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Tainted Love: A High School Bully Romance: A Pacific High Novel

Page 5

by Nichole Noel


  Probably too much to hope for. Still, for the first time in a long time, I let myself dream—just a little, that I might finally be on the path to finding my way at Pacific High and that maybe, just maybe, I might find a cute boyfriend to go along with my new life. It’s not too much to hope for, is it?

  Chapter Five

  I sort of like my job when everything’s running smoothly and I don’t get kissed senseless in an alcove by someone who’s basically my bully. Yeah, I like it fine. But not today. The debit machines aren’t working, which means we can’t take anything other than cash and people are not having it. I’ve never been called so many names in such quick succession in all of my life.

  It’s exhausting. People treat service industry workers and retail clerks like we’re fucking robots, but we’re people with feelings and it certainly wasn’t my choice to make the machines stop working.

  And, on top of it, Dan asks me to work late, which is more of a voluntold kind of thing considering I’m still on probation and I’m afraid if I say no, he’ll mark that against me at my three-month evaluation. And I need the money, to be honest. So, I stay late. And totally forget that mom needed the car tonight.

  She’s already on the porch and tapping her foot when I slowly walk in. I know what’s coming—I remembered eventually, but by that time, it was too late. I have butter all over me and popcorn in my hair.

  My shoes are sticky from a soda explosion and I want to just curl up into a ball and sleep forever. But I’m not going to get out of this without a confrontation with Mom, apparently.

  “Sadie Elizabeth, you knew I needed the car tonight,” she starts in on me as soon as I get onto the porch. I ignore her and head for the laundry room and quickly swap my shirt for a sweater that smells clean.

  “I had to stay late. If I don’t do what my boss wants, he might fire me. You know I’m on probation,” I say, as level as I can manage considering I’m pissed. “I’m sorry you’ll have to be late for your wine date, or whatever.”

  “My—you know I don’t go out much. That I rarely date. Is this some sort of sabotage? Are you angry at me for dating again?” If I was in a more charitable mood, I’d tell her she looks nice, because she does.

  Her sandy-brown hair is swept up into a chignon and her navy wrap dress makes her waist look tiny. Even her makeup looks great. She looks about ten years younger when she actually gets all dressed up. But I’m not in a good mood and she’s pissing me right off, so I dig my heels in.

  “Are you kidding me? You really are making this all about you, aren’t you? I had to stay late because we need the money.”

  Mom sighs. “You have responsibilities at home, too. If you’re going to take the car to work, I need it to be back when I need it.”

  “Or what? You’ll stop taking money from me for gas and groceries and pay for it yourself?” I seethe as I stomp into the kitchen to get a glass of water. She follows me, hands on her hips like she has the moral high ground here.

  She doesn’t. She knows we need the money, and she’s being a spoiled brat about it when I’ve done nothing but bend over backwards to help her.

  “And, besides, if he’s such a great guy, he should have picked you up.”

  “Sadie—” she starts, but I interrupt.

  “You know it’s true, or doesn’t he drive? What kind of loser are you going out with here, Mom?”

  Her face flushes and I know she’s pissed, but so am I. How dare she come at me after I’ve had the world’s worst shift? How dare she get mad at me for working harder so that maybe, just maybe, we won’t have to go without for once?

  “I expect more from you than this,” she starts and I know she’s about to go in on me, but I’ve had it. I’m done.

  “You expect the fucking world from me! I’m a kid, Mom! I shouldn’t have to be responsible for my life and your life! I’m a kid! What’s your excuse?”

  That strikes a nerve and I can see the anger flash across her face, but something else too—embarrassment because she knows it’s the truth. She relies on me too much and she knows it.

  I’m pretty sure she’s about to stammer out some sort of apology, but I’ve had enough for the night. I need to get out of here before I say something I’ll regret.

  I’m just so tired of it all. I’m tired of having to be the adult when everything falls apart in my mom’s life. I’m tired of being her therapist because she can’t afford to go to a professional.

