by L V Chase
“Don’t,” I say, a note of urgency in my voice. “Aurora. Please. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t mess with it.”
“Fine,” she says, holding the canvas up in the air. “I won’t touch your painting. But you have to do one thing. Just one thing.”
I take a step closer to her. Her friends circle closer around her, creating a human shield.
“What?” I ask.
“Tell Grayson that you have herpes.”
I stare at her, not sure if I should laugh. “The fuck? Why would I tell him that?”
“You said you’d do anything,” she says.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll do it. If anything, it’ll keep your asshole brother away from me.”
“Good. Do it. Now. He’s in the dining hall.”
If the sun is setting, it must be close to dinner time. Everyone else will be in the dining hall, too. Perfect. Another chance for everyone to laugh at my expense.
I keep my eyes on Aurora as I pass by. In any other circumstance, I’d hurt her so badly that she’d never be confident enough to come at me again. But she has the one thing that could give me everything I ever wanted. And she knows that because I already told her what I want. To be admired as an artist.
I gave her all of the ammo. I have no one to blame but myself.
17
Grayson
It's lunchtime, and the dining hall's noisy with chattering. Today’s pizza day, but the pizzas here have no grease, no gluten, no taste. I take three bites before I tap out. Some things just aren't meant to be upscale. Fake food, fake people. It's all the same.
Eric's picking at the fries on his tray. "I swear the food gets worse every year," he says before chucking one across the dining hall.
His aim is perfect. The fry hits some fucker right in between his glasses.
Eric pumps his fist and pushes his tray over to me. "Your turn. Who've you got?"
It's a stupid game that Eric likes to play, but I'm bored as hell. I eye the dining hall looking for a suitable target, when I spot Cin entering. Eric sees her, too.
"It's your lucky day, Gray," Eric says.
My eyes track Cin as she moves through the dining hall. She looks like she's searching for someone, which is strange, because she has no friends. And if she was trying to avoid me, she'd be hiding out in the art room instead of coming here.
A fry whips past her head, missing her by inches. I look to my right to find Eric grinning, another fry in his hand.
I give him a small nod. "Chill. I want to see what she's up to."
By now, Cin's spotted us. She marches over purposefully, like she's going to bitch at us or something. She has on a strappy white top with a purple bra on underneath. Her green eyes have that fire in them again. Oh, this is going to be good.
Cin walks up to us, but I take another bite from my tasteless pizza, ignoring her.
"I need to talk to you," she says.
I look up lazily as Eric snickers. The buzz in the dining hall's gone quieter. I can sense everyone watching.
I wave my slice of pizza at her. "Then, talk."
She shakes her head, her blonde-tipped hair shimmering as it glides over her pale shoulders. "Not here. Somewhere private with just the two of us."
Eric laughs into his fist. "Yo, she wants to jump you, Gray. She's a wild thing."
I raise an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'd be interested?"
Crimson creeps up her neck and cheeks. "No, I just need to talk."
I stand up and step around the end of the table to her side. "Is that right?" I take her by the waist and draw her to me. She's warm, soft, with a fresh, floral scent. She's so damn light in my hands. I barely had to use any strength to pull her close.
I bring my face close to hers. Her large green eyes fill my sight, until there's nothing else left. There's chatter in the background, but I barely notice. It's just me and her.
"This private enough?" I ask.
Cin's hands are up on my chest, like she was going to push me away, but she doesn't push. One hand clenches, then opens again. A tremor runs through her body.
She shuts her eyes. "Take me somewhere quiet," she whispers.
The fire's gone. It's like she's this wispy thing that just vanishes whenever I reach out and catch her. Like she can only fight if I step away.
So, I do. I back away, but I hold onto one hand. I lead her out of the dining hall and into one of the boy's bathrooms. It's empty.
"This private enough?" I glance towards the open stalls. "Or you want to lock yourself up with me?"
"No, this is fine." Cin stares at the floor and takes two deep breaths. Slowly, the fire fills her again. When she looks back at me, her eyes are hard and determined.
I lean against the wall and wait. Finally, Cin speaks.
"I have herpes."
I stare for a moment, not sure what to make of what she just said. So, I laugh.
"The fuck did that come from?" I shake my head.
"I don't know, I just have it!" Cin's not looking at me.
