Tainted Love

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Tainted Love Page 14

by Addison Moore


  “Heather!” Jennifer looks seriously affronted by this. “You always move too fast. Have you guys even said I love you yet?”

  “What’s love got to do with it?” I try to sing it, but it just sounds pathetic.

  “Ugh!” She squeezes her eyes shut a moment. “Never mind. Let’s get you in a costume, so we can get the heck out of here.”

  Apparently, Jennifer’s mother is a Halloween costume aficionado, or a hoarder of raunchy outfits in the least. She has an entire trunk of cheap dime store costumes for me to choose from, and thankfully, none of them contain a plastic mask to go along with them. We narrow it down to Electra Woman, her counterpart Dyna Girl, and Wonder Woman. The choice is an obvious one, and in no time flat I’ve donned the red and white striped boot covers and star spangled corset to become one of the world’s premiere woman crime fighters—my childhood idol and effigy on many an Underoos, Wonder Woman.

  We head out and drive down to the Helle house blaring the Go-Go’s “We Got the Beat.”

  And tonight, judging by our kick-ass costumes, our tightknit friendship that I hope transcends the next eight decades or so—yeah, we got it.

  “Cheryl Helle’s parents are like totally psycho.” I’m quick to deduce this because for one, there’s an entire row of dismembered dolls splattered with ketchup lining the entry. I’ve never been a fan of those molded human clones with their eerily lifelike eyes that blink like possessed little beings when you pick them up. Julie and Jill have an entire row of those plastic demons on their shelves. I swear it’s a ploy just to keep me out.

  Adam Ant’s “Strip” starts up, and instantly the three of us gyrate our hips.

  “I love this song!” Melissa cries. “I like so wanna dance.”

  “Boo!” A girl dressed as a slutty clown, if ever there was one, pops out from around the corner.

  “It’s just Amy.” I give her nose a honk. “Looking good.” I glance past her and survey the lay of the haunted landscape. My heart skips like a stone in anticipation of seeing Russell tonight, especially since Jennifer has all but given us her coital blessing once she baptized me with her slut sauce. Not really, but I’d like to think my best friends would support my decision to deflower myself yet again—this time with the right guy. My chest fills with heat at the thought of Russell being the right guy, the only guy. Who knows? If things continue to progress in the right direction, I might even find myself Mrs. Heather James one day. My entire body slaps with heat at the thought. That would be amazing. And I shake my head at how ridiculous I sound.

  “So, Peter’s coming down for Christmas break.” Amy does an odd little hop from side-to-side when she says it as if the thought had the power to fill her bladder to the brim.

  “Ohmigod!” Jennifer shakes her by the shoulders. “Peter is such a freaking great guy! I’m so like totally happy for you!”

  “Me, too,” Melissa and I chime in unison. Amy and Peter have had their ups and downs, but I love the fact they’re still together. They really give hope to the rest of us.

  “Yeah.” She shrugs. “And he’s bringing his new girlfriend with him.”

  “What?” I’m the first to balk at this madness. “God, he’s such a pig.”

  Jennifer and Melissa start in on a tirade of their own just as I spot Russell in the backyard with Joel by his side and a very naughty looking Cinderella shimmying her sparkling boobs at him.

  “I’ll be right back.” I head on out, good and pissed. “What do you think you’re doing?” I don’t hesitate pushing Amanda’s skank sparkling ass out of his way. Her makeup is done up in silver and blues, her eyebrows each their own strip of glitter as if she had an entire Hollywood makeup team come out and do her up, and, knowing the privileged princess, she so did.

  “Excuse me.” She cinches up her dress at the sides as if she would never stoop so low before shooting Russell a look. “Enjoy your street dunnage while you have her.” She takes off toward the crowd until she’s met up with screams and hugs from the Barbie sect because God knows they haven’t seen each other in like five solid minutes.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snarl at her as she jumps up and down to the music.

  “Who cares?” Russell pulls me in by the fingertips. “You look stunning.”

  “And you look pretty cool yourself. Van Halen concert goer?” I remember it from last year, and even then I thought it was pretty cool.

