by K. I. Lynn
“An–and you would have cared?” Her whispered, sad question angers me so much I can’t talk for two seconds.
“Of course I would, damn it! You’re my best friend!”
She snuggles into my chest, her head tucked under my chin. “You’re my best friend, too. Thank you for saving me. I love you, Brayden.”
I never imagined I’d hear those words from her. Throat tight, I whisper into her hair, “You, too, Kira,” and it doesn’t feel awkward like I’d imagined.
It feels right, actually.
Ryan returns with the ladder and he climbs back up toward us with a pale face and wide eyes.
“She’s okay. I’ve got her.” I try to move Kira off my lap so we can climb down, but she shakes her head and refuses to let go.
And that’s more than all right. I don’t want to let her go either. It’s going to be tricky to climb with her in my arms, but I’ll figure it out.
“Here, let me help you with her,” Ryan says, reaching for her.
I tense.
Kira does too and burrows closer. “Let him carry me, please.”
I’m glaring at him, angry that he wants to take her out of my arms for some reason.
His worried eyes bounce between her and me, doing that weird thing where he seems like he’s scanning us.
I don’t care. I’m not letting his sister go.
After what just happened—that feeling of almost losing her in my life—I don’t think I’m ever going to let her go.
October 2, 2008
The pond I’m sitting in front of is still, quiet. Buildings reflect off the glassy surface, making me miss the green of our suburban neighborhood.
I hate being here. Hate why I’m here and what brought me to this place.
The divorce.
Because it’s finally happening, and although it feels like it’s a long time coming, it still blows.
My father cheated on my mother and she caught him. For months, I fucking knew it was his fault. Having it confirmed just makes me feel even more sick inside.
They were yelling and screaming, and I had to get away. I’m just outside, waiting, deciding. It’s plagued me ever since they told me: who am I going to live with?
The last few months have been bad. Maybe I’m being melodramatic, but everything sucks. Well, except for the finally having sex part. It felt good. Very good.
But . . .
I bend over and pick up a nearby stick and begin to draw in the dirt below my feet.
Something was missing. I can’t put my finger on it. It did the job—I got off inside a girl, and it felt fantastic.
Still, something kept it from being the mind-blowing experience I’d built it up to be. Then again, it was my first time, and much more awkward than what I’d seen in porn.
I like Jen; she’s cool, sexy, but that’s it. She’ll never be my girlfriend, but I’ll definitely have sex with her again.
The bench moves beside me and a familiar head of auburn hair lands on my shoulder. My heart pounds in my chest, but I don’t move or acknowledge her. She doesn’t say anything; she doesn’t need to. Ryan arrived an hour ago for support and brought Kira with him. I wish he hadn’t. Her being here messes things up.
My chest does that weird tightening thing it’s started doing recently everytime I see her. Maybe it’s always been there, but it’s been getting worse and worse on me. She’s slowly filling out, and when I look into her eyes, my stomach flips and my heart races. I just don’t get what’s going on.
Her tiny fingers wrap around my arm, then run up and down, her touch soothing. It’s a silent question, “Hey, how’re you doing?”
I respond in silence as well by grabbing her hand and squeezing. “Hanging in there.”
“Where’s Ryan?” I ask after a few minutes of nothing.
“He had to get to practice.”
I frown. Practice. Where I should be. Some laps in the pool could really help clear my mind right now. “How’re you getting home? I don’t know how long this is going to go on for.”
She shrugs. “Mom said she’d be back in a few hours.”
“That’s a long time to sit here waiting.”
“Yeah, but I’ll be okay.”
Silence again. She gets that I don’t want to talk. I want to be alone, but I don’t want her to go either. Kira’s the only girl I’ve ever been able to get close to. I honestly don’t know what I would do without her and Ryan. They have no idea how much they’ve helped me through all this.
We all tried to run away last year, me to escape the hell at home, and them just to be with me. Of course, we got caught the very next day, when the cops and our families found our campsite out in the woods. Stupidest idea ever, I know, but I’ll never forget the fact that they were both willing to risk everything to run away with me.
“That girl over there is looking at you. She’s pretty,” Kira mumbles.
I look up and across the pond to a beautiful blonde staring back. I want to smile at her, watch her blush, knowing she’s attracted to me, but I just don’t have it in me today to care.
“You should go ask her out.” There’s an edge to her voice I can’t describe or understand. Almost like she’s testing me, but also trying to cheer me up by getting me to look at a pretty girl.
My jaw flexes. “No.”
“No? Why not?” So much confusion in her tone. She’s so young still.
“I don’t want a girlfriend.”
“What about Jennifer Henrichs?”
Her tone . . . what it means . . . shit.
Kira knows about me and Jennifer. That we had sex.
She shouldn’t know that. I don’t like that she does. She’s too young to know things like that, even though I did at her age. Doesn’t matter. It still bothers me she found out. Annoyed, I sigh and decide to be honest with her, although talking about this with her is the last thing I want to do. “No. Don’t want her as my girlfriend, either.”
“You don’t?”
I shake my head and go back to drawing in the sand. “No. Girlfriends lead to fighting and heartache, and I don’t want any of that.”
