by Vera Hollins
“I was thinking that if I ever lost my mind and actually tried to seduce you, you would be the first girl to ever resist me,” he whispered, his lips almost touching my ear, and I couldn’t do anything against the shiver that coursed down my back. “I just don’t understand why.”
I flexed my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. I was hyperaware of the warmth of his body behind me, which penetrated through my wet, cold clothes. “Why, you ask? Because you’re a nasty piece of dog excrement.”
The insult didn’t have its intended effect on him. Instead, I could feel him smiling. “Sure, you hate me and all, but there’s something else. Revulsion. Fear. But it’s not reserved just for me. You feel this way whenever a guy comes too close to you.”
Right now, I didn’t feel fear or revulsion, and that annoyed me the most. I hated him and I should feel sick of him. So, what the hell were those flutters doing in my belly?
I was squeezing my fists so hard they started shaking. “Okay, Dr. Phil. Whatever you say,” I said in a bored voice and opened my eyes. “Now either you move, or I’ll make you move.”
Of course he didn’t move. “And now you’re running away. What are you afraid of?” His breath was a tantalizing caress upon my neck. I shuddered.
“I’m afraid aliens will come to our planet and not abduct you. I’m afraid we’ll all die from the effects of global warming except you. I’m also afraid my fist will acquaint itself with your face any moment now and I might wind up in jail, and I’d rather not wind up there so young, thank you very much.”
He snorted. “You can play cool all you want, but it doesn’t change a thing. I know someone hurt you, whether you’ll admit it or not.”
I sneered. “And why do you even care?”
“I don’t. I’m just bored, and since you’re here, it’s kinda fun to play therapist with you.”
I spun around to face him, furious, but that was a mistake. He was standing too close to me, and his face was only a breath away from mine. His mocking expression fell, and his gaze dropped to my lips. Mine followed suit, glued to his. My heart hammered against my chest, but it wasn’t in fear. Not even an ounce of fear. I couldn’t even remember what we’d been talking about, thinking how his lips looked so damn soft. Soft, and nice.
My thoughts must’ve shown on my face because his eyes turned a breathtaking shade of blue, and he tilted his head down an inch, cupping my chin like it was the most natural thing to do. The scary part of it was that, yes, it felt natural. And that itself was a red flag the size of Texas.
I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back in a swift move that had him grunting in pain. Still holding him in the arm lock, I hissed into his ear, “I don’t want to play your patient. And the next time you touch me, I’m personally going to make sure you experience the art of castration.”
I released him and left his room, agitated and more confused than ever.
“Just a little further, sugarpie. I want to make you scream, and you don’t want the others to hear you,” he said.
“They’re pretty far away, and the music is too loud,” I replied.
“I’m not taking any chances.”
“Then I’ll try to keep quiet. Or bite my fist, whatever those porn actresses do.”
He raised his eyebrow at me, a dangerous smirk tugging at his lips. “Already watching porn, sugarpie?”
“Nope, but I suppose you do. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”
He pushed me against the tree and kissed me. His tongue snaked around mine as his hands slid down my waist and ass, and it felt nice . . .
This was what I wanted.
I was ready.
I snapped open my eyes, breathing loudly in the dark of my room. My pulse and mind ran rampant. I pushed the covers off me and got out of my bed, willing the images, sounds, and his voice away. All those months of therapy and all that effort, for what? He could still get to me in my nightmares or when I was too emotionally vulnerable.
Like now, when I had to deal with the aftermath of Steven’s death and my conflicted feelings toward a guy I should hate more than anything.
Unable to stand the fabric of my pajamas brushing against my heated skin anymore, I took them off and put on my hand wraps. I slammed my fist into the punching bag, seeking refuge in the pain that doused the demons of the past.
More than three years had passed, but I wasn’t okay. I’d found ways to cope with it, but those couldn’t save me from my broken mind day in, day out. I couldn’t be a normal girl who could let anyone too close to her or fall in love.
That was why, when I thought about Masen, I was supposed to feel the usual fear and aversion that was like an impenetrable wall between me and the male sex. But there was none. Nothing. One big, fat zero.
And what the hell had that been? For a crazy moment there, it had looked as though he was going to kiss me, and the only reasonable explanation I could think of was that it had been his attempt to seduce me just so he could brag he’d managed to nail me. It would be like his biggest conquest and unmistakable proof of his allure.
So why I still couldn’t get Masen out of my mind? I was replaying that moment on fucking repeat, and it was frustrating the hell out of me. Like it actually mattered. It didn’t. It wasn’t important at all. It had just been a whim. Evidence of how rotten he was. A game because he was—what had he said? Ah, yes—bored.
I kicked the punching bag and let out a frustrated grunt. I had to focus on what was important, not on his virtues or fleeting good moments. Not when his flaws were like a billboard that screamed “Run away and never look back” or “Kick the bastard where the sun doesn’t shine.” And I hated, hated, HATED bullies.
Just how many times had I caught Masen bullying poor, innocent souls?