  I’m so tired of not being able to be an irresponsible kid like everyone else. I’m just… tired. It hurts. I can’t even talk about dad without her crying, so I never got a chance to properly grieve either.

  I avoid the subject to keep her from getting upset. I avoid talking about whether we’re going to have enough money to buy groceries to keep her from getting upset. And I avoid doing anything wrong to keep her from getting upset. I have to be the daughter who’s perfect all the time and never fucks up and I’m just tired of it.

  I grab my keys and angrily stomp away from the house. I don’t know where I’m going, but fortunately, the house isn’t too far from downtown. It’s not late, so there should be lots open, but I also don’t want to see people. I just want to cry in peace without having to worry about whether I’m crying too loudly, and that mom will come in and make it all worse by crying too.

  I just… I want to be normal for one moment. Just want to get out of this body and out of this town and fly away to somewhere new, somewhere that I don’t have a history, somewhere that’s not wrapped up in grief.

  Before I even realize it, I’m almost to the bay, just in time to watch the sun set on this mostly cloudy day. It’s beautiful, the way rays of sunshine break through the high clouds and glitter against the water.

  Makes my tears sparkle as I lean on a railing and stare into the water. I’m just starting to feel a bit better when the last voice I want to hear in the world interrupts my moody thoughts.

  “Pouting all alone, Princess?”

  I sigh and I feel it in my bones. This is the last thing I need right now, so I turn on Connor, tears still visible, and manage to tell him to piss off.

  Surprisingly, he holds his hands up between us like he wasn’t trying to upset me. “Sorry. I was just teasing. I didn’t see that you were crying.” He seems like he’s genuinely surprised and that it wasn’t his intention to upset me, which immediately puts me on edge.

  “Like you wouldn’t have said something worse if you knew I was crying. What are you even doing here, anyway?” I sniffle as I look around for where he could have possibly come from.

  He hitches a thumb behind himself and points to a seaside restaurant—Art’s Fish and Chips, or something.

  “I came out for a vape and couldn’t resist saying hi to you.”

  “Ugh,” I roll my eyes. “Of course, you needed to have a smoke.”

  “You have an opinion about that?” he shoots back before slipping the e-cigarette from his pocket.

  “I have an opinion about a lot of things. That thing will give you cancer,” I say while glaring at the device as if somehow that’ll make him quit. But why does it matter? He can live his life however he wants.

  “I didn’t know you cared, Princess,” he says before slipping the device back into his pocket. Apparently, my ire made an impression.

  “I don’t,” I say before turning to walk away. I’m done with this conversation. I know where it ends, and it’s nowhere good.

  “Where are you heading?”

  “Away from you!” I yell back.

  “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to walk alone along the water. There have been reports of muggings lately.”

  I ignore him and his warnings and head for a staircase that connects the boardwalk and the docks. I have heard that there’s been some shady shit going on downtown lately, but I’m too upset to worry about that.

  “Sadie!” he calls after me and it’s weird to hear him say my name. It’s always ‘MacLean,’ or ‘Princess,’ or worse, ‘Paperbag P
rincess.’ I shouldn’t like the sound of my name on his lips as much as I do, and I definitely shouldn’t like the way he follows behind me as I stomp away.

  “Why you are you following me? You’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t like me,” I start as I turn to face him, but his smile stops me short. I know he’s thinking about how he kissed me at work.

  “You amuse me,” he says, and that triggers my anger like nothing else.

  “I’m not a toy, Connor. I’m a person. And I’m getting really tired of your manipulation, or games, or whatever it is you think you’re doing here. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” And between my shit with mom and everything, I start to cry and that, surprisingly, triggers a reaction from him.

  “Look, Princess, I don’t mean to…,” he trails off.

  “Well, what do you mean? Why are you here? Why are you following me when you could be with your friends?” I sniffle.

  He’s quiet for a moment, which isn’t typical for him. He always seems to have some sort of comeback to whatever I’ve said, but now he just stares at me in silence and looks so… well, he looks sad.

