Vicious Desire

by S. Massery

  But we were.

  The rest of the morning passes surprisingly fast. Parker and I catch up as best we can between classes, but we have different lunches. I would hide in the library, but the new librarian is a stickler for following the rules…. And that leaves the cafeteria.

  Every day, I’ve found a new hiding place. Today? I think I’ve run out of options.

  And it’s too cold to go on the roof.

  Skylar approaches, her expression wary. She was one of Amelie’s friends—a freshman, like me—and was similarly thrown off the popularity pyramid. Her fall was more recent, though. If I squint, I can still see her bruised ego.

  “Where are you sitting?” she asks.

  I tilt my head. “Me?”

  Skylar’s lips purse, then smooth out. “We were friends once.”

  Before she pulled the veil off my relationship with Eli, I suppose.

  “You’re going to have to deal with me at practice, so why not make the most of it?” She balances her tray on one hand and sticks the other on her hip.

  It’s absurd—but she’s right. And I’d really rather not eat alone.

  “Fine,” I mutter.

  I follow her to a table with other girls on the cross-country team, and they all say cheery hellos. But do they mean it?

  “I saw you the other morning,” one girl, Leah, says to me. “You run in the mornings?”

  I nod. “Yeah, helps get rid of enough energy so I can focus here.”

  “It’s so early.” She shudders. “I live on Devonshire. You probably run past there before I’m awake most of the time!”

  “Oh, yeah, you’re just a few streets over from me.”

  Leah is nice. They all are at surface level—even Skylar. It’s not the surface level I’m worried about—it’s digging deeper that usually presents a problem.

  “Practice is going to be brutal today,” Skylar says.

  I take my lunch out of my bag and start spreading the items around me. A pang hits my chest every day. Margo and I used to swap items. It was our thing, and now the ache of missing her rises my throat.

  “I heard they hired an assistant to help us,” Erin says. “Coach Lennon was worried about our paces.”

  “What’s the assistant going to do, run next to us with a stopwatch?” Skylar scoffs. “They’re taking this sport seriously.”

  “It’s because we have a chance of going to State Championships for the first time like, ever.” Leah leans forward. “Do you know how bad Coach wants this?”

  “More than me,” Erin says on a laugh.

  “Just think of the recruiters at that meet,” another girl adds. “I hope we get to State, because I need a scholarship.”

  I straighten. Scholarship? Recruiters?

  We’re not bad off, but with Mom’s cancer and Noah’s issues, there’s no more college fund. Not a substantial one, anyway. Dad already told me to look forward to state schools—but that’s not going to happen.

  Running can get me into NYU, or maybe even somewhere else.

  Somewhere better.

  I have the grades. I could muster up the ambition…

  None of the girls direct more of the conversation at me, but it’s nice to listen to their banter. And surprisingly, I know what they’re talking about. No one mentions the cheerleaders three tables over, and no one brings up the transfer student.

  I meet back up with Parker for our last two classes of the day. She bounces on her heels, unusually cheerful, and explains that she talked to one of her teachers. They suggested she try out for the cross-country team.

  “Do you like running?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “Not particularly.”

  “Then…”

  “I know.” She sighs and tucks her hair behind her ear, revealing a row of piercings. “I’m thinking I’ll do the debate team or something instead.”

  Debate team. The blood drains from my face.

  The throwaway lie I told Margo jumps to the forefront of my mind. She asked why Eli hated me when we first met, and I couldn’t tell her the truth—that back then, things were complicated.

  Hate wasn’t everything.

  But at the same time, it was the only thing that grounded us.

  8

  Riley

  Three Years Ago

  “I don’t know you,” a girl says to me. “And that’s unusual. I know everyone.”

  The music is loud, and the only way I can really tell what she’s saying is because her lips move in an almost exaggerated way. Maybe that’s how people at parties talk—not loudly, just with more flair.

  “I’m new.” I shrug and glance around.

