She gave me a smile until she saw my face. Her mouth fell open, the gnashed carrots crammed into her teeth. “What happened?”
“You didn’t hear?” I sank down beside her and lifted my hand toward her carrot bag, waiting until she nodded before I grabbed a few.
“Hear what?”
“Maisy and her clique did this to my face.” I told her about this morning, leaving out the parts I didn’t think mattered. When I finished, she frowned.
“Wait, what? There’s holes in that story.”
“No holes,” I assured her, stuffing my mouth.
“Why would Maisy get pissed for no reason?”
“Because she’s a bitch.” I shrugged. “Why else.”
“Mel,” she warned, pulling the carrot bag away from me. “Tell me and I’ll even share my Doritos.”
“Doritos and carrot sticks? Kind of a waste of vitamin A don’t you think?”
She turned away.
“Fine, fine.” I restarted my story, beginning with the slap, and ending with the incriminating hat and the locker in my face. The entire time her big brown eyes watched with wide interest, chomping carrots like a gothic bunny rabbit.
She handed off her carrots, which meant she was about to lay into me. “You slapped Darren Morre?”
“Mhm.” I looked down at my crossed legs.
“And he came by your place the next day to check on you?”
“He came to do our assignment,” I corrected.
“He could do the assignment at school.”
“I ditched.”
She sniffed, turning to face me with determination etched between her brows. “So, wait. He came over and you both flirted over his hat?”
I choked on a carrot. “We did not flirt.”
“Oh, please. Maisy said that was his favorite hat, right? And he just gave it to you? And the way he looked at your pics. What if Darren Morre likes you?”
I snorted genuinely. “That boy barely tolerates me.”
“He stuck up for you today, though.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t stick up for me all the other days,” I reminded her, hating the sadness in my tone.
“That’s true,” she agreed, her own tone also sad.
“And he only did that because it was his own ass on the line.” I told her about what he’d said about Maisy being jealous, but I left out the fact that she cut herself. Because I wasn’t a bitch like her. Sadness so strong it drove you to hurt yourself wasn’t a weapon; I’d rather lose this war than mock her for her pain.
“She slapped him like that? You think she does that all the time?”
I shrugged to her question.
“If so, that’s messed up. It’s like reverse domestic violence. Just because it’s a guy doesn’t mean you get to abuse them.”
I felt sick at her comment. “I abused him.”
“No, you didn’t. You lost your temper. And that’s not cool. I’m not condoning that. But you’re not a monster, Mel. You’re one of the best souls I’ve ever met.”
I bit back my tears. “You’re lying.”
She shook her head and put her arm around my shoulder. “I’m not. You’re passionate and loyal. You’re strong as heck too.” She kissed my cheek and I leaned into her, thankful to have her friendship.
“What’s wrong?”
Sean sank down beside me with two pieces of pizza, and two sodas. He handed one of each to me, and I broke down. Sobbing so hard I couldn’t see. Sean and Gen both hugged me, wrapping me in their arms and telling me it would be okay, but I didn’t think they were right.
Not that time.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I was thankful I didn’t wear makeup once I’d calmed down. There was nothing to clean up but tears, and those were clear.
Clear as water.
I sat hunched over eating my pizza as Sean and Gen talked about his upcoming comic strip about a seventeen-year-old girl who joined the army. After running into a radioactive waste site, she became a powerful soldier who ended the mere idea of war. She brought peace.
And shade to all those suffering from the Phoenix heat.
“Whoa,” Gen whispered, at the same time Sean said, “What’s he doing here?”
I looked up to find Dare coming up the amphitheater stairs. He met my eyes, taking each step slowly. I panicked. I didn’t want to see him or talk to him. I jumped up and grabbed my bag, ignoring Sean’s question and took off for the other end of the seats.
“Mel!” Dare roared, and I heard his feet pick up speed.
I had to make it down before he made it up. I jumped down the stairs one at a time with both feet, my hair picking up and flying as I tried desperately to get away from him.