Her brow furrows. “Don’t you want to love someone?”
I turn to look at her. The sadness in her eyes crushes me. Almost like her heart is breaking for me.
Girls are so different. They dream of Prince Charming and white knights. I’m neither of those, and I never will be. No fairy tales, no happily-ever-afters, because I’ve seen what reality is really like.
Happiness and love is a myth. A tale told to make people strive for the unattainable.
Life is miserable and harsh.
All I need is a good job, good friends, and a girl on the side, not in my life.
“I love my mom and my dad, and look where that’s ended.”
“Have you decided who you’re going to live with yet?”
I think on that question, the same one I’ve been asking myself. The one I want to live with is Mom, but that means changing schools and leaving Kira.
I blink as I realize what I’ve just said. It’s always hard to think about leaving my best friend, but why’s it so difficult to even think about leaving Kira? It’s almost like I’m torn between my mom and Kira, and Ryan isn’t even a factor. Why?
My phone goes off, a text from Mom asking if I’ve made up my mind. They’re almost ready for me.
My chest hurts, and my bottom lip trembles as all my bravado leaves me. Why am I being forced to leave one of them? Why can’t we just be a happy family?
Because my dad’s an asshole who cheated on her. His actions ripped us apart. He broke our family.
How could he?
Small, warm hands wrap around my neck as Kira climbs onto my lap, straddling my legs. It’s then I realize the tears falling from my eyes. I cling to her, fisting her shirt as I pull her as close as I can, my body shaking.
She pulls back a little, but I continue to hold tight as if having her here is the answer I’ve been searching for. Soft lips
kiss away a falling tear on my cheek before moving to the other side. Her lips ghost across mine as she goes.
I gasp as a hot zing shoots through my body and my heart beats hard like fireworks are exploding from inside. It travels through me, my dick twitching and starting to get hard.
I’ve felt something similar when Aubrey Miller kissed me at the freshman dance, and when I had sex with Jen, but they were so weak compared to Kira’s small touch.
To her, it’s innocent, she doesn’t even notice the change in me. I bury my head into her neck. She smells so sweet I want to kiss the skin there, taste her.
What’s happening to me? Kira’s only twelve. She barely even has boobs yet.
Plus . . . it’s Kira. One of my best friends.
The world is wrong, but whenever I’m with her, it’s right.
Why is that?
My phone buzzes again and I sigh, pulling it from my pocket, which is difficult with the monkey wrapped around me.
Not that I want her to go.
“They want me.”
She pulls back and gives me a small smile as she dismounts me.
Fuck. Dismounts?
I chastise myself again. I can’t be thinking like that. She’s only twelve!
I stand and heave a harsh sigh as I look at the building where my fate is being decided.
Kira stands on the tips of her toes and kisses my cheek. “Good luck!” She gives me a smile, but it cracks as her bottom lip quivers. “No matter what you decide, me and Ryan love you and we’ll always be here for you.”
I nod and turn from her, unable to take the look on her face any longer. A whimper from behind me as I walk away stabs at my chest. It hurts to leave her for even a few minutes. How can I leave her forever?
My decision is made in that one question, because I know the answer—I can’t.
April 19, 2011
Jennifer Henrichs wants Brayden.
Again.
She’s so obvious about it that I can’t help but hate her. More than I do already, that is.
As soon as we walked into the house, she was all over him, offering him everything but her body.
That’s coming later. I have no doubt.
Everyone knows she was his first. That she fucked him almost three years ago.
If he sleeps with her again, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it. Every time he decides to have sex with one of the many little whores throwing themselves at him, I feel like someone’s stabbed me in the chest with a rusty, corroded knife.
The pain isn’t logical. I can’t stop it, either. It just is. Just like my feelings for him.
But, like I said, I’m one amongst many that want him.
I’m probably the only one that’s never going to have him. Unlike Jennifer, the lucky bitch.
God, every day, I wish he’d be interested in me that way. Sometimes, I think he’s always going to see me as nothing but his friend.
Or worse, his sister.
The thought alone makes me want to throw up. We’re not freaking related. Just because he’s best friends with my brother doesn’t make Brayden my brother as well.
Sometimes, that’s all he treats me as. Either his friend or his little sister.
Other times, I swear there’s something more there, and it makes me burn inside.
I want him. I’ve wanted him for so long, I’m starting to think I’ve always wanted him. The thought that Jennifer might get him—or anyone else—breaks my heart so thoroughly that I know it can only mean one thing.
I can’t admit that to myself yet. It’s too much. Too deep. Also, if I’m to only be his friend for the rest of our lives, what’s the point, right?
Except that, when he looks at me a certain way, I feel the emotion tripping in my chest, slamming it’s way up my throat, until the words are this close to slipping out of my mouth.
The backyard is packed full of our friends. Ryan is off somewhere. Probably seeking out one of the girls that constantly throw themselves at him, too, but I don’t want to think about that.
I’ve been sitting near the back corner of the backyard by the tall, wooden fence that blocks the yard from view of the outside. It’s dark here, completely covered in shadow, and there’s this huge oak tree that offers even more privacy.