  “I don’t want it to be like this. I want things to be different,” he admits.

  “Is that why you’re such an asshole, then?” I say sarcastically. “Pretty funny way of showing you want things to change.”

  He sighs like I’m being difficult, like I’m the one that decided we couldn’t be friends anymore, like I’m the one who decided to be mean and horrible one day out of the blue.

  “Look, it’s just the way things have to be,” he says like I’m going to be happy with that explanation.

  “But why?”

  “I can’t—I can’t tell you!” he stammers, which surprises me. “It’s just something I can’t talk about. My dad doesn’t want it and that’s all that matters. I have to do what he says, otherwise…,” he trails off. Like always.

  “Look, I’m a big girl, I can handle whatever bullshit family secret you’re hiding. I don’t care! I just want to move on with my life, and I can’t keep doing it if you’re going to pop in and out all the time. This is giving me whiplash!”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you? Then why are you here? Why do we always end up in each other’s arms? It’s fucked up, Connor. You’re horrible to me at school, but then, when you’re alone with me, you can’t wait to stick your tongue down my throat? I can’t do this.”

  “Look. It’s just easier this way.”

  “Easier for who? I don’t want to get my heart ripped out again, Connor! You cut me out of your life when we were kids when you’d been there after dad died. And then nothing….” I’m crying. Barely able to get the words out now.

  I don’t care. Normally, I’d be humiliated at crying in front of Connor, but I just can’t muster up the energy to be embarrassed anymore. This hurts too bad, and he deserves to feel my pain.

  “Sadie…,” he starts, but I cut him off. I’ve had enough.

  “No. You get to listen to me now. I’m done with whatever this is, Connor. You can go on bullying me at school. Or letting your little bitchy, whatever the fuck she is to you—girlfriend? I don’t care, you can go on letting Ainsley be the royal cow that she is. I don’t care. But you don’t get to play these games with me anymore. You’re not my friend. Stay the fuck away from me.”

  At first, I think he’s going to get mad at me, it’s probably what he’d have done with anyone else, but he doesn’t. Just looks at me, tears in his beautiful eyes, and gives me a tight nod.

  “I’ll stay away. I’ll leave you alone,” he assures me. “We were never going to work, Sadie.”

  I glare at him. “Seemed to think different when your hands were on my ass and your tongue was in my mouth, but sure.”

  I think he’s trying to be cruel so that I can make a clean break, but it only makes things hurt more because I know how he can be, I know what he’s really like. I know that whatever he’s doing here, he thinks hurting me is protecting me. But I can’t deal with it. I’ve had too much heartache and I just… I need a clean break.

  “Doesn’t matter. Whether it was when we were kids, or now. You could never be in my life. We’re worlds apart,” he continues.

  “Yeah, you remind me every single chance you get. So, thanks for that.”

  “That’s because I’m an asshole,” he goes on, voice choked as he stalks closer. But he can’t be close to me, I do stupid shit when he’s close to me. And with that look on his face, God only knows what I’ll end up doing with him.

  “You are an asshole,” I seethe, even with tears in my eyes. “You broke my heart and you keep dancing all over it.”

  “I’m cruel. I need to make you hurt. It’s the only way things can ever be between us,” he assures me.

  “Just ignore me, Connor. Forget I exist! You’re a bully by choice and I’m done with it.”

  He laughs, and it’s a bitter sound, full of self-loathing. “It is a choice. It’s not a choice. It’s for the best.”

  He’s not making any sense, but he’s so close to me that I can make out the strange golden flecks of light in his hazel eyes. I can see the scar that I gave him. Count the beauty marks on his face. See the tears in his eyes.

  “Leave me,” I beg. “Forget me.”

  “Never,” he growls, and in an instant, I’m against him. My hands move on their own, tangling in his thick, dark hair as he pulls me tight, strong arms wrapping around my body as he dips and seals his lips against my own.

