Bad Intentions (Bad Love)

by Charleigh Rose

  Well, that was one hell of a first kiss. And I didn’t even make it to her mouth.

  * * *

  “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU doing here?!” When I finally find Jess, he’s being held back by Cordell, while Jake and some other guys I don’t recognize hold back two preppy looking assholes as they lunge for Jess.

  “I heard there was a party,” he says smiling, with a dark curl of hair hanging in his face, cigarette dangling from his lip, like he’s not in the middle of a barroom brawl.

  “Jesus Christ, Jess. What did you do?”

  “He sold us this bullshit!” Preppy Douche Number One chimes in, holding up a plastic baggy.

  “Don’t be mad just because you can’t tell the difference between bud and oregano.” Jess laughs. The other guy lunges for him again.

  “We want our sixty bucks back!”

  “Just give them their money back,” I say. Jess doesn’t make a move, but Dare walks up, standing between Jess and the other guys.

  “Get the fuck out,” he says to them. I hear the shocked gasps and whispers, but I don’t understand why.

  “Give me my money back and we’ll go,” the bravest and blondest one says, crossing his arms across his baby blue Lacoste polo.

  “You’re not getting shit. Consider it a sixty-dollar lesson not to buy drugs from a fucking high school kid,” Dare spits. Jess smirks triumphantly, and the other guy’s pale cheeks burn bright red with rage as he grits his teeth. He wants to argue, but thankfully, he doesn’t. I close my eyes and exhale in relief once they’re gone.

  “What are you thinking?” I yell, slapping Jess upside the back of the head. “What happened to keeping your head down and getting through school? Do you want to move back home?”

  “They’re just some stupid yuppy college kids, Lo. It’s not a big deal.” Jess tries to play it off because we’re in public, but I can tell he’s feeling sheepish. I see it in the way he averts his eyes and in the nervous laugh that slips out. Siblings know how to read each other better than anyone else.

  “This is our only shot. Stop trying your best to mess it up.”

  “My bad, Lo. Fuck.”

  “How’d you get here?”

  “My board,” he says, gesturing to where his skateboard lies on the floor next to the bar.

  “I didn’t drive.” I rise onto my tiptoes to scan the crowd that has already forgotten about this little altercation and has gone back to dancing and drinking, but I don’t see Sutton anywhere.

  “I’ll take you guys,” Jake says.

  “It’s your bar,” Dare points out before turning back to me. “I’m taking you. Come on.”

  Dare places a palm at the small of my back and guides me toward the door. I reach behind me, pulling on Jess’ sleeve to make sure he follows. I catch Jake’s eyes as I do, and he shakes his head, as if he’s disappointed.

  Dare opens the truck door for us, and Jess flips the bench seat forward to climb in back. I grip the side of the door to pull myself up, but before I do, two hands grip my waist, lifting me up and depositing me onto the seat. It smells like him in here. Like pine trees and leather seats. Dare slams the door shut and walks over to the driver’s side, and Jess clears his throat from the back seat.

  “Shut up. You don’t get to give me shit about anything right now.”

  “I didn’t say a word,” Jess says, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

  Dare hops in and looks over at me, his ocean eyes bright under the dome light.

  “Your house?” he asks, turning the ignition.

  “My car is at Sutton’s.”

  “I’m Jesse, by the way,” Jess says, resting his elbows against the top of the bench seat, chin propped on his forearm. “Lo’s brother.”

  “I gathered that,” Dare says flatly. “How do you know those guys?”

  “I don’t.” Jess shrugs. “They approached me for some bud when I was skating earlier. Guess I just have that kind of face,” he says sarcastically. “I saw an opportunity to make some cash, so I took it. Told them I didn’t have it on me, and they told me to meet them over here later. I knew Lo was at the costume party. Guess they followed me once they realized it was oregano.”

  I roll my eyes, resisting the urge to slap him again.

  “They’re East Shore kids,” Dare says. “They wouldn’t do shit.”

  “That’s not the point,” I say. I turn toward Jess, and he smothers a smile. “What?” I snap.