“Mel, wait!” he growled, his voice closer.
I made it to the bottom with a thud I felt into my teeth but didn’t stop. I took off around the corner and tried to make it to the bungalow classrooms. There were a lot of places to hide. My feet bit into the concrete and I saw my opening a few feet ahead.
But so did Dare.
His body slammed into mine and he pulled me roughly into the alley between classrooms, barricading my body with his. His breath, thick of mint and something else, something like cola, brushed over my lips as he breathed hard. His stormy gray eyes looked like silver swirls of clouds. His thick brown lashes that close looked like bird feathers. I got the impression his eyes were the sky, and his lashes a bird. I wanted to jump inside of his eyes and fly away.
“Look at your eye,” he said in regret, closing his.
Open them, I begged. When he did, I leaned close, rising on my tiptoe to put my forehead against his. Our lashes tangled, and our noses kissed. His lips were so close our breath mingled. It was too late to remember that I’d just eaten pizza.
“Your eyes look like green gold,” he murmured. “How come I never noticed how green and brown they were before? They’re beautiful,” he breathed, and then his breath caught when mine did, and his eyes bored into mine. He stepped back, letting me go without warning, but he slammed his hands on either side of my head, pinning me in. “Why do you always run away from me?”
I closed my eyes, needing to catch my breath.
Catch my life.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Why not? I didn’t have anything to do with this morning.”
At the mention of this morning, I tried to duck under his arm, but he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and forced my back against his chest. He bent, putting his mouth close to my ear. “I am so sorry they did that to you, Mel.”
I couldn’t breathe right. “Let me go.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice breaking.
“Dare!” I begged. “Let me go.” My breathing got worse.
I couldn’t pull in a good breath.
“I broke up with her,” he said, holding me closer.
I felt like I would faint. I fought him harder. I wanted free. To run. To fly. To be free of all the dark in me. The pain.
But his arms were like steel and twice as long as mine. They wrapped around me completely, keeping me pinned to his chest.
“If I let you go, will you run?”
“No,” I huffed, hating the hot tears running down my cheek.
The moment he let me free, I took off.
“Damn it!” he hissed, the sound of his shoes digging into the asphalt after me.
I pumped my legs for the baseball field. When I made it to the sandy field, I swung left for the dugout, barreling down the stairs until I was backed into another corner. I collapsed onto the ground and put my face between my knees, my heart and breath humming with… nothing.
It had to be nothing, or this something would ruin me.
I felt his hands on me. On my shoulders, on my arms. “Take less breaths.”
I didn’t, breathing even harder.
“Mel, you have to calm down. You’re going to pass out. It’s hot as hell in here.” I heard his knees in the sand, and then my hat
was gone, and on his head, and he was lifting my face up with both his hands. “Breathe, Mel. Slow, deep breaths.”
I focused on the birds and the sky in his eyes, and then I did what he said. I breathed. Deep, and slow.
“Good, Mel. Keep doing that.”
I ached to feel the wind in his eyes. The storm and the breeze and the free fall. My breathing calmed further
He leaned down to rest his forehead on mine. “A little better?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I tried to free myself from his grasp, but he only seemed to hold me tighter. “Stop. Running. From me.” He sank down to his butt, our position so awkward I could only stare as his long impossible legs moved to either side of my bunched-up body. He slid close and pulled me around my waist, so that I was entrapped in his hold, and his legs.
I fought his hold, but he cursed under his breath and held me so tightly it was impossible to have a breathing problem; my lungs could barely work in his tight grip. I sagged against him, letting my head fall against his chest.
Darren Morre was holding me in the baseball dugout, and we both had black eyes.
“You just had to wear the damn hat, didn’t you?” He sighed into my hair. “Maybe I should thank you. Seeing the way those two acted was the final shove I needed to break her ass loose.”
