by Nicole Fox
“Sweet and salty,” I say, licking my lips. “Okay.”
We get back in the car and go to the drive-through. Neither of us say much.
I order a cookies and cream shake with a large bag of fries. Mom goes for the dulce de leche with tater tots.
My shake is mostly liquid by the time we get back to the motel, but I don’t mind. I drink it like a smoothie as we watch trash television on the staticky TV in the room.
Outside of this room, everything is a mess. Finn is—shit, I don’t know what he is. Same goes for Dallas, for Cora, for Ravenlake Prep. Nothing makes sense.
But right here, there’s just fast food and my mother and terrible shows on the television.
For right now, we can pretend that things are okay.
14
Lily
When Monday comes and I have to go back to school, I keep on pretending.
Even as I wake up, pull on my ripped high-waisted jeans, and grab an oversized white T-shirt I cut into a crop top that shows off just the barest hint of midriff, I pretend.
I pretend the party on Friday never happened.
I pretend that Finn never slid his fingers inside of me, that he didn’t spill himself across my chest.
I pretend that I never walked out of his room, down the hall, and into a living nightmare.
I pretend … until I can’t.
“I heard she does anal.”
“Finn Foster tapped that? No fucking way.”
“Apparently, she did it to pay for drugs.”
People are still talking about me, but for very different reasons now. When I first arrived, it was all about me being the girl who got Nico Barber sent away.
Now, I’m the school slut.
I honestly can’t decide if it’s an improvement or not.
I see Cora in the hallway after my art class. I watch her walk towards me, waiting for her to acknowledge me. To do or say something to let me know where I stand.
Does she know about Dallas Martin? I never got the chance to tell her explicitly at the party. Was she in on it?
I hug my sketchbook to my chest, my fingers worrying the edge of the pages.
Clearly, she knows Finn, and from what I could tell on Friday night, they don’t like one another.
Maybe Cora can help me.
Maybe she will know what to do about Finn and Dallas and … all of it.
We are about to pass one another, and Cora still hasn’t looked over at me. I don’t want to miss this opportunity to reach out to someone, so, I veer towards her slightly.
As soon as I move into her path, Cora snaps her attention to me.
I’ve never been on the receiving end of so much malice before. Her red hair is curled around her pale face in large waves like flames, and her eyes are a deadly, nuclear green. She looks like an angry siren ready to devour an unsuspecting sailor whole, bones and all.
Before I can say anything, she shoves me hard with her shoulder. “Get the fuck out of my way, slut.”
A few passing students scurry away from the scene, and I don’t blame them. I wish I could do the same. I wish I could burrow into the wall like a rat and live my days in the ductwork. That would be far better than being me right now. Than going to this school, with these people. These horrible, monstrous people.
I avoid eating my lunch on the grass behind the school because I’m afraid I’ll run into Finn or Cora. But also because I’m afraid of being confronted with Dallas’s absence.
I feel like as long as I avoid seeing him—or not seeing him—then I can avoid confirming that he is really dead.
It’s denial in its purest form.
By the time I’m in my last class of the day, PE, I’m convinced I can make it out of the school without seeing Finn. The girls’ locker room has a back exit through the gym, and from there, I can walk straight out to the trash cans where I normally meet my mom. It’s perfect.
After class is over, I take my time in the locker room. Mom will be a bit finishing up her shift, so I’m in no rush. Besides, the rest of the girls change and take off quick. They’re in a hurry to get back to their luxurious homes and rich, happy lives. I don’t mind being alone in here.
I slip out of my cotton shorts and white T-shirt, and fold them into a neat pile on the bench. But when I turn around to open my locker, I scream.
Cora is standing directly behind me, less than a foot away, and I didn’t hear her approach.
I stumble backwards, my legs hitting the metal bench so I fall on my ass with a loud smack that echoes in the locker room.
“Shit,” I breathe, clutching my chest. “You scared me. What are you doing?”
Suddenly, two more girls appear on either end of the lockers. They wear expressions that mirror Cora’s—disgust.
I understand immediately: this is a setup.
I have to get out of here.
I know I could outrun any of these girls, especially since they are all back in their normal school clothes and impractical sandals, but I’m naked. Or, almost naked.
Just as I think about lunging for my pile of clothes, Cora picks them up and tosses them to the girl next to her.
“Lily doesn’t need these anymore. The way I hear it, she spends most of her time naked anyway.”
Tears well up in my eyes, but I force them away, blinking rapidly. “Cora, stop. Why are you—”
She spins on her heel and opens my locker. The hallway lockers have combinations, but the ones in the locker rooms require you buy your own lock. I’ve been a little too busy to go out and buy mine yet.
“Because,” Cora explains as she rips my clothes out of the locker, “you are probably riddled with diseases, and none of us want to catch any of your skanky germs.”
She throws my jeans to the dark-haired girl and my shirt to the other one. Immediately, they walk away in either direction, taking every article of clothing I have with them.
“I don’t have any diseases. I didn’t do anything to you.”
