“This is fucked up.” Culter walked out before walking right back in and pointing at me.
I held up my hands, exasperated. “What?”
He looked back to Tyler. “Go hang out at Spencer’s. You can hang out there all day; his parents are out of town. Even if he has a girl there, he won’t give a fuck.”
“Yeah, okay,” Tyler said, moving to climb off the desk.
“Tyler, you can stay. This is my house too.”
“It’s cool, Cassie.” He jumped down and gave me a smile. “We’ll work on it tomorrow.”
It was probably good I didn’t have anything heavy within my reach, because if I did, I would so chuck it at Culter.
Tyler walked out of my room and Culter looked back, his hand on my door. “I’ll be right back.”
“Damn it, Culter. Not cool.”
“He’s fine,” he said, and then he just walked out.
“Douchebag!” I yelled after him, but I knew I’d already lost, again.
For some reason I felt like I’d really lost this time. I didn’t know why Tyler wanted to stay, but it felt important somehow. Climbing off my bed, I headed for the shower and stayed in until the water turned cold.
After, I sat in the kitchen in front of a bowl of steaming oatmeal and thought about life. Most particularly, I thought about what a fucking mess my life was. What was I doing with Culter? Culter, who didn’t think the way normal people did. And, he never had thought normally either.
When he brought up all those things about us when we were thirteen and twelve, I realized that in a way, we had been close, but not in a normal way. We’d fought and wrestled and tricked each other and passed out together at weird places, at the movies and restaurants. Culter and I hadn’t ever agreed on anything back then, because his thought process was like an alien's or something, there was no logic to it. And he was still the exact same. Like him deciding that I owed him Sundays since I’d hung out with Tyler during the week—that wasn’t normal logic. It was just that type of shit that would drive me crazy when we were younger.
A loud beep startled me and the screen of my phone lit up with a text message. My mind went to Culter and a surge of that something welled up in me, rising through my body. The feeling dissipated as I saw who the text was from, Markus.
Markus: Hey, beautiful. It was really nice hearing from you last night.
Me: I’m still embarrassed about it, feel like an asshole.
Markus: You’re too gorgeous to be an asshole. You and your mom were on my mind all morning, you doing okay?
Me: Yeah, I’m okay.
Markus: So, still your only one, huh? You’re not seeing anyone?
I bit my lip, thinking about it.
Me: Maybe. I kind of am. It just started, though.
Markus: Oh, nice. I actually can’t talk, I’m on set. I just wanted to make sure that you know I was happy to hear from you. Can I call you sometime? I miss you.
Me: Definitely.
Markus: Great, talk to you soon.
Setting my phone down on the table, I turned back to my oatmeal. Lifting my spoon, I inspected the cooling gelatinous mass, and then set the spoon back in the bowl.
Across the house, the front door swished open and closed. A second later Culter sauntered into the kitchen, looking way sexier than he had any right to look in a jacket and heavy boots.
He grinned wide as he approached. “Hey.”
“Hey, Buttface,” I muttered.
Obviously unfazed, he grabbed a chair and pulled it up to mine. Right after he sat, he scooped me up and pulled me into his lap.
I made a sound of protest, but I didn’t fight him, though I should have. Turning a glare on him, I said, “That was really rude to your cousin.”
“Tyler is fine, Cassie. He’s at Spencer’s and everyone already left. They’re good.” He nodded to my bowl. “You haven’t eaten yet?”
I hung my arms over his shoulders. “Nope.”
“Let’s toss the oatmeal and get a real meal. Then we can go to a movie or something, I don’t care.”
Damn it, he knew my weaknesses. I loved going to the movies.
“Culter, you don’t own my time. That’s not how people work.”
He smirked. “I don’t own anything, Cassie. I just want to hang out with you. I’m greedy—I think you already know that.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“I know.” His hands came up to my waist, thumbs brushing up and down my sides. “But your dad and Josh are coming back in two days.”
