by L. J. Woods
“You mean King’s going to be more of a downer?” Christian’s date asks.
Who the fuck …
Christian laughs, his arms by his side and Isaac joins him. When I glare at his date she’s quick to apologize. “I’m sorry.”
“She’s not wrong,” Christian says, taking a glass from Isobel when she walks into the foyer with a tray. “When’s the last time you hit the ice with us? Or threw a party or had fun? It’s like you don’t even exist anymore and if it wasn’t for Jo you wouldn’t even be going to prom.”
“Don’t sweat it, Jo’s crazy about you,” Isaac says. “Just stop being a fucking prick, will ya?” He’s one to talk, giving Christian’s date a wink.
Christian pulls her close as I grab a drink from the tray, gesturing to Isobel not to give Isaac one of his own.
“I have a plan,” I say, taking my drink to the door. And I’m too impatient to talk about it. “Let’s go.”
The entire ride to the school is a daze and I’m almost too fucking sober to bear it.
Am I stupid for doing this? Am I fool to think she’ll come around?
Isaac passes the bottle of whiskey to me after we pick up his date and I’m so tempted to take it. But I don’t want to give her a reason to say no. Don’t want to give her another reason to second-guess this. To second-guess us.
The situation plays out in my head over and over, the key she left behind in my pocket. I need her back in my life and I don’t know if I can rebuild a business with my name without her. I’ve been up for weeks thinking about her lips, her touch and that voice. That fight in her that’ll never get old, that look in her eye when we’re trapped together, in a space just for us.
“You coming in?” Christian leans into the limo and I take a second to come back to reality.
We’re already at the academy and I don’t even notice everyone climbing out.
“Let’s do this,” I say, taking a breath before climbing out of my seat. “It’s the last time I enter this hellhole.”
It takes a few minutes to get inside, students stopping to greet me since I’ve been gone for so long. Some didn’t expect to see me, like Tommy who looks scared shitless. But I’m only here for one thing.
The gym looks like an over-the-top wedding. Bouquets of flowers are all around us between sparkling lights. Canopies and balloons decorate the ceiling, white cloths on the tables and chairs. Everyone looks like they’re trying to be the best version of themselves and it makes me want to gag. Nothing in here is as authentic as she is. Standing in the foyer, I scope out the scene, ignoring the boom of my chest as I scan the crowd for her.
Jo.
Mine.
It would be like her not to come and there’s a chance she won’t but—
“Dude,” Isaac taps me on the shoulder, missing the third time. “Fuck.”
Glancing towards his fucked up gaze on the entrance, my breath damn near leaves me. He’s right. “Fuck.”
Jo looks like a fucking queen.
My queen.
And only she would look this fucking incredible with those dirty boots on. But that’s what makes her, well, her. And I wouldn’t trade it for the world. She catches my eye for a moment, a trance song matching my heartbeat in the background. There’s a pull in my stomach, a twitch in my pants.
“King!” Vicky’s here for Isaac but she still eyes me up like the hungry-for-attention girl she is. “Didn’t think to see you here since you’re such a big businessman and all.”
I smirk. “Not anymore.”
“Didn’t you hear? King sold off daddy’s company to the Carsons.”
“No way!” Vicky seems awestruck in a dress way too tight and short for prom. “Why?”
“I have other plans.”
Isaac whispers something into her ear and when I glance back towards the entrance, Jo’s gone.
Their words muffle as I make my way through bodies crowding and greeting each other, looking for my queen in that sexy outfit. When I don’t spot her, I make my way for one of the tables.
I’ll wait.
Pulling out a chair, I check my watch. T-minus three hours, Medusa.
* * *
This has got to be one of the longest three hours of my life.
Especially since she keeps glancing at me from her table.
The chair I’m sitting in probably has a permanent mould of my ass since I’ve been pushing into it trying not to go over there. Trying not to kiss her. Trying not to take her on that floor and show everyone once again, Jo is mine.
She looks so damn good tonight and I’ll admit I’m jealous that I’m not the one on her arm. Every time she looks at me she reaches for that water bottle that most likely contains vodka.
As time goes on, the reach for that bottle gets more frequent. Especially when she’s sitting alone at that table. Every guy that approaches her backs the fuck off when she glances my way, coming to apologize to me moments later. By twenty to eleven Christian is on the dance floor drunkenly grinding with his date while Isaac’s fucked off to god knows where. In the meantime, my girl checks her phone before rising from her seat.
Walking out the door, she doesn’t glance my way when she leaves and I’m only able to sit there for five minutes longer before I’m following her out. She’s not in the hall when I get there and every step towards the library feels like I’m walking on a plank. It’s dark when I get inside but I had all the little green lamps left on at a table near the back, telling Jo where to go. The copy of The Great Gatsby still sits on the table but she’s not there. That gives me time to set the mood, a little Hendrix blaring from my phone, a couple of tealights lit. Sitting at the desk, I unbutton my blazer, kicking my feet up on the chair beside me.
My foot wiggles when I get settled, my eyes towards the entrance.
Fuck, am I nervous?
What if she doesn’t show?
I’m prepared for this, at least I think I am. I just need to relax.
