Making Bad Choices

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Making Bad Choices Page 24

by Rita Stradling


  “Hey, Cassie,” Tyler called from across the table.

  “Huh?” Woken from my thoughts, I pulled my leg away from Culter’s quickly. When I looked across, he was standing up, climbing off the bench.

  “You want to drop the sketches off with Ms. Hamilton before lunch ends?”

  “Oh, yeah, I completely forgot it’s Thursday.” Getting to my feet, I climbed over the bench giving Culter a quick glance as I did. When Tyler and I managed to get through the crowd and the door to the cafeteria closed behind us, Tyler turned to me.

  “Hell yes!” He threw up his hands and ran around the hallway like a crazy chicken. “Yes!” He kicked off the lockers.

  I started laughing and couldn’t stop as he kept kicking off walls.

  A lady teacher I didn’t know threw open the door of one of the classrooms. “What do you think you are doing, Tyler Fuller?” she yelled.

  He turned with a big grin on his face. “Ms. Taylor! How about a hug?” He held out his arms.

  She waved both her hands to stop him. “No hugs. Mr. Fuller, you stop bouncing off the walls right this moment.”

  “She likes me, Ms. Taylor, she likes me. My feet just can’t stay on the ground.”

  “Well, they better.” She visibly suppressed a laugh as she ducked back into her classroom.

  Laughing hard myself, I held my stomach and tried to say, “We should go before they get out of lunch and catch you this happy.”

  Tyler came over and crashed into my side. “Okay, okay, I’m done. Let’s get these sketches up to Ms. Hamilton.”

  Halfway up the stairs, I turned to Tyler and asked him something that I’d been meaning to ask him since Monday. “Who is Bryce Smith?”

  “Bryce?” he turned to me.

  “Yeah, the third guy on your psychic list.” I pulled said list from my back pocket.

  “Oh yeah. He’s a basketball player. But he’s not going to ask you. Rumor is that he checked with Culter first and Culter said no.”

  “You’re kidding me?” I asked, my mouth falling open.

  “That he asked Culter or that Culter said no?”

  “Both are really lame.”

  Tyler shrugged. “That’s Culter. It’s Bryce’s fault for being a chicken shit and going to ask your stepbrother’s permission.”

  I nodded, feeling at the same time annoyed at Culter’s audacity and relieved that I didn’t have to turn down yet another guy.

  But truly, if a girl came to ask my permission to ask Culter out, I would probably say no.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “You sure you don’t want to sit in the front seat?” Tyler shot over his shoulder. He grinned wide like a big puppy, but I didn’t think he could help it. He’d grinned through all of Friday, through Culter’s game and from the moment that we’d met him at Culter’s dad’s house.

  Behind us, Culter’s garage closed and Tyler’s junker disappeared from view.

  “I’m good back here,” I said, curling up on Culter’s back seat. “I’m hoping to sleep a little. Culter’s truck puts me to sleep.” I yawned as I said it, but I didn’t trust my yawns as being anything but teases. Sleep would be a beautiful, wonderful thing right now.

  I’d actually considered sneaking into Culter’s room last night just to pass out next to him; I didn’t do it, of course, but God I wanted to.

  As if he knew I was fantasizing about napping with him, he shot a small smile into the backseat.

  We pulled onto the main road and I stuck in my ear-buds, holding my Smartphone before me. The MLMC playlist now had thirteen songs, and as I scrolled down to look at today’s, I grinned. Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel. I pressed play, programmed the playlist to repeat, kicked off my boots and stretched out across Culter’s back seat.

  Folding up Culter’s jacket, I used it for a pillow. His clean, soapy scent enveloped me, and I could almost imagine I was lying with him again.

  As the song ended, and the next one began, fingers gently traced over the top of my foot. Slowly, I peeked over to see that Culter had slipped his hand between his seat and the door, on the far side of Tyler. His fingers traced over my bare foot, and then wrapped around it completely. With just the perfect amount of pressure, Culter began massaging into the bottom of my sole.

