Kiss and Break Up

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Kiss and Break Up Page 20

by Ella Fields


  He turned to me. “What are you doing?”

  “What’s it look like?” I said, laughing as I tried to yank the bottle back from him.

  He tucked it behind his back. “It looks like you’re drunk as hell and acting nothing like you usually would.”

  I jumped, trying to reach it when he raised it over his head. “Dang it, you’re too tall. Just give it back; it’s not funny anymore.”

  “It won’t be funny when you wake up tomorrow.”

  My hands met my hips. “I’m having fun. Is that not allowed?”

  Daphne crossed the sand. “Come on, Pegs. You are getting too drunk, and I’m bored. Let’s just head home.”

  “No,” I snapped, backing up a step. “You can go, but I’m staying.”

  Mom didn’t even know I was here, but I was eighteen, for Christ’s sake. I could go to a party if I wanted to.

  Raven sighed, then pulled out his phone. “What are you doing?”

  He paused with it halfway to his ear. “Calling in reinforcements.”

  “Like who?” Please don’t say Dash. Please don’t say Dash. I didn’t know where he was. No one did, but I wouldn’t put it past him to finally answer his phone at the most inconvenient of times.

  But then I stopped. “You know what? Go right ahead.”

  Daphne trailed me as I moved up the grassy sand, grabbing my flip-flops. “Are you calling an Uber?”

  “I’ll walk.”

  Raven caught up, then walked on ahead, and I wasn’t sure how he’d gotten to the top of the grassy knoll so fast. “Let’s go, ladies. It’s getting late.”

  “Ugh. We don’t need an escort.”

  Daphne pressed her phone to her ear. “You take her home. I’m not walking.”

  Raven smirked but waited for me to catch up.

  “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

  In answer, I flipped Daphne off for aiding the end to my fun and shoved my sandy feet into my flip-flops.

  “If you say his name, I’ll punch you in the stomach,” I warned Raven as we headed down the street.

  We crossed it, then skirted through an alleyway to the adjacent street. “Wasn’t going to say anything. Haven’t heard from him in almost a week anyway.”

  A week? I’d almost said it out loud but stopped myself. Don’t ask, don’t ask. “Where the hell is he?” I fisted my hands. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

  “Sure, you don’t.” He sighed, reaching into his pocket to check his phone. “And none of us know. But we’ll find him if he keeps hiding.”

  I didn’t want to talk about him. A dark cloud funneled through me, polluting my insides at the thought of him partying it up somewhere. Dash moped, but he was good at doing it in style. “You were at the party?”

  “Nah, but one of the guys who lives down the street from me was, and he messaged me over Facebook, saying you were there, then asked where Dash was.”

  “We’re not a two for one,” I said, realizing too late I’d fallen into talking about him yet again.

  “Uh-huh.” Raven slowed as we reached my street. “I’ll see you on Monday. How about you stay indoors until then, yeah?”

  I flipped him off too, and he chuckled, watching as I scuffed my feet over two lawns and driveways until I’d reached mine.

  Quietly, I moved around the house to my bedroom window, ignoring the pang that decided to pay me a visit when I imagined Dash doing just this, and shimmied it up. It creaked, and then Mom’s head flew out of it, her eyes struggling to blink open.

  I shrieked and stumbled back, landing in the garden bed. “Were you sleeping by my window?”

  “You bet your dress-stealing ass I was,” she said, groggy. “Get in here and use the damn door, for Pete’s sake.”

  I bit my lips, a little petrified as I took my time rounding the house. The moon popped in the midnight sky, the trees that lined the creek behind our house lacing it in shadows. I’d waited until she fell asleep to sneak out, certain it was a sure bet. I’d forgotten who I had for a mother.

  She opened the door, locking it behind me. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Yes.” There was no point in lying. “I wanted to forget for a little while.”

  A sigh left her, then a yawn. “I’m pretty pissed right now, Peggy, and not in the fun way like you.” She tightened her fluffy robe. “But we’ll fight tomorrow. I’m too damn tired right now.”

