Fuck.
I need to get me some of that. That was hot.
My sister wouldn’t approve.
I look around me at all the boys in this class, considering my options. None of them will do. Not now. Though I’ll be damned if I ever sleep with a guy like Nokosi. Not a chance in hell.
Still, that kiss.
I get to lunch still thinking about it, still consumed by it. How can such a douchebag be so passionate with a girl? Normally they’re out for what they can get and never for what they can give. Does he get off on pleasing women because the way she was rubbing against him meant she was genuinely enjoying herself.
I head outside to the same tree he was at with my phone in hand. I walk around it once checking for spiders and bugs. I come across a plaque at the base facing the entrance, it’s dedicated to some kid that died a couple of years ago. Sad.
I move away from that and rest my head back against the bark and scan the grounds. I should be exploring the school to become more familiar with its layout and people, but I just need this moment to understand a moment that I’ve never witnessed outside of staged porn.
It has blown my mind.
I try to think of other things but it’s near impossible. I need to go for a ride. That’ll get my mind set on the right path.
Lilith: Did Mom clean my jacket?
Willow: I did, last night. You should really take better care of it.
Lilith: You know I didn’t have any control over what they did.
Willow: Just check that you’re not on the res before you tread dirt. Okay?
Lilith: I should make them pay for what they did to me.
Willow: Good luck finding them… on their own land… Miss Brainiac.
Lilith: Even through text message your sarcasm is strong.
Willow: I learned from the best. Be nice to your peers. Blend in. Or try to.
Lilith: Whatever…
I see Nok with two male friends exiting the main entrance to the right. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as they throw each other around, playfighting and showing off like little boys. I stand, ready to follow from a safe distance when he suddenly clocks me and stops in his tracks.
His black hair is piled up on his head in a messy knot, his eyes are tense and dangerous. He glares at me, trying to intimidate me and I glare back, unphased by his tactic.
“Come on, Nok,” one of his buddies urges, still smiling from the playfighting. “I’m fucking starved.”
Nok tears his eyes away and I wait a moment before following, ignoring the bustle of the students. I just need to know what he’s driving.
I swing my keys around my finger, making it look like I’m headed to my own car, and hasten my steps when they all climb into a large four-by-four truck with a covered bed. I memorize the license plate and brand as it peels out of the lot, and then, smiling to myself, I climb into my own car and type it into my phone.
Got him.
They return forty minutes later, and I follow them inside, not because I have to, but just because I want to appreciate his rear for just a bit longer. It’s a nice, firm, round, athletic rear. It’s just a shame it’s attached to such a douchebag.
I do love though how he automatically has an issue with me. Like he just knows I’m about to make his life hell. He’s obviously very perceptive.
But so am I.
He obviously has good instincts.
But so do I.
I notice him glance over his shoulder at me as we both stroll down the hall in the same direction. I notice his lips purse and his eyes narrow. I notice him whisper to the guy on his right.
They keep going, but so do I. I quicken my pace to get even closer, shouldering past coeds and even teachers. I get so close at one point I’m a nose breadth away from his back. I could kiss his spine if I wanted to; that dip that rests perfectly center to both sides of his body.
God, he smells good.
Then I drop back, just in time for him to check again without seeing how close I was. Though he felt me for the most part, I was too quick for him to catch.
He glances behind him again and I smirk at him.
He takes the bait, stops, and turns so suddenly it takes his friends another two steps to realize he’s no longer walking with them.
“What the fuck do you want, maggot?”
The people around us still like before, a few laugh, the boys with him share excited glances.
“Your attention,” I state boldly, still smirking.
He scoffs and looks around him with a fake smile on his face. He’s assessing his peers. Checking they’re listening to him for when he roasts me.
I beat him to the punch and hold up the black leather square, full of bank cards and cash and likely his ID. His smile fades and his eyes go to the wallet. It really is quite full of some serious dollar. I should have snuck a few out of it.
“You dropped your wallet.” I hold his gaze and his dark eyes lose the hardness they had.
He tries to snatch it from my hand while sneering at me. “Don’t touch anything that belongs to me, belegana.” I move my hand away, keeping it out of reach.
“Okay, so I should have just let somebody else pick it up and steal your cash? I’ll do that the next time your irresponsible ass can’t keep track of your shit in my path.” I slap it against his chest so hard the sound echoes around the hall and his chest muscle twitches under the force. He grits his teeth. “You’re welcome.”
He catches it before it falls past his waistline and watches me saunter away, flipping him off over my shoulder as I go. I catch the eyes of Barbie and her squad; she surprisingly gives me a sympathetic smile.
Sympathy over what?
I’ve got Nok exactly where I want him.
“We have to make our own luck,” my sister says, picking at the food on her plate. She’s not been eating much of anything lately. “You’ve got to stop picking so many fights.”
“I enjoy it. It gives me something to focus on before Mom makes us leave again.”