  Consciously, I knew I should pull my foot away as Tyler was right there, but it felt so good I couldn’t force myself to do it.

  I glanced over at Tyler, whose head was turned and mouth moved like he was saying something to Culter, but I couldn’t hear it over my music. From the way we were angled, Tyler would have to lean his head way into the backseat to see Culter’s hand massaging my foot.

  Closing my eyes, I decided that any risk was worth him continuing the foot massage. His thumb worked up the length of my foot, and the slow circles sent delicious tingles all through my foot and up my leg. My lips pressed together because it felt so good I even wanted to make little moans that would be so inappropriate and embarrassing at this moment. When he was finished with that foot, he reached back and grasped the other. Somewhere between the vibration of the truck and the amazing sensations in my feet and legs, I drifted off to sleep.

  Voices played through my mind as I surfaced from sleep—or maybe I was still sleeping. My ear-buds had fallen out, and I was pretty sure I overheard Culter and Tyler talking.

  Culter said something like, “If you don’t tell her soon, I’m going to. I’m fucking over this.”

  Then I thought Tyler said, “You think she can’t do the math? You think she needs to deal with that right now?”

  I squinted into the front seat and asked in a croaky voice, “Who are you guys talking about?”

  Two bleary faces looked back at me.

  “Good morning,” Culter said, flashing me some dimples.

  “You say that,” I grumbled, crossing my arms.

  “She wakes up cranky sometimes,” Culter told Tyler.

  I rolled deeper into his jacket “I’m not cranky,” I muttered, darkly.

  “That’s impressive, Cassie. You slept the entire drive. We’re already in Denver.” Tyler pointed out my window.

  Stretching up my aching neck, I peered out the window. Tall buildings lined the road, their ledges dripping with snow. Snow laden trees shrugged their loads onto the crowds of brave souls that walked to and fro among the colorful shops. The sky had almost extinguished its daylight, but there was more than enough illumination between the car’s headlights and the many colorful signs and brightly lit shop windows.

  Sitting up, I wiped my face furiously, trying to wake myself. “Were we supposed to be meeting everyone at a restaurant or something?”

  “Yeah, we’re heading to a steakhouse in downtown Denver. Jake’s house is just a little ways out from here.”

  We drove a little further before Culter turned into an onramp of a parking garage, and we looped up three stories before parking. I’d thought that going back to the city would feel like going home, but it didn’t. Weird things stood out to me, like the ceilings were higher and the parking spaces wider.

  As I mummified myself in my winter-wear in the backseat, Culter and Tyler jumped out. Immediately, they both pulled forward their seats for me.

  “Ha!” Tyler said, looking across, and then he closed his door.

  So, it turned out that I had to get out the way I wanted. Culter offered me his hand as I climbed out, and I took it, squeezing it once. “My feet feel nice,” I whispered as I climbed past him.

  He grinned, blue eyes bright. “Good.” He still held my hand and I wasn’t quite ready to let go, either.

  “I’m texting them we’re here!” Tyler shouted from the other side of the car. “Get your asses over here, it’s freezing!”

  Reluctantly, I let go of Culter’s hand.

  The moment I passed the truck, a bitter draft caught me. “Holy Shit! Cold!” I shouted, running over to Tyler.

  He pointed. “Elevators! Flee!”

  And we ran. Tyler was fast, and s
omehow, it turned into a race until Culter caught up to us, looking like he was jogging. The fucker.

  At the elevators, Tyler and I almost collided with the wall, but Culter just slowed to a stop. Tyler, who had narrowly beaten me, threw his arms up.

  “Fuck yeah!” he yelled, just as the elevator doors opened to reveal an elderly couple.

  Their eyes widened at us, and Culter smiled before saying, “Good evening.”

  The poor couple just nodded and hurried out like we might be there to mug them.

  In the elevator, we all cracked up, and I leaned my head against Culter’s shoulder. Gently, his hand touched the small of my back. It was official, I loved every little way he touched me. Leaning up against him with his fingers just barely touching me, I so wished this was a very different kind of weekend—a weekend where it could be just the two of us.