  Relief flooded, and I skipped down the hall to my room. “Sounds good to me.”

  “How much trouble are you in?” Willa asked the next day as we scrapped over the phone. I’d been grounded, so they couldn’t come over for our scrapbooking date, but I was too hungover to do anything but gaze at the ceiling fan anyway. “Grounded for life.”

  “Shut up,” Daphne said, then paused. “Wait, seriously?”

  The image of Mom’s red face, and the cussing she’d spewed this morning over breakfast, made my head pound harder. “I think so. But I’ll probably go out next weekend.”

  They were quiet a beat.

  “Why?” Willa asked.

  “Because it’s fun. Because I’m eighteen. Because I should be doing this stuff.” I stifled a yawn. “And because it helps, okay?”

  That last part had Daphne saying, “True that. But don’t overdo it again. There’s flirty drunk and then there’s too much of a hot mess drunk.”

  I winced, not having a great deal of memory of what I’d done but remembering enough. “I was the latter?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “That’s a tad embarrassing.” I’d need to make sure I stayed a bit classier next time. “So have either of you finished the history assignment?”

  “I did last week,” Willa chirped.

  Of course, she had.

  “Nope, I’m starting it tonight. Let me guess, you’ve done at least half?” Daphne asked me.

  “Actually, no.” I peeked over at where my laptop sat under a heap of clothes and books on my desk. “Maybe I’ll start it later.” Or maybe I’d take another shower and another nap to avoid having to face Mom again.

  “Did Jackson go to the party last night?” Willa asked, sounding cautious.

  “God, Willa. I already know,” Daphne said, exasperated. “Everyone knows.”

  Willa made a choking sound, then coughed. “Shit. I just got lemonade up my nose.”

  “How does that even happen?” Daphne asked.

  “Because you made me choke.”

  I smirked at the ceiling, my feet swaying as I lifted my legs. I decided to put her out of her misery. “I didn’t see him.”

  “Neither,” Daphne said.

  “Weird,” Willa said. “He wasn’t home last night.”

  “Are you guys like serious or something?”

  Daphne snorted. “What Peggy meant to ask was is your secret relationship the real deal, or are you just messing around because it’s hot and taboo.”

  I guffawed. “That is so not what I said.”

  “But we want to know, right?” Daphne laughed. “Come on, Willa. Just tell us.”

  She was quiet a minute. “I’m still trying to process the fact everyone knows.”

  “Well, process quicker. I need to charge my phone soon.”

  “Bitch,” Willa joked. “We’ve been official for a while.” Her voice quietened. “Not that it matters.”

  “How long is a while?”

  I loved how Daphne interrogated. Well, at times like this. It meant I didn’t have to scrounge up the courage to ask things.

  “Few months, maybe. But it’s been going on longer than that.” I heard a door closing before she continued. “We just didn’t know what to do.”

  “You’re not blood related. What’s the big deal besides your parents?”

  “Um, our parents.” She sighed. “Not to mention, we have the same surname. It’s not exactly normal.”

  “It isn’t,” I said before I could stop myself. “I mean, I get it, but like Daphne said, you’re not actually related so it’s not that b
ad.”

  “We have pictures together of us crawling. We gave up our pacifiers at the same time. Our parents used to try to pass us off as twins.” She groaned. “They’d never, ever be okay with it.”

  “Well, duh,” Daphne said. “But you’ve only got like eight months until school is out, and then you guys will be getting ready to leave for college.”

  My eyes widened. “Oh, please tell me you’re applying for the same colleges.”

  “Look who’s excited now,” Daphne said.

  “Shut up,” I snarked. “I need the excitement. Don’t judge.”

  Willa laughed. “It’s okay. And yeah, we’ve applied for some together.”

  We wrapped up talking about Jackson when Willa heard a noise outside her room and started whispering. My eyes were beginning to grow heavy, so I hung up, mumbling something about seeing them on Monday before I fell asleep with my phone hanging from my fingertips.

  Dash

  The Silver Bridge hotel wasn’t the finest establishment in the area, but it did let me pay cash, so I booked a room, ordered a shit ton of food, and began my new life as a binge-eating, heartbroken, daytime TV watching champion.

