Naked or Dead

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Naked or Dead Page 2

by Murphy, A. E.


  I give her a look. “Is that your way of telling me you’re sleeping with him?”

  Her posse look at her, a silent conversation passing between them. Not a good one from what I can tell too.

  Barbie flips her blonde hair over her shoulder and raises her chin. “Hell no. I’ve been there and done that. He’s… Nok is dangerous.”

  My skin prickles with excitement. “Dangerous how?”

  “He’s rough, gets into a lot of trouble,” the girl who laughed says quietly as the others glance around them. “He’s basically immune to the law too.”

  “Yeah,” the final girl adds, her eyes wide. “He like totally doesn’t care about anything and he hates white people.”

  Of course he does, that’s not going to help my case much.

  “The locals did try to sell his family’s lands to push an oil pipe through, we did a fundraiser to stop that shit and it’s protected lands now,” Barbie adds, frowning at her friend. “But they’re right, he’s dangerous.”

  “If he hates white people why did he sleep with you?”

  “That’s why he slept with her.”

  Barbie nods her agreement. “He’s not a nice guy.”

  “Thank you for the heads-up.” I’m about to move around her when she steps in front of me again.

  “This is Tish,” Barbie says, pointing at the girl who laughed. “Mila, and Kim.”

  Why is she introducing them like I care?

  “Pleasure,” I murmur, looking at the girls from right to left. It’s nice to see such a diverse group of friends, even if they are mega bitches. “May I get on with my day, Queen Barbie?”

  “It’s Yasmine.”

  I stick my thumb up and saunter past. This school is hell already.

  “You need friends here if you want to survive,” Barbie calls after me, her words echoing along the near-empty hall.

  “She’s right,” Tish adds.

  “Friends will just slow me down,” I utter to myself and continue on my way.

  Besides… I don’t plan on surviving.

  I explore some more but my aim now is the reception. I’m hoping I can sweet talk my way into getting more information on this Nokosi character. Such as where he lives.

  The receptionist is a no go. The sour-faced bitch wouldn’t even smile. There’s no way I’m getting into the system this way.

  I’ll just have to do some good old-fashioned stalking.

  Except Nokosi isn’t here. He was sent home after his fight this morning. So was the guy he fought with. She told me that much at least.

  Ugh.

  Now I’ve got to wait until tomorrow.

  I need to practice patience. I’m too eager.

  I head back out to the halls and squeeze through the crowds of people, glaring at those who don’t move.

  Columbia River is quite possibly the most beautiful place I have ever been. Truly. Oregon is incredible.

  I drive my forest green Kurz pit bike, something we agreed I wouldn’t ride to school because I would just stick out like a sore thumb wacked by a hammer. So, I take my dad’s silver Prius to school and leave the bike out of sight. I hate this arrangement. I love my bike, I hate Dad’s car.

  I needed to get out of there, my new home, if I can call it that.

  My sister is losing her fucking mind, so it’s best to just stay out of her way. She doesn’t like it here, but then again, she doesn’t like it anywhere. She doesn’t like much of anything, or anyone. We don’t talk anymore, not like we used to. I’d shed a tear over it, but I don’t really care anymore. I don’t really care about anything, or anyone.

  I burn rubber, one foot on the ground as the engine roars and my back wheel kicks up dirt and grass, creating a small ditch in the lumpy earth.

  My bare hand feels on fire as I twist the throttle to full speed.

  I shoot forward, taking the first hill with ease, landing with a jarring thud that almost throws me off and will give me some major monkey butt. I did not land it right so now I’m frustrated. I spin on the spot, creating a circular rivet and then line myself up with the next slope.

  I fly at it and catch air again, performing a whip, though not a full one because the slope didn’t give me enough height to work with. I land skewwhiff but correct it and keep going, ready for the next slope. This place is a biker’s dream, so many rocky paths and slopes to catch. The dirt is solid beneath a thin layer of wet, and the grass isn’t too long to maneuver through.