He’d plastered a kid against the lockers just because the kid had bumped into him, and I’d almost shoved the papers I’d been carrying into his mouth because I’d been that pissed off. He’d bullied some girls right out of the school after months and months of verbal abuse and got only a slap on the wrist (thanks a lot, The Uneducated Swine And Pain In The Ass, Anders). He’d mocked Kevin dozens of times for his stutter and glasses, and once I got so damn mad that my blood pressure soared and my nose started bleeding. His nose would’ve started bleeding, too, if only Jess and Sar hadn’t held me back, preventing me from punching him.
And so on and so on.
“He’s a bully.” I punched the bag. “He’s a fricking bully.” I jabbed it with my right hand, then the left, the first beads of sweat trickling down my temples. “I can’t trust him. I could never trust him. He would never change. Never, never, never.”
The hungry look in his eyes when he cupped my chin. Intense and breathtaking.
I groaned loudly, kicking the bag. “Why are you still thinking about it, Melissa? He faked it, you idiot. He’s a pro when it comes to flirting. He’s at the top of the game, so of course you felt that way. That was the whole point.”
Yes, that was why I’d felt that way. He was good at flirting, so somehow, he’d managed to trick me into feeling all flustered. Only that made sense.
But, if only that made sense, why did this explanation sound like bullshit, then?
Those butterflies in my belly when he got too close.
“Butterflies, my ass. More like the kicks of terror from my organs.”
His strong arms around me as he’d shielded me.
“More like trying to crush me.”
That addictive tension between us.
I gritted my teeth. “Stop with this nonsense right now, Melissa Brooks. Right this second. Before I puke from how disgusting you are. He’s a jerk, and he deserves to skydive into a volcano. Twice.”
I increased the force of my punches, drowning myself in pain and exhaustion so I would be too tired to think and confuse myself more. I steadied the bag and leaned my forehead against it to catch my breath. My eyes shut on their own, and I dragged myself back to bed, telling myself tomorrow was a new d
ay.
A new chance for me to get that fucker out of my head.
Life was a bitch, because the whole week wasn’t enough for my mind to stop returning to Masen, and it was like an itch. Once you tried to ignore it, it itched more and more, and you had to scratch it. I was too aware of him, noticing everything.
His new cologne, which smelled even better than the previous one. I hate it.
The way his bicepses bulged every time he flexed his hands. I hate it.
His fricking hot ass in his tight jeans. I HATE it.
My stupid eyes should melt from looking at that jerk, but, no.
Moreover, there were some things that further complicated my mission to ignore him at all costs.
In Government and Politics, he moved his desk so that it was even closer to mine, with the back of his chair touching my desk, which was alarmingly distracting. I had to bump my desk against his every time he wrote something just so he would grow fed up and move it away again.
Also, he took his sweet time getting up from his seat every time our class ended. I passed next to him on my way out twice this week, and I caught him checking out my ass both times.
During lunchtime, he was a far cry from the obnoxious, hormonal teenager he always was. Instead of cat-calling girls who passed our table or talking about the next girl he was going to smash, he acted decently, and it was almost like something had possessed him. It was eerie, truly, paired with the fact that I hadn’t seen him flirting with any girl at all this week.
Friday could not have come fast enough, just so I wouldn’t have to see him. Distance would have to do the trick.
Since I had day off on Friday, Mateo and I were going to go to the amusement park. We’d agreed to meet there, so I jumped into my car after the student council meeting and headed to the gas station to fill up on gas and buy some snacks. I was more than willing to grab any chance I got to be out of my too-quiet house. Without Steven, it was not only huge, it was like a mausoleum, and Mom wasn’t helping, with her constant aura of unsurpassable sadness. That was why I preferred spending time at Jess’s or Hayden’s place, relying on my friends to help me forget.
I entered the store and was heading for the shelf with my favorite snacks when the news reporter’s voice stopped me midway.
“According to the latest reports, police are closing in on the local gangs.”
The TV in the corner showed Blake’s dad standing next to Somers’s mayor and some other politicians on an outdoor stage.
“The mayors of New Haven, Somers, and Enfield promised swift action against the increased crime in our area. They’ve said they are committed to bringing these groups to justice, and the streets will be a much safer place soon.”
I snorted. Yeah, right. I was all for eradicating every single one of them, but there would always be someone who would slip through their fingers and move on to another gang. Or even worse—form a new one.
The video switched to New Haven’s mayor, who stood behind the mic stand. “I can’t give any details yet,” he said. “All I can say is that the operation is promising success, and at this rate, it may be one of our most successful ongoing operations of the decade.”
I snorted so loudly the cashier turned to look at me. “What?” I asked her with raised eyebrows. “He’s bullshitting us, and he knows it.”
She frowned and shook her head at my use of inappropriate language. Yeah, whatever.
I bought a can of Pringles and bag of Cheetos and set off for the amusement park, thinking about Steven and all those folks who always dressed in black and had faces that promised crime and even more crime. Steven’s life in the gang had been more about excitement and money than the grittier bits that meant jail for life or a bullet to the head.