  It was Noah’s idea to come to a party. He had heard about it only because soccer practice began early. This is the last weekend of freedom before high school starts, and even though we were new, we were determined to make the most of it.

  Hell, my room was still full of boxes. It was depressing being in that house by ourselves, with Mom in the hospital and Dad refusing to leave her side.

  If we were any younger, I’m sure an aunt would’ve come to spend the nights at our house. As it was, Noah was deemed responsible.

  Ha.

  He disappeared into the crowd almost five minutes ago, and I haven’t seen him since.

  The girl’s eyes narrow. “How’d you hear about this party?”

  I sigh. “My brother. He’s on the soccer team. He said his teammate invited him. Kaiden…?”

  Her eyes light up. “Kaiden West. That explains it. I’m Amelie.”

  “Riley.”

  I shake her offered hand, and she pulls me forward. Before I can fully grasp what’s happening, she has her arm looped around mine, and we plunge into the crowd.

  She flings out names like droplets of water. “That’s Jackie, this is Ian, avoid Caleb and his friends in the kitchen—devious boys. Ah, Skylar, she’s a freshman like you. Her mom and mine are best friends.”

  The back of my neck prickles. It’s a feeling of being watched, but there are too many bodies in the room. My gaze swings around, and it lands on a group of boys. They’re all different shades of beautiful, but I skate over all of their features. One is staring straight at me. Different from those boys I grew up with, who hated their crushes to catch them spying, this boy looks at me unflinchingly.

  Even when I catch him in the act.

  From here, he could be made of stone. He doesn’t move. Blond hair, long on top and short on the sides—a typical asshole haircut—and dark eyes. He’s tall and muscular—

  Someone jostles me, and I step toward Amelie. She just raises her eyebrow, waving her hand between me and the girl I think she was trying to introduce.

  “Don’t get sucked in,” Amelie whispers in my ear. “They may seem pretty, but…”

  I glance at her with wide eyes.

  “They’re deadly,” she finishes. “Every last one.”

  She doesn’t strike me as the type to want to play with fire, but there’s something off in her voice. Like maybe she’s exaggerating a bit, just to keep me away.

  Maybe she has a crush of her own.

  “Kai!” she shrieks suddenly, dropping my arm and running toward a boy who just walked in. She jumps up, letting him catch her and twirl her around. Her feet don’t seem to touch the floor for an eternity.

  “Skylar,” the girl beside me says. She sticks out her hand. “That’s the introduction we were going for before Amelie got distracted. Did you say Riley?”

  “Yep.” I shake her hand.

  The back of my neck still prickles, but I force myself to ignore it.

  “Come on, you look like you need a drink.”

  I don’t bother saying I’ve never had alcohol before, never been to a party. Even this is a rare night off from sitting vigil in Mom’s hospital room. She’s home for now, and Noah begged Dad to let us come.

  If I had done the begging, it would’ve been a stern no. But as it was, they recognized Noah’s struggle more than mine. He’s the social but
terfly of the family, and me?

  More like a recluse.

  I imagine for a moment the scenario me asking to go to a party would’ve inspired. Mom might’ve choked, eyes bugging out, and Dad would’ve laughed. He would definitely laugh at you, Ri. In the fourteen years they’ve known me—a pretty long time, considering that’s my entire life—I’ve never been one for big crowds.

  Or crowds at all.

  Skylar and I squeeze through packed bodies now, inching toward the kitchen. I’m not sure when the house got so full, but suddenly the music’s volume doubles.

  She laughs, raising her arms above her head and sliding between two girls. I copy the movement, and then… the kitchen.

  “Hey, Skylar,” one of the boys calls.

  Her cheeks flush red. “Hey, Liam.”

  “Going to introduce your new friend?”

  What had Amelie called them? The devious ones. There are four of them, including the one who caught my eye earlier.

  He’s still watching me, but at least it’s a little subtler.

  Skylar beams, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. “This is Riley.”

  My stomach unexpectedly seems to dip into my throat.

