Wreck Me - An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by Lee Mae

  Chris shook his head. “She screwed you up bad.”

  “Maybe I should tell Leigh,” Nate said, once again tossing the football to his companion. “Maybe having the whole school know what a pathetic waste Dumps is will help you get over her.”

  “I don’t need help,” I ground out, putting my phone back in my pocket and standing up. “Not with Nikki at least. What I need is for you two to get the fuck out of my yard.”

  “What gives, man?” Chris said, his voice filling with anger. “You ignore us for Nikki, then when she dumps you, we welcome you back without question. Now you want to kick us to the curb again. You’re an asshole.”

  “Yeah. Don’t come crawling back to us again,” Nate snapped, “because as far as we’re concerned, you can burn in that dumpster fire on your own.”

  The two of them turned their backs and left, leaving me alone in the quiet of my backyard. Honestly, their departure made me feel nothing. But I was used to feeling nothing. I’d been numb since I broke up with Nicole.

  I couldn’t continue to hang out with her friends after our relationship ended, so I’d floated back into my old friend group. The bullies of Valley High didn’t seem to mind that I’d been MIA for a few weeks, and they continued their usual mean gossip and ridiculous pranks with me in the background as they had before. But my heart was not into their behavior, and I felt more and more alone, even though I was awash in a sea of people.

  It would be better to have no friends at all, I figured, then to hang out with people who continued to talk down about the woman I love, er, loved.

  I heard the sliding glass door open and swiveled my head around to look in its direction. My mother was carrying a tray out onto the patio, and she set it down on the wrought iron table in front of me. “How about a sandwich for lunch?”

  On the tray was not just a sandwich, but also an array of pickles, a pile of potato chips, and a glass of milk.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said, even though I didn’t feel hungry.

  “Where did your friends go? I was going to offer to make them sandwiches too.”

  “They left. And they aren’t really my friends.”

  “I see,” she said, taking a seat in the chair beside mine. She looked me over as I picked at the potato chips, not wanting her to think I didn’t appreciate the meal she’d prepared. “You know, these last couple weeks you haven’t been yourself.”

  “What do you mean?” I said, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite in the hopes that she might not expect me to answer while my mouth was full.

  “On the surface, nothing is different, but I’m your mother, so I can tell you’re unhappy. You give off little tells that add up to a big sad. What’s wrong?”

  I leaned back, chewing, and tried to determine the best way to say what had to be said. In the end, I just said what was in my heart. “I miss Nikki.”

  I knew admitting that was a risk, but it was also the truth. That night we’d discovered that Nikki’s father was the man who’d robbed Dad blind, my mother had melted down. She’d made it abundantly clear that Nikki wasn’t welcome anywhere near her. To tell her that I missed my ex might cause her to start to spiral, which is something I wanted to avoid at all costs.

  Still, it didn’t feel right to keep things from her. My father had kept his investment losses a secret, and that hadn’t turned out well, to put it mildly. I didn’t want my mother to ever have the experience of being blindsided by something major, nor did I want to deflect about why I was feeling the way I was feeling.

  Mom let out a big sigh, then picked a piece of invisible lint off her blouse. “I’m sorry that you feel that way, baby.” She looked off into the distance. “And I’m sorry about how I acted that night.”

  I could tell what she was about to say was going to be hard, so I reached over to take hold of her hand.

  She gave me a small smile, then took a moment to compose herself. “Losing your father was just such a shock. On that day, my entire future changed. The only plans I’d had was getting you out of the nest and growing old with your dad.” Tears filled her eyes as she continued. “My mind couldn’t comprehend that your father, the man I loved with all my heart, could have done this to me, to us. After his death, I looked for someone else to blame, anyone who wouldn’t tarnish the memory of the man I loved.”

  I realized that I’d done much the same at first. My dad was my best friend, and to think that he’d risk our future on some crazy investment scheme had hurt. It was easier to completely blame the person who’d led him down the road, who’d taken his money with a smile, with no intention of actually showing a return, than to admit my father had played any role in his own demise.