“Why didn’t you do that when Maisy knocked all my books out of my hands two weeks ago?” I leaned back to glare at him. “Or when she made Mackenzie’s life hell?”
He blinked at me, and I thought he’d deny it, but he didn’t. His shoulders slumped. “Okay, Mel. You’re right. I’m an asshole. Still am. But that was before…”
“Before what?”
He shrugged. “Before a lot of things. Before I saw the look in your eyes when you slapped me. Before I saw you when I came over last night. Before you looked adorable in my hat. Before you told me to kiss your ass a hundred times. Before I saw the pain churning in your eyes when that locker hit your face. I guess, what I really mean, is before I saw you. That answer your question?”
Crap. I forgot how honest he was. It made his insults hurt worse, but his explanations felt ten times better than most, too. I shook my head. “What do you mean? The look in my eyes?”
He lifted his arms, and brows, in question. “Don’t run?”
I nodded.
We switched positions until we were both sitting on the ground side by side, my right hip pressing into his left. His long legs stretched out in front of him, mine folded in front of me.
“The look,” I prompted.
“You looked… like a tempest. This rising and cresting storm. Furious and sad. I didn’t think I was the one you were slapping. I’ve been wondering, though, who you saw when you smacked me.”
I folded my hands together and tangled my fingers. He saw all that? I thought I hid it well? Or maybe there just wasn’t anyone to hide it from, and Dare had slipped through my walls. Mom didn’t look, Dad didn’t care, and Sean and Gen already knew.
“Does Maisy hit you a lot?” I asked, peeking at him.
He stared straight, his head bobbing. “She likes to inflict pain.”
“Why?”
His shoulder shrugged. “Don’t know. Only know she does.”
“Are you sad to be single?”
His body moved with a short laugh. “No, Mel. I’m glad. Worried what she’ll do, but glad. Even though we’ll probably be back together by tonight.”
For some reason, my heart dropped. “Why would you let that happen?”
He shrugged with one shoulder again. “Have you ever been with someone who had marks on their arms for every time you upset them? I can’t leave her, Mel. She’ll hurt herself. I’m an asshole, but I’m not evil.”
Like her, I thought meanly. “That’s sick, Dare. You should tell her parents or something. If not only for her to get some help.”
“Her parents are clueless. Care more for pretense than they do for their daughter. They throw money at her and think that’s enough. Partly why she’s so desperate for attention. Good or bad.”
Would I become like Maisy? Hungry for attention? I was trying to learn how to live without it right now, but what would happen when I became so desperate for attention I hurt myself to have it?
“So you’re just going to go back with her?” I glared at his uncaring face. His easygoingness.
His walls.
“I don’t know,” he snapped, turning to glare down at me. “Why’s it matter to you?”
Good question. I crossed my arms over my chest and cast my glower at the field. “Because she hits you. Because she’s a monster. Because I thought you were one too, and I think I was wrong.”
“Oh, Mel, but I am. In her eyes I’m the boy who breaks her heart over and over again. I’m the F-student with no drive. I’m slipping my hand up skirts and smoking behind the school. I’ve been a monster for years, what’s the point in fighting that when everyone around me wouldn’t believe me even if I denied it?”
I could hear the pain in his voice, the Darren trapped in his persona. I really wondered if I knew this guy. “You’re failing?”
“Hard to study when Maisy won’t let me. Even harder to do with a job and a brother to take care of on the weeknights after work. And it’s even harder since I got fired for showing up to work with this.” He pointed at his black eye.
I felt terrible. I couldn’t speak around my guilt. “I’m so sorry, Dare.” I pressed my chin to his shoulder and peered up at him from under my lashes. When he looked at me, I let my walls down for a second. “I really am. I shouldn’t have done that to you. It’s beyond messed up.”
He looked down at me, his eyes roaming over my face. He leaned close and smiled a little. And then he kissed the cut on my eye. “When did you get so cute, Mel?”
