Evanescent

by Addison Moore

  I give a quick nod. She had me for a minute, and my heart lurched at the thought of Wes “taking” her in such an intimate way—audience or not.

  “I doubt you’d embarrass yourself beneath the sheets,” I assure her.

  “Then what were you nodding your head for?” She leans in seductively.

  “I was nodding my head because we wouldn’t make it beneath the sheets.” I hold the smile from forming on my lips. “You’d be lucky if we made it to the bed.” I almost phrased that last sentence in present tense as if it were imminently about to happen.

  “We’re going to bed right now,” she teases, trying to lift me by the fingers. Her light erotic touch sends a fire line from my hand all the way down to my desperate man parts.

  “You’re going to bed, Laken.” I toss the empty carton onto my desk and stretch out on the sleeping bag that’s been messing up my back the better half of the week. “I’ll be down here, flushing my football scholarship down the toilet.”

  “Coop!” She slaps her hand over her mouth.

  “I’m teasing. I swear they say a stiff surface does wonders for your back.” All of them bad, but I leave that part out. “Look, you’re his spirit wife now. The Counts take everything you’ve done seriously, and until we can figure a way out of this mess, I really want us to take it that way, too. I can ruin things for you. I’d hate myself if I did.”

  “So—what? I belong to Wesley?”

  I stare at her for a good while. Her golden hair, her perfect lips that I long to cover with mine.

  “Yes, Laken.” My heart gives an unnatural thump. “I believe you do.”

  On Friday night, as the clouds filter in low and cover the football field like stretched cotton, Wes jogs over before I have the chance to put on my helmet.

  Here we go.

  I pan the bleachers for no apparent reason. I know full well the only person I want to see is already cheering on the sidelines—and I’d like to think it’s for me.

  “Hey, Coop.” Fog billows from his mouth as he digs his hands deep in his pockets. He’s wearing a thick wool coat that makes his shoulders look twice as broad as reality would have them, and for a second I wonder if he chose to wear it as a means of intimidation.

  A quick pulse of laughter trembles through me at the thought of Wesley choosing his wardrobe with me in mind.

  “What’s up?” I look out at the field. We’re playing Croft—a bunch of pussies who use their overinflated shoulder pads as a means of intimidation much like the one standing before me.

  “The Spectators are up, Coop.” He takes a step in until our elbows touch. “The Counts want them gone.”

  “I don’t see why. They haven’t caused trouble in a while.” Shit. Wes might lead Laken to the Celestra tunnels, but only the Tobias sisters are going to help us get our families out. And no Spectators, means no Tobias reunion—making their offer to get our families out of the tunnels null and void.

  “It’s not up to me.” He ticks his head back. “Look, I don’t need you giving me grief. Launch a major assault. The Counts want each one of them gone by Christmas—do as you’re told.”

  What the hell?

  “Most of them have been gone for eons, and now, just like that, I’m supposed to hunt them down and kill them. And, by the way, how the heck do you expect me to do that? My bare hands?”

  Wes glares right through me with a look of pure evil.

  “You’re a smart guy, Coop. Always getting what you set your mind to.” The words hang like a vulture as it circles its prey. “I don’t care what you kill them with. You can use yourself as weapon and detonate in their midst. Just get the damn job done.” He stalks off, blending into the crowd.

  I turn to find Laken staring right at me, her face rife with curiosity.

  The opposing team floods the field.

  Coach motions me over. Not being one to break with tradition, I run past the cheerleaders, and we exchange high-fives until I get to Laken and linger for a moment.

  Counts want the Spectators dead—every single one.

  She shakes her head in distress. Crap. The last thing I wanted was to worry Laken.

  I continue down the line before jogging out to meet with the team.

  Just touching her for that brief moment enlivened me in ways that only last summer I would have denied existed. “True love” was just some hippy-dippy concept that came from the land of unicorns and rainbows.

  A slow spreading grin takes over as I crush my helmet over my head.