  “The night you brought Nikki home, I thought she was a nice girl, and I was happy to see you smitten with someone. You’d been too gloomy for too long.”

  “Pot calling kettle,” I said wryly.

  Mom chuckled. “I know, I know. But you’re young. You need to get out there and live your life. And Nikki was helping you do that.” She frowned, her eyes sad. “But then I found out who she was and well…I just couldn’t cope with the things she revealed.” Mom shook her head, and I could see the pain in her eyes. “To think that she’d been gallivanting around the world on our dime, it sickened me. We were burying your father, and her family was living it up in Beverly Hills. Resentment overwhelmed me.”

  “I understand, Mom.”

  I did. It was always disgusting to see cheaters prosper, especially when you were the one being cheated.

  “But I’ve had some time to reflect now, and I’ve realized some things. Nikki’s father was keeping things from her, just like your father was keeping things from us. The girl had probably never given a thought to where the money came from until it was gone. Now she’s living a very different life.”

  It was true. Now she rode the bus and had to scrape together money if she wanted to buy a hot lunch.

  “And her father is gone too. He’s still alive, but he’s not in her life. If anything, she likely never wants to see him again after such a huge betrayal. She lost her old home, her old friends, and her father. She’s been paying for crimes she didn’t commit for months. Maybe I shouldn’t add to that burden.”

  My eyes widened. “What are you saying, Mom?”

  “I shouldn’t have acted the way I did, and I won’t discourage you from seeing her.” She squeezed my hand and gave me a watery smile. “I have no right to punish her for something she didn’t do. And I don’t want to punish you either.”

  Her change of heart was surprising, and it threw me for a loop. Confusion filled me, as well as a spark of hope. I attempted to put it out, not wanting to give myself any room to start dreaming of something I knew wouldn’t work.

  She stood, then leaned in and hugged me. “All I want is for you to be happy,” she said, kissing my cheek before heading back into the house.

  I sat there, staring at the tray of food before me and thinking that I might never be hungry again. People always said they wanted you to be happy, but happiness wasn’t some kind of universal constant. Happiness was more like a complex equation, and math made my brain hurt.

  I scrubbed my face with my hands. I thought I’d made the only decision about our relationship and whether to end it, but every day I wondered if I’d made a mistake. It looked like today would be no different in that regard.

  22

  NIKKI

  TOMORROW WAS THE start of a new year, but all I could think about was the old one. So much had happened, so much pain and disappointment, that I couldn’t think of the future because I was still mired in the past.

  I stepped out of the shower and wiped the condensation off the mirror. I looked tired, which was ridiculous because during the winter break from school I’d been doing little more than eating and sleeping.

  And drinking.

  Drinking helped me sleep. It helped me forget. It was my new best friend. I’d already managed to drink my way through the expensive wines and cha
mpagne my mother had stashed. Which meant I’d resorted to asking someone to buy booze for me.

  That someone’s name was Ryan, and I’d met him a couple months back, on Halloween. I’d followed my friends to a party that night, and I’d seen him across the room, surrounded by high school kids. Ryan was obviously older, but he acted like an overgrown kid.

  He’d found me on the dance floor and flirted with me. Afterward, he’d offered me a drink and started chatting me up. After insisting on my texting him my number, he’d flashed his expensive watch and had bragged about his sports car, trying to impress me. His show-boating had only reminded me of the people I’d used to hang out with, so when Sam pulled me away from him, I’d been relieved. Ryan might have been cute, but there was something about him that gave me bad vibes.

  Of course, I’d ignored those vibes when I’d called him two days before Christmas. I’d made quick work of the stashed bottles, and Ryan was the only person I knew who was old enough to purchase liquor. After that night, I’d seen him once more to pick up a bottle. The second time, he told me about his New Year’s Eve party.