  It’s not a nice kiss. Not the sweet kisses he’s given me. Or even the teasing ones that leave me breathless and wanting more. No, this is full of hurt and hate and passion and… oh God, even love.

  It’s a fine line between love and hate, and I’m riding that line with Connor O’Brien. One of his hands slips low, cups my ass before I hitch a leg up over his hip. He catches on fast, holds my leg tight as I cling to him like a lifeline.

  His teeth nip, his lips suck, our tongues tangle, and we kiss each other like it’s the end of the world, like this is our final moment together and we have to make it last. It hurts my heart. I think we’re both crying. I’m so confused and amped up and I want him so bad, and I also want to push him away. I don’t. I hold tight, like that’ll keep him with me. Like that’ll make him love me.

  His lips slip from mine and trail along my jaw, kissing down to my throat where he sucks gently against my neck. I love the feeling, I love it so much. I want more. I want him to do absolutely everything he wants to me, even if that means I’m going to be heartbroken afterwards. I have no sense when it comes to Connor.

  In one quick, seamless motion, he lifts me and wraps my legs around his hard body before backing me up against the seawall—my front against his, back pressed tight against the stones as he kisses me, hands tight against my ass as he presses tight into me, grinding as we kiss each other with all the anger, hurt, and desire that’s in our hearts.

  I’m so angry. I’m so worked up. I’m so many feelings that I don’t even have words for. I want him to hurt, I want him to love, I want him to feel everything that I’m feeling inside of me right now. I want to know the truth.

  I want him to fuck right off and die. But what I do is pull tight against his hair, jerking his head back before I press my lips against his neck and suck—hard. It’s going to leave a mark, which is exactly what I want.

  He might be able to forget me tomorrow. Might be able to write this all off as a moment of stupid passion, but when he looks in the mirror, he’s going to see the evidence of what I’ve done to him. He’s going to think of me. Because God knows, I’ll be thinking of him too.

  He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t do anything but press tighter and moan. And I almost lose my nerve as I realize that he likes it. Oh, does he ever. My lips gentle a bit, and soon I’m pulling against his skin, mouth soft as I take the taste of him into me—salty, appealing, and something that’s so Connor. I can’t describe it other than to say it feels like the essence of
him is on my tongue, and I’m stupidly addicted. He’s driving me crazy, and he knows it.

  We’re driving each other crazy! We shouldn’t be doing this, but even as our kisses grow less frantic, even as our tears dry, neither one of us makes a move to pull away. Eventually, we just hold each other. My forehead against his, as we take in whatever the fuck we are and whatever the fuck we’ll never be.

  I slip from his hips and immediately miss the feel of him against me. I look away, cheeks flushed, as he reaches into his pants to adjust himself. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who’d gotten worked up.

  I talk first. “This was a mistake.”

  “You always say that,” his voice rumbles and I hate how sexy it sounds.

  I use my anger to ground myself. “And it’s always true. You’re going to leave me alone after this. We’re done.”

  “Sure,” he says, though it doesn’t sound at all like he means it.

  “Forget me, Connor. Ignore me and I’ll go back to pretending you don’t exist,” I say before finally pushing away from him. I’m halfway down the boardwalk before his voice reaches me.

  “Whatever you say. See you later, Princess.”

  “Piss off, Connor,” I call over my shoulder and his laugh follows me as I make my way off of the dock and head home.

  I can’t get him out of my head and he knows it, that’s what makes it so much worse. He’s bad for me. Bad in so many ways. He’s a bully to me by daylight, but at night, it almost feels like there could be something more between us.

  I can’t handle this emotional whiplash and I don’t deserve it, but as I lay in my bed, I can still feel his lips against mine. Feel where his hard body pressed into me. And remember how exactly that all made me feel—hot, achy, needy.

  I groan into my pillow, close my eyes, and try to sleep. But I know it’s futile. Even in my dreams, I can’t escape Connor O’Brien and, what’s worse, in my dreams, I don’t really want to.

  Chapter Six

 

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