Landon & Shay - Part One: (The L&S Duet Book 1)

by Brittainy Cherry

  When Thursday came around, KJ showed up and dropped off the weed for the guys. He’d decided it was best not to stick around too long, seeing how Mom had caught him the last time, and he hadn’t wanted any trouble.

  As we made our exchange, my mind was on Shay, thinking up a million ways I could get near her. The other day, Reggie had come up to me mocking me about how I hadn’t been able to get Shay to fall in love with me yet, going on and on about how he could’ve already banged her and had her loving on him if he wanted to.

  I wanted to punch him in the face and tell him he would never be good enough for Shay, but I kept quiet. I didn’t feel the need to waste my breath on a pointless person. I’d have bet Kentucky was missing their favorite clown boy.

  Still, he was right. I hadn’t figured out a way to get close to Shay. We’d never really had true interactive moments outside of spitting rude comments toward each other in the hallways. I needed to be in the same space as her for longer than five minutes in order to close this bet down.

  But how?

  “All right, I think we’re all settled. I’ll catch you around, kid.”

  “Wait, can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Have you been dealing to Monica? She’s seemed a bit out of it lately, and I know she normally buys from you. I mean, I know she’s always out of it, but she seems extra burned out, more than weed. What have you been giving her?”

  KJ sighed and whistled low. “Sorry, Landon. That’s doctor-patient confidentiality right there. I can’t give out that information.”

  I huffed. “You’re not a doctor.”

  “But I do make people feel better.” He smirked. “Sorry, buddy. If she wanted you to know, I’m sure she would tell you. She’s a grown woman. She can take care of herself.”

  She wasn’t a grown woman, though, and she couldn’t take care of herself. I’d seen her low points when she wasn’t feeding herself or showing up for class, when I had to make her food and do her homework just so she could pass. For a long time, I’d worked as her anchor, but now she was floating away on her own. She was hardly eighteen, and she was on a path to destruction, a path KJ was helping her travel down.

  “Look, all I’m saying is she has a lot of shit going on in her life. She doesn’t need whatever you’re giving her to add to that chaos,” I explained as calmly as I could.

  “And like I said, she’s a grown woman. She can handle it.”

  “Stop selling to her, KJ,” I spat out, the words rolling off my tongue with disgust.

  KJ laughed and shook his head. “You’re not her parent or guardian.”

  “You don’t even care, do you? You don’t care that you’re killing her?”

  “I’m not stuffing the pills down her throat, Landon. That’s on her.”

  I stood up and my hands made fists. “You need to get the hell out of my house.”

  “Monica was right.” He kept snickering, tossing his hands up in defeat. “You’re less fun when you’re sober. Listen, I’ll pull back with her, all right? I’m not out here trying to kill nobody. Take it easy. Life’s not that serious.”

  He swore he’d pull back, but I didn’t know him well enough to know if I could believe him. All I had to go on was the hope that he’d do the right thing down the line.

  13

  Shay

  Monica Smith wasn’t my friend.

  I knew what a friend was, and I knew what an enemy was. What I didn’t know was what exactly Monica was to me. A frenemy, perhaps. An enemy who smiled as if we were close? An acquaintance who’d betray me down the road?

  There had been a time when we were close friends, though, a time when I didn’t doubt our connection. We hung out all the time as kids, with Tracey and Raine. We’d go pretty much everywhere together, and we were into the same kinds of things. There wasn’t a weekend that the girls weren’t sleeping over at my house, and that included Monica.

  The shift in the friendship happened when Monica and I both auditioned for the middle school’s performance of Cinderella. Monica was so excited about playing Cinderella, but when I was given that role and she was cast as one of the wicked stepsisters, she seemed to somewhat resent me. She quit the show and never auditioned for anything else again.

  She claimed theater was for losers who didn’t have good enough lives to be themselves, so they had to act like someone else.

  She also said she couldn’t be seen in my neighborhood anymore. “This is where poor people live, and my father said it’s not safe for me to be over here,” she commented. I knew that was a lie, though. I’d been to her mansion enough times to know her father hardly noticed she was alive.

  Over the years, while the friendship between Tracey, Raine, and me stayed intact, Monica became her own Cruella De Vil. It was as if her personality shifted overnight.

  Monica was a perfect example of the girl who had social status, beauty, and wealth. She oozed popularity and despised anything and everyone who wasn’t as popular, rich, and stunning as her.

  Therefore, she pretty much hated everyone.

  She was the queen bee of our high school, and she wasn’t afraid to call people out as peasants. I reserved my hate for Landon, but sometimes, the way Monica treated people truly rubbed me the wrong way.

  If Landon was fake, I was certain he’d learned his skills from the fakest girl of them all.

  “Hey, Shay.” Monica turned in her desk to face me. She sat in front of me in World History, but she never went out of her way to talk to me. Normally, she was too busy texting nonstop to engage with the outside world. I always wondered who she was talking to, seeing how she seemed so bored by everyone in high school—everyone except Landon, of course.

  “Hey.”

  She eyed me up and down, from the top of my head to the bottom of my shoes.