My dad was coming back in two days, which probably meant that in two days, this was over, whatever this was. When I thought about it, I guess I understood why he’d kicked out Tyler. Though, maybe it was better if we never crossed that line. What if things got awkward between us? We couldn’t be together, and if I hooked up with Culter, that wouldn’t be something I could just get over and move on from.
I mean, he’d be right there. And when he moved on, it would be all up in my face all the time. I didn’t do casual. When I went there, it meant something in a big way for me. I couldn’t just have a two-day fling with my stepbrother then repress it when reality hit.
“Cassie?” His arm squeezed around me. “What are you thinking?”
I looked down at him. “We shouldn’t.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Why?” I asked with a laugh. “Culter . . .” My hands came up, fingers running through his hair. “We have to live together for months, with our parents. This is a very, very bad idea.”
His hands squeezed my hips. “We’ll be fine.”
“What about when one of us moves on to someone who will actually work for them?”
“We won’t,” he said, grinning.
I blew out a laugh. “Really?”
“Really.”
“I think you just like winning, Culter Fuller. I’m not up for anymore heartbreak this year. I don’t do the casual, hold-back-your-feelings thing well. When I fall, I fall hard. Better not to go there.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, and then his smirk returned. “So, you’re saying you don’t want to get breakfast and go to the movies?”
I half-glared, half-laughed as I pushed his shoulder. “Shut up.”
“So you do want to get some breakfast?”
I shook my head, but I said, “Yeah, I want something other than oatmeal, especially now that the oatmeal is cold.”
“Okay.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine. “As for the rest, stop over-thinking us, Cassie. We’re going to be fine. I’m going to make this work.” He chuckled. “I haven’t even kissed you yet.”
“Easier to stop when you’ve never started,” I whispered.
“Yeah, but neither of us want that.”
“So are you going to?”
“Going to what?” he asked.
“Kiss me?”
“Fuck yeah, I am.”His eyes twinkled. “But first I’m going to buy you breakfast.”
“Okay. Or, I could buy you breakfast.”
Hands under my butt, he lifted me as he stood and set me back on the floor. “It’s my turn.”
“Actually, I got that money from those bitches at the hotel,” I admitted.
He laughed. “They paid you?”
“They offered me a hundred bucks, so I took it. Well, they only had eighty-something, but I took that. I bought us breakfast with it. I thought it was fitting as they didn’t tell you that one of them had a boyfriend—I mean, who does that? And, then the one with the boyfriend has me drag you out of there in the middle of the night when you were sleeping, to cover up her cheating. I loved buying your breakfast with the money they threw at me, and then I spent the rest on sweaters because I was cold.”
He laughed through my whole story, which was good, because I was a little worried that he’d be pissed I took the money.
“Anyway, that one didn’t count.”
“Cassie, you’re not buying me breakfast. That’s Frank’s money.
I don’t want you to spend his money on me. He wouldn’t want that either.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t going to go there. “Fine.”
After we bundled up in our jackets and hats, Culter took my hand and we weaved our fingers together. At the door, though, I pulled away.
He turned to look at me with a questioning look on his face.
I bit my lip, but then just came out with it, “Culter, you know that all this has to be a secret, right?”
He looked away, his jaw working. “From your dad?”
“From everyone . . . always.”
He opened the front door, and nodded outside. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”
As I followed him out the door, I couldn’t help but be hyperaware that he didn’t agree to anything.
Chapter Eighteen
Zoe leaned in between our desks in first period. “Cassie, I have something you’ll want to see.”
“The paper?” I asked, biting my lip in nervousness.
The bell rang, settling the class into a quiet whispering waiting. At the front of the class, Mr. Davis rearranged a pyramid of books that kept toppling off his desk.
Zoe gave me an excited smile, passing a small, folded booklet between our desks.
Taking it, the smell of freshly applied ink rose up to meet me. I set the paper on my desk, smiling down at the cover. Under a picture of a school janitor, large words in bold font read: New feature in The Bulvin Times, Comic strip on page five by Cassie Michaels and Tyler Fuller.