I stand up and try to face Cora, but I’m naked, and it all feels borderline hysterical. I take a deep breath and lower my voice, trying to appeal to the girl I thought was my friend.
“I borrowed your dress on Friday. I thought we were friends. I don’t know why—”
“Friends?” She snorts with disbelief. “You and I will never be friends. We aren’t even the same species.”
I hear the showers running in the back of the locker room, and the two girls are laughing. Whatever they are doing with my clothes must be hilarious. I’m too confused to even consider what I’m going to wear out of school today.
“Okay, but do we have to be enemies?” I cross my arms over my stomach, trying to cover myself. “Can’t we just … coexist?”
The showers are still running, but Cora’s friends reappear, flanking her on either side, smirking with obvious delight at my misfortune.
Cora tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowed. “Think about a bowl of fruit.”
“Fruit?”
“Yes,” she snaps. “Shut up and listen. When there is a rotten piece of fruit in the bowl, it infects the others. It makes them disgusting and unappetizing and inedible. You, Lily DeVry, are a rotten-ass piece of fruit, and our only chance of survival is to kick you out of the bowl. Got it?”
No. Not at all. Not even a little bit.
“Is it because I’m poor?” I ask, growing angry. My face is hot and flushed. “Is it because I wasn’t born with rich parents on the right side of town? Are you honestly that shallow that you will judge someone based on nothing more than their socioeconomic status? Because you could have just as easily been born in my place. You do realize that, right? The only thing you did to be standing there instead of where I am standing is come from a rich daddy. Big fucking deal.”
Just as I’m finished, Cora reels back and slaps me in the face.
My head snaps to the side, and I lose my balance on the tile floor, my socked feet slipping out from under me. My elbow cracks down on the metal
bench before I crumple to the floor.
Cora squats down over me, her top lip pulled back in a sneer. She opens her mouth to say something.
But before she can, someone near the door clears their throat.
For a split second, I’m relieved. It’s a teacher. An administrator here to break this up and set me free.
Then, I see the square jaw and cold blue eyes of the last person I want to see—even less than I want to see Cora.
Finn Foster.
15
Lily
“You’d hate to be late for cheerleading practice, girls,” Finn says, tipping his head towards the door. “I know how much you all love to practice spreading your legs for our football team.”
“Go fuck yourself, Finn,” Cora snarls.
“Gladly,” he smirks. “Would you like to watch?”
Cora tries to look horrified, but her eyes slide to the front of his jeans. I wonder if they’ve ever done anything together.
It shouldn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter …
Except it kind of does.
Am I just in the middle of a lovers’ spat?
Cora glares at him for a second, spits on the floor next to me, and then leaves without another word, disappearing as quickly as she appeared.
I sit up and rub my elbow. I can already feel a welt forming beneath the skin.
“Is it possible for you to stay out of trouble for a single second?”
Finn is standing over me, the fluorescents casting him in silhouette. He looks like a vision, and I hate him for it.
“Apparently not.”
Finn grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet in one clean motion. My almost naked body slams against his, and I’m intensely aware of how many layers of clothing he is wearing and how many I am not.
He must notice as well. His jaw clenches. “Where are your clothes?”
I recognize that the showers are still running and quickly pull myself out of his grip and run back to the stalls. As soon as I turn the corner, I see water spilling out of one of the stalls, spreading in a wide circle around a drain that is clogged with my jeans.
“Shit.”
I run into the shower and turn it off, but not before being soaked in icy-cold water. I bend down and pull my pants from the drain. As soon as I grab them, soap squeezes out of the denim. My shampoo bottle is sitting empty on the floor.
I curse again. Walking out of this room in soapy, wet clothes might be worse than leaving naked.
“Bitches.”
I turn around and Finn is staring at the mess, shaking his head.
“They’re your friends, aren’t they?”
He sneers, managing to look attractive even in his disgust. “God, no. I hate them. That’s why they hate you.”
I lean back against the stall door, not even caring that I’m in a public shower. I just need a second to catch my breath. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t heard what people are saying about us.” Finn chuckles darkly.
I hate the traitorous zing of awareness that rushes through me at the thought of Finn and I as an us.
“Those girls, regardless of my hatred and their better sense, want to be you right now.”
“Even Cora?”
“Especially Cora,” he snorts. “Her stock is slipping around here, and she’d love nothing more than the boost a roll in the sheets with me could get her. It’s why she shoved that pill between her tits.”
The mention of Friday night brings back every other memory from that night, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. My heart starts to thunder in my chest, and I lay a hand over it, trying to ground myself, trying to catch my breath.
Suddenly, Finn is in front of me. He presses our foreheads together and takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. I follow suit, breathing in and out with him for a long time.
Once my heart steadies, I realize my fingers are wrapped around his. Even worse, I’m clutching his hand against my chest … directly between my breasts.
I jerk away, dropping his hand like a hot coal.
He grabs my elbow and pulls me to my feet with a smile. “Don’t get shy on me now, DeVry. I’ve already seen it. Believe me, I’ve been remembering it well the last two nights.”