  I wonder if she felt that spark? If she feels anything at all for me? Who knows? Tonight just might shape up to be the luckiest night of my life.

  “Flanders.” Flynn barks while shoving his hand into my shoulder. We step outside the huddle for a moment. “Found an entire tribe of the fuckers setting up camp by Olsen Creek. Mostly men, but some jacked up women—a few girls.” He says it with the hint of a greasy smile, and this unnerves me.

  Flynn Masterson should be required to stay ten feet from all girls on the planet, living or dead.

  “The Counts want them all gone—they just gave the order.”

  “All?” His brows pitch. “With what, your bad breath?”

  “I thought maybe you could use your killer charm. Hit on them and they’ll voluntarily off themselves.”

  “Shit. We need to act, and we need to act now. You need to stall.”

  “If I don’t flush them out before Christmas, the Counts will move on. They’ll assign the job to someone else.” And, in a way, I wish they would.

  Flynn sighs, spraying a white film through his nostrils.

  “Dude.” He shakes his head. “You must have pissed them off pretty good. Sounds like they’re sending you off on a suicide mission.”

  I cast a quick glance into the bleachers and spot Wes. The harsh stadium lights bleach him out a dull grey like stainless steel.

  “I don’t know about a suicide mission,” I say. “Sounds more like murder.”

  Eradicate the Spectators—off me in the process. I can think of one person that would benefit.

  I watch as Laken smiles and waves in the distance, swaying her hips for the crowd.

  Wes has found a way to eliminate more than the Spectators from this planet. He’s engineered the perfect plan to make sure I’m one of the casualties.

  Well played Wes, but the game isn’t over yet.

  Not by a long shot.

  Once the bodies and debris clear off the field, Melville House becomes the central location for debauchery. Most of the resident jocks are holed up at Melville, so it only makes sense. Plus, it’s the most distal male dorm on campus, and hardly any of the night patrol gives a shit what goes on down here. I guess they figure enough cash runs through this place, the kids are entitled to a little fun. Most of the house parents are former residents, so they tend to turn a blind eye once the beer starts to flow, and blunts brighten the periphery like a string of Christmas lights. Rumor has it the house parents have been known to stock a liquor cabinet or two.

  Bodies file into Melville and stream throughout the overgrown room like swarms of locusts. I wish it were empty. That it was only Laken and me. I wonder if that will ever happen, if Laken and I will ever happen. If Wes gets his memory restored, I’m pretty sure she’ll renew her relationship with him. I’ll have to savor those stolen moments of the two of us in my bedroom. She’s been staying with me every night this week. Jen seems clueless, and Hattie doesn’t care, but something tells me if Wes found out, he’d have my ass on a pole.

  “So I got my dress.” Grayson appears from nowhere. Her blonde hair holds the slight scent of bleach as she moves in close, tucking her hip into mine. “It’s actually teal, so forget all about the turquoise. We’ll need to get you a tie to match. Don’t fuck this up, kay? I’ve got a professional photographer who might use us in a print ad if I play my cards right.”

  I bet “playing her cards right” includes entertaining him in a horizontal position later in the evening. Although she
slept with Flynn while I was with her for less than a print ad. Or at least I thought I was with her. Not sure what I was doing in the first place.

  Her blood red lips keep yapping, but all I can think about is how I will most assuredly “fuck things up” because I didn’t even realize there was a color difference between the two hues. And how many hours am I going to have to log down at Maria’s to pay for this brain malfunction? If I had thought things through, I could have stayed home that night. I can’t think of one good reason I’m headed to homecoming with Grayson other than trying to fool Wes, and something tells me there’s no fooling Wes.

  Laken walks into Melville, and the room stills—at least for me.

  Her smile fades to zero as her crystalline eyes narrow in on Grayson with her arm slithering over my chest.

  Shit.

  Grayson smooths her arm over my shoulders, and I try to casually disembark from her unwanted embrace. She drones on about hotel arrangements and how many bottles of champagne we’ll need to entertain the guests at our after party.