She laughs under her breath, her pink lips stretching and showing a slight tinge of blue around the edges.
“You’re cold,” I say, frowning.
She nods so I race into the den to grab her favorite mustard yellow throw. I drape it over her shoulders and pull free her dark brown braid. “I’m feeling a lot weaker than usual today.”
“That’s the drugs,” I respond. “You need to take them earlier and eat more.”
“Whatever,” she grumbles, casting her sad hazel eyes to her plate again where she proceeds to push it around with her fork some more. “Do you want this?”
“No, I’ll put it in the oven, it’ll keep for Mom.”
“If she ever gets home.”
We laugh gently together. Mom is struggling with Willow’s decline, so she finds any excuse to work out of the house. And when she’s home, Willow finds any excuse to be in her room.
“Thanks for cleaning my jacket for me.”
She smiles again and shivers again.
Fuck. I hate this. I hate seeing her this fragile.
“Why were you so late coming home after school?” she asks, coughing violently the moment the question ends. She sounds terrible. I wait for her to start breathing again, letting her squeeze my hand as the coughing takes over her entire body.
I take her arm and guide her to the stairs while replying, “I just had a couple of errands to run.”
I followed Nokosi home as discreetly as possible, not easy through the res where every road is essentially private, I had to hang back so far I almost lost him a few times.
I was… surprised by what I saw. By the amount of cash that was in his wallet and the type of truck he owns I expected to see him living by some fancy casino in a mansion with a butler. An exaggeration of course. Instead he lives in what can only be described as a modernized log cabin, big enough for a very small family. There were others in the distance and even a couple of tiki huts from what I could see using my binocu
lars through the thick trees.
But at least now I know where he lives.
“And how much longer until we move again?”
The million-dollar question. “Hopefully not too soon, it’s real pretty here.”
“I might go out later—” She stumbles and starts coughing again.
“Don’t be stupid, you’re a walking corpse.”
She tries to laugh but it makes her choking worse.
We wait for it to pass before she croaks a husky, “Okay, I’m going to sleep. Is that cool?”
I nod, taking a lot of her weight as we make our way up the staircase. My body aches still but it’s nothing compared to how she’s feeling. “So long as it’s cool with you that I go out on my bike.”
“Your jacket is behind your bedroom door.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“You owe me.”
I roll my eyes. “I think I do enough for you already.”
Grinning, she pads into her bedroom, blows me a kiss, and shuts the door. I race to my own and grab my jacket before pulling it on, feeling confident that I know the layout of the reservation now. I know where it ends, and I know where to avoid.
I’m not sure I should even be going back out, not with the state my body is in right now, but I need to. I need to get my head on straight and this is how I do it. Not in Dad’s shitty Prius.
I take to the road again, gloveless, jacket on, helmet tight, and navigate through the small amount of traffic.
I go up and down and around before hitting the dirt path I took yesterday, but this time I turn right instead of left and follow it to a point I marked on my phone map. It’s not too far from the reservation but I don’t care. I like playing with fire, I like the burn, I love the chase, I envy the power.
Plus, it’s the only place close enough to home that looks bumpy enough to ride around and it’s clear, so I won’t get any little fucktards with rope trying to snap my neck from behind the trees.
Pussies.
My anger at them comes forward and I pick up speed, skidding around a sharp bend on the footpath before careening off course and almost losing myself over the edge of a fucking cliff.
“SHIT!” I curse, breathing heavily as my heart rapidly beats behind my ribs.
That was way too close.
I need to control my fucking temper, but God I want to hammer them into the ground so hard for what they did. It remains prevalent even as I try to figure out where I went wrong and how I got so off course.
I rip my helmet off and look over the cliff edge, the tip of my toe hanging over the edge. I get a delirious jolt of adrenaline from being so close to the edge of death, a good hundred-foot drop between me and the coarse ground below.
What a thrill.
I sit, letting my legs dangle, digging my fingers into the moss that is covering the smooth rocky surface.
This place truly is beautiful. I can see a branch of water coming from the Columbia River which is miles to the west.
I take out my phone and snap a picture to send to Willow. I wish she could sit here with me.
Willow: Wow. Amazing. But foggy. You should be careful.
Smiling, I tuck my phone back into my zip pocket and stand on the edge again, spreading my arms to feel the gentle wind flow around my body and through my hair.
I count the tops of the trees and the rocks and count my heartbeat against the sound of the water as it flows.
Its tempo is now faster than my heartbeat.
So soothing. So wonderful.
“If you jump, there’s a high chance you’ll survive and break every bone in your body,” an unfamiliar male voice calls from the tree line behind me.
I turn to face the intruder, spotting a man not much older than me watching me carefully. He’s leaning against a big leaf maple, his arms folded over his chest, his biceps bulging against the fabric of his short-sleeve blue shirt that’s wide open at the front. His chest is bare, hairless, muscular.
He looks like Nokosi, but I won’t say that for fear of them not being related and then I’m just low-key racist.
