to be my salvation. And I had thought it was when Jackson walked into my life.
"Ana?"
I looked up and Paul smiled. "What happened back there?"
"I panicked." It came out barely a whisper, as the image of Jackson smiling at Briony replayed in my head.
"What did he do to you?"
My eyes fluttered downward, and I fought against the tears threatening to spill out—if they came, they would consume me.
“Ana, what did he do? Talk to me, pl
ease.”
“He ruined me.” The words lingered between us, and then Paul stepped closer to me and wrapped me in his arms, holding me close.
At first I tensed, aware of the unfamiliarity of his touch. No one had touched me, except Elena, since Jackson. And Aunt Betsy when she caught me off guard and pulled me into a hug once. It felt strange. Alien. But in Paul's arms, I felt safe. Felt like I didn’t have to carry the burden by myself.
I closed my eyes and relaxed into him, and let go.
~
“You sure we can’t dress up? It’s not Halloween without costumes.” Elena pouted and I balled up a sheet of paper and threw it at her. “Ow, bitch!”
“No costumes. It’s not a party; it’s just a gathering. With candy and maybe the odd pumpkin. I told Paul that I don’t want to make a big deal.”
“You told Paul, huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows and I bristled, not liking the inflection in her words.
“Yes, I told Paul. No big deal.”
Elena scoffed. “You know he has it bad for you, like major jonesing, right?”
My head dropped back onto the headboard and I groaned. “I’ve told you, nothing is going to happen with us. Not after everything. Besides, I’ve made it clear to him. Friends only.”
“And he’s okay with that?”
“He said he was. Elena, I can’t worry about this shit right now. I have enough on my mind.”
Elena came and dropped onto the bed next to me. She grabbed my hand, resting it in her lap. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes softened. “We’re all here for you. Me, Ty, and Paul. Hell, even Nate and Jamie. No more Paul talks, I swear. My brain and mouth aren’t connected sometimes. But things are going okay, right? With classes?”
They were going—I got up, went to class, and did the assignments, but were they going okay? I hadn’t figured that part out yet, but I nodded and smiled.
“So, what are we waiting for? Let’s go make ourselves sick on candy and laugh at the guys while they make total asses of themselves.”
We arrived at the guys’ house twenty minutes later. True to his word, Paul had kept it low key, although Cassie and Lydia were seated on one of the couches drooling over Jamie and Nate as they stood in front of the huge flat screen having some kind of virtual fight. I scanned the room, secretly hoping Talia wasn’t here, too. I didn’t want to deal with her sarcastic remarks and constant digs.
“Oh hey, Elena, Ana. Hope you don’t mind us crashing. Nate invited us. Just us.”
I relaxed a fraction at her words and then honed in on the fact that Lydia had blushed as she said his name. I cocked an eyebrow at Elena, who just shrugged.
“The more, the merrier, right?” Elena chirped, taking her seat on Tyson’s lap.
Paul came up beside me and shoulder checked me gently. “You okay?”
“Yes, Dad,” I mocked, and he shook his head, a slight smirk playing on his face. “Come on, you’re on host duties with me.”
I followed Paul into the kitchen. It wasn’t on the same scale as Fallen House, but it was pretty impressive, all high-gloss units and state-of-the-art appliances.
“How did you guys score this house?”
Paul grabbed a couple of beers from the refrigerator and shrugged. “Jamie’s dad is loaded. Like I-can-buy-my-son-the-best loaded. He went to Marcus Donohue directly.”
“You’re shitting me?” I clasped a hand over my mouth. “Oops, sorry.”
Paul laughed. “No need to apologize; it’s just good to know there’s some normal in there somewhere.” The sparkle in his eyes told me that he was just joking around, but I was too busy storing the new piece of information about Marcus Donohue—apparently, the stories I’d spent the summer obsessing over really were true.
“You want a beer or soda?” Paul called, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Beer?” I wasn’t sure why it came out like a question. I wasn’t sure why it came out at all. Alcohol and I never ended well, but I was in good company and desperate to relax; to try to ignore the taunts of the small knife next to Paul. Its sharp edge calling to me.
“You sure?” He eyed me suspiciously, but I nodded and snatched the bottle from him, and started gulping it down.
“Hey, steady,” he said, his forehead creasing.
I swallowed hard and blinked away the bitter taste. “What? I’m just thirsty.” And desperate to take my mind off that knife. My eyes darted to the blade. Paul caught me and cocked his brow but didn’t say anything, just narrowed his eyes at me.
We stood like that, watching the other, in some kind of showdown. He was trying to work me out, and I was trying to prepare my excuse for my weird behavior.