I think that’s why someone installed a small stone bench right behind the tree. For privacy.
Whatever. It’s convenient for me now. Gives me a place to hang out by myself, even if it is chilly.
I’m a loner. Not by choice, though. Most of the girls in the neighborhood want Brayden. If he’s not having sex with them, he spends all his free time with me and Ryan. Thanks to that, they hate me. Refuse to be friends with me.
It’s made me an outcast amongst all the teenage girls we know, but I don’t really care. I hate them, too. They’re constantly after something that should be only mine.
The boys, however, are always flirting with me. That’s not so bad. Makes me feel wanted. I kind of need that considering I can’t get the one boy I want above all to pay attention to me that way. The problem is, neither my brother or Brayden like the attention the boys have started giving me in the last few months.
They’ve made it clear, too. Thanks to that, the boys are now giving me a wide birth.
I might as well buy myself a T-shirt that says, “Ass-kicking coming through. Move out of the way.”
Freaking assholes. They can sleep with whoever they want, but God forbid anyone shows interest in me. I don’t know any other fifteen-year-old girl who hasn’t even been kissed yet.
Doesn’t matter that I’m desperate for Brayden to do it, that yesterday was my birthday and all I kept wishing was that he’d give me that kiss. I’m starting to realize that might never happen, and I shouldn’t be forced to wait for him, either.
“There you are.”
I swear to God, I almost jump off the bench and straight onto the tree in front of me, heart pounding like a helicopter, sending me almost into hyperventilation from being scared. I turn to glare at Brayden and the damn phone light he’s shining in my face. “You sick fuck! You’re always trying to kill me!” I hiss, clutching at my chest.
His low chuckle deflates all my anger. Just like that. He moves around the trunk of the tree and aims his phone light away from me. In it’s glow, his face is highlighted and, as always, I’m stunned speechless at how gorgeous he is.
No, Brayden Hunt isn’t just gorgeous. He’s straight-up sexy in every way that can possibly count. Taller than Ryan’s six foot by a couple of inches, muscles built from years on the swim team, and add into that his God given features that are getting sharper every day. He’ll be eighteen next month, and he’s looking more and more like an adult.
If he doesn’t ugly it up a bit by the time he becomes a full-grown man, I don’t know how I’ll survive looking at him and not having him.
I'm barely surviving it now.
His dark green eyes are crinkled at the corners as he smiles down at me. He recently cut his straight black hair, so now it’s shorter on the sides and longer up on top. When he tilts his head down to look at my little hangout spot and the bench I’m sitting on, a few strands fall onto his forehead.
Brayden swipes his hair back with one hand and moves closer to me.
I can’t freaking breathe, and with every step that he takes toward me, I feel like I die a little more inside.
“What are you doing back here by yourself?” he asks me in that tone I swear he reserves only for me.
Somehow, I find my voice. “Shut off the light, will you? You’re advertising my whereabouts to the world, useless.”
He laughs at that. Sometimes, I swear he lives to be verbally abused by me. He seems to like it a little too much.
Moving to sit on the bench next to me, he dims the light instead of turning it off. I move over to make room for him, but the bench is tiny, so he ends up pressed up against me anyway. I almost choke as his heat seeps through my skin. His scent.
Oh my Go
d, I can’t deal with it right now. I want to kiss him so bad I'm almost shaking.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he murmurs, reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear. His fingers trail across it lightly, and I stare straight ahead, biting the corner of my lip to hold back a moan as a shiver rips down my spine. “Why are you back here by yourself?”
My voice is shaky when I answer him, but there’s no help for it. I’m barely keeping it together. My body is screaming at me to climb on his lap and beg him to please give me some relief. To give me what he so freely gives all the other girls. “You and my brother are douchebags who have warned all the guys away from me, and the girls . . . well, they hate me because I’m always with you.”
He’s silent for a bit, his fingers sliding into my hair and caressing the back of my head. I’m still staring straight ahead, fighting the urge to melt into his touch. “Don’t pay attention to the girls. They’re stupid.”
I intertwine my fingers and hold my hands together tightly. Then why do you sleep with them?
Why don’t you want me that way?
“And the boys?” I finally whisper, throat tight.
“They’re stupid, too. None of them deserve you.”
That just pisses me off. Scoffing, I slap his hand out of my hair and move as far away from him as I can on this small bench. “You’re stupid. That’s for me to decide, not you.”
“Your brother doesn’t think they’re good enough for you, either.” He sounds just as annoyed as I feel.
Why? What right does he have to choose for me? “He’s my brother. You’re not,” I snap, so angry that I turn to glare at him.
As always, he just glares right back at me, stubborn as all hell.
I want to reach up and yank his hair out.
I want to pull on his hair and force him to kiss me.
Instead, I shove it all down as I always do, nearly choking on all of it. “You have no right to get between me and the other guys.”
He scowls at me, looking dangerous in the dim light of his phone. “The hell I don’t.”
“Whatever.” I’m too angry to deal with him, to hurt at the fact that I know he’ll be fucking one of the girls here by the end of the night—and yet, he thinks he has the right to clit-block me? “I’m out of here. You’re annoying.” I move to stand.