  I rotate round, letting the sound of the engine overtake all my senses, and hit the biggest slope. But I snag, my chest feels tight as something hits me across the shoulders. The wind leaves my lungs and my bike goes forward as my body stays in the same place before slamming hard onto the ground on my back.

  Can’t breathe.

  I’ve been clotheslined.

  I roll onto my side, spluttering for air as the pain in my chest and back intensifies. That’s going to hurt tomorrow. Fuck. It already does.

  I can hardly breathe. I wasn’t expecting it. I knew I should have found a place with less trees. Though I don’t think a tree did this to me.

  I look up at the sky through the dark shade of my helmet and try to steady my breathing.

  I hear footsteps getting closer and voices getting louder.

  “Howah!” one voice breathes. “It’s like a chick, cri.”

  “You think she’s dead?”

  A foot taps my helmet.

  I close my eyes when one of them flips my visor up, revealing my eyes.

  “I think she is.”

  “F’reals?”

  “I don’t know, I’m not a doctor.”

  His fingers go to my wrist which I keep limp. “I can’t feel a pulse, but her chest is moving.”

  When the second one crouches beside me and starts to unzip my leather jacket, I bring my booted foot up and kick the first one over, making them both scream with shock and terror. Then I bring my helmeted head up and into the nose of the one trying to unzip me.

  I jump to my feet and race to where my bike landed in the dirt just a few meters ahead, ignoring the pain in my ribs and back. They both scramble around each other, taken by surprise at my quick movements.

  “Hey! You’re not supposed to be here; this is private land!”

  “You could have just told me that, you fucking assholes!” I shriek back but don’t stop.

  I pick up my bike and sling a leg over it. I start the engine just as one of them reaches me and grabs my arm but it’s too late, I sail forward, dragging him with me for half a meter before he lets me go.

  I power shift, almost fucking up my clutch, and put them as far behind me as I can.

  That wasn’t supposed to happen. Those absolute fucktards. They could have killed me. I’m lucky they didn’t.

  I ride home, swerving around cars, lorries, whatever the fuck is in my way.

  “You’re back earlier than expected,” Mom says when I walk through the door, rage in every step I take. “And dirtier.”

  I kick off my boots and drop my jacket on the floor. “I fucking hate it here.”

  “Language,” she admonishes, her pale blue eyes narrowing with anger.

  I say nothing else and stomp up the stairs and to my room. I haven’t unpacked. I don’t see the point. Everywhere we go is temporary. Mom’s job makes it so.

  I pass my sister’s room where music hums through the door and wall. It’s shit music too so I play mine louder to drown it out, then I have a bath and wipe myself out with some extreme pain killers.

  Those absolute dicks.

  Who the fuck clotheslines somebody to get them off a bike? If they’d flagged me down, I’d have gone elsewhere. I’m not looking to start debating over who owns what land. I don’t really care. We’re on the banks of Columbia River, there’s nothing but land out here, not gonna be hard to find somewhere else to ride my bike.

  Absolute dicks.

  Gah.

  I’m so mad.

  I’m also sleepy.

/>   I crash butt naked on the top of my covers and close my eyes. I’m going to feel so fucking groggy tomorrow, but I don’t care about that either.

  A russet brown hand slams my locker closed, almost catching my fingers in the process. The hall around me stills and people move away but stay to watch the exchange.

  I can smell him, smoky, powerful, masculine. It makes me want to inhale deeply.

  His breathing is steady, his chest almost brushing against my back. I feel shadowed, completely covered by his athletic body. His forearm is as powerful as the bicep he kissed yesterday. His nails are trimmed neat and his hands are clean.

  There’s something to be said about a man-slash-boy with good hand hygiene. My dad always said that if somebody displays good hand hygiene, they likely have good other hygiene too.

  “You’re new,” Nokosi growls, his tone rough and deep. This is the first time I’ve heard him speak. His voice is… wow.

  “And?” I respond, my tone strong as I keep my eyes on my matte black locker.

  “And that doesn’t just give you a free pass to wander wherever the fuck you like, belegana.”