  “Also”—she blows the word into my ear—“I’ll be wearing something pink and lacey, that happens to come with feathers, just for you.” She takes a bite of my earlobe, and I flinch.

  “Where you going?” She zooms in and runs her hand up my thigh, securing a grip over my crotch with the dexterity of a garden snake.

  “Okay.” I let out a nervous laugh as I push her away. “Lavender belt. Got it.”

  Grayson gasps. “Teal tie!” The veins on her neck protrude like cords. Her face contorts with shock like I just kicked her in the gut.

  Laken pops up next to her and gives a private smile at Grayson’s newfound distress.

  “Have either of you seen Flynn?” She says it friendly enough—benign for that matter, but Grayson channels some uncalled for aggression in her direction.

  “I guess you need someone to slut around with now that Cooper’s taken.” Grayson wraps a loose curl around her finger. “Anyway, Coop”—she touches her hand to my cheek, and I don’t stop her—“if you’re craving a little R and R you know where to find me.” She gives a brief wink before strutting off into the crowd.

  “R and R?” Laken looks simultaneously pissed and cute as hell in the process. As lame as it is, I’m flying high off the fact she might actually be jealous. Jealousy is born from something. In this case, I’m hoping it’s just a hair away from love because I think that’s exactly what I’m feeling for her.

  “Rest and relaxation,” I say. It’s code for blowjob, but I’m not clueing Laken in on that tidbit. Grayson likes to help a lot of guys get some R and R. Rumor has it her entire acting career hinges on the respite benefits she provides.

  Laken’s face crumbles. Her perfect lips twitch under duress for a moment before recovering.

  “What a mess,” she whispers below the music.

  “What’s a mess?” I can guess, but I’d rather not go there.

  Laken looks up at me, her eyes filled with sorrow.

  “We are, Coop.” She strains the words through hesitation. “I thought we had something. I thought maybe I was wrong about Wes and me, that if he never came back—if he was too far gone that it would be me and you.” Her eyes glitter in this dim light. “But Grayson…” she shakes her head. “She’s beautiful. You look good together, and by the way that makes me want to hurl.” She sticks her tongue out playfully, and I suddenly want to catch it with my teeth. A surge of adrenaline pushes through me at the thought of Laken wanting me on some level—but Wes is the condition. A part of me hopes he never gets his memory back.

  “I guess I got caught up in the moment,” she continues. “I’m sorry if I led you on. I never meant to do that. And I would never expect you to wait around for me while I try to figure things out.” She sniffs and gives a little shrug. “I care about you, Coop. And if a little R and R with Grayson makes you happy then that’s what I want for you.” Her voice breaks with that last sentence. Laken’s chest quivers. She stands before me in her Ephemeral-issued cheer skirt, her hair still high in a ponytail with a bow on top. In a roundabout way Laken Stewart is breaking up with me. She thinks I want Grayson and those overblown lips of hers massaging me into a sexual euphoria rather than the perfection that is her.

  I’d like to tell her how I feel, but I can’t. There aren’t enough words to describe these incredible feelings. So I do the only thing I can—show her. I gently grab the back of her neck and crash my lips to hers. Laken swipes her tongue over mine, and I indulge in something far more primal, much more intense and viral than I had ever hoped to achieve.

  The world stops spinning. I’m having a heightened sexual experience right here, in the middle of the student body, through the portal of Laken’s mouth. My stomach clenches as she pushes in deeper, and a moan vibrates from her throat to mine.

  Laken pulls back, her face red with shock. She looks past my shoulder at the door, her fingers still interlaced with mine.

  Wes. Her chest heaves from the state of nirvana we just launched ourselves into.

  Laken hurls her open palm in my direction and ignites a fire across my cheek.

  “You bastard!” She screams it in my face with her left hand still clutching mine.

  See you at the ridge at midnight, she says before taking off in Wesley’s direction.

  My heart soars. That kiss personified everything we could be—everything electric.

  Wesley is the enemy, and Laken knows it. She’s just using him in an effort to save our families. He’s a necessary evil for the time being just like Grayson.