  To my surprise, the elevator doors opened straight into a restaurant, and directly in front of the elevators stood Misty, or at least I thought it was her as she was turned away.

  “There they are,” someone said from beyond Misty and I quickly shifted away from Culter just as Snow White stepped into view.

  As we stepped from the elevators, both Snow White and Misty grinned wide, teetering on their very high heels.

  “You guys look nice.” I commented. And, they did, from their full makeup to their maxi dresses and matching earrings. A quick glance around told me that they weren’t the only ones who’d dressed sharp. Yet again, I was rather underdressed for the party. This was the problem with only being friends with the guys in a group. Actually that wasn’t true, Max or Charlie would have always warned me if we were going somewhere dressy.

  “Thanks, Cassie. You look great, too,” Misty lied, but it was a nice lie. She blinked, rapidly, swaying a little as she looked between us. “We were here waiting for you. Everyone else is at the table.”

  “Thanks,” Tyler said, stepping up next to her. “Lead the way.”

  As we walked, I shed layers, scarf, hat and sweater, stuffing each into my much-too-small purse as I went. The girls led us past low lit booths, wobbling like baby giraffes learning to walk. At one point, Misty had to catch herself on a table, making a loud clanging that had the couple sitting there gaping at us. Needless to say, I was extremely relieved when Tyler put his arm around her and basically carried her forward.

  The table roared with cheers when we arrived, making me think that Misty and Snow White might not have been the only ones partaking in road soda on the way here. We squeezed into the booth, Culter beside me and Tyler going to the other side beside Snow White who insisted Misty scoot in first.

  The table was a loud, drunk, chaotic mess. Almost immediately, I was so fucking over it. Everyone talked over each other, and I couldn’t hear what anyone was saying. Jake, who actually didn’t seem drunk, had to ask me how the drive was three times before I got it and yelled back that I slept through it. When the waitress came and attempted to take the rabble’s order, I swore I could read her mind, and she was thinking: no fucking money is worth this shit.

  As if he knew how much I didn’t want to be there, Culter’s hand found mine under the table, his fingers gently wrapping around mine. With the low light of the restaurant, and the inebriated crowd we sat in, I gave it a one in a million chance that anyone would notice.

  Across the table Snow White’s eyes turned to the ceiling, and she looked royally pissed. On either side of her, Tyler and Misty leaned forward, talking to each other. It served her right, insisting on sitting between them like a chaperone.

  When our food came, I realized that everyone in the table had ordered one of two things: steak or salad, and aside from me who ordered a steak, it was gender determined. The first bite of steak burst delicious seasonings in my mouth, but instead of wanting more, I just wanted the whole thing to be over.

  Leaning in, I called to Culter, “Can I go sit in your truck?”

  He nodded with his forehead furrowing. “I’ll go with you.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t have to.”

  Culter nodded. “Just one second.” Rising up a little, he pulled his phone from his back pocket. He typed something into it, and across the table Jake grabbed out his phone. After he read his screen, he looked across at us and gave us thumbs up, then tossed something to Culter. Cupping his hand around his mouth, he shouted, “I’ve got Baby Fuller!”

  We both nodded at him, and I mouthed, “Thank you.”

  He waved it off and smiled as we walked from the table. I redressed in my winter clothes once more, as Culter and I headed to the front. Our waitress came toward us and stopped suddenly, blocking our way out, her eyelids widening. “You’re leaving?” Again, I thought I read the woman’s mind: dine and ditching teenage assholes.

  Culter pulled his wallet from his back pocket, and held out a card. “I’ll just pay for everyone.”

  That seemed a little crazy to me, but I wanted to leave and didn’t want trouble, so I was relieved when he did it. After about five minutes of us just standing there, she returned with the receipt to sign, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief as we headed out.

  When the elevator doors closed behind us, leaving us blissfully alone, I walked into Culter’s chest, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Thank you. I guess I wasn’t up for that,” I whispered.