  “I just know you’re about to lecture me again, but it’s really hard to take you seriously when you look like that.”

  I completely forgot I was in costume. I flip down the visor to look in the mirror. My lipstick is smudged, but other than that, I don’t look too crazy. Dare looks over at me, his eyes heating as I fix my lips with the tip of my thumb, and I know both of us are mentally replaying how it got smeared in the first place.

  If Jess hadn’t intervened, Dare would’ve fucked me on that desk. I don’t know whether to hate him or thank him for it. I know it would have been a mistake. A big, fat, glaring mistake. I know that, but even now, even after the haze of lust has cleared, I want to do it again.

  I shake my dirty thoughts away, turning back to Jess.

  “Just…please, Jesse. Try. I don’t want to go back there. I can’t. And if you go back, I go back.” I choose my words carefully, not wanting to get too personal in front of Dare, but Jess knows exactly what I’m referring to. Eric. Mom. Everything.

  “You’re not going back, and he’s not getting near you,” Jess swears, his voice resolute and intense. I look at Dare from the corner of my eye, and though I can only see his profile, I see his eyebrows tugging together, curiosity piqued.

  I nod to Jess and pat his arm before sitting forward in my seat.

  “I’m not sure where Sutton lives,” Dare says, breaking the silence. “Briar mentioned the area once, but I don’t know exactly where.”

  I search my brain, trying to remember an address or even a street name, but I can’t focus. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I still have the remnants from his face paint smeared along the insides of my thighs, or the fact that I can still feel his teeth marks there.

  “She lives off Lakewood,” I say when it finally clicks into place. Dare turns onto Lakewood, and once he sees my dad’s Toyota, he pulls up next to it.

  “Thanks,” I say dumbly, not knowing what else to say, especially with my kid brother in the car, pushing the seat forward so he can slip out first. I’m jostled around from the movement, my palm slapping against the dash. My dress has ridden up, and my tights are ripped almost all the way down to my knees. I clamp them shut, feeling exposed from the cold air that hits my damp thighs. Dare eyes me up and down like he’s getting one last look before I leave. His right hand is on the steering wheel, and he lifts four fingers in a wave with a slight dip of his head.

  “Later, Sally.”

  “So, you and Dare, huh?” Sutton asks as she pulls an upside-down chair off the table as we prepare to open.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, playing dumb. I like Sutton. I like her more than anyone I’ve met here, so that basically makes her my best friend by default. She just doesn’t know it yet. But that doesn’t mean I want to fess up to what happened with Dare. It won’t happen again anyway, so there’s no point.

  “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” Sutton says, pointing a finger at me and lifting one perfectly plucked brow. “He doesn’t talk to anyone. Especially people he doesn’t know.” Is that why everyone seemed surprised when he jumped to my aid?

  “You hooked up with Dare?” Jake chimes in from behind the bar. I shoot a look at Sutton, and she mouths sorry with a sheepish shrug.

  “I barely know the guy,” I hedge, avoiding a straight answer. It’s none of his business anyway.

  “Just…be careful,” Jake finally says, then he and Sutton share a look I can’t decode.

  “What?” I ask, waving my hand in the space between them. “What was that about?”
/>   “He’s…dangerous. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  I scoff. Hurt? I don’t even know the guy. I’m not sure whether he means hurt in the physical or emotional sense, but either way, I can take care of myself.

  “I appreciate the concern, but I think I’ll survive.”

  “You don’t know that, Jake. I think he’s a good guy.” Sutton has a bite in her tone that I haven’t heard from her before. It surprises me.

  “Say that to his foster family,” Jake says, shaking his head. Sutton turns her attention back to me.

  “He’s misunderstood. Don’t believe everything you hear.”

  Jake makes a disapproving sound before disappearing to the back room.

  I go back to cutting up the oranges, lemons, and limes for the garnish tray. I’m dying to ask about Dare, but I don’t want to give Sutton more of a reason to believe there’s something going on there. So, I stay silent. And, annoyingly, she doesn’t offer anything else.