  “It’s my traditional look. But you”—he shakes his head in disbelief—“wow, I’ve always wanted to date an Amazonian warrior princess.” That dimpled grin of his goes off without warning, and every last part of me quivers. “Hello, Princess Diana of Themyscria.”

  I belt out a laugh. “It’s Diana Prince to you.”

  His arms find their way around my waist as he drops a kiss just below my ear.

  “All right, you two,” Joel teases. “Get a room, would you?”

  “Maybe we will,” I whisper into Russell’s ear, and he perks right back up.

  His brows furrow a moment before an approving lewd grin spreads across his face. “Are you gifted with any superhuman powers tonight?”

  I bite down hard on my lip, trying not to laugh. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

  “Ugh.” Melissa retches for effect. “Is this really happening?” It sounds more rhetorical than anything, so I don’t bother with a reply. But, yeah, I think this is like totally happening. That silly smile bounces back on my face.

  “I may have brought my lasso of truth.” I can’t take my eyes off this beautiful boy with his stunning blue eyes. The biggest truth around here is that I’ve fallen deep, hard, and fast in love with him.

  A slight gasp comes from me with the realization, and I cover my lips as if to keep those three little words from tumbling out.

  “Good.” Russell nods, pulling me even closer. His lips dip to my ear. “Because I happen to have a few truths I’d like to share with you later.”

  My body heats ten times hotter than it should ever be allowed. If boiling within my own skin is a possibility, then I might have just poached myself.

  The song comes to an end, and Amanda and her troop of loyal trollops head on over, each with a requisite wine cooler in hand. Amanda looks rather sloshed already, and with all the rejection she’s been putting up with lately, I sort of can’t blame her for drinking her troubles away.

  I groan as they inch their way over. “Too bad these gold cuffs around my wrists aren’t moron deflecting devices. They would really come in handy right about now.”

  Melissa breaks out in a snorting chortle as she steps by my side. I break loose from Russell in the event this lush version of Cinderella decides to engage me in another hair pulling contest. Word to the wise, I’m in it to win it. Bodacious Blondie here doesn’t stand a wasted chance.

  Amanda leans in hard, her eyes squinting to the point they’re closed. Wow, she really is tanked. “I spoke to your mommy.” She breaks out in a low growl of a giggle. “I know your stupid little secret.”

  Russell pulls me back as if protecting me.

  “No, it’s okay.” I know just what secret she’s talking about, and it infuriates me she’s dragged my poor—literally—sweet mother into whatever this is. It’s probably best I cut the rope she’s trying to hang me with. “Listen up, everybody, because I’m only going to say this once!” I shout over the music, and someone actually turns down “Thriller” to hear me out.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Russ whispers.

  “I do.” I clear my throat. “My mother scrubs toilets in her free time. If anyone has a problem with it, that’s too fucking bad! As you were.” The music picks up again, and no one really seems to care about my mother’s extracurricular buff and polish routine or whether or not it involves a shit bowl. “There.” I let out a sigh of serious relief. “You have anything you’d like to add? Because if not,” I wrap my arms around Russell, “my boyfriend and I really do need to find a room.”

  “Stupid slut. You do
n’t belong with him!” She stumbles backward as Tess and Rachel pry her from the scene. “You’ll be knocked up by prom!”

  A series of oohs and the word moded travel through the yard, as if I care. I’m not moded, that’s for sure. Amanda, however, has become a personification of the word.

  Jennifer shoots me a disapproving shake of the head. “You didn’t have to go there.” She says it so low I hardly heard it myself.

  She’s wrong. I did have to go there. Telling Amanda all the things she wanted to say to me first was my way of stripping her power. At least I’d like to think so. Besides, I don’t have a problem with what my mother does for a living because she’s an honest, hard worker. Just the thought of Amanda meeting my mother, speaking with her, makes me physically ill. Hey? From where would Amanda know my mother? Admiral Rusty’s? I suppose that’s possible, but then, why would she strike up a conversation with her waitress? Unless, of course, Mom is cleaning Amanda’s house now, too. The thought makes me twice as sick as before. Suddenly, her honest work feels dirty and more indentured servant-like than anything else.

