Vicious Desire

by S. Massery

  But then he rises, jerking his head toward the doorway. I set my drink down and follow him on shaky legs, up the stairs. He checks a bedroom—judging from the yelps of surprise, it’s taken—and then another. The third one, he flips on a light and motions for me to enter.

  Will we kiss?

  Do other things?

  The bedroom is small and plain. It’s probably an infrequently used guest room. There are two windows and a dresser between them. The ceiling light and fan hum together.

  He closes us in and turns off the light.

  “What are you doing?” My voice shakes.

  “Making it believable.”

  The dim moonlight streams in through the windows. My eyes take a moment to adjust, but it isn’t that dark.

  “What are you going to do?” I whisper.

  He comes closer, stopping just in front of me. “There are so many possibilities.”

  I sway forward onto my toes.

  His hand on my neck shocks me out of whatever delusion I was rolling with. He doesn’t squeeze, but holds me with steady, light pressure.

  My skin is on fire.

  He leans in, close enough that his breath touches my cheek. His lips brush my ear. “Were you hoping I was going to kiss you?”

  “N-no,” I manage. “I had relatively low expectations.”

  His thumb moves the barest amount on my throat, just below my ear, and goosebumps break out along my arms.

  His cologne is faint, but it buries in my nose. I hate to admit it, but it’s the type of scent that makes a girl go weak in the knees.

  “I would never kiss you,” he sneers, but then he does. His lips touch my temple.

  I’m imagining this.

  Maybe he likes to be contradictory. Maybe he likes to say one thing and do another, just to drill in the fact that he can’t be trusted. This whole thing is a mind game of his creation.

  I turn my head slightly. I don’t know what I’m doing—I’d be better off remaining still. But instead, I seek out his lips. I kiss him.

  His lips are soft. Unexpectedly so.

  I wait, hovering there. Uncertainty floods through me as the seconds tick by, and then… finally he reacts.

  It’s like his self-control was going, going…

  Gone.

  He shoves me against the dresser by my neck and seals his lips over mine. They’re hungry, searching. I part my lips, and his tongue sweeps into my mouth. He tastes like beer and something sharper underneath it, citrus with a bite.

  This is a total invasion, and I don’t mind it.

  I grip his wrist and go to war.

  I force him out of my mouth, back into his. My own tongue has a quieter exploration, but any nerves are shoved away. It’s just the feel of him against me—his whole body pressed to mine, his grip on my throat sliding around to cup the back of my neck. His fingers wind in my hair, tipping my head to the side. Instead of keeping me away, he’s holding me close.

  We go back and forth, and I get the impression that we’re trying to convince ourselves that something isn’t going on here.

  I don’t feel more like a sparkler than human.

  I don’t imagine a thousand more kisses from him.

  I don’t want to release the live wire, because the electricity flowing through us is addicting.

  Someone bangs on the door, and we jump away from each other.

  “Time’s up, lovebirds,” they call.

  Eli regards me for a moment, then slowly drags the back of his hand over his mouth.

  He leaves me standing there, at a loss for words, and flings the door open. Jackie and Ian stand in the doorway.

  Ian smirks at Eli. “Get your fill?”

  “Fuck off, man. You think I would touch her?”

  I would never kiss you.

  Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  Eli shoves past him and disappears. I slowly straighten, willing my heart to stop racing.

  Jackie squints at me, a puzzle she can’t put together, then smiles. “How was it?”

  “He just stood there,” I say, becoming just as much of a liar as Eli. “It was an unpleasant experience, to say the least.”

  She nods. “He’s a jerk. Come on, maybe you’ll get someone good the next time around.”

  I follow her back down the stairs, but my mind is a thousand miles away. Noah stands at the bottom, arms folded over his chest.

  “The fuck, Riley?”

  I blink at him. “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve been searching everywhere for you. We need to go.” He juts his chin toward the door, where his friend waits. “He’s giving us a ride.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s the designated driver.” He glares at me like I’m an idiot, but he’s right: we discussed this.