Turning to page five, I found that Ms. Hamilton had dedicated most of the page to our comic. It looked great, actually. The pictures transferred well to paper, no pixilation or blurring.
I felt Culter lean in toward me, feeling the warmth of him close to my side. Culter had not kissed me as promised yesterday. We spent the entire day doing silly or necessary stuff. After the movies, we went grocery shopping. Back at the house, he’d started a movie, pulled me into him lying on the couch, and passed out practically wrapped around me—not that I minded. Culter was such a boy, always eating or sleeping. But we had two days to be together, and I’d expected he wanted to make good use of that time. Instead, he wanted to watch eighties movies with me wrapped tightly in his arms.
I woke this morning with both an arm and leg holding me in place, his face pressed into my hair. And for the first time in probably six months, I woke smiling.
As Mr. Davis called the classes’ attention, Culter whispered, “Cassie, can I see your paper?”
I glanced over to Zoe, and when she shrugged, handed it over to Culter. A wide smile spread over his beautiful face as his eyes moved over the paper.
“Psst, give it over,” Spencer whispered from close behind me. He didn’t wait, though, his hand moved between the desks and took the paper off Culter’s desk.
“Hey, let me see that,” Beefy said, too.
I cringed at his volume and sure enough, Mr. Davis’ eyes found us like a dog sensing spilled leftovers.
“What’s going on over there, guys? Secrets?” he called from the front of the class.
We all turned forward, staring attentively at our not-pleased, bearded teacher.
“Just the school paper, sir,” Spencer said, holding up the paper right next to my shoulder. “Trying to stay informed about current events.”
Mr. Davis held a hand out. “As much as I applaud your pursuit of education, Mr. Shilland, I would prefer it was focused on world literature within the walls of my classroom. Pass it forward.”
The whole class watched us closely as we passed the paper up the row to Mr. Davis.
“Sorry,” I whispered to Zoe.
She shrugged. “I can get another one after second period, anyway.”
When Mr. Davis took the paper, he scanned the cover. “New feature on The Bulvin Times, Comic strip on page five by Cassie Michaels and Tyler Fuller,” he read aloud before flipping through the pages. When he stopped, his gaze moved over the page. He let out a big, bellowing laugh. “You made this?” he looked over at me.
“I drew it, the ideas were mostly Tyler Fuller’s,” I said back.
“Very impressive. The rest of you guys . . .” he directed the comment at the class, “are just going to have to wait until break to see this.” He set the paper down. “Today we are going to be passing around the Iliad, now these might be big, but they are not paperweights, door stoppers, or weapons. You need to return these.”
Zoe leaned in again. “The paper has buzz now. Yay.” Her shoulders came up, and a big smile danced across her face. Her smile kept flashing at me throughout class.
As the bell rang, Culter reached over, grabbing my stuff off my desk.
“Hey,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Give me your locker combination.” His brows rose, a challenge.
“I’m not sure I trust you with my combination.”
He shrugged. “Saves you a trip, you could just walk with Zoe.”
I looked away, considering. I definitely sensed ulterior motives, but curiosity won. “Fine.” Leaning toward him, I wrote the combo for my lock on the top paper of my notebook.
He closed the notebook, looking all too victorious.
Spencer tapped my shoulder. “So that’s you’re and Tyler’s big secret, huh? You two are making a comic?”
I turned back to look into the smile sparking on his beautiful face. “Yep,” I said.
“I like it. I only saw the first drawing before Mr. Davis took it but, shit, you’re a good artist.”
“I didn’t get to see anything,” Beefy grumbled, exaggerating his frown. “Yo, Cassie, are we still walking you to gym, or are you ditching us again?”
I glanced back to find Zoe halfway up her row, heading out of class. “I’m going to try to catch up with Zoe, but I’ll see you guys at first break, yeah?”