  I hated how she looked at people. She stared at them as if she was telling a joke and their mediocre life was the punchline. Then, she’d giggle quietly to herself before making eye contact once more with a menacing smirk.

  “So, what’s the deal with you and Landon?” she asked with crossed arms. The gum in her mouth kept popping in the most dramatic fashion. Her lips were painted red, like always, and she smiled at me, but it didn’t really feel much like a genuine smile. It felt like a threat.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It seems like ever since you guys had that spin seven situation, the two of you have been…I don’t know. It looks like something’s going on there. I saw you guys hanging out by your locker a few days ago. You seemed…close.”

  “Well, there’s nothing going on.” I glanced at the clock on the wall, waiting desperately for class to begin. I much preferred learning about the fall of the Roman Empire than talking to Monica about Landon.

  Monica didn’t blink as she stared my way. I wondered if she ever blinked. Her eyes were always so alert and zoned in on her prey, as if she was ready to attack at any moment.

  She combed her hair behind her ear. “I thought you said nothing happened in the closet.”

  “Nothing did happen. Like I said, there’s nothing going on between Landon and me.”

  “You don’t have to lie, Shay.” She laughed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’ve moved on from him, and I’m hardly even thinking about him anymore.”

  Well, if that didn’t sound like a bald-faced lie, I didn’t know what did.

  She pulled out her tube of lipstick and applied more. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, because I know you’ve struggled a bit with your dad in the past.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know…” She lowered her voice and leaned in. “With his jail time for drugs.”

  A knot formed in my gut, and I couldn’t help but wonder how she knew that. Then again, she was Monica. She knew things. She knew all things.

  I cleared my throat. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well, because it’s Landon.
Listen, it’s not my place to say”—that had never stopped her before—“but it’s no secret that he has a history of partying. Over the past few months, he’s developed a bit of a drug problem. That’s why I broke up with him. I couldn’t handle him spiraling.”

  I raised an eyebrow as the knot in my stomach tightened. There were some things in life I could handle, but drugs weren’t one of them. It was a hard limit. “Oh? He hasn’t really shown any signs of that…” My words trailed off, and I shut my mouth. I didn’t see any reason to push the conversation, because at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. I didn’t want to get half-truths from Monica. I knew who she was, the vindictive creature she’d been in the past. Trusting her was like trusting politicians—it always ended in a bigger scandal than anyone wanted.

  When she didn’t get her way, she acted out. She threw fits, made scenes. The last thing I wanted to do was get wrapped up in her and Landon’s world.

  “Like I said before, Monica…Landon and I aren’t a thing.” And even if we were, you’d be the last to know.

  “Okay, good. I just wanted to let you know. Us girls have to look out for each other.”

  Yeah, Monica. You’re real Spice Girls “Girl Power” over there.

  The bell rang, giving me a break from the conversation from hell.

  Monica smiled brightly and with a touch of evil in it. “But I guess we’re in the clear, seeing how there’s nothing going on between the two of you.” She turned around, and before the teacher started speaking, she looked over her shoulder and whispered, “Plus, he has a small dick.”

  Well, okay. Mark that down as something I hadn’t needed to know.

  14

  Landon

  “Are you on drugs?” Shay blurted out as she sat down across from me in the cafeteria.

  I snickered. “I ask myself that each day.”

  “I’m serious, Landon. Are you on drugs?” She didn’t have to tell me she was serious; her eyes said that all on their own. She was tensed up, her body looking rock hard as she stared me in the eyes.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked.

  “Just tell me, because if you are, I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to play this game if you’re just drunk and high all the time. I don’t want anything to do with any of that stuff, okay?”

  Her voice cracked with despair as she spoke my way. I didn’t have a clue where her intense emotions were even coming from, seeing how we had recently been joking with each other about my Dumbo ears.

  Seeing how serious she was feeling made me sit up a bit straighter. The only thing I looked forward to lately was being able to bother Shay a little to keep my head clear. So, based on her reaction, I knew right now wasn’t the time to be a sarcastic ass to her.

  “No,” I said flatly.

  “Don’t lie to me, Land. Please.” The last word melted off her tongue with pain.

  What was that, Chick? A small glimpse into your imperfections?

  “I swear, Shay. I used to, but I stopped a while ago, after Lance…” I shut my eyes for a slight second and took a breath. When I reopened them, I stared straight into her eyes. “You read people, right? That’s what you do? Look into my eyes and tell me if I’m a boy who’s lying to you. Tell me what you see.”

  She narrowed her stare and didn’t look away. She drank me in as I swallowed her whole, and we sat there for a few seconds before blinking and looking away. “Sorry,” she muttered, standing from the table.

  “Where did this come from?”

  “Earlier, Monica said something about—”

  Monica. Of course. I should’ve known. “That should’ve been your first warning sign.”

  Shay shifted around in place. “Are you two still a thing?”

  “We never really were.”

  “Tell that to her,” she huffed, combing her hands through her hair.