My skin warms under his appraisal, and I turn away from him. “You should go. I don’t want any part of whatever is going on. The party was too much for me. I’m done.”
“Are you?” Finn steps forward and drops his hand to my hip, his fingers curling around the waistband of my cotton boy shorts.
Butterflies swarm in my stomach, and I swallow against the nerves rising in my throat. “Dallas…,” I say softly.
His fingers tighten on my hip, digging into the soft flesh. “Stop pretending you know everything. You don’t understand anything.”
“Then teach me,” I say. I want to sound bold and defiant, to let him know I’m not a pushover.
But when I turn to face him, all of that goes out the window. He makes me feel… stuff.
Stuff that doesn’t make any sense.
I only realize how close we are standing when the tips of our noses touch. He is so close I have to choose which eye to focus on.
This close, I can see that his stormy blue eyes are ringed in turquoise and yellow, the two colors blending to green in the middle. They are beautiful.
Finn is looking back at me too, his gaze shifting from my eyes to my mouth and back again. He licks his lips and leans forward.
And, despite everything I know about him, despite every fear and thought I’ve had over the weekend, my eyes flutter closed and I lean towards him.
I feel the breath of his laugh on my face. “Lesson number one: don’t lie to yourself.”
Shame coils in my stomach like a snake. “About what?”
Finn’s fingers slide from my hip to the soft skin just below my belly button. Then, slowly, gently, they slide lower, dipping beneath the waistband of my panties and further still, until he is stroking my wet center.
“About what you want,” he breathes as he fingers the evidence of my arousal.
My body is a traitor. A horny, unforgivable traitor who has no concern for my thoughts or safety.
I grab Finn’s wrist, ready to pull him away and run out of the locker room in my bra and panties if that is what it takes.
But just as I do, his thumb brushes over my center, and I moan.
It is a deep, primal sound, and Finn grips my chin and brings his lips to mine, swallowing the noise with his kisses. His tongue dives into my mouth, searching, while his fingers do the same.
I’m so overwhelmed with sensation that I wrap my arms around his neck just to have something to hold onto, just to keep myself from sliding to the floor.
He slips two fingers into me and then another. There is no need for a slow pace. My body has thrown open the doors for him. I pick up one leg and wrap my ankle around his knee, giving him better access.
I feel Finn’s excitement against my thigh, and I want to see him. To feel him. I want something to wipe every thought from my mind, even if just for a few minutes. Even if it is just temporary.
But as soon as he realizes where my hand is headed, just like he did in his bedroom a few nights ago, he snatches my arm over my head and pins it against the wall.
His fingers curl inside of me, drawing out every possible sensation, and it isn’t long before I’m arching against him. Before my head falls back against the stall door, and I’m clenching his fingers while he nips at my neck and my collarbone.
“Hey, Finn!”
I jolt at the unknown male voice, but Finn isn’t surprised at all. He rolls his eyes. “Give me a second, Viktor.”
“I can’t keep watch forever. We have to get to practice.”
“Go away,” Finn barks.
The door closes, and the locker room is silent again.
The orgasm hasn’t even faded yet, and shame is already reclaiming its territory. My body is still
riding the last waves of pleasure, and I wish it would stop. I wish I could turn it off. The feeling now and whatever perverse feelings I have for Finn. I want to turn it all off.
“You came hard,” Finn murmurs, sliding his hand out of me and licking a line from the base of my neck to my earlobe.
I feel like a puppet. Like an object to be used and discarded at his discretion with no real thoughts or feelings of my own. That is how he must see me, too. He brought his friend along, planning what he was going to do to me before he ever walked into the locker room.
He steps away and lifts his shirt over his head, and I’m stuck for a minute, staring at the hard lines of his body. Admiring the shape of the boy who has brought me nothing but pleasure and torment.
“Keep your clothes on.” My voice is hoarse, and I turn away from him. “I’m not having sex with you.”
He laughs. “You think I want to have sex with you?”
I raise a brow and gesture to him, making sure to put special emphasis on his crotch, which is bulging out of his jeans. “Maybe I’m not the one in denial about what I want.”
“You think I want to have sex with you here?” he corrects. “While Viktor is shouting at me from the other side of the door?”
I stare at him. I’m supposed to be a conquest, right? What does he care where it happens or who is nearby? The idea that maybe this could be something more to Finn crosses my mind, but I swat it away.
Clearly, I don’t know what Finn really wants. Or what I want, for that matter.
Something like disappointment burns the back of my throat.
Finn gathers his shirt in his hands and steps towards me. I flinch away, but he pulls the collar of the shirt over my head in one deft movement, and then helps my arms into the sleeves like I’m a toddler. As soon as the material is covering me, he presses a finger into my stomach, right where the heat is building once again.
“When we have sex, we are going to have privacy,” he whispers, biting his lower lip. “And time. Lots of it.”
I should be horrified. I should tell him it is never going to happen, that I’ll never give myself to him.