I did catch Zoe, who half-walked, half-bounced down the halls toward gym. Even Michael seemed excited when we caught up to him, in a dazed-happiness type of way as the class played basketball. Jasmine sat out with the P.E. teacher for the game, but her subdued smile sat contently on her lips throughout the period. After class, we walked together to the office to get the paper, and found only an empty rack.
As if the last two hours didn’t happen, Zoe’s smile evaporated off her face. “Oh, no. It’s not out yet? This is really bad.”
“Zoe, let’s just go ask,” Jasmine said in a cajoling voice, making me think that she’d had to do this before.
When we stepped into the office, Ms. Vale grinned up at us. “Good morning!”
Zoe rushed up to her desk. “Ms. Vale, is the paper not out yet? Because if it doesn’t go out at break, people probably won’t pick it up as much at lunch. The readership will drop and there are some essential articles this week—”
“Calm down, Zoe, Ms. Hamilton is on her way with more copies of the paper.”
We all stood in a moment of silence, before Zoe leaned over the counter and asked, “We ran out at the office? I thought there were hundreds.” Her eyelids went wide.
“Not exactly. Spencer, Jake, and Culter grabbed them last period. They were very insistent that they’d hand them out indiscriminately.” She fought a small smile, like she was remembering the encounter and the very persistent and charming boys. She tapped Zoe’s hand. “But Ms. Hamilton is heading over to restock the office right now. She should be here any minute if you want to wait.”
“Sorry,” I whispered to the group, knowing that it was my and Tyler’s fault those guys stole all the papers.
Zoe spun on me. “Oh my God! Yes!”
“This is good news?” I asked, because to me it seemed pretty annoying.
She nodded, furiously. “This is really good news.”
“Really, really good news,” Jasmine seconded as she stuck her thumbs through the suspenders she wore.
After we parted ways and I walked through the halls toward my locker, I realized why this was such good news. The boys had been very busy. Almost everyone
had a paper. Not only did they have one, most were looking through it, some were even laughing. As I entered the hallway where my locker waited, more than those three boys passed out the paper, basically the entire basketball team was on it.
“You get one of these yet?” a guy I didn’t know asked, handing me a paper.
“Oh. . . thank you.”
After my hand gripped the paper, he stepped in front of someone else.
“School paper, school paper, get your school paper!” Spencer yelled down the hall, as he pressed a paper into a passerby’s chest.
“Told you, no quiet mode,” Tyler said from behind me as I meandered toward my locker. He caught up to me and nodded sagely. “And I told you that people would like our comic.”
“Do they?” I asked.
“Yep, look . . .” he looked past me, “Yo, Misty!”
Misty turned, tucking a lock of her straight blonde hair behind her ear. She smiled. “Hey, Tyler.”
“You like our comic?”
“I love Gunther. You’re a great artist, Cassie.” She offered me a pretty genuine smile.
“Thanks. I’m glad people like it. We’re going to try to do one every week.”
“You should have Gunther try to call at a girl out of his car window, and smash into a tree,” Beefy said to me as he swung an arm over my shoulder.
I looked up, a little surprised. While Spencer would put an arm around me at anytime, this was the first time Beefy had swung a casual arm around me. He didn’t lean on me or pull me into him like Spencer always did, but nonetheless, he set it over my shoulders.
“You have to talk to Tyler, he’s the idea man,” I said, smiling up into Beefy’s face.
“Is that right, Baby Fuller?” Beefy asked over.
Tyler pointed into Beefy’s face. “I am three months younger than you, Jake, three months.”
This only made Beefy smile.
Reaching up, I tapped his shoulder affectionately before stepping out of his arm and moving the short distance to my locker and the boy who leaned up beside it. When I stepped up, the now familiar scent of his shampoo and soap, and just him, drew me even closer, and I shifted just a tiny bit. “You made quite a stir over our little paper,” I said, grinning as I dialed in the combination to my lock.
Making Bad Choices Page 16