The Boy on the Bridge

by Sam Mariano

  My heart sinks when I realize what she means to do. Cracks as she makes contact.

  But then I realize… he turned away. Her lips only catch his cheek.

  My stomach does a somersault.

  Hunter pretends nothing happened and Valerie tries to play it off, but when she turns around, I can see how flushed her face is even underneath the layers of makeup.

  Hunter looks right at me like he’s known precisely where I’m standing in this crowded gymnasium since he entered it. A seemingly impossible feat in this sea of bodies, nearly all of them wearing the school colors.

  Then he winks at me.

  My stomach jumps, and my heart does flips that would put even the most athletic cheerleader to shame.

  I feel myself flush. Even though I know he can’t tell from so far away, I lift the camera under the guise of needing to take some pictures. Really, I just need to hide my face.

  More music plays and the cheerleaders do another number. Valerie finds me on the sidelines by pure accident and shoots me a look that should sink me six feet under the gymnasium.

  I’m tempted to smile at her, but I resist the urge to be needlessly mean. That’s her thing. Yes, I hate her, but I’m sure she’s embarrassed enough; I don’t need to add to it.

  Now that Hunter is out in the open, I’m hopelessly distracted for the rest of the assembly, but I try to take good notes. The marching band comes out and performs, so I snap more pictures.

  Finally, it’s time to announce homecoming court. The top five girls and the top five guys from senior class, as voted on by the student body.

  The guys are announced first and there are no surprises: Hunter Maxwell, Wally Kazinsky, Mark Poplowski, Ryden Sherlock, and Anderson Milner.

  Actually, Anderson does surprise me a bit.

  I know Hunter doesn’t actually get screening privileges, but I would’ve thought he’d discourage enough of his friends from voting for Anderson to make sure he didn’t make it on the stage with him at homecoming. There can only be one king and queen, but most of the court get titles, too—prince and princess, duke and duchess.

  Maybe he decided not to shun Anderson since I broke up with him. Maybe it’s a gesture of good faith because he doesn’t know we decided to give it another go.

  I’ve since come to doubt the soundness of that hastily made decision, but Anderson and I have seen so little of each other since, I haven’t even found time to bring it up.

  We’re still on for homecoming this weekend, but I’m having second thoughts about even going.

  It’s time to announce the ladies, so I position the nub of my pen against the paper and prepare to jot down all the names as they’re called.

  Valerie Johnson is announced first—shock of all shocks.

  I roll my eyes as I write her name, but I don’t bother looking up. Once the whole court is announced, I’ll snap a picture of all of them, but I don’t need individual shots of each person.

  Melina Eggers is next, then Angelina Adkins. One junior somehow sneaks in after that. Valerie shoots one of her friends a look of confusion as she walks up as if to say, “Who the fuck is she?”

  I smile at the excited volleyball player’s surprise victory and get ready to write the final name.

  Only, when the MC announces it, it sounds an awful lot like Riley Bishop.

  My heart seizes.

  That can’t possibly be right.

  There’s a murmur in the bleachers, but no one even cheers; they’re all as confused as I am.

  I look to Hunter thinking maybe he did this, but he looks surprised, too.

  What?

  The MC searches the crowd, apparently not even knowing what I look like. “Do we have a Riley Bishop in the house?”

  I feel like I’m going to throw up. Heat travels everywhere, making my cheeks flush as I hesitantly step forward.

  This is a nightmare. I don’t know how I could possibly have been voted in, but walking across the massive gym floor with everybody watching me is literally a nightmare I’ve had.

  “There she is,” says the MC with a big grin, clearly lacking awareness. “Let’s give it up for Riley Bishop.”

  Since they’re being told to this time, there is a mild cheer from the bleachers.

  My stomach rocks. My legs feel shaky. So many people are watching.

  “I think there’s been a mistake,” I tell the MC, my voice shaking a little because of my upset nerves.

  He laughs. “No mistake. Come on, take your place with everyone else.”