  After adding some maraschino cherries to the garnish tray, I check the time on the big wooden clock with a black bear on it that reads On Mountain Time. It’s two minutes until eleven, so I flip the sign from Closed to Open.

  The rest of the day goes by fast, and my pockets are already fat with tips and I still have two hours to go, so I’m feeling pretty good about life in general. Jake has been weird since earlier, not his usual flirty self, but I don’t let it put a damper on my mood.

  I walk toward the break room with a little extra pep in my step. But when I hear Jake’s irritated voice coming from the small office in the back, I stop in the doorway, the smile melting from my lips.

  “Shit,” he says under his breath, throwing his phone onto his desk. I tap my knuckles against the doorframe.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.

  “What’s up?” When he meets my eyes, his expression is sympathetic, as if my cat just died and he doesn’t know how to break it to me.

  “I have to cut your hours.”

  “What?” My fingers dig into the doorframe. “Why?”

  “That was Sam. The other owner. His pain in the ass niece is coming up for a while, and he told her parents he’d have a job for her. He didn’t realize I already hired someone.”

  “Okay, so make her a hostess or something,” I try.

  “You know the money is in the tips…”

  Exactly. And that’s my money.

  “Okay, so what are we talking here? Like thirty hours a week?”

  “More like fifteen. Maybe twenty. Possibly more once the busy season hits, because I’ll need you both.”

  “This is bullshit,” I mutter under my breath, unable to keep my frustration at bay.

  “I know it is. Believe me, I’d rather work with you every day than her. I’m not happy about it, either.”

  He seems to have his own reasons for being pissed, besides just cutting my hours. I know my anger is misdirected, but fuck. Fifteen hours? That’s nothing. Nothing. I exhale through my nose and close my eyes. I give myself a quick mental pep talk. I’m lucky to have a job. It just might take me a little bit longer to save up for a new place.

  Jake’s looking at me warily, as if I’m a volcano ready to erupt. I give him a terse nod before turning for the door.

  “Logan,” he says, but I wave him off.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just need to figure something else out.”

  My phone rings, but I don’t recognize the number, so I silence it, only for it to ring again immediately. I hold a finger up, letting Jake know I need to take it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, yes, is this Logan Shepherd?” It’s a woman’s voice, assertive, but somehow soft.

  “Yes…” I say, but it comes out as a question rather than a statement.

  “This is Susan Connelly. The principal at River’s Edge High School.”

  Oh God. What did Jess do? The sinking feeling in my gut multiplies times one million.

  “Is Jesse okay?” I ask, plugging my free ear with my finger in an attempt to hear her above all the noise of chattering customers and clanking dishes. I meet Jake’s eyes, and his forehead wrinkles with concern.

  “He’s okay, but he was involved in a fight on campus. I’m going to need you to come in so we can discuss his behavior and the resulting consequences.”

  “Okay. I’m on my way.”

  “Shit.” I shove my phone back into my pocket and turn to leave. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  “Is everything okay?” Jake asks, standing from his desk.

  “No. Yes. I don’t know. Jess got into a fight at school, and I have to go meet the principal.”

  “Do you want me to drive you?”

  “No, I have Henry’s car. Thanks, though. I’ll come right back,” I promise.

  Jake nods, and I’m out the door.

  When I arrive at the high school, I push through the double doors and walk to the same office I brought Jess to the other day. Lacey sees me storming toward her, and she quickly snatches the phone up to her ear and quietly mumbles something into the receiver. I spot Jess in a chair to my right with his head hanging low, and another kid sits a few seats away from him sporting a busted lip.

  I hurry over to him and squat down to his level, pulling his chin up to inspect him. He jerks his head out of my grasp, but not before I see traces of a bloody nose.

  “You good?” I ask, looking at the other kid out of the corner of my eye. I can’t coddle Jess in public. That’s the surest way to get him to shut down completely.

  “Fine,” he says, his lip slightly snarled.

  I hear a door open behind me, and a woman’s voice follows.