  Liam comes closer, leaning his hip on the kitchen island in front of us. “You know you guys shouldn’t even be here, right? You’re not technically in high school until you start. And who wants to be at a party with babies?”

  Her expression slowly falls. “I’m—”

  “School starts on Monday,” I say, crossing my arms. “Does it even matter? Go about your business and leave us alone.”

  My traitorous eyes keep straying to the one who won’t quit staring at me.

  I face him head-on and snap, “What?”

  He lifts one shoulder. “Just enjoying the show.”

  “There’s no show here.” My face heats. I’m not sure how to get out from under this squashed feeling, so I do what I do best: avoid.

  I march to the keg and grab a cup, filling it two-thirds of the way. I push it at Skylar, who frowns, and I take another one.

  A hot hand wraps around my wrist, jerking me away from the keg.

  I glare at the boy. “Did I do something to piss you off?”

  “Yes.”

  He’s prettier up close. His eyes have gold flecks mixed in with the brown, and his lips are full when they’re not pressed into a thin line.

  “Care to fill me in?”

  He’s still holding my wrist, and his grip tightens for a brief moment. There’s commotion at the door, and suddenly my brother is right beside me.

  When has he ever come riding to my rescue like a freaking white knight?

  Never.

  Good timing, Noah.

  “What’s up?” he asks, leaning on me.

  Ah. Not so much white knight as… drunken jester.

  My wrist is returned to me, and I wrap my arm around Noah’s waist.

  “You good?” He frowns at the boy. “Why were you holding my sister’s wrist? The fuck, man?”

  “Okay, okay.” I guide him backward. “What did you expect when you brought me to a party?”

  Noah scowls. “Don’t fucking touch her, man.”

  The boy raises his hands. “Truth be told, I’m pretty sure I’ll have to scrub my hands for an hour after that.”

  Uh-oh.

  My brother lunges forward and swings, but I can already tell it won’t land.

  Guys rush in, knocking me and Skylar out of the way. She grabs my hand and drags me back. Soccer players—Noah’s new teammates—haul him out of the room.

  “Eli Black,” Skylar whispers in my ear. “That’s who—”

  “Thanks,” I say. “I better go see if Noah is all right—”

  “He’s fine.” This comes from Kaiden. “The boys are helping him cool off. It’s kind of sweet, isn’t it? How he wants to protect his baby sister.”

  I’m getting sick of people referring to me as a baby.

  He shrugs. “Enjoy the party, Riley. I’ll look after your brother.”

  Skylar nods dramatically. “See? Come on.”

  She hands me the cup I originally gave her and goes to fill another. No one stops her, and the boys have disappeared from the kitchen. It’s easier to breathe without them in here.

  Eli Black.

  It sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.

  “Are they upperclassmen?” I ask Skylar.

  “Sophomores like Amelie. Speaking of, we should go find her. She’s probably outside where she can hear herself think.”

  Now that she says it, I realize we’ve been shouting to each other.

  I follow her outside, expecting to see Noah. Instead, there’s a group of people around a bonfire in the back of the sprawling yard and no sign of my brother.

  “He probably went back inside,” Skylar offers.

  We go toward the fire, and I can’t help but imagine us as the foolish moths. Although it isn’t the flames we have to be worried about—it’s the people standing around it.

  Amelie is with a few other girls on one side. We join their little group, but most of them keep letting their attention stray to the boys on the other side. It’s Eli and his friends, so I force myself to keep my gaze anywhere else.

  The girls are talking about cheerleading.

  “You’ll join us, Riley?” Amelie asks me.

  “In… cheerleading?”

  Her eyebrow tics. “Well, not the debate team.”

  The girls around her laugh, and I stay silent. Should I join the cheerleading team? I don’t know anything about it. In reality, I was looking forward to joining the cross-country running team…

  “She is,” Skylar declares. “Right?”