  “Okay, fine. Give me a minute.” I can’t leave my new friends without saying anything. What sort of impression would that leave? And I want to see Eli again—to know how to react to this. To him.

  School starts Monday, and I’ll see all of these people again.

  “She’s repulsive,” Eli says. “I don’t know why Amelie picked me. I’d rather cut off my arm than touch her.”

  I freeze in the doorway. The music is too loud—I shouldn’t have been able to hear that. But I did, and now those words are ingrained in my head. I can’t go farther into the room. My muscles have locked up, and it’s probably a form of self-preservation at this point.

  I catch Skylar’s eye and wave, pointing to the front door. She nods and gives me a thumbs-up.

  I don’t waste more time than that. I hurry back the way I came, finding Noah and Kaiden on the front lawn. Neither of them mention Eli, the scene Noah made in the kitchen, or why we were upstairs. Some things just shouldn’t be spoken about.

  In the car, I touch my lips. They don’t feel different, but… they are. I am. My first kiss is gone, given away freely to a boy who just said I was repulsive.

  He’s a liar, Riley.

  As long as I don’t forget that, I’ll be okay.

  9

  Eli

  Emery-Rose’s two athletic coaches, Marzden and Lennon, stand in front of me. My old lacrosse coach has a slight smile, and Lennon is downright scary. I never spent much time with her, but I know what students say about her.

  They call her Medusa. It has less to do with her wild curls and more with her expression.

  It can turn you to stone.

  Apparently.

  “You want to help the cross-country team?” she repeats. “Not football.”

  Assholes in padding or girls with tight asses? The answer seems pretty fucking obvious to me.

  “I think it’s perfectly respectable, Marisa,” Marzden says. “He’s a good runner, and you were just complaining last week that you wanted to split the team. Now’s your chance.”

  I straighten, as if to say, See? Great runner.

  She sighs and picks up the stopwatch. “Fine. You two get the details sorted. Meet me here before the end of school. I need to rework my plan.” She sweeps out of the office, and the door slams behind her.

  Coach Marzden snickers. “I love seeing her panties in a twist.”

  “Mission accomplished,” I mutter.

  He scowls. “Enough of that. Let’s get your paperwork all sorted so you’ll be ready. I’ll admit, I was surprised you called.”

  He’s only surprised because he didn’t expect the classic college dropout to be me. There was such an expectation of success… His bet was probably on Liam.

  That thought stings, but it’s also satisfying to know I’m protecting Liam. That bastard better stay in school forever thanks to what Theo and I did for him.

  “This is perfect for me,” I reason. “I’m home, I’m still in shape—”

  “Because you thought you’d be playing college lacrosse,” he snaps. “And honestly? I was looking forward to seeing you play against the big boys.”

  I frown. “Well…”

  “We all fail sometimes,” he conti
nues, squatting next to the bottom drawer of his giant filing cabinet. “I’ve got this paperwork around here somewhere…”

  Dad once told me the story behind Coach. How he was a hotshot in school—a football and lacrosse star who made it all the way to the championships in college—and now he’s… well. He coaches high school sports. I guess I can’t knock it, since I’m now working for him.

  But not forever.

  “Here.” Coach slaps a booklet on the table. “Employee handbook. Tax forms. Everything you need.”

  Up until this moment, I wasn’t sure I’d got the job.

  “Sit. Read. And for God’s sake, don’t fuck up on day one.”

  I can follow instructions. He leaves me alone, and I get busy, and the hours blend together. Soon enough, the last bell of the day rings, and the echo of cheerful students drifts down to the athletic department.

  The door swings open, and Coach Lennon frowns. “You’re here.”

  “Never left,” I admit.

  She grunts, then points behind her. “Follow me.”

  I grab my water bottle and jog after her. There are only a few students in this hall—some who must’ve had gym as their last period of the day. The art wing connects here, too. If I linger, I might see Margo’s foster dad leaving for the day.