  I close my eyes for a moment when he wraps my thick braid around his hand and yanks my head back. It pulls on my scalp and makes my already sore neck ache. My heart is hammering in my chest so rapidly I’m surprised it hasn’t chiseled a hole through my ribs.

  “Fair warning,” he whispers in my ear, his lips almost touching the shell. It sends prickles of fear and arousal down my spine. My ears are one of my most erogenous zones. “If you tread where you’re not welcome again, you’ll get more than just a hand in your hair.”

  I don’t say anything, but oh I want to. I want to cuss and spit and press my knife against his throat so hard that he bleeds. But instead keep my lips a thin line and stare at a mark on my locker door. I would never have noticed it had I not been forced to look for it. That’s how clean and well-kempt these lockers are.

  “Am I understood?”

  “Perhaps you can draw me a map?” I bite back and my bruised front hits the lockers. I bite on my tongue to stop me from crying out. That really fucking hurts. “Let me go.”

  “Am I understood?”

  “Yes,” I breathe, needing him to just let go of my hair so I can regain control of the situation.

  “Remember this moment and imagine how much worse it can be,” he hisses, pulling even harder on my hair before finally releasing me and stalking away with his equally tall and muscular tanned and dark friends at his sides. One of them slaps my ass as he passes.

  Dick.

  That’s sexual harassment, he’s lucky I’m not a snitch. Though something tells me in a school like this, shit like that gets swept under a very heavy rug.

  I stare at Nokosi’s back as he walks away, a stride in his step like he owns this fucking place and the fact that there are two teachers walking by who definitely saw the exchange and did nothing, just further proves that he’s King of this castle.

  But why?

  Loki was right, he really is the most arrogant prick here. Somebody needs to bring him down a peg or two. I’m not sure that I care enough anymore to try.

  This place will not cut me a break.

  Lilith: I hate it here.

  Willow: So you’ve said.

  Lilith: It’s the worst place we’ve been so far.

  Willow: And the most prestigious, so it should be the best.

  Lilith: Right?! Wish you were here.

  Willow: Glad I’m not.

  I laugh and stuff my phone into my pocket. My sister can be okay sometimes. We used to be a lot closer.

  “Lilith?”

  I look at Loki who is sitting to my right again in this class. “Mm?”

  “Are you okay?”

  I’m surprised by his concern. “Fine, why?”

  “I saw what happened with Nok. I just thought…” He shrugs his shoulders. “I’ve been on the receiving end of his shit before, it’s not nice.”

  “Oh, that.” I smile genuinely, to reassure him and because it just seems the right thing to do with my face at this point. “I’d already forgotten about it.”

  “Oh… well, good.” His brows draw together from the confusion. “What did you do to get his attention?”

  I contemplate not telling him but then that’d just be petty. “Drove my pit bike through his lands… apparently.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, Nok’s tribe are like worse than the Canadian border. Be careful. They rule the roost around here.”

  “I’m starting to gather that.”

  He shifts in his seat and opens the textbook on his desk. “Why did you want to know who the most arrogant guy in the school is?”

  I tap my nose and look at my own books. Then I look up at the board and do the work I’m supposed to be doing. It gets rid of the humming noise in my head for long enough. Thankfully.

  I get bored after all of ten minutes and go back to texting my sister. She doesn’t respond.

  Cunt-bitch that she is.

  This is so fucking dull.

  “Does your hair color fade quickly?” questions Mackenzie, who is sitting to my left. She’s the same girl who was sitting in the corner alone surrounded by paper the other day.

  Lifting a shoulder, I glance at her, meeting her silver eyes for a second and reply, “Not if I use color protection shampoos and conditioner.”

  “Brilliant!” She holds out a lock of her auburn hair. “Reckon it would take?”

  I snort. “Umm, definitely not. You’d need to either gradually go to a platinum shade like I did and then apply a pink, or nuke it with bleach, apply a pink and have pink hair for two weeks before it all snaps off.

  She looks disheartened. “What’s your natural shade?”

  Why do these people ask dumb fucking questions? “Pink.”