  “It’s going to be legendary,” he said, flashing his boyish smile. “And I’ll buy a bottle of the good stuff, just for you, boo.”

  “I don’t know,” I’d hemmed. “My mom is really strict about me staying out late.” Especially after our huge argument during Christmas. I’d really pissed her off and was walking a thin line.

  “You’re old enough to cut the apron strings,” he’d said. “Just come.”

  And now I was standing in front of my closet, trying to find an outfit to wear. The second bottle of liquor was empty. If I didn’t want to spend the next few days sober, I had to go to this party.

  My eyes went straight to the black section of my color-coded closet. It was the only section I’d worn since the day Zack threw me out of his house. I settled on a black sweater with a scoop neck and distressed designer jeans that fit like a second skin.

  I skipped putting on make and quickly ran a brush through my hair, leaving it down and unadorned. There really was no need to try and impress anyone. I was only going for the booze.

  Grabbing my denim jacket, the one Sam had modified, I headed into the living room. As usual, my mother wasn’t home. She’d been spending evenings with her new fiancé. She was so distracted I didn’t think she’d even noticed that I passed most of my time now in a booze-filled haze.

  Part of me understood what she was doing. She thought she was helping by finding a savior to take us out of our pitiful situation and restore us to our rightful socio-economic status. Although I wasn’t delighted by our circumstances, I was getting used to the life I was leading. Mom wasn’t.

  Maybe it was just too damn hard for her.

  She was the one forced to enter the workforce, after all, sometimes working sixty hours a week. She had to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads. It obviously hadn’t been easy.

  Did I really have the right to judge her when she was trying to pay the bills and keep our heads above water?

  So when her knight in shining armor came onto the scene, could I really blame her for eagerly accepting the role of damsel in distress?

  Some of us didn’t have the luxury of being that damsel. Some of us had no knights waiting to rescue of us. Some had to do for ourselves.

  And some of us no longer cared about anything.

  Putting on the jacket, and remembering the day Sam had altered it for me, I felt a moment of regret. My friends at Augustus, I realized now, were no better than a pack of wild dogs jostling for position, ready to tear each other apart at any sign of weakness. But the friends I’d made at Valley High were real friends, good friends. Friends that would stick by your side, lift you up and not tear you down.

  I’d since turned my back on those friends. They’d called, they’d texted, but I’d stayed silent. I knew they were probably hurt, but I felt like my hurt was more visceral, more than they could understand.

  They’d been fine before I arrived at Valley High, and they’d be fine once again. It wasn’t like I was unforgettable. Each of those lovely humans would go on to make a mark much bigger than I would. At this point, I’d be happy to be forgotten.

  The night was cool, and I was glad to have my jacket, even if it was filled with artistic holes. I’d received a Christmas card from an aunt on my father’s side, and fifty bucks had been tucked inside. That meant I had enough for an Uber to Ryan’s, which was good because I didn’t relish a late night ride on the bus, especially on New Year’s Eve.

  RYAN LIVED IN a run-down bungalow not far from Valley High. Every time I’d been there, which was twice, I’d seen a half dozen or more people hanging around, so I assumed he had roommates. Then again, maybe not.

  When I’d arrived to pick up the second bottle, Ryan had been in the middle of passing a rough looking dude a baggie full of white powder. The guy had slapped a wad of money in his hand then hurried out the door. Ryan had greeted me warmly after that, not saying anything about the transaction, but it certainly explained how a guy who didn’t seem to have any formal employment could afford the sports car and pricey watch.

  Tonight’s party was sketchier than any I’d attended before. When I reached the kitchen and noticed the line of booze bottles on the counter, I forgot all about my concerns. There were plenty of liquids I could pick to drown my sorrows in. I was pouring vodka into a red plastic cup when Ryan caught sight of me.

  “Hey, you came!” He ran up behind me, enfolding me in a tight hug that made me feel uncomfortable.

  “Hey. I’m here.”