  “We’re doing a mock trial today,” Lennon says to me in her office. She points to the aerial map of the school grounds, dragging her finger along the cross-country route used for meets, almost like she’s stuck on it. She drops her hand and turns back toward me. “You know the way?”

  “I do.” And it sounds miserable. This particular course was made to weed out the weak. There’s a giant hill right in the middle of the three miles, almost straight up and straight down. There are a surprising amount of lacrosse players who use cross-country to stay in shape.

  I ask, “How fast?”

  “Racing pace,” she says. “The team has been working on stamina, but now’s the day to prove it. You’ll be setting the pace, hopefully.”

  Testing me, too.

  I nod sharply. Theo’s a runaholic, and freaking fast. I’m used to the sprinting drills Coach Marzden made us do, and the longer runs… This should be fun.

  “Who are your best?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “There’s a group who might give you a run for your money. Don’t let them pull you into a match race. Got it?”

  I scoff. I can handle a few girls. And besides, I could run this trail in my sleep.

  “Okay.” She leads us to the small field beside the softball diamond, which stands deserted. There are already a few girls stretching, and Coach waves me off to warm up.

  Right. I suppose I should’ve known I’d be the pacer—what else would I be good for? Catching stragglers? I’m going to assume that’s her job.

  I take a lap around the softball field, and when I return… well, the team is bigger than I expected.

  At least twenty girls and ten boys stare at me as I take my place next to Coach.

  “Sorry I’m late!”

  My heart hammers, and my stomach twists. What an odd reaction to one voice.

  One girl.

  She pushes to the front, next to her ex-friend, Skylar, and freezes.

  Coach Lennon frowns but says nothing to Riley.

  And she doesn’t seem to notice Riley’s stricken expression.

  “For those of you who don’t know, this is Eli. He’s our new coaching assistant. If I call your name, you’re running with him today. Anyone else is running with me—which is not where you want to be.” She flips the page of her clipboard and reads off names.

  I can’t take my eyes off Riley, whose gaze is glued to her shoes.

  “And Riley,” Coach Lennon finishes. “This is a real race, ladies. Eli is setting the pace most of you should be at, but I’ll be keeping time here. This will determine how our meet is going to go next weekend. We have our eyes on the state title, don’t we?”

  There’s an echo of yeses.

  Riley grits her teeth, rubbing her toe into the dirt.

  Challenge accepted, she seems to say.

  All I can hear is my things crashing to the ground.

  My resolve hardens.

  Caleb was right—I shouldn’t be wasting time going after her brother. He’s a grade-A dick, and they haven’t been the closest. Her parents… they’ll get what’s coming to them on their own. Karma is a bitch that way.

  But Riley?

  Her future is mine.

  She looks up and meets my glare head-on. Time slows down.

  I’m surprised at the ache in my chest. I almost rub my skin, but it’s phantom pain. Nothing else. She broke my heart, and I thought I was okay. But it’s worse looking at her. Knowing what she did.

  Coach claps her hands, and the girls she named line up. It goes around the field and then up, alongside the track, down and into the woods. The tough part.

  I hop up and down, getting my blood moving, and Coach stops in front of me.

  “Go out fast. If more than ten girls finish ahead of you, you’re done.” She eyes me. “And maybe Phil will take you for football.”

  I grimace. Now that I know Riley’s on this team, I’m even more eager to stay.

  Dad is going to kill me when he finds out what sort of job I got. He’ll assume I’m on the same path as Phil Marzden, and I won’t leave Emery-Rose. What had he said about Coach once? Some guys live a pipe-dream in high school, and it shatters when they leave. They’ll do anything to hold on to it.

  That won’t be me. And I don’t think it’s Coach, either. He’s happy yelling at teenagers all day. My guess is that it was the fear talking for Dad. His father was a lawyer, and his father before that.

  There are no black sheep in the Black family.