  “Miss Shepherd, Jesse. Please, come with me,” the principal says. She’s tall and thin with her short blonde hair slicked back into a low ponytail. “Stay put,” she says, pointing a finger at the other kid. “We’re still trying to get ahold of your parents.”

  I hear the kid mumble a sarcastic good luck with that right before the office door closes behind us.

  “Have a seat,” she says, gesturing toward two wooden chairs with blue padding. There’s a man standing off to the side of the room wearing a white polo with the school’s logo, a hat, and a whistle around his neck.

  “This is Coach Standifer. He’s our P.E. teacher. Jesse was in his class at the time.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he says, offering his hand. I shake it and give a wobbly smile before sitting down. Jess takes the seat next to me.

  “I understand that you’re his sister?” Mrs. Connelly asks.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “We usually require a legal guardian for this type of thing, but I understand your case isn’t…typical.”

  Oh, you mean most kids here have parents who actually give a shit? Crazy concept.

  I don’t respond. I sit quietly, waiting for the gavel to drop.

  “Jesse has made quite a stir in the short time he’s been here,” she says, looking through pages inside a manila folder. “He’s been late, missed periods, mouthed off, and today, he was physical with another student. I’m sure you know we can’t allow that. The protection of our students is paramount, and it’s my job to make this a safe environment.”

  “Jesse isn’t violent,” I start. “I’m not sure what happened, but I can promise you it won’t happen again.”

  “It can’t. To be frank with you, Miss Shepherd, we have enough to expel him right now.”

  At that, Jess finally reacts. His head snaps up. “You can’t do that,” he says. His voice is steady, but I can hear the underlying panic.

  “But,” she continues. “I’ve decided to suspend you for five days.”

  Jess shakes his head, his nostrils flaring. He angles his face toward the floor, never wanting anyone to see the emotions he wears so clearly on his face. “I’m the first one to admit that I’m a fuckup, but this time it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Did
you throw the first punch?” she asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

  “Yes,” he admits grudgingly. “But—”

  “You threw the first punch, Mr. Shepherd. I’m sorry.”

  “Can we pause for just a minute?” I ask, holding a palm up. I need to know exactly what happened if I’m going to talk him out of this one. “Jess,” I say, turning to face him. “What started this? Tell me how it happened from start to end.”

  Jess rolls his eyes and picks at the strands of ripped thread at his knee. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Jess, please. I can’t help you if I don’t know how to defend you.”

  “Collins was pulling his shit again,” Coach Standifer chimes in, surprising me, and from the looks of it, Mrs. Connelly, too. “Kid kept throwing a basketball at Jesse. I fouled him and told him to knock it off. Saw him walk right up to Jesse, point-blank, and throttle that ball right into the back of his head. Before I could react, Jesse turned around and swung.”

  “Are you kidding me?” My blood is boiling. “It’s taking every ounce of my self-control not to go out there and pummel that kid. How can you expect Jesse to just let that happen?”

  “Mr. Collins will be reprimanded as well. He claims it was an accident, and technically—”

  “With all due respect, Mrs. Connelly, it was no accident,” the coach says.

  “So, what do you propose we do?” she asks tiredly.

  “I’m not saying Jesse shouldn’t be punished. Physical violence is never the answer,” he says, eyeing Jess. He’s silent for a minute, assessing, and hope starts to bloom in my chest. “Give him to me for six weeks,” he finally says. “He’ll join the school wrestling team, as well as the club outside of school. He’ll arrive early and set up, stay late to clean up. Two meets a month, minimum. If he misses one practice, you can suspend him.”

  “Pft.” Jess scoffs. “Yeah, I’ll go ahead and take that suspension,” he says before standing. I jerk him back down by his wrist.

  “Don’t you dare,” I say for his ears only. “You’re getting an out. Don’t fuck it up.” Mrs. Connelly’s expression tells me that maybe I wasn’t quiet enough.

  “Well, Jesse?” she asks, arms crossed. “What’s it going to be? Six weeks of wrestling plus a week’s worth of detention, or one week of suspension?”