Turning on my heels, I race from the house and down the street. I don’t bother knocking on her front door, it’ll only alert her parents. They know full well that things went south between us, so there’s no way they’d allow me inside at this time of night, even if they are up.
Instead, I walk around the side of the house and across the grass. I’d always wanted to try climbing up here, but there was only one time I actually attempted it. I’m fairly sure after the kiss it led to that if things didn’t play out the way they did, I’d have done it time and again if it meant I got another taste of her.
Memories of that night threaten to bubble up, but I do my best to swallow them down. I don’t need to remember the sad look in her eyes as she stared up at me that evening. I felt terrible. It was totally my fault that she was late home and ended up in trouble. I was being selfish and didn’t want to let her go. It broke my heart to hear her getting laid into by her parents for breaking curfew. When her first sob sounded out through the barrier of the front door, I knew I couldn’t leave her. I made my way around to this trellis, I gave it a tug, much like I do right now to ensure it’s secure, and I pulled myself all the way to the top so I was able to climb into her open window. A window that was always damn open. I’d warned her about it before, knowing how badly I wanted to climb up meant others would too, but she never shut the fucking thing. It was almost as if she was inviting me to join her. That’s what my fourteen-year-old hormone filled body imagined, anyway.
Opening her window wider, I throw my leg over like I’ve done this a million times and silently slip into her room.
The only sound I can hear is that of my heavy breathing, and it’s not until I poke my head out from behind the curtain what I realize why. She’s scared of sleeping alone in the dark. My heart threatens to pound out of my chest as I run my eyes up the bump in her sheets until I find her dark hair that’s fanned out on her pillow.
Walking over, I allow myself a second or two to look at her peaceful, sleeping face and imagine things weren’t so fucked up. That the last time I was in this room was the beginning of something incredible, when in reality it was the end of everything I’d known. The events of the weeks following that night will forever be burned into my mind as the worst weeks of my life, and although Camila didn’t personally have a hand in it, it was the actions of her dad that threw both mine and my little brothers’ lives into meltdown. Charlie was only a baby, Oliver not much more; neither of them deserved to lose not only their father but practically their mother as well.
Thoughts of that time ignites a fire in my belly and reminds me why I’m here.
Finding a glass of water sitting beside her bed, I pick it up and raise it above her head.
My hand trembles slightly as I tip it, but the sight of the small stream of water pouring over the edge mesmerizes me enough to continue.
“Argh, what the fu—Mason?” Her eyes are wide as she sits up and pushes my arm away with so much force that the glass and the remainder of the contents crash to the floor. “What the fuck is your fucking problem?” She scrambles from the bed, wiping at her wet face, and stands tall in front of me. I want to laugh at her attempt to square up to me—like she’d be able to win anything with her tiny size. My eyes drop from the fire lighting her usually dark ones in favor of her body, and the moment I do, any amusement falls from my lips.
Fuck. She’s standing before me in a ruby red satin cami and tiny short set. The top is twisted around her body, her left breast all but falling from behind the fabric.
My eyes lock on to that smooth, porcelain bit of skin. How easy would it be to reach out and expose the rest, to be able to get just one look at the body that’s featured in so many of my dirty teenage dreams? My temperature soars and my cock begins to swell inside my pants at the thought of how perfect her pink nipple is bound to be. I wonder if it tastes as sweet as I always hoped, or sour like I’d be tasting a rotten piece of fruit?
“Why the fuck are you here?” She tries again, her hands going to her hips, sadly dislodging the fabric and allowing it to fall back into place.
“I’m…” Standing in front of her dressed as she is seems to have zapped my brain. I fight to remember why the hell I’m here, but I come up short. My only thoughts are of her and how quickly I could get that satin on her bedroom floor.
No. You can’t have her.
My sudden realization drags tonight’s events to the forefront of my mind and reminds me why the hell I am here.
I take a step forward. “You look like you were expecting company, dressed in this sexy little outfit.” Lifting my hand, I run my fingers along the soft scrap of fabric resting on her shoulder. Her shoulders tense at my contact, but I don’t miss how her nipples pebble behind the satin. “Did he stand you up? He’s probably got better company. I hear Tasha is a stellar lay.”
Her arm flies out, but before her palm connects with my cheek, I wrap my fingers around her wrist. I trained my entire life to catch that vital ball, I’m not going to miss her arm.
Her eyes harden and her teeth grind.
“Get out of my fucking bedroom.”
“Why? Don’t you want to give him a taste of his own medicine? He seems to be more than happy playing away. Maybe you should see what the fuss is all about.” I tug her arm. She tries to fight, but she’s no match for me and I get my way. Her soft breasts press against my chest and I all but moan out loud at the sensation it causes within my body.
Dropping my head, I brush my lips against her ear. “We could even send him some evidence if you like. Really hit him where it hurts.”
“Fuck you.” Her knee lifts, but I’m expecting it and jump back before she makes any contact.
“You’re going to regret that.”
“Am I?” She rolls her eyes before reaching for the hoodie that’s hanging over the back of her chair and wrapping it around herself. I’m not ashamed to admit that it’s a damn shame to hide that banging little body away.