  “I write for the paper. I’m supposed to take a picture, not be in the picture.”

  This time he ignores me and turns his attention back to the crowd, who need a little hyping now that my name has been called.

  I feel hot and shaky as I walk over to stand with the people I most assuredly do not fit in with. The volleyball girl flashes me a smile, but I find it hard to look at anyone else.

  Approaching Hunter in public has never worked out very well for me, and I’m standing up here on display with him now.

  He’s at ease in a situation like this, but I’m a mess in front of this crowd.

  I can scarcely breathe already, and then Anderson walks over to stand beside me. Horror swells up as he grabs my shoulder, and before I can stop him, he leans in and kisses me right on the mouth.

  I am too horrified to kiss him back.

  My chest feels like it’s going to cave in. My gaze jumps to Hunter.

  His face is a mask of shock, his brown eyes locked on me, burning with barely restrained anger.

  Anderson must not notice my corpse-like enthusiasm, because he settles his arm around my shoulders and turns to face the crowd with a big smile on his face.

  Oh my God.

  I’m surprised I can hear anything with the cheers from the crowd, but from just a few feet away, I very distinctly hear Hunter ask, “Why did he just kiss her?”

  “Oh, didn’t you hear, baby?” Valerie chirps, sliding her arm around his waist and shooting me a sparkling, conniving smile as she hugs him. “They got back together after my party.”

  Chapter Thirty One

  Hunter

  Rage tingles beneath my skin, tensing my muscles as I stand there looking out at the bleachers but only seeing red.

  Valerie’s words are an explanation, but that kiss… that kiss was a fucking punch to the gut.

  Didn’t matter that she wasn’t into it—again.

  Didn’t matter that she looked absolutely horrified that I was seeing it.

  He kissed her and he felt comfortable enough kissing her to do it with the whole school watching.

  He kissed her and she fucking let him.

  She got back together with him.

  Unbelievable.

  I ask her to homecoming and she tells me no.

  I guess that means she’s going with him.

  She doesn’t even like him. Anderson Milner is the boyfriend equivalent of the fifth safety school you apply to, not the coveted fucking Ivy Leagues.

  Riley deserves better.

  Yet, she shot me down to go with that motherfucker.

  Here I am sending her flowers every week like a lovesick idiot, and someone else gets the pleasure of her company.

  That better be all he’s fucking getting.

  I look over at Riley again, remembering what she said by the oak tree about not enjoying being the center of attention. I can see she meant it. Her face is somehow pale and drawn while being flushed and covered with a light sheen of perspiration at the same time.

  Valerie is so proud of herself. She can barely contain it as she squeezes me, somehow thinking she’s won the prize. Like I’m a goddamn trophy she can put on display to impress all her friends with.

  Look what I have.

  Disgust settles in my gut. I push her off me and step away. It’s too hot in here to be grabbed and clung to anyway, but if someone’s going to cling to me, I don’t want it to be her.

  My gaze drifts back to Riley. Everyon
e was encouraged to wear the school colors today, and while Riley isn’t much for team spirit, she is obedient enough to listen to any rules that are thrown her way.

  As long as they don’t come from me, apparently.

  She’s wearing a red Hawthorne High T-shirt—I’m surprised she even owns one—with a black cardigan and a pair of black leggings that hug her ass pretty damn nicely. Her long brown hair is down and not even slightly messed with since she couldn’t have possibly guessed she would wind up in front of a camera today.

  I glance over at Valerie. She knew to be prepared, so she’s all made up, not a hair out of place even though she was jumping around, fake lashes on so her eyes will pop for the camera.

  The announcement of homecoming court ends the pep rally. Now it’s time for everyone to leave except for us. We’ll head out to the field and pose for pictures.

  Riley looks relieved that this part is over, but she looks a little lost as we’re directed to make our way outside.

  She’s still clutching her notebook like her life depends on it, her camera hanging uselessly at her side. She’s using the cheapest purse I bought her. I haven’t seen her use the blue one yet.