  Except… me?

  The whistle blows, and I’m left unprepared.

  The girls take off. I bolt after them, surprised at the early speed, and start the timer on my watch. I know what pace to hit for each quarter mile, and it only takes a hundred yards or so to settle into a good stride.

  My pace is quicker than most of the twenty-odd girls I’m running with. I dodge around them, ignoring their huffs. I love running. Not Theo’s sadistic kind, where he runs like he’s trying to get the hell out of Dodge, but the kind that gives your muscles that floating feeling.

  I glide over the worn-grass path.

  Riley and Skylar are ahead of me, but they won’t be for long.

  We follow the track where the football team is warming up, and some of them whistle. Coach Marzden’s yelling drifts toward us.

  And then we’re past, flying down a hill and plunging into the forest. It’s cool here, a good drop in temperature, and I speed up. I overtake Skylar, and then it’s just Riley ahead of me.

  I should’ve known she would excel at this sport.

  She liked running—and clearly still does. She mentioned that in the past, but it wasn’t until the tail end of our relationship last year that she actually went out and ran. The smile on her face when she got back…

  I shake my head sharply.

  Don’t think about that.

  Riley is so close, the sweat on the back of her neck is revealed with every step. Her hair swings like a pendulum.

  I cast a quick glance behind me, but everyone else is far behind us.

  A few strides later, I’m right beside her.

  I don’t miss her wicked flinch, either.

  “Don’t mess with me,” she says.

  “Me?” I grin. “Never.”

  “Liar.”

  We’ve reached the beginning of the incline. Dodging roots and rocks, we navigate the hill silently. My lungs burn at our pace, and a quick glance at my watch tells me we’re going too fast.

  What had Coach said? Don’t get suckered into a match race.

  Yeah, well.

  I guess I’m a sucker.

  “You need this job?” she asks me.

  I lift one shoulder. “If I don’t keep this on
e, I’ll get another. Maybe in your dad’s office. I can make sure all his paperwork is pristine—”

  She rams into me.

  It’s the shock of it more than anything that puts me off balance.

  I grab her wrist as I fall, dragging her with me. We tumble off the path, down a pine-needle-covered slope, and finally stop sliding about ten feet down.

  I land on top of her.

  It isn’t an unfamiliar place to be—but the annoyance that flares up inside me is. She stares up at me, wide-eyed. There’s bits of leaves and needles stuck in her hair, and her chest heaves.

  “What the fuck?” I growl.

  “Get off me.” She shoves at me.

  I grab her wrists and press them into the ground. “Is it because I mentioned dear old dad?”

  She stiffens.

  I lean down and rub my nose along her jaw, inhaling sharply. She smells like…

  Stop.

  “But, Riley,” I whisper in her ear. I so enjoy how she shivers under me. “I haven’t even mentioned your mother. Or Noah. Or you.”

  “Leave them out of it.” She tugs at her wrists.

  Above us, there’s the stampede of feet.

  We’re being overtaken.

  “We’ll finish this later.” I hop up and make the climb, brushing needles from my clothes.

  On the downward slant, most of the girls have passed us. I grimace. It’ll be a sprint to catch up, then pass them. And how the hell do I explain that?

  But it’s either this or the mail room, and I’m sure as hell not going to work with Dad.

  I spare a glance back at Riley. She’s using the trees to pull herself up the hill. She’ll be fine—maybe come in last and disappoint the hell out of Coach Lennon, but she’s not broken and bleeding.

  I leave her there.

  In the end, I do manage to get to the front. Well, almost the front. Skylar and one other girl cross the line ahead of me. But I’m able to fake it to Coach and I hit my finishing time just a few seconds over. Not exactly what I had in mind, sprinting and a brief tumble, but it’ll do.

  Riley finishes almost a minute behind me, crossing the line and breathing hard. There’s blood on her knees.

  Coach beelines for her. “What happened?”

  I lift my chin, expecting her to point to me.