  “Trust me, I have. Listen, I’m not using, and I’m not going to be using anything. As long as we’re doing this bet, I can promise you I won’t do anything like that, all right? I swear. I know a promise from your sworn enemy doesn’t mean shit, but there it is.”

  “It means something,” she whispered, timid as ever. She turned away from the table and muttered an apology—one I didn’t need. If Monica had gotten to her, I completely understood. She had a way of poisoning a person’s thoughts with such few words.

  “So, I guess the game is still on,” I said, throwing a carrot her way.

  She caught it and bit into it as she shrugged her shoulders and began to walk away. “Catch me if you can.”

  Don’t worry, Shay Gable. I will.

  I spent the next few days thinking about the clues Maria and Raine had given me over the course of our interactions. Anything they mentioned about Shay I plugged into my brain. There was one thing that stood out the most that I figured could come in handy, one thing she would’ve never imagined I’d use to get close to her—which meant, by all means, I had to use it.

  On Wednesday afternoon, I pulled out the ammo I had in my possession, and Shay’s reaction was priceless.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” Shay gasped as I entered the auditorium for the Romeo and Juliet auditions. We hadn’t really interacted in a few days, because she’d been busy, and I had too.

  Did you know this Shakespeare dude talked in circles? Half the time, I didn’t even know what the hell he was even saying. Thank goodness for SparkNotes. I was thankful there were enough nerds in the world to translate the meaning behind the old guy’s words.

  When I’d stumbled across his most public insults on my internet search, that was when the fun began. For example: “Thou sodden-witted lord! Thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows.”

  I’d have to use that one on Reggie when I got a chance.

  Then again, he’d probably reply, “What, dawg? Man, I miss KFC.”

  Shay’s jaw sat on the floor, and she shook her head in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

  I walked down the aisle of the theater and then sat in the row behind her, two seats over. “I had some free time on my hands and thought I might audition for the show.”

  “Yeah right. You don’t act.”

  “My whole life is an act, sweet pea.”

  “Don’t call me sweet pea.”

  “You didn’t like dollface, and you said you’re not keen on Chick, so I’m testing out new nicknames for you.”

  “Well, I don’t like sweet pea. Keep trying.”

  I smiled, and she hated it. I loved when she got flustered around me. Lately, she’d been pretty good at keeping it nose to nose, batting my advances back like a perfectly matched game of tennis, but me showing up in her theater world? She hadn’t seen that coming.

  “Really, Landon—what are you doing here?”

  “Really, Shay—I’m auditioning.”

  She grimaced and fidgeted with the piece of paper in her hand. “This is part of your game. You’re trying to get close to me.”

  “You shouldn’t be so vain. Me auditioning for this show has nothing to do with me trying to be around you. I’ll have you know I am a huge Shakespeare fan. That guy? He knew his shit.”

  She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You couldn’t name five Shakespeare plays if your life depended on it.”

  “Othello, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Macbeth.”

  You could learn a lot about Shakespeare when you didn’t sleep at night.

  “What, did you SparkNotes it or something?”

  Yes, princess.

  Princess.

  I’d have to try that nickname. I was sure she’d hate it.

  Sure, I’d used SparkNotes, but that wasn’t the only reason I knew a bit about Shakespeare, though I didn’t feel the need to let her in on all the details of my knowledge.

  I leaned forward and placed my hands on her shoulders. “No offense, Shay, but you’re acting like a very big shrew that needs to be tamed right now.”

 
She swatted my hands away. “I don’t know how you know all this stuff, but it’s annoying and you’re annoying.”

  “What can I say? I’m a very smart man. Wait till you see what I know tomorrow.”

  She bit her bottom lip and narrowed her eyes my way. “Seriously, Landon, what are you doing here?”

  “I told you, I’m auditioning for the show. I read up a bit on this Romeo and Juliet thing, and I think I’ve got what it takes to take on the Romeo role.”

  She huffed, rolling her eyes. “In your dreams.”

  “That’s the thing about my dreams, buttercup—they always come true.” I winked her way, and she made gagging sounds.

  “Buttercup is a no-go. I’m not a Powerpuff Girl.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Whatever. I know you’re just trying to get under my skin by showing up here, but it doesn’t matter. You’d actually have to get a part in the show to be around me, and I doubt that’s going to happen. You probably couldn’t act your way out of a plastic bag if you had to.”

  “Why in the hell would I ever have to act my way out of a plastic bag? What does that even mean? Also, who has plastic bags that can just fit actors inside of them?”

  She rolled her eyes hard, clenching her audition piece in her hand. “Can you just go away? I’m trying to get in my zone before my audition, and you’re really making me slip out of character.”

  “Right, right—method actor. You’re in character. Good, me too. Don’t mind me. I’ll be sitting right here, a row behind you, practicing my lines.”

  I could see the tension in her shoulders as I sat behind her. I affected her. I didn’t know if it was in a good way or a bad way, but she physically responded to me being nearby. I could almost feel the heat radiating from her body.

  Mr. Thymes, the head of the theater department, was calling people up to the stage one by one. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d ever stepped foot into the theater, and everyone was looking at me as if I was some strange alien of sorts.