Eleven o’clock hits and I rise up off my seat so I can see the door.
Nothing.
At eleven-eleven. Still nothing.
At eleven-fifteen, my leg shakes again and if this is my fate, I’m heading right for Isaac when this is over.
At eleven-thirty that gut-punch hits my stomach, a lump in my throat but crying is for weak men. Weak men that can’t accept a loss.
“King?”
My heart jumps out of my chest when I hear my name before I register that voice wasn’t hers at all.
Peeking around the corner, Lea’s coming into the library in a dress like a fucking swan. Putting my hand into my blazer, I pull out the key and the joint I’ve been hiding in case. This counts as “in case”.
As far as I know. Nothing matters anymore.
“Are you doing your villainous brooding thing again?” she asks, in front of where I’m sitting. “Or can we talk?”
I pause, pulling the joint back from the flame of the small candle. “What is it? And did you bring punch?” This will have to wait.
“Ew, no. Tommy pees in that.” When she’s at the table, she pulls out the seat next to me, my feet falling to the ground. “I wanted to thank you.”
I arch an eyebrow while she struggles to sit in her poof of a dress. “For covering my ass and for having my back with the Allie stuff. And for coming to me first about Jo’s parents. Despite your exterior, you’re a good guy, Damien King and I’m happy to have known you in this poor excuse for Hades.” Her lip lifts to her nose when she looks around the room.
Looks like Allie’s actually turned Lea into a reasonable human.
“Just because you’re way too you for my liking, doesn’t mean I don’t get it. We’re from the same people, Huang.”
“Rich and psychotic?” That makes me chuckle. Her back hits the chair. “I can’t wait to go to New York. I’ll be at Columbia, Allie will be at NYU, and this will all be behind us.” Her eyes land on the key on the table before I can move it and Lea’s way too smart to not put this to
gether. “What’re you doing in here, anyway?” She looks around before she asks, “Is this a grand gesture? Wait, am I messing this up?”
Ignoring that question, the flame lights my joint.
“Oh,” she says, settling back in her seat. “She didn’t show up, did she?”
“Mind your business, Lea.”
“That’s the problem, King.” She drops her hand to my knee, her done-up eyes meeting mine. “You push everyone away. Whether you mean to or not.”
Smoke leaves my lips when I speak. “Is this a pep talk or a lecture?”
She shrugs and if there’s one thing about Lea, she’s always kept it honest. “I’m saying, I’ve never seen you go after anyone the way you went after Jo, and next time you can be a little more sensitive to the fact that you have feelings.”
“Like you were?”
“If I can come around, you can too.” She pokes my leg with a long gold nail before reaching in her hair and letting it down. Placing the long gold pins on my lap, she inhales before she says, “Give into those feelings.” With a big exhale, she looks up to the ceiling like she’s leading a yoga session. Her time with Perez shows again. “Because we all have feelings.” She gives me a strained smile.
“Not anymore.” I laugh at the face she’s giving me. Not after this. This shit hurts way too much. “And stop smiling, you look like a puppet and I don’t mean the good ones.”
Her shoulders drop before she stands up, taller in her gold heels. “Anyway, thanks for not telling anyone what happened with Jordan.”
“Don’t you think Jo needs some closure with that?” I ask, not sure why I still care about what happens to the girl that left me hanging again.
“What’re you gonna do?” Lea shrugs. “Throw my brother in jail? Our parents have been fucking shit up for us before we even set foot on this earth. This is another example but prom takes us one step closer to our freedom.”
“Freedom would be burning this shit to the ground. I don’t want this legacy. I don’t want Jo’s memories of her parents to be tied to this school. Tied to my family name.”
She smiles, looking around the room again. “Well, it would answer the question about what happens if someone finds out about Jordan.”
“Then it’s settled.” Picking up one of the candles, I smirk, not even sure if I’m joking anymore. It’s likely I’m acting out, it’s likely I’m going completely insane from being stood up by Jo but I don’t give a fuck. “Let’s burn this place to the fucking ground.”
“Something smells really good,” Allie’s voice comes from beyond the shelves.
“It’s about to smell even better.” Opening the book in front of me, I hold it above the flame, burning a few pages before it sparks into a ball of fire.
“Oh my god!” Lea screams and I jump, pushing the chair away.
“Holy shit!” Allie exclaims.
“The fuck is this thing made of?” Climbing on the table, I kick it off. It lands on a book on the wooden shelf next to us before it’s like dominos, the book next to it lighting up too.
“King? What did you do!?” Lea’s voice is a shriek before I hear the doors to the library again.
This isn’t what I meant but I guess this shit is happening.
“Are we seshing?” Isaac’s voice comes from beyond the shelves before he and Christian come into view.
Christian’s green eyes widen, the fire flickering in them. “Woah, what the fu—”
“Pull the fire alarm!” I instruct, mesmerized by the flame, the way it’s catching everything on the shelf, spreading to other books in its path. Wait. I look around at the group. “Where’s Jo?”
“I thought she was with you!” Christian and Allie say at the same time before they look to Isaac.
“Nah, I thought she was with you, King,” he points his chin to me before I turn to Lea.