  Well, I don’t want your damn love. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not in ten years.

  Those words had shattered me where I’d stood, and I’d left most of me behind when she’d shoved me out the door. It was easier that way. To breathe, to eat, to sleep without the constant turbulence those broken pieces would shake alive.

  Making my own new place in the world, where there were no memories of Peggy and no constant reminders of what I’d ruined, was the best idea I could’ve had, quite frankly.

  And so that was why I was pissed when my scumbag friends somehow tracked me down.

  The phone barked, and I picked it up, confused that it was ringing. I put it down to possibly owing the front desk some money, seeing as I’d only paid for a week. It was now Monday, and I needed to haul my ass to an atm.

  “There’s someone here asking for you—hey!”

  “Dash, what room number?” came Jackson’s voice.

  After I’d gotten over my shock, I smirked. “Take a wild guess.” Then I hung up, leaving the phone off the cradle.

  It took him five minutes, which was kind of sad, really, but he eventually found me. Three thuds smacked on the door. I took my time getting up. “I don’t want none of your beef sausage, Larry James. I’ve already told you, I’m straight.”

  “What the fuck?” Great, Lars was here too.

  “No, I’m not down to fuck. Females. I like females.” I drew the words out, straight-faced. “But I have this friend back home who might like your number. He goes by the name interfering ass—”

  “Dash, shut the fuck up and open the door.”

  I sighed, unlatching the chain, then returned to my sanctuary on the bed.

  “Wow, nice digs,” Raven said, and I scowled, not realizing he’d joined the Dash-has-gone-missing express. “I’m digging the fungus over there.”

  “So’s your mom.”

  Lars chuckled. “Can’t be too messed up if he’s making cracks about your mom.”

  “Room 66?” Jackson drawled. “You’re missing a six.”

  I kicked my feet up, uncaring I was only wearing a T-shirt and briefs. Their fault for intruding. “We have imaginations for a reason, stickler.”

  “Nice thighs. You work them quads, baby?” Raven waggled his brows.

  I fought the temptation to tug at my briefs. “I already told you, Larry. I’m fucking straight.”

  Raven played for both teams and gave zero fucks what anyone thought about it.

  It didn’t bother me, so long as he didn’t go making out with any dudes all up in my space.

  Raven sighed, perching on the edge of the forty-year-old laminate desk. “I knew a Larry once.”

  “Who cares? Can we just grab him and leave?” Jackson peered around. “This place is fucking depressing.” He sniffed, then raised his shirt to his nose, mumbling behind the cotton. “And it smells like moldy feet.”

  “Lay off my sanctuary. It’s been my trusty companion this past week.” I opened a bag of Doritos, popping one into my mouth and crunching. “Unlike you shit-stains.”

  Jackson guffawed. “How the fuck were we supposed to know you were holed up in some musty ass hotel like a beaten down, wounded pussy?”

  Lars nodded, stealing my bag of chips. “And let’s not forget the world doesn’t revolve around you, asshole. We all have our own problems.”

  I scowled as he shoved a handful of my chips inside his mouth, then smirked. “How is the new wife?”

  “She’s not my wife,” he said, coughing and spraying orange crumbs all over the floor.

  “Fucking gross.” Raven laughed.

  Lars flipped him off.

  “She’s not … yet.” I tucked my arms behind my head. “You’ll need to put a ring on that eventually.”

  “Easy, Dash,” Jackson warned. He might have made himself out to be the softhearted one out of all of us, but he was the most conniving, by far. The only difference between us was that he thought things through a little better, rather than acting on impulse.

  A trait I wished I’d had. I’d give him that much but nothing else. I didn’t have anything left to give anyway. “Why?” I glared at Lars. “Fight me.”

  He rolled his eyes, and I laughed. “Another time. I’ve got places to be. Can we jet?”

  “Sure you can. I’ll see you guys never.”

  “Who gets your bikes?” Raven asked, his eyes glinting. “If you’re not coming back, someone needs to use them.”