  “What are you drinking?” he asked, his nose wrinkling. I shrugged, so he laughed and grabbed the red cup out of my hand. “No, this isn’t for you. I promised you a special bottle of your own, remember?”

  I nodded, and when he took my hand, I didn’t pull away.

  Ryan led me through a short hallway into the back of the house. Opening a door, he revealed what appeared to be a bedroom, if that name could be given to a room that had a mattress on the floor and a few piles of dirty clothing.

  He released my hand and hurried over to a closet that he pushed open. Bending down to dig around inside, he came out with a loud “Ah-ha!” brandishing a bottle that had been painted with an intricate design.

  “A buddy of mine works at an artisanal distillery, and he makes his own ‘special batches’ secretly. His last batch was the best yet.” Ryan passed the bottle over to me. “It’s all yours.”

  I screwed off the top, but it wasn’t machine-sealed. It was clear the bottle had been recycled, which was a little skeevy to me. But when I held the bottle up to my nose and took a whiff, I got the clear scent of alcohol, and the odor of something sweet and fruity.

  “Try it,” Ryan encouraged. “I finished a bottle of it myself last night. Mucho bueno.”

  I didn’t bother to correct his shitty Spanish. Instead, I held the bottle up to my lips and took a sip. It wasn’t bad, but I could tell it was strong. I figured I’d take a few sips at the party, and when I had a chance to sneak out, I’d head home and nurse the bottle for the rest of the week before school started again.

  “I’m glad you came,” Ryan said, putting his arm around my shoulder. “I’ve been trying to get you to hang out and see how much fun we could have.”

  “Thanks,” I said, stiffening up. “Shouldn’t we get back out there? I’m sure your guests are wondering where you are.”

  Ryan chuckled. “You’re right. Life of the party. Guilty as charged.” He didn’t remove his arm from around my shoulder, but we did make it back down the hallway and into the kitchen once more.

  “Ryan!” came a squeal from across the room, and then a cute blonde girl was launching herself into Ryan’s arms. I recognized her as a sophomore, and my stomach turned when I noticed Ryan cupping her ass in his hand. She couldn’t be any older than fifteen.

  As he greeted his guest, I used the opportunity to slink away. I moved to the edge of the kitchen whe
re I had a clear shot of the door. I was debating whether to try and snag another bottle of booze before making a run for it, but before I could decide, the front door opened and in walked Zack Modine.

  I froze, in no way prepared to see him tonight. He looked sexier than ever, dressed in skinny jeans and a death metal T-shirt. I shrank in on myself, trying to look as small as possible, but it didn’t work. He spotted me, and he scowled in my direction.

  Shit.

  Looking around desperately, I saw the back door and my avenue of escape. I rushed out it, landing in an overgrown backyard full of empty beer cans and bottles, some overturned lawn furniture, and a rickety wooden fence. I headed for the side of the house where I could see a gate. Presuming it must lead back around to the front and sweet freedom, I hustled to the gate, but when I tried to open it, I found it firmly locked, with no key to unlock it in sight.

  I backed away from the gate, considering trying to jump the fence, but I didn’t make my decision fast enough.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I turned to see Zack standing in the backyard, watching me. There goes my peaceful night.

  23

  Zack

  “WHAT ARE YOU doing here?” she replied, clearly not in the mood to justify her actions.

  I shrugged. “It’s a party.”

  I wouldn’t tell her that she was the reason I was here. I’d spent the time debating whether or not to show up to this party. I’d been to one at Ryan’s before, last year before my dad died. It had turned out too raucous for my tastes, ending with a full-on drunken brawl in the front yard and the cops being called. It was an open secret that Ryan sold drugs, and the endless stream of high school girls that went through his revolving door was pretty revolting.

  Which was why I was standing there right now. There was no way Ryan would miss a girl like Nicole. She was achingly beautiful, and the thoughts of that asshole’s hands on her made me feel close to exploding in rage.