  Since I’m not being nice to her, Valerie grabs Melina’s arm and they commiserate as we head out on the field.

  I glance at volleyball girl—don’t know what her name is—and see she’s got her hair and makeup pretty much together. I speed up and fall into step beside her.

  “Hey, can you help Riley?”

  She looks over at me, surprised. “Me?”

  I’m mad as hell at Riley, but I don’t want her to be embarrassed. “Yeah. Buy her a few minutes to calm down, shake that ‘deer in the headlights’ look, maybe loan her some lip gloss. The announcement caught her by surprise, she’s not ready to get in front of a camera.”

  “Sure. I’ll tell Tim some of us girls need a few minutes to primp first.”

  “I’d appreciate it,” I tell her.

  I don’t tell her which one Riley is, but only one girl on the field looks like her name was just called to participate in the Hunger Games instead of homecoming court, so she’s pretty easy to pick out of the crowd.

  I hang back and talk to Wally while the girls freshen up. I’m not paying much attention to him, but I doubt he’s saying much. I only picked him to talk to because where he’s standing, I can catch glimpses of what Riley’s doing in the background.

  Volleyball girl hauls her away from Anderson, which is the first thing she does right. Then she chats her up long enough for Riley to recover her composure. Her complexion returns to normal, her eyes lose the glint of sheer terror. She even has the presence of mind to smooth down her hair, then the other girl opens her purse and offers up her lip gloss.

  Riley seems to realize we’re about to get our picture taken, so she reaches into the purse I bought her and pulls out a compact. I wasn’t even sure she’d have one on her. Riley doesn’t wear much makeup. She doesn’t like to draw much attention to herself.

  Meanwhile, Valerie is talking to Tim, organizing her photo shoot. “I was thinking we could do a shot over here on the bleachers. The girls can sit with our legs stretched out in front of us, one knee up—it’s a standard cheer pose, a lot of girls do it for senior pics. Those of us with poms can sit up front and place them on the bench in front of us for an added pop. Then the other girls can sit on the row behind us, and the last girl on the row behind that so we’re forming a V, and each of us can have a guy standing behind us. Obviously, my boyfriend behind me, and the other girls with the other guys. And then I guess that one random girl at the back with Sherlock.”

  “Thanks,” Sherlock murmurs dryly.

  Valerie rolls her eyes. “I don’t even understand how that happened. I thought Kaela was a lock for fifth. Is that girl even a senior?”

  Valerie bitches a bit more, then Riley and the other girl finish up and make their way over to us.

  Tim takes Riley’s camera so he can take a shot for the paper since she won’t be able to do it herself. Valerie and Angelina sit down on the front row of bleachers and get in position.

  I don’t particularly want to stand with Valerie. If Anderson hadn’t just put his fucking mouth on her, I’d stand behind Riley no matter how much shit it kicked up, but right now I’m pretty pissed, so I take my spot behind Valerie.

  Riley’s on the bench directly behind me complaining about this stupid pose. Anderson assures her we’re doing other poses, too, so maybe they won’t use this one.

  She sighs heavily. I bet she feels dumb sitting there with her leg out like a cheerleader. “Why couldn’t we be the back couple?” she asks. “Nyla and that guy don’t have to sit like idiots.”

  Valerie tenses in front of me, hearing her staging directions criticized by Riley.

  I tense too, hearing Riley refer to herself and Anderson as a couple.

  Just to be a dick, I slide my hands around Valerie’s small waist and lean down like I’m kissing her neck. Really, I’m just hovering and trying to ignore the perfume cloud I can practically taste getting this close to her, but Riley won’t be able to tell.

  “Ready?” I ask, so I have an excuse to lean in like this.

  Valerie turns her head to look up at me, her blue eyes sparkling with pleasure. “I’m always ready,” she says suggestively.

  Yeah, I bet you are.