  “Lars because he’s the broke one and he’ll be even poorer soon.”

  Jackson coughed, trying to smother his laughter.

  “Thanks, man.” Lars nodded.

  “You’re welcome. Now feel free to leave whenever.” I reached for the remote. “I’ve gotta find out if Maria ends up marrying Stephan or if Giovanni breaks up the wedding.”

  “You’re kidding.” Jackson turned to watch the tiny TV come to life.

  Raven jumped onto the bed, kicking his Vans covered feet to the mustard duvet. “I’m down.”

  We fist bumped, then I yanked a fresh bag of chips from the nightstand and ignored the glares from the other two silent sentinels in the room.

  “What have you told your parents?” Lars asked.

  I sighed, hitting pause. “That I’m in mourning, and I’ll be home when I’m not.” So probably never.

  “Mourning?” Raven asked.

  “Over what could’ve been.” I felt like adding duh but refrained.

  Lars’s brows rose. “They’re okay with that?”

  “Not exactly. Dad thinks I’m joking. Mom’s just glad to know I’m alive.”

  Jackson laughed again, then threw his hands into the air. “Come on, he’s fine, and clearly content to be a high school dropout who lives in a mite-infested hotel. Let’s bail.”

  Lars followed him to the door, but Raven looked torn. “I can’t believe you’ve just been allowed to stay here.”

  I couldn’t either, but I had a feeling I only had a few more days before my dad found me and hauled me home. I planned to make the most of it before that happened.

  Lars rapped the doorjamb, wincing as some of the paint flaked off it. “Look, we know you fucked it all up with Peggy.” I waited, tense and ready to launch the remote at his head. “But lying around here isn’t going to make her forgive you.”

  She’d never forgive me, but I was hoping she’d at least miss me. Maybe come and find me to make sure I was alive, then she’d hopefully melt and let me kiss the life from her. That was getting a bit sappy, but I didn’t care. I’d do sappy for Peggy. I’d do sappy, and it’d be as easy as breathing for Peggy.

  “Nice chat. Bye now.”

  Raven stretched his arms over his head as he stood. “You’re seriously not coming?”

  “No, and if I felt so inclined, which I don’t, my own car is in the lot, which I�
�m guessing is how you found me.” I chomped down on some more chips, hitting play.

  “You’re a miserable sonovabitch.”

  “We already know this, Jack, Jack. No need to waste your words.”

  They left, the door shutting behind them.

  The silence that lingered in their sudden absence bit sharply. For someone who enjoyed being alone, I was surprised by how much I actually didn’t mind having them here.

  Peggy’s really fucked me up, I mused, digging out some more chips.

  The door reopened, and Jackson stuck his head back inside. “Oh yeah, forgot to tell you. Peggy seems to have a new penchant for dancing half naked on the beach while drinking vodka and letting assholes rub all up on her.”

  “Bullshit,” I wheezed, unable to fathom it. My chip fell from my hand as he whipped out his phone and crossed the room, shoving a video in my face.

  It was Peggy all right, wearing some black scrap of material and swaying her body into Danny Vestin.

  “Mother of a sorry fucker.” I launched off the bed, racing around the room to collect my things.

  Peggy

  Monday was a bust.

  I’d arrived late on purpose to avoid any gossipmongers staring their fill after the little show I’d put on last Friday night.

  I needn’t have worried. Not only because they were all still too caught up in Annika and Lars’s flakey presence, but because I’d actually done something fun, even if slightly stupid. I shouldn’t be embarrassed for doing the things most girls in our year would do if and when they partied. Dancing and drinking, however sloppily.

  Ugh.

  After fluffing my hair and applying an apple-scented gloss, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door.

  “Oh good, you’re up. Take the trash out, please.”

  I stopped and looked over my shoulder at Mom, who was in her robe on the couch with her Kindle in her lap and dusk pink mug in hand. “Not working today?”

  “I’ve got my period, and my daughter’s recent proclivity to engage in reckless behavior has me in need of a mental health day.” Her eyes darted up at me, and she sipped her coffee, loudly.

 

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