“I’m not on the res. I got a local map and marked it off.”
“Didn’t say you were,” he replies, smiling now. “Nice bike.”
I step away from the cliff edge and move to my discarded green pit bike. When he lifts it off its side to an upright position, I’m sad to see the paintwork has scratched on the rocky ground when I skidded to a stop. I’m lucky I didn’t tear my leg up though these jeans aren’t faring much better than the paintwork of my bike.
“How is it?” He motions to the leg I’m checking over by peeling back the torn flaps of my pants.
I rub it down and peel apart the small rips to check for damage to my skin. I got off lightly. “This place is trying to kill me.”
“Is that so?” He pushes a hand through his short black hair. “Or maybe you’re taking unnecessary risks riding your bike like a lunatic through forests you don’t know?”
“We’ve all got to die sometime right?”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t try to delay it for a while.”
I grin at him, figuring this dude isn’t so bad, I don’t completely feel like I want to avoid him. “But where’s the fun in that?”
Laughing gently, he swings his leg over my bike and kick starts it with a powerful push of his foot. I tense, wondering if he’s about to leave me out here but he just makes it roar, startling birds from the trees and other creatures into deeper woods.
“You going to steal my bike?” I ask and he pats the space behind him. “You’re kidding? I’m not riding off into the sunset with my friendly neighborhood native.”
He laughs louder this time and holds his smile as he pats the seat again and assures me, “I’m not about to kidnap you, but I will take you some place better than this part of the forest. Somewhere you’ll appreciate.”
I hesitate, wishing he’d just get off my bike and fuck off back to his hut or whatever.
Now that was definite racism.
But then he taunts, “What’s more thrilling than something as random as climbing onto a bike with a complete stranger?”
And I conclude that he has a point. “Fine.” I grab my helmet and yank it on my head, he watches me click it into place. “You ever ridden one of these before?”
“Best rider in Oregon.”
I roll my eyes and swing my leg over. I’ve not done this since my dad used to take me out on his as a little girl. I don’t know what to do with my hands.
“What’s your name?” he calls, his voice deep and gravelly.
“Lilith,” I reply. “Yours?”
“Nash,” he answers and waits for me to grip the seat. I’m not about to wrap my arms around him.
“Where are you taking me, Nash?”
He smirks at me over his shoulder. “You’ll see.”
We jet forward, taking the path that I skidded off. I squeak, not used to the feeling of not being in control of my own bike and very soon my hands leave the seat and grip his bare waist. I feel him laugh at me and resist the urge to pinch his skin.
We whip through the trees, zigzagging on rocky paths that completely batter my parted thighs and rear. I slip forward without meaning to, my chest against his back. It’s so uncomfortable in a really comfortable way.
Maybe this guy can scratch my itch?
We ride for another ten minutes, I try to pay close attention to where I am but after a while all the trees, rocks, green bits, and streams become the same.
Finally, the trees break apart and we enter a massive clearing, this one mostly dirt and there are a few people on quad bikes and a dirt bike flying over steep inclines into watery, shallow trenches.
“No fucking way,” I squeak as indigenous people look our way. “We are definitely on the res now.”
“It’s okay, we’re not white-people-hating devils out for your blood,” he retorts in jest as I yank my helmet from my head. “You’re welcome to come here whenever you like.”
I push back the hair that has escaped my braid and hook it around my ears, watching dirt bike guy get squirrelly for a second as he tries to land a move beyond his capabilities. Yikes.
“You don’t know me, why are you being so kind?”
He ignores my question and climbs from my bike after securing its standing position.
I change my question. “How did you know I was there anyway?”
“Fate? I don’t know. I was planning on going for a swim, there’s a lake near where you were.”
“So that’s why you’re topless,” I point out. “Isn’t it too cold to swim?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Not for me.”
“Well… whatever… thanks for bringing me here. Why is this even here?”
“Where else am I going to practice?”
“Yeah, you need it,” I joke, making him laugh because we both know he doesn’t need it. He handled my unfamiliar ride like a fucking dream, he made me feel amateur and it’s my fucking bike. “Thanks for the offer.”
“Nash, who’s she?” one of the girls from a small group of friends asks as they make their way over. She sounds curious, not threatened. This is good, I think.
“Just a lost puppy I found in the woods.”
I don’t like that one bit and I let him know I don’t like it with a glare that does nothing to shift his smile.
She struts towards me, legs bared in denim shorts, thick black hair in a ponytail to her mid-back, skin a dark, golden, reddish brown like Nash’s and Nok’s. Her friends stay behind, one of them seems to be recording the others on their rides.
She looks at Nash, a recognizable glint in her eye, disappointment, jealousy, lust. She wants this guy and he just rolled up with me.
I take a step to the side to let her know I’m not interested in him, at all, in any way. I’m just here to ride.
“Can I?” I ask him before I’m forced through introductions I don’t care about.
Naked or Dead Page 3