  I brought it on myself, so I can’t say much about her blatant come on. I smile faintly and straighten back up.

  I’m sorely tempted to look back at Riley and see what shade of pink she is, but instead I settle a hand on Valerie’s shoulder and get ready for the picture.

  I expect to feel some satisfaction when that shot is done and I can finally glimpse Riley without being obvious, but when I look at her, it isn’t satisfaction I feel.

  Anderson’s hand is around her waist and she’s fallen quiet, her expression solemn and pensive. I’m not sure she even notices him touching her. If she does, she doesn’t care one way or the other.

  We do a few more poses and Tim takes a few more pictures, but Riley doesn’t speak again. She’s off in her own world, just going through the motions with us.

  I know I’m the one who chased her off, but it’s pure hell not being able to reach her.

  It’s hell hearing her telling me no, and wondering if she’s telling him yes.

  I didn’t worry about that before. I knew Riley was on hold for me. For one thing, I’d made my position as clear as fucking day to all my friends before I left. It didn’t matter how many continents were between us, if one of them started sniffing around Riley, I would find out about it and they’d learn pretty fast how far I can reach when I’m pissed off.

  I’ve always had that inside me, but spending those years with my dad and actually seeing where it came from, it helped me understand it better, hone it in a lot of ways.

  As mad as I was at Riley for getting me sent away, I wouldn’t even have a relationship with my father if not for her.

  I wouldn’t be who I am if not for her.

  I’m not sure she can say the same of me.

  I’m not sure Riley needs anybody.

  That shouldn’t rankle so fucking much, but it does.

  I want her to need me.

  The last time I needed someone more than they needed me was when my mom almost let her husband kill me. That hurt like hell, and once I got past it, I vowed never to let that happen again.

  The problem is, Riley didn’t come after. By the time I vowed to protect myself, she had already slipped in and made an impression. It didn’t feel like a threat at the time because I didn’t need to protect myself from Riley.

  But now she’s standing here with the guy I told her to drop, the one she’s going out with after shooting me down, and now… she doesn’t feel so harmless.

  Sometimes I’m impressed by it, but sometimes I can’t fucking stand her knack for saying no to me. Her unwavering ability to make up her mind and stick to her guns—even if she doesn’t rea
lly want to.

  I thought I could wait her out. I was sure I could reel her back in even if I’d crossed her line. After all, she reeled my ass back in after she upended my whole life.

  If I can’t stay mad at her, she shouldn’t be able to stay mad at me. I can’t afford to let her have that kind of power over me if I don’t have the same power over her.

  It shouldn’t be so hard.

  I know people. I know everyone’s for sale; with some people, you have to look a little harder to find their price, but everybody has one.

  Riley might be unique, but she’s still a human being—with all the faults and weaknesses that entails.

  If I want Riley, I may need to use a completely different currency than I’m used to. I can keep chipping away at her, but I won’t get far using the same ineffective methods.

  A different sort of man might call it, cut his losses, accept defeat.

  It’s not in me to accept defeat. “No” doesn’t really mean no; it means find another way.

  Maybe I haven’t found Riley’s price because I’ve been making offers that work on other people, but Riley has different priorities. That’s why I thought she’d like the book; it was more personal, tailored specifically to her.

  It’s not enough, though. I have to do more than make her want me. She has to need me. She might want me already—she’ll still say no.

  She can be so fucking stubborn sometimes, but I guess I can be, too.

  It’s not like she didn’t warn me. She told me she’d never forgive me for Valerie.

  Most people don’t mean what they say.

  Riley did. She meant it. Even if she could forgive me, she won’t let herself. She made her position clear from the get-go, and she will hold my ass accountable even if it costs both of us.

  I can tempt her, but I can’t win.

  Well, maybe I can, but not on my terms.

  I don’t want to win a permanent spot in her heart by coming clean. She didn’t win her permanent spot in mine by keeping her word.

  I wanted her desire for me to overcome all the other bullshit. I wanted her surrender.