  “Hey.” Russell blows a quick kiss into my ear. “Let’s get lost inside. I don’t want to give her another opportunity to spout her mouth off.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Russell leads me inside by the hand, and we thread through an entire sea of costumed bodies. “Saved by Zero” starts up, and The Fixx suddenly has me drunk off the gorgeous sound of their music.

  “I really love this song.” I pull Russell into the hall and take him in like this, so perfect, so very much mine. “Do you know you’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy?”

  He lets out a heavy breath over me, his dimples dipping in like twin black holes. “What’s that?” His lids are heavy, his eyes glossed over with want for me, and suddenly it feels as if this night, this simple proclamation, has the power to drug us both.

  “You’re sweet to me.” I land a kiss to his lips and drag him deeper down the hall. “You’re loyal to a fault. I love that I never have to worry about you cheating on me.” My lids close tight a moment. “I may not have cared all that deeply about the douche I was with before, but that pain”—a fist settles in my throat—“it was too much to bear. I don’t think I can ever go through something like that again. At least not without landing myself a homicide.” A faint laugh comes from me.

  “I’m so sorry you went through that.” He pulls a loose hair from my forehead. The look of anguish in his eyes seems so genuine I almost want to cry. I’ve never had anyone care so deeply for me before. This must be love. If it’s not, I don’t know what is. “I want you to know that we’re solid,” he assures. “I could never imagine putting you through something like that. I’d rather die than bring you one ounce of pain, I swear it.” He takes a playful bite from the bottom of my lip. “You mean more to me than you know.” He glances around before ushering us further down the corridor, opening one door and then another, only to find both rooms occupied with couples entwined in the dark.

  “Third time’s a charm.” He touches his nose to mine with that spreading grin of his taking over and opens the door to a small office, nothing but a desk and chair, some books on a shelf lining one wall. The light from outdoors bleeds in through a curtain glowing over an enormous window in the back. He pulls me in before butting the chair under the knob as insurance.

  “I don’t think a simple chair is enough to keep that witch away. You wouldn’t happen to have a bucket of water handy, would you?” I tease.

  Russell pushes out a soft smile before holding up his hands like a Boy Scout. “We don’t have to do anything. I just want us to be alone for a minute so I can tell you this in private.” His hands secure themselves around my waist, tight. Russell James looks deep into my eyes as if the next words out of his mouth might just be his last. His heart pounds over my chest as if we just ran a lap around the Hill.

  “I’m falling hard for you, Heather.” He gives an audible swallow, and I think it’s adorable as hell. “I think I’m in love with you.”

  Now it’s me with the audible swallow. My mouth falls open. Not once has a boy ever said that to me—not Slam for sure.

  “I’m in love with you, too.” My finger bounces over his lips as tears burn my vision. I’ve thought about what it might be like one day to say those words, to have someone say them back, but in all honesty, I had pictured us laughing at the park, me holding enough helium balloons to levitate me off the ground and him licking an ice cream cone. I suppose, in my juvenile mind, it would have been hard to picture us smashed against one another in an office the size of a thumbtack while a Halloween party raged around us—with me dressed as Wonder Woman no less. Although, I know for a fact, my juvenile self would totally approve of the Wonder Woman aspect—she would approve of everything.

  “I do love you, Russell James.” My lips cover his, and he lets out a groan that drips straight to the back of my throat. His tongue envelops my mouth and thoroughly explores every last nook and cranny that I have to offer. Russell’s breathing picks up as he lands me backward over the desk, and I take the weight of his body. My hands ride up his T-shirt. My fingers take their time exploring each ripple of his hard, marble-like frame. Russell James—Gates is a work of art—from his beautifully chiseled features, to his cobalt eyes—some might argue the artist used a touch too much blue—to his sculpted frame that should be replicated for all to see and touring the museums of the world. Dear God, they would have to sell tickets.