My stomach coiled in a tight knot. Masen came from a low-income family, and he needed money for Eli. If the cops were closing in on T’s gang, Masen could be behind bars or lose a considerable amount of income very soon. I didn’t care if he would be without that dirty money or not, except that Eli depended on it. Masen could find a real job, but it wouldn’t even come close to covering all Eil’s expenses.
On the bright side, he wouldn’t have to associate himself with those criminals anymore, unless he joined another gang, but—
Seriously, Melissa Brooks? You’re thinking about that worm again?
I clenched my hands around the steering wheel. Stupid Masen Brown. Stupid me.
This was yet more proof that I’d entered a parallel universe when Steven died, because only in that universe it was normal for me to obsess this much about stupid Masen and his stupid life.
No, scratch that. This shit wasn’t normal anywhere.
“Stop thinking about him. Stop thinking about him. Stop. Thinking. About. Him.”
I chanted this until my blood pressure lowered and I didn’t feel so hot anymore. Good. That was better.
The parking lot was jammed when I arrived, so I had to spend ten minutes looking for an empty spot and then Mateo’s car. It was like the whole town had decided to go to the amusement park today of all days, which came as no surprise. It was the park’s tenth anniversary, and they were offering crazy discounts.
Mateo was leaning against his Ford with his gaze fixed on his phone when I spotted him. I hopped over to him, waving like a regular lunatic.
“Dearest, dearest Mateo! Sorry not sorry for being fashionably late.”
He raised his gaze from his phone and smiled at me. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less from you.”
I pressed my hand to my heart. “You know me. I have a reputation to uphold. Let’s go. I can’t wait to see you turn green.”
Mateo hated heights, so, by default, he hated amusement parks, too.
“I already regret coming here,” he said in a resigned manner, falling into step with me.
“Then why did you agree to come here? We could’ve gone anywhere else.”
“Because you love amusement parks, and I want you to have some fun. I bet you’re bored in your house.”
His unspoken words hung in the air, punching me silently but effectively. He wanted me to have fun so I could temporarily forget my brother was gone.
I looked at the clear sky, which was the epitome of peace I couldn’t begin to feel. The pain was festering in me, always present and sharp, but I had to keep moving forward, because the alternative was bleak. Hayden had said pain would always remain inside of me, so I had to find a way to live with it without letting it incapacitate me. Maybe in ten years I wouldn’t have to make a conscious thought to make it go away. Maybe I would be able to smile fully, without the demons haunting me.
Maybe I would be able to get over the fact that I’d failed him.
“You know me better than my horoscope, Mateo, dearest.” I winked at him.
The crowded parking lot gave way to the crowded amusement park, and the notes of music and everyone’s excitement drifted through the air. I was a fan of crowds, so I got more pumped the more crowded and louder it was.
“Where do you want to go first?” he asked.
With a devilish smile, I pointed at the roller coaster. “Right there.”
As I’d predicted, his face went taut. “You’re set on torturing me, right?”
I nodded with a grin. “Yep. And I’ll even film you, so we’ll have a nice, little memory of today.”
He looked as though he was going to be sick at any moment, but he didn’t complain, following me reluctantly.
I could say I was addicted to roller coasters. There was something amazingly unique in the way thrill clashed with adrenaline while fear ebbed into butterflies in my stomach. Nothing could compare to it. So, while Mateo counted the seconds until we could get off, I embraced it, grinning at each peak that gave us the view of the whole amusement park.
Mateo almost fell to his knees when we got off, looking like he was about to be sick. I decided to have mercy on him and, after I did some exploring, take him to the carousel. His reaction would be priceless.
“Let’s go there.” I motioned at the carousel.
He gave me an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”
I burst into laughter, unable to contain myself. “Absolutely.”
“Nope. I don’t wanna.”
“But you gonna. Because I really, really want to ride a carousel. Look at those cute, childish horses. I bet chicks will dig you even more when they see you riding them.”
“No can do. Anything but that.”
I was about to tell him we were going on another roller coaster ride, then, when I saw Shreya walking in our direction with Jaya and Trish. I looked at Mateo and then back to her again.
I grinned. Now this was absolutely perfect.
“Oh, look!” I said and pointed at Shreya. She was eating a pink cotton candy that matched her pink dress, her gaze on the concession stands they passed. “It’s your future bride.”
Mateo’s groan was that of pure pain and dissatisfaction. “Just great.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, placing my hands on my hips. “Anyway, did you ask her out yet?”
He avoided looking at me, his jaw set tight as he stared at something in the distance. Right.
“I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t ask her out.”
“You’re still on that, huh?” He ran his hand through his curly hair, still not looking at me.
I wanted to tell him this was a sign from the universe that they should be together, because she was here, now, of all places, but I stopped myself, remembering my promise to myself. I’d said I would be better than this. I’d said I wouldn’t push this anymore.
So as much as I wanted them to race toward each other and into one of those slow-mo movie embraces while the rest of the world was watching, I decided I should finally give it a rest.
I swallowed my pride and said that hardest word: “Sorry.”
His eyes grew wide. “What for?”
I stuck my hands in my pockets, staring at my shoes. “For being a pain in the ass. And for being a shitty friend.”
“You’re not a shitty friend.”
“I was practically forcing you to be with her.”