  I swallow. My body is hot and sticky. “Yeah, I’ll try out. No promises…” I trail off with a laugh and pray that the conversation changes direction.

  Thankfully, it does.

  The girl I think Amelie introduced as Jackie starts talking about her summer in the Hamptons. I take a sip and try to hide my cough. Beer doesn’t taste like I thought it would. The fizz goes up my nose, and it leaves a sour flavor on my tongue.

  First time for everything. I try again, a bigger gulp. A few seconds after I swallow, a dull heat picks up in my stomach.

  Our conversation shifts yet again with the appearance of a boy. I scan him up and down—he wasn’t with Eli and his friends—and squint.

  I think I’ve fallen into an alternate universe where girls don’t have spines. They gravitate toward him like he’s the sun.

  Skylar just rolls her eyes and leans in. At least it’s easier to hear her whisper out here. “Ian. Sophomore. Definitely a douchebag.”

  Amelie, too, appears unaffected. “Stay away from that one, Riley.”

  The breaking point seems to be when Jackie reaches out and runs her hand down Ian’s arm. Amelie claps suddenly, drawing all of our attention.

  “A game?” she asks. “Spin the bottle.”

  The girls nod. Ian smirks.

  And, damn it, my gaze goes across the fire to Eli.

  He’s watching me.

  I shiver.

  He and his three friends trail us back into the house, into the front living room. There’s space to sit here, couches and armchairs positioned in a rough circle with a coffee table in the center. Jackie clears it off while the rest of us sit.

  “Are we really doing this?” I ask Skylar. A knot in my belly twists. Now would not be the best time to admit I’ve never been kissed before.

  She shrugs. “What a way to kick off high school, right?”

  Yeah, sure.

  I take another sip of beer, but by now it’s room temperature. It seems to cling to my throat on the way down.

  Amelie takes charge, and I don’t think this is unusual for her. She grabs Skylar and moves her to the end of the couch, seating a boy I don’t know between us. I face forward and try not to panic. Once the whole room is rearranged, she claps.

  “Rules are simple, obviously. Kiss the p
erson it lands on. If they don’t kiss you…” Her grin is wicked. “Then the group will pair you with someone else for seven minutes in heaven.”

  My stomach flips, and I try to grasp my emotions. They’re all over the place: anxious, relieved. What a blessing it’ll be to have a first kiss not mean anything. It gets it out of the way.

  Otherwise, I’d probably not be kissed forever, and what kind of girl wants that hanging over her head?

  Someone spins, and it lands on the boy to my left. He smirks and rises, meeting the girl in the middle. He cups her cheek and plants a solid, close-mouthed kiss on her lips. She leans back, wide-eyed.

  One of Eli’s friends claps. “Attaboy, Matt.”

  Matt bows to more applause and falls into his seat beside me.

  More go, girls and boys, and no one refuses.

  And then it’s my turn.

  I swallow. Butterflies are running rampant in my chest. The bottle is cool under my touch, and I give it a hard spin. It goes around and around.

  Please, not Eli.

  It slows. One more pass, crawling now. I can’t stand it—I would rather rush away or close my eyes, but a part of me deep down is eager for what’s about to happen.

  It wobbles in Eli’s direction, then passes. And stops on his friend.

  Liam, I think. The one who talked to Skylar in the kitchen.

  He glances from the bottle to me, his eyebrow going up. He doesn’t even look at Eli, he just slowly shakes his head. “No, sorry.”

  Amelie glares at him. “Seriously?”

  He crosses his arms. “I’m not fucking kissing her, Amelie.”

  She doesn’t frown like I expect—instead, she smiles. And then my heart drops. Seven minutes in heaven, isn’t that the consequence for refusing to kiss someone?

  She glances at Jackie, who nods, and Skylar, who… pauses, then nods. Silent communication.

  “Riley, you have to spend seven minutes in heaven with… Eli.”

  Wasn’t she just warning me to stay away from him?

  And the way he’s scowling at me, I’d like to take her advice.