“Are you always this clueless? Your boyfriend’s banging a cheerslut and here you are, letting him get away with it.”
“He’s not. Fuck.” She shoves her hands into her hair, pulling it away from her face and allowing the hoodie to fall open. My eyes have a mind of their own and once again drop in favor of her curves. “I’m not talking about this with you. It’s none of your fucking business. You gave up any right to have an opinion on my life years ago. Now do me a fucking favor and get the hell out.” She gestures toward the window with her outstretched arm and widens her eyes in impatience.
“Don’t I fucking know it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Listen, what you saw tonight. I need you to keep it locked.”
She laughs, actually laughs in my face. “Hang on, let me get this right. You’ve broken into my bedroom, thrown water over me, harassed me, told me I’m an idiot, and all because you need a favor. Fuck you, Mason. Fuck. You.”
“First, it’s not breaking in if the window is open.” Her eyebrow quirks, but I don’t give her a chance to argue. “Second, I’m only telling the truth. Not my fault if you choose not to believe me.”
“And third?”
“Third. I just... I just... I need it kept quiet. No one else needs to know about my life.”
“You’ve got a job, so what? You’re not the only one out earning a bit of their own cash.”
“It’s…” Her eyes bore into mine as if she’s trying to read my mind, and for a second I’m worried she might just be able to. We were always on the same wavelength. We’d finish each other’s sentences, blurt out the same ridiculous idea simultaneously. It only makes sense that she can see right through my bullshit. “You’re right. No biggie. I just wanted to sneak in to try my luck. I mean, if your boyfriend’s out getting his dick wet then there’s no harm in me doing the same.”
Her face damn near turns purple with anger. “Get the hell out of my room, Mason, before I scream for my parents.”
; It’s an empty threat. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t bring that kind of drama down on either of us, but just in case I’m wrong, I take a step toward the window.
“I’ll see you soon, Cami-bear. And if you’re still dressed like that, then even better.” I wink, allow myself one last trip around her body despite the fact she’s now pulled the hoodie around herself as tight as it’ll go, and climb from the window.
I let go when I’m halfway down the trellis and jump to the grass. Her burning stare tingles down my spine as I make the short walk back to my house, but I refuse to turn around. That is, until I know I’m about to disappear from her sight. Then I turn and face her window. Just as I suspected, her face is tucked between the curtains, watching me. Once she realizes I’ve caught her and the fabric falls in front of her face, ending our connection. I can’t help laughing as I let myself back inside.
I might not have got what I went over there for, but I left with much more. If this morning in the girls’ bathroom wasn’t evidence enough, then tonight was: if I were to so much as drop my lips while I was touching her then she’d cave to me.
9
Camila
After securing the window and changing my pillow for a dry one, I have the worst night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time. I know that shutting the window doesn’t change the size of my room, but the second I pull it closed, I can’t help feeling claustrophobic and like the walls are closing in on me. It’s crazy, I know, but I guess it’s true what they say: fears are irrational. I feel like I can’t breathe without that small amount of fresh air flowing in, and I hate him for it.
When I do manage to fall asleep, it’s only two hours before I need to be up for school, and when my alarm goes off, I’m in a bitch of a mood.
The second I push through the doors into school, I see him. He’s standing at his locker, which is unfortunately directly opposite mine, as Chelsea and a couple of her sluts surround him. One of them runs their fingers down his arm while Chelsea presses her palm against his chest, laughing at whatever he just said. I throw up a little in my mouth at the sight.
I don’t take two steps when my skin starts tingling with awareness. I don’t want to look up at him. I want to ignore him and show him that I’m indifferent to his attention. Sadly for me, but although my brain might want this, it seems my body has other ideas because as I come to a stop in front of my own locker, my head twists and I find myself locked in his dark stare. His blonde hair is falling over his face where he’s bent down attempting to look interested in what the girls are saying, but they don’t have his eyes. They’re firmly burning into me.
Even with the distance between us I can see how incredibly dark they are. A shudder runs down my spine as I’m transported back to last night when he stared down at me with such intensity. I couldn’t help but think he was about to devour me, and in that moment, just for a second, part of me wished he would.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Noah sings, coming to a stop beside me and wrapping his arm around my waist. I freeze and he notices. “You okay?”
My eyes betray me and flick over to Mason, who I find staring daggers at the back of Noah’s head. His words from last night slam into me.
“Are you always this clueless? Your boyfriend’s banging a cheerslut and here you are letting him get away with it.”
Looking back into Noah’s kind eyes, he smiles at me, clearly concerned with where my head’s at this morning. Reaching out, his fingers twist around a lock of my loose hair and he leans in toward me.
“Missed you last night,” he murmurs against my lips before pressing them against mine.
I don’t kiss him back immediately like I usually would, and he soon notices. He pulls away, and I panic. Lifting my hand, I wrap it around the back of his neck and pull him down to me. The last thing I need is him questioning my resistance. It’s not his fault that Mason’s lies are on repeat in my head. Because that’s what they are... lies, right?