  “Anytime.” His hands rubbed up and down my back.

  “Can we just run away somewhere together, Culter?” I whispered, as I gripped onto the material of his sweatshirt.

  “Yes,” he said. And, God, it was so tempting. But we brought Tyler with us and we couldn’t just disappear on him.

  “No, we can’t. We have to go to Jake’s,” I mumbled into his sweatshirt.

  “I’m down for whatever.” His fingers traced over my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear.

  We didn’t run away. Jake’s house sat just a little ways out of the city center, a small one-story that sat snugly among its identical neighbors. Snow buried both the yard area and the line where a path should lead to a front stoop.

  Culter held my hand and I held up the two bags of fast food we picked up on our way to Jake’s, and I stepped into his boot prints. Just inside the door, I turned to him. I went to my tiptoes, put my arms around his neck, and pressed my lips to his.

  “Hey,” he whispered, brushing the word across my lips. His hands went under my butt and he lifted me onto him.

  I folded my arms tighter around him, the fast food bags hitting his back and sending up the scent of French fries and cheeseburgers. “I can’t believe you paid for over a hundred dollars of steak and you’re eating fast food for me. That’s the sweetest, hottest thing ever, Culter Fuller.” Pressing my lips to his ear, I whispered, “I wish it was just you and me this weekend.” I took his earlobe in my mouth and sucked gently on it.

  “I was just waiting for you to say it,” he said, turning us toward the door.

  I laughed. “No, we can’t.”

  “Fuck yeah we can, Cassie.” His bright, heated gaze skipped between my eyes and my lips.

  My free hand ran through his hair, scratching lightly against his scalp. “I was thinking, what if we snuck out to your truck when everyone is passed out.”

  “Or . . .” he gave me an exasperated grin, “We can just pick a bedroom.”

  I bit my lip, and then said, “Okay. But only when everyone is really, really asleep.” Leaning in, I kissed him, gently tugging on his lower lip before pulling away. “Maybe we could do a little more than make out?”

  “Maybe we could.” He kissed me harder.

  I broke off from his kiss. “But we have to be sneaky. Sneaky is hot.”

  His hands squeezed me at the hips, pulling me into him. “I’d rather just leave Jake his keys and go stay somewhere else with you. We could pick up Tyler tomorrow, or he could get a ride with Jake.”

  That was both incredibly tempting and at the same time it would be tantamount to announcing that we were together to everyone.

 
A muffled sound of laughter came from outside the door.

  “They’re back,” I whispered as I wiggled in Culter’s hold.

  Reluctantly, he set me down. When I was down, he raised his eyebrows, clearly frustrated.

  “Come on, Culter,” I whispered while I begged him with my eyes to be on-board.

  Exhaling heavily, he took the fast food bags from my hand and headed into the house. I followed, not wanting to be caught in the hall.

  Culter tossed the fast food bags onto a long wide marble kitchen island in the modern, open kitchen. He leaned against the counter, staring off like he was thinking hard on something.

  Half of me wanted to ask him what he was thinking of, half of me wanted to run the other direction. A bad feeling grew in me, because I was almost positive that Culter was fed up with our secrecy.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Crossing to the marble slab island, I pulled out a burger just as voices filled the house. The area we stood in didn’t feel lived in, more like a hotel suite. The paintings all matched each other in a colorful array of lifeless still-lifes.

  Someone, Misty maybe, laughed hysterically as the crowd approached. The group spilled into the living room in mass. Grabbing the wall, Misty still teetered on her stilettos as she made her way to flop onto Jake’s couch. Snow White and the other two girls carried their shoes, obviously wising up that they were gravity-impaired.

  “Coming through!” Jake yelled, carrying what looked like a giant plastic container filled with alcohol bottles and mixers.

  I rushed to clear the fast food away and he set the container down.

  “Thanks,” he said to me as he slumped against the counter. “And thanks for getting dinner, man!” he said to Culter as he regained his breath. “Drinks are on me, yeah? Woo, that was heavy.” He heaved out a breath.

 

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