I backed away, scowling. “I am not cute, Darren Morre.”
“Bullshit. You’re cute as hell. With your big hazel eyes and baggy jeans. Pretty hot too the way they hang off your hips like that. Kind of makes no sense how that works, boy clothes on a chick, but who am I to argue with my hard on?” He grinned.
I made a disgusted sound in the back of my throat and smacked his shoulder. “Gross.” I glanced down to see if he had one, relieved to find his jeans tentless.
He held out his hand. “Are we cool?”
I looked at it warily. “I don’t know…”
He grabbed my hand, and we shook on it. “We’re cool. Maybe we could, maybe start over? Since you’re the only girl who knows that I’m not in fact a monster?”
With eyes like free falling, I’d risk being cool with him.
If only to fly away in them one more time.
We both got to our feet. I looked around. “Where’s my bag?”
“It’s probably in the alley. Let’s go look for it.” He pushed to his feet and then held his hand out to me.
I gave him my hand, giving him a small grateful smile, and then dropping it once he turned around. Mortification followed me as I followed him. The sun shone down, making me fan myself with my shirt.
“You need some ice on your cut. Let’s go to the caf? Lunch won’t be over for ten minutes.” He pulled his phone out and checked the time.
I could see my bag in the alley. “It’s fine. I’ve got to run.”
He jogged ahead and snagged my bag, slinging it over his chest. “Follow me, Tom.”
“It’s totally fine, Dare.”
“Tom!” he snapped. “Would you stop fighting me so hard and get your cute little ass over here?” He glared at me.
“Stop calling me cute,” I huffed, going to him.
He slung his arm over my shoulder. “What would you like me to call you? Trickster? Liar? Fraud?”
“Why would you call me that?” I was none of those things.
“Because I think you have a treasure chest under these baggy clothes, and you’re running around hiding them from me, that’s why.”
“Of course, you’d choose a treasure chest, you’re a filthy-mo
uthed pirate.”
He guided me around the corner and around the amphitheater for the cafeteria. “Arrg,” he groaned. “I spy me a treasure chest and I want my booty.” He reached down to smack my ass, making me yelp. Before I could swat him, he wrapped his arms around me from behind and held my arms to my front, walking us awkwardly ahead. “You know the rules, don’t you?”
I sighed meanly, trying to walk and argue at the same time. His body was so large and encapsulating. I could hardly move. And why did he insist on acting like we’re friends. We were barely contained enemies. “What rules?”
“You never mess with a pirate and their treasure.”
The moment he reached ahead of us to open the cafeteria doors, we stumbled in, a mess of denim wrapped tangled limbs and boys with boundary issues. A lot of people looked over curiously, and most of them did a double-take. Mainly the people in the middle of the cafeteria, the popular kids who didn’t want to eat outside in the heat on the amphitheater stage.
Dare laughed and straightened up, clueless to the audience. He grabbed my hand and pulled me along. I knew how it looked. It looked like we were a couple. With two black eyes.
I tried to free my hand from his, but he tugged me ahead, thinking I was being my usual self.
“Could you imagine if we actually dated?” he said.
So he did feel the eyes. “I know. The whole school would do this to us every day.”
“Want to mess with them?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.
I smiled and nodded. “Sure, boyfriend.”
He grinned. And then he stopped in the middle of everyone and grabbed my face between his hands. He leaned close and pressed his lips to mine. Just a soft peck, but the cafeteria gasped, and some people whispered.
“Tom and Dare,” he said. “What a disaster of a nickname.”
I was pissed. Super pissed. So pissed I couldn’t see straight. But I was also flying in his eyes, and I was too high up to be that mad in front of everyone. “We’d be a disaster.”
He pecked my lips once more and grinned. “Not only are your eyes beautiful, but you’ve got a pair of insane lips. So full and pink. Like freaking bubblegum. Put some gloss on these things, Tom, and you’d be a threat.”
The Tomboy & the Rebel Page 5