  I watch as he ushers her out the door with his hand firmly planted over the curve of her skirt.

  She might be in Wesley’s arms for the next few hours, but she’ll be in my bed tonight.

  Wesley

  My heart pounds against my chest like a judge sounding a gavel. I’m fucking finished with Flanders. He signed and sealed his death warrant tonight by ramming his tongue down my girlfriend’s throat.

  “Just get me out of here.” Laken chokes the shit out of my hand like it was Cooper’s neck. And right about now, I’m betting she wishes it were. “I want to go someplace to forget about all this. Maybe Charity Lake? Or your room?”

  A smile cinches up my cheek at the thought of Laken being so ready and willing.

  “Yeah,” I say, leading her outside. “I’ll take you wherever you want.”

  The stars spray out like an umbrella over Ephemeral. It’s cold as hell with the frost already coating the pines—the grass. A layer of mist seeps from the forest and sails over the campus like a ghost.

  I glance back at Melville House pumping like a drum with its windows rattling from the noise. It’s taking all of my strength, not to go back in there and rip Flanders’ balls out from his throat.

  “What happened?” I slip my arm around her waist as we continue down the road.

  “I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “It’s weird because the Cooper Flanders I know doesn’t just manhandle girls. Last I heard, he was taking Grayson to homecoming.” She raises her shoulders to her ears. “I was talking to Carter, and the next thing I knew Grayson backed into me—she waved at someone and took off. Cooper was so wasted he lunged in my direction just as she left and planted one on me.”

  Aiming for Grayson and missed? Doubt it. I’m damn sure Coop hit his target tonight.

  “That’s probably it,” I say, brushing a kiss over her cheek. “Coop’s way too nice a guy to go around attacking girls, especially mine.” I’ll layer on the frosting, and make Coop look like a hero. When they find him lying in a ditch, I’ll be the last person Laken will suspect. Not that I’d kill the bastard—injure maybe.

  If that less than stellar performance he gave on the field tonight is any indication, the varsity team won’t be missing him too much, either.

  Laken looks up me with her eyes filled with fear.

  “Hey”—I press a kiss over her temple—“let’s get to Henderson before we freeze to death.” I ru
b her arm. “I’ll get you something warm to drink.” And if all goes well, we’ll be drinking each other down in less than an hour.

  I pull her in close and examine her under the pale light of the moon.

  “I have something special to show you in my room,” I whisper.

  She licks her lips and gurgles out a sexier-than-hell laugh.

  “You’re a dirty boy, Wes. You know that?”

  “That’s not what I was going to show you.” I hold back a smile. “But if you insist, I might give into your demands.” My lips curve at the thought. “Anyway, I really hope you’ll love it.”

  “I love everything about you, Wesley Parker.” She dots my lips with a kiss.

  I wrap my arm back around her waist as we head in the direction of Henderson Hall.

  She loves everything about me.

  Too bad she can’t remember my name.

  Laken nuzzles against me, blowing kisses in my ear all the way up the steps to Henderson. Her hair holds the scent of vanilla and flowers, a country meadow blinks through my mind like some long forgotten dream that I struggle to remember.

  It’s warm inside, toasty and well heated from the fire. The downstairs lights are dimmed just enough to give it a romantic feel—a code that lets me know one of my dorm brothers is about to get laid.

  “I’m freezing.” Laken takes off toward the fireplace before I can stop her.

  A tangle of bodies writhe over one another, then leap apart as Laken lets out a high-pitched scream.

  Fletch and some chick with a rack the size of grapefruits scramble to cover themselves. It’s only when she looks up do I see it’s Carter.

  “Shit, Laken.” Fletch tosses his shirt at her as he holds a pillow over his manhood. I know what I’ll be tossing in the fire later. “Can you scream any louder? I think I still have some hearing in my right ear.”

  “Oh stop, Fletch.” Carter buttons up her blouse. “She probably saw that log between your legs, and nobody wants to see their brother’s junk. Isn’t that right?”