  “No, seriously.”

  I deadpan, “Pink.”

  It’s obviously not pink, but it’s also none of her business. I lift my braid into the light and admire the pastel pink sheen. I honestly thought they’d make me change my hair to fit their image at this school, but they haven’t said a thing about it. So long as I roll up in their plaid skirt and navy blazer, they seem content with anything else as it is.

  “A woman of mystery, I like it,” she mutters to herself and I find myself smiling for real this time. She’s funny, in a natural way, not the attention-seeking kind of way. Then, just when I think she’s done talking to me she adds, “I’m Mack, by the way, short for Mackenzie.”

  I look at her outstretched hand and clasp mine together, letting her know I don’t want to touch her. “I’m Lilith.”

  She retracts her hand, still smiling at me. “Lilith Deville, right? Very biblical and kinda creepy, no offence.”

  “None taken.”

  “Good, I got worried you’d snap my prized pencil,” she holds up a metallic rose gold pencil with her name inscribed in the side in black lettering. “Isn’t she a beauty?”

  “If you don’t poke me with it I’m sure it will survive the semester.”

  “Awesome,” she whispers as the teacher walks back into class, having stepped out five minutes ago for something. I don’t know what thing. “So that’s why you snapped Loki’s pencil?”

  “Does it really matter? It’s just a pencil.”

  “It was rude,” Loki hisses.

  I spin and glare at him. “Rude is poking somebody you don’t know with a pencil.”

  “Wasn’t like it was the pointy end,” he grumbles to himself.

  “Settle down, class.” The teacher’s voice sounds as mundane as I’m feeling. “Ah, we have fresh meat. Welcome to Lakeside Preparatory, Miss…”

  “Lilith Deville,” I reply for the millionth time since yesterday.

  “Ah yes, I have you here…” She presses something on her tablet, and I wonder why all of the teachers but Mr. Bromley have high-tech gadgets to take the roll call. “So where do you hail from?”

  “Everywhere. Mom’s
an environmentalist so we travel,” I answer robotically, also for the millionth time since yesterday.

  “Wow, that’s interesting. What kind of things does she do?”

  I sigh and shrug my shoulders. “Environmental stuff.”

  The class snickers as the teacher frowns but she doesn’t comment on my reluctance to respond with genuine answers to her prying. “Okay, well, I’m Ms. Bacon, it’s nice to have you in my class.”

  “Thanks.” I look away, out of the window, hoping to daydream my way through the rest of the day. I blink twice when I catch sight of somebody by a big tree across a staggered stepped walkway that leads to the main entrance.

  It’s Nokosi in his uniform, and some girl in a white top, standing in the rain beneath the budding leaves of the tree. He has her caged in, his hands on the bark either side of her head, she’s smiling at him. He smiles back, leans in, and kisses her lips, then deepens it, making her cheeks hollow and her body relax. Her hands grip his blazer-clad waist until he pulls her leg over his hip. The dark skin of her bare navel makes his bare arms look almost red in comparison. Hers bronze, his umber. Both so attractive. But I can guarantee she’s not his girlfriend. Nokosi doesn’t have girlfriends, I can tell that about him already.

  I can’t tear my eyes away, the way he commands her body with just his tongue in her mouth. I’ve never been kissed like that. Sure, I’ve been kissed but he’s not just kissing her, he’s possessing her.

  She’s bending her body to meet his like she’s desperate for more of a taste. How much more of a taste can she get with her tongue in his mouth already?

  I’ve never seen anybody kiss like this, let alone be kissed like that myself.

  I touch my lips, imagining a tingle there that will probably never be there.

  Principal Cooper appears out of nowhere waving a finger at them, pointing towards the parking lot while his lips form words I can’t hear. Nokosi peels himself away from the girl and pushes his wet hair from his eyes before sauntering back into the school. The girl walks away from the school entirely. Her lack of uniform just shows that she doesn’t go here. I’m pretty sure she’s native, maybe half and half because her skin is darker, and her hair is poker straight but is starting to frizz where the rain has been wetting it

 

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