“Cormack, you bringing those beers or what?” Tyson’s voice boomed through the house, and Paul blinked, breaking our standoff. “Coming,” he yelled back before grabbing the bottles off the counter and brushing past me without a word.
After finishing the rest of the beer, I rejoined the rest of the guys. Paul moved up to let me sit next to him, and I guessed he wasn’t as pissed with me as he made me feel. Since my meltdown at the stadium, something had changed between us. I wasn’t interested in him, not like that, but he seemed genuinely concerned about me. He cared—it was written on his face every time I looked at him. And I liked him. He was easy to be around, when he wasn’t throwing his puppy dog eyes at me. Besides, after everything that had gone down last year, he still wanted to be my friend. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
As the night wore on, I was surprised at how relaxed I became. Sure, the four beers might have had something to do it, but I was actually having fun. And almost managed to ignore the itch underneath the surface wanting a release. Almost. But being around Elena and the guys was helping. Even Lydia and Cassie made me laugh a couple of times. It was nice.
“So, hmm, Lyd, you want to come get that book you need?”
Lydia looked over at Nate with a strange expression. “Book? What book?”
“You know, that book. The one I said I’d lend you.” Nate narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to tell her something.
“Oh yeah, that book. Of course. I forgot all about it.” She almost jumped off the seat and ran to him. The rest of us sat trying to stifle our laughter at their poor attempt to be discreet.
They hurried out of the room, and we all exploded with laughter.
“They do know we totally know they’re not going to find a book, right?” Cassie snorted through her laughter.
“I’ve never seen Nate act like such a pussy. Wait until tomorrow; I won’t let him live this down.” Jamie high fived Tyson and they started plotting Nate’s demise.
“She really likes him,” Cassie whispered, leaning over to us.
“I think it’s pretty obvious he likes her, too. He hasn’t stopped watching her all night,” Elena added.
I listened but didn’t join in. My busy thoughts were elsewhere—faux leather, a storage closet inside Fallen House, and exactly twelve months prior.
The hard truth was that I could avoid Jackson and shut my feelings off, but he wasn’t a stain to be removed. He was a scar—just another one to add to the ones already marring my body and mind.
Chapter 6
~JACKSON~
“Come on, Jackson. For me?” Briony batted her eyes at me and tried to pull on my arm, but I shrugged her off. “No.”
She threw her hands up and scowled. “Lighten up, for fuck’s sake. It’s just a cheer thing. I need a date. It’s not a damn marriage proposal.”
“I can’t stand those things, and it’s not like you don’t have your pick of guys.”
“Isn’t that the truth, sis,” Braiden called from the sofa.
“Shut it, brother.” Briony flipped him the bird behind his back, and then refocused her attention on me. “Please, I’m begging.”
Fuck, she was not going down without a fight, and Braiden wasn’t doing shit to help me. In fact, he loved every second of it.
“I’ll wear something very, very sexy.” Brio
ny inched closer and I instinctively stepped back, hitting the wall.
Braiden almost spat out his beer. “Too much info, Briony.”
I called over to him, “A little help?”
“Just take her, for fuck’s sake. Then I won’t have to listen to her bitch anymore.”
Double fuck.
“See, even Braiden thinks it’s a good idea.”
I should have known he’d take her side. He had been trying to hook us up since junior year at high school.
“Briony, you’re like my sister, for fuck’s sake.”
Briony bristled, flicking her hair off her shoulder, clearly trying to draw my eyes to her tits. “I am not your sister. Do I look like your sister?” She was pushing me, trying to get a rise from me. She had been doing it all summer since shit died down after Ana.
Ana.
Just thinking her name sent an electrical pulse rushing through me. I missed her so fucking much. Missed just being near her. And now I had to deal with Briony and her fucked-up views of almost-sibling relationships.
“Actually, don’t answer that. But you’re taking me. I won’t take no for an answer. Not this time.” Briony reached out for me, brushing her fingers across my chest, and the urge to gag hit me and I had to swallow it down.
It was an impossible situation. Before Ana, I brushed her off, no questions asked. But now, I was under scrutiny. My loyalty to the family had been called into question, and any slip-up meant I would have to face the consequences and risk turning everything into shit. Not just for me, but the people I cared about. Ana…Otis…Velma. Braiden would not accept my disloyalty. He just wouldn’t. He had made that clear as fucking day.
Knowing I had no choice, I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. “Fine. When and where?” Briony’s eyes lit up and she started to open her mouth, but I cut her off. “But Bri, it’s strictly business… got it?”
“Whatever you say.”
But the smirk in her voice told me that she had no intention of listening to me.