  The growing bulge in his jeans rubs hard over my thigh, and now it’s me moaning at the thought of what might happen next. Russell’s hands work the back of my corset, and when that doesn’t give, he simply pulls it down just enough for my boobs to pop out as if they were coming up for air. His mouth trails a heated line straight for my cleavage, and carefully he latches onto one with his hot, hungry kisses. My eyes settle on his dark hair just below my chin, and I lean down to sink a kiss over him.

  This moment, right here, is one I want to burn into my memory to revisit any time I like. My hands glide down to his jeans, but all I can reach is his firm, hard stomach—my fingers lingering on the happy trail of hair he has leading down to his—

  The door flies open, despite the chair’s best efforts, and a couple zooms in for a brief second before evicting themselves.

  “Sorry,” a familiar deep voice rumbles as the door closes again, then quickly reopens.

  Before I realize what’s happening, a pair of arms launches Russell into the wall, sending a mountain of books crumbling down.

  A girl screams, and I look over to find Veronica dressed like Princess Leia.

  “What the?” I quickly struggle to put myself back together while my brother, Kurt, continues to effectively kick the shit out of my new boyfriend. “Kurt! Stop it!” My voice shrills.

  Russell scoops him up and charges him into the opposing wall, and the curtain implodes just as they both crash through the window.

  “Oh shit!” Veronica gives a tiny yelp.

  The entire party comes to an abrupt halt as a crowd amasses around Russell and Kurt lying in a pool of broken glass.

  Russell

  “Have I taught you nothing?” Jessie Fox shakes his head at me in dismay. The disappointment in his face continues to mount as if this entire disaster could have been avoided upon heeding his warning.

  Jessie Fox and Joel stayed the night after a brief, yet productive trip to the emergency room. Nothing’s broken, no stitches needed, just a few butterfly bandages and some antiseptic over my wounds. Heather was hysterical. Turns out her brother is fine. It’s my back that took the brunt of the broken glass in the fall. I promised her I was okay and even drove her home—well, Joel technically drove my car while Jessie drove his, and that’s how the three of us ended up in my kitchen at an all too early hour. We crashed in the family room for a while, but my father insisted I get my ass in here to have a one-on-one regarding what happened last night. I simply dragged Joel in, and Jes
sie followed for moral support.

  “What do you mean ‘have I taught you nothing’?” I examine Jessie for a moment and wonder what kind of lessons Jessie Fox has ever bothered to teach me, at least on purpose.

  “You don’t mess with chicks that have psychotic brothers. There are too many fish in the sea. Swim in a different direction.”

  I reposition the bag of ice I’ve been nursing my face with and wince. “Dude, I’m into her. I don’t give a rip about Kurt or his guerrilla warfare tactics. He was just being a good brother. It’s in the handbook. You have to kick the ass of the guy you catch sucking on your sister’s tits. I’d go ballistic if that was my sister. I can’t blame the guy for what he did. And, also, last night cements the fact that Megan and most likely either of your sisters”—I nod to the two of them—“will never be allowed at one of Cheryl Helle’s Halloween parties. It’s freaking filled with animals.” A dull smile rides on my lips. “One of which I was.”

  “Look, Russ”—Joel shoves his face in his hands, lost in frustration—“things are getting real between you two. You’d better watch what you’re doing. Melissa is going to have my nuts in a vise if you break that girl’s heart. That’s her best friend. You can’t mess with my girl’s best friend.”

  Jessie gives a somber nod. “Another solid reason to dump her.”

  “Would you stop?” I elbow him in the gut. It’s no secret that Jessie is strictly opposed to having a monogamous commitment. “She’s my girl. This is serious. I told her how I felt last night, and she did the same. That’s when things got heated.”

  Joel moans as if he’s about to be sick, and Jessie shakes his head as if he’s on the same page.

  “Tell me you didn’t say I love you, then suck her boobs.” Joel closes his eyes as if resigned to this worst-case scenario.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what happened—and I don’t see what’s so bad about it.”

  “Are you an idiot?” Jessie bumps his knee to mine. “Even I know you don’t toss out the L word and expect to get lucky in the next five minutes. It’s a douche move. You got to let it quell, or the chick’s going to think it’s some demented game plan to nail her.”

 

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