She shrugs. “Don’t look at me!”
Fuck.
Her eyes land on the flames, growing bigger and bigger, the room getting warmer as we all just stand there.
“This is fucked.” Lea backs away, reaching for Allie’s hand. “I’m getting out of here.”
“Yeah, this isn’t good,” Johnson laughs.
“Where the fuck is Jo?” I growl again.
“Maybe she’s with Nate,” Allie says, rushing with Lea towards the exit.
“Maybe who’s with Nate?” Quinfrey’s voice fills the air. “Is there a fucking bonfire in here?”
Christian rushes for the door. “I’ll get the alarm.”
My heart booms against my chest when I make it into the hall, smoke billowing out of the library. “Everyone get the fuck out!” Christian yells to the students in the front of the library. “Out!” he yells again before they all scurry.
My breaths pick up, scanning the halls for her. If no one’s with Jo, then where the fuck is she?
* * *
Jo
When I imagined myself at prom, Jameson wasn’t my date.
I had the sexiest guy in the school on my arm.
And I wasn’t trapped in a closet.
“Hello?”
Jiggling the doorknob again, it doesn’t budge and while I can pick a lock, there isn’t one.
“Fuck!” My boot slams against the door. Still nothing.
What kind of door locks from the outside?
I don’t even have my phone. Left it at the table when I saw Isaac heading for the halls. We ducked into the closet near the library so he could give me some weed. A couple of nugs to calm my nerves before I met Damien. To stay out of sight of chaperones, I stayed inside the closet to roll one up.
What I didn’t expect was Jordan Huang to peep his head in. It was the last thing I saw before the door closed.
And locked.
“Help!” I yell at the brown wood, banging my fists against it in hopes to get the attention of passersby. “Someone help!”
Wiggling the knob again, it still doesn’t budge. I’m not sure how long I’ve been in here at this point but I’ll be fucking pissed if everyone goes to the lake and leaves me here.
Not knowing the time makes me wonder if Damien’s waiting for me in the library. I spent the entire night staring at him, the events of the last school year playing over in my head. Every time I thought about my future without him it made that lump grow in my throat. Like I was closing a chapter on another thing I didn’t want to leave behind.
I want him to reassure me things will be okay with us. Together. I want to hear him say those three words again before I take the biggest risk of my life. Locking this thing down with Damien King doesn’t sound like the biggest move I’ve made, considering everything I’ve done up until now but believe me, it is.
I’m starting to think about lighting this joint anyway before the smell of smoke seeps into the room.
“Is something burning?” I mutter to the empty closet. It’s dark in here, save for the swinging bulb above my head casting this eerie glow over mops and janitor supplies. Looking down, smoke starts to creep in below the crack. “What the …”
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The loud sound startles me and is that the fucking fire alarm?
My palm bangs against the door. “Hello?!” Fuck, if no one could hear my voice before, with that alarm ringing over my head, it’s no use now.
Okay, don’t panic.
Pattering footsteps come from the other side of the door, the bass of the music cutting and okay, now I’m starting to panic.
Taking a deep breath, I start throwing everything I can at the door. The mop, the dustpan, the fucking “wet floor” sign. When nothing works, I throw my whole body against it.
No fucking use.
I’m starting to feel warm and I’m not sure if it’s because of the fire I’m imagining is erupting through this building or the fact that I’m so, fucking, scared.
Did Jordan do this?
Is he trying to kill me? Trying to finish the job?
Does he want Willow all to his own?<
br />
“Help!” I call, banging the door again.
The smoke starts to creep through the border of the door and the cracks. It’s not long before I’m transported to my eight-year-old self. The memories colliding with my reality.
My palms hit the door, my mind drifting to that night, and when my eyes land at the bottom of the door again, I see hints of red.
No.
“Someone! Please!” I yell, banging on the door again.
Tears roll down my cheeks, and I don’t think anyone’s coming. My forehead hits the door, my body buzzing with fear, anxiety and dread.
Did my parents know the fate that awaited them that night? Were they awake to feel their demise? Sliding to the floor, I curl my knees to my chest, my eyes shut tight and all I see is him.
Damien.
If I never get to see him again, at least I have the memories, his touch on my mind.
Rubbing my hands along my arms, I imagine it’s his cold, big hands on me and it only chokes me up even more. I don’t want the memories. I don’t want to imagine his touch.
I want him.
But like everything else I want in my life, that’s getting ripped away.
For good.
His face is on my mind, craving his touch as I dig into my pocket, pulling out the joint. I stare at the shitty roll.
My last high.
I guess this one is for him.
For Damien.
Twenty-Three
Damien
I didn’t expect it to go this way.
Didn’t expect to be standing outside while I watch the place I spent the last four years go up in flames.
That shit spread quicker than chlamydia at Isaac’s junior ball after-party.
“I still can’t find her,” Allie comes back to our circle with worried eyes. Christian and Isaac stand by me on their phones, mine in my hand. We’re all looking for the same girl.
My girl.
Jo.
Taking a look around me, the entire senior class is here. Everyone except her. Chaperones are all trying to keep us in check but most of the students live-stream the chaos around us. Half of them drunk off their asses or on something much stronger.