Fuck, I hate this. I trust Noah one hundred percent, and that asshole is making me question everything. If he’d told me these things about a boyfriend four years ago, I’d have dropped them like a stone, but Mason’s been nothing but a pain in my ass all this time, trying to ruin my life for something I had zero control over. So why I’m giving his accusations head space I have no idea.
When Noah’s tongue slips between my lips, I move mine to join it. His kiss is the same as always, but I can’t help but feel something’s changed.
When he eventually lets me up for air, his eyes are heated, his eyelids slightly lowered, and an excited smile plays on his lips.
My stomach drops. I never told him about my plans to lose my virginity on his birthday night, but I had told him that it would happen soon. He’s been the perfect gentleman waiting for me. I know many teenage boys who wouldn’t have been so patient, but I also feel like it’s starting to wear thin. We’ve done... stuff. Or more so, I’ve done stuff. He hasn’t got past the odd hand roam with me. I knew that once things started getting too serious, it was likely to go from zero to one hundred in the blink of an eye. I don’t know why I’ve been holding off, it’s not like everyone around us isn’t doing it. But, I don’t know. Something just hasn’t felt quite right.
I stare off over his shoulder as my mind races with all these crazy thoughts, but I’m soon pulled from my misery when I lock with that pair of brown eyes. Only it’s different this time. The girls have gone, leaving Mason standing alone, and the way he’s staring at me, he looks kind of vulnerable. It’s unnerving and not a look I’ve seen on him for a very, very long time.
“You coming to my house after school?” Noah asks, pulling my attention back to him.
“I’m sorry, I can’t tonight. I promised my parents that I’d be home. They’ve got some drama they need to talk to me about.”
“Is everything okay?” he asks, genuinely concerned.
“I have no idea. They looked a little stressed last night, but I didn’t have time to chat. I still hadn’t finished that English assignment.”
“Still? I thought you were planning on finishing it over the weekend?”
Yeah, I was, but then Mason beat the shit out of you and I was left with my head spinning out of control. I don’t want to admit that though. Instead I go with, “I ran out of time.”
“That sucks. Maybe tomorrow then?”
“Yeah maybe.” Turning away from him, I open my locker and switch out some books from my bag, ready for the day.
Noah seems to get the idea that we’re done, and after a quick kiss on the cheek and an ‘I’ll see you later,’ he turns and heads off in the direction of his own locker.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and stare at the picture that’s pinned to the back of my locker. It’s of Noah, Shane, Amalie and me at Dash earlier in the year. Noah’s standing behind me with his arms around my waist, a huge smile on his face as he stares down at me and not at the camera like everyone else. A smile twitches at my lips, but it’s not enough to put to rest the confusion swirling around my head.
I give myself a talking to and swing the door shut. What I’m not expecting when I turn and take a step in the direction of my first class is to find Mason still watching me from his side of the hallway.
Anger surges through me and I turn toward him.
“What? What is your fucking problem? Breaking and entering and scaring the shit out of me not enough? You’ve got to be a creepy stalker too?”
His lips thin and his jaw ticks with frustration. “Just watching you fuck your life up.”
“Don’t you have your own life to lead? Why are you so interested in mine all of a sudden?”
I didn’t think it was possible, but his features harden even more at my words.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got enough of my own bullshit without adding yours to it.”
I’m silent for a few seconds, trying to figure out if there’s some secret message I’m supposed to pick up in those few words, before I decide to be the
adult in the situation and walk away.
“That’s it, run away from what’s right in front of you.”
My spine stiffens as his parting words settle into my body, and I fight myself not to react further. He doesn’t need to know his words affect me.
I only get a few minutes of relief because it feels like only moments after having sat in my seat and pulled my books out that he joins me in our chemistry class. I keep my eyes down, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel his stare burning into the top of my head as he passes to take his seat at the back of the room.
By the time it gets to my AP English class before lunch, I’m starving and can barely keep my eyes open. I hand my assignment in that I finished sometime before midnight last night, only to be handed another.
“The title of the piece is to be Against All Odds.” Miss Phillips points to where she’s written it on the board before fully explaining that she wants a piece of creative writing in any form we wish to convey that title.
I’m so tired that my mind fails to come up with a single idea and I panic that he’s going to have ruined my creativity as well as my night’s sleep.
Writing the task in my diary, I pray the clock will tick around so that I can eat.
If I had the energy, I might cheer with delight when the lunchtime bell rings out through the school. I rush to pack up my stuff and leave the room as fast as my legs will carry me, hoping to get a spot at the front of the line.
I practically inhale my burger and fries once I’ve placed them on our usual table. I’m over half done before I sense someone coming to join me. Glancing over my shoulder, I find Shane making his way over.
“Hey stranger. How’s it going?” I mumble around a mouthful of fries.
“It’s... going.” He lowers his tray and himself to the bench opposite me, blowing out a huge breath.
“You still moping about what happened at your party? We all know it wasn’t you, you don’t need to sweat it.”
PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2 Page 5