I stare at her for a second, then laugh even harder. "No, not where you got it. Oh shit.” I have to pause to take a breath from cracking up. “I mean what the fuck are you telling me this for? You plan on giving it to me?" I glance down below her waist, then back up at her.
"What? No!" Cin crosses her arms and brings her legs closer together.
I step towards her, and she retreats until she's in between two sinks, her back against the mirror that lines one wall. I move in closer.
"You know, just because you want to fuck me doesn't mean I feel the same way." I bend closer to inhale her scent, letting my breathe tickle her ear as I talk. "You can't stop thinking about me, can you? You want me. I know it."
Cin leans her head to the side, her mouth opens, and a soft moan escapes before she shuts her mouth again. I want her to give in to me. I want her to give it all to me. I want to devour her, but she raises her hand and pushes me away. I step back.
"I..." Cin goes quiet. "Just tell Aurora I did it, okay? Tell her I admitted I have herpes to you."
Aurora? She made Cin do this? What the fuck's going on between the two of them? Having Aurora butt her head into my business is started to get real damn annoying. Still, who says I can't turn this my way to have some more fun.
I cross my arms and nod. "Fine. You've got herpes."
Cin's shoulders drop. She looks relieved and disappointed at the same time.
"Prove it, and I'll leave," I say.
"What?" Cin's face scrunches up in confusion.
I motion towards her waist. "Drop those pants and panties. Show me what's inside. Prove it to me."
Cin looks like she's going to spit fire, then her face goes hard and strangely calm. Her hands drop to her pants. She undoes the button and pulls the zipper down so that the jeans are dropping a bit off her hips.
"Fine. But close your eyes and pull out your cock. I'm going to ride you raw and deep. Get that juice all over your cock. You can take a look afterwards and see if I was lying or not."
I stare. There's no way she's got herpes. This is just Aurora's bullshit, right? There's no fucking way. She has to be bluffing, she has to be. But I'm wondering how far she'll go. If you make a wager like that with me, I'm going to call it.
"Deal." I pull down my own zipper and reach for my cock.
Cin’s biting her lips as she watches, but before I pull anything out, she waves her hands frantically. "Stop. Nevermind!" She rezips herself and does the top button again.
I smirk as I pull my own zipper up. "You're in the deep end, girl. If you talk hard, you've got to back it up. See, I don't bullshit. When I make a threat, I back it up."
"I didn't make a threat," Cin says. "I…whatever."
"Doesn't matter. I could tell the whole school what you just told me. Tell them that you're a crazy nympho spreading herpes all over. I could tell them that you've been sleeping around since you were a kid, that you grew up in an orphanage that used to rent you
out. I could tell them whatever the fuck I want, and they'd believe me."
"That's ridiculous. None of that's even close to true."
I let it slide that she basically admitted she doesn't have herpes. "I could tell them that the only reason you're here is because you fucked your way through the admissions committee. That you're a klepto, a gold digger, a home wrecker. That you tried to kill your own parents. I could destroy you. You think it's bad how some of them treat you now? They might think you're not good enough, but wait until they see you as a real threat."
Cin’s scowling, but her eyes are rimmed with red. Maybe I went too far. I don't want her to hate me. No, that's not what I want. She tries to step past me, but I shift sideways to block her.
"Wait," I say. "I'll tell Aurora you did your part. But you have to do something for me."
She rolls her eyes. "Oh, what do I have to do now? Go fuck one of your friends, too?"
Damn, she really knows how to piss me off, but I'm try to reign it in. I'm trying to do something nice for her.
"Meet me for some lessons. I'll teach you how to fit in and stop being so...you know, you."
"Being me?"
"You want to climb the ladder. All of you scholarship girls do. I can teach you how to do that. How to be what a rich man wants, all proper and shit. Demure. That's the word."
"Oh really, you can do that?" Cin makes a face. "You can teach me how to kiss up properly like some rich fucker wants?"
I smile. "Sure. I'm rich. I would know."
Cin rolls her eyes. "And why would you want to do that?"
To give you a hand, you stubborn bitch. I fight the impulse to frown. Maybe it's because I know that what Dad's asking me to do is fucked up, even if I won't admit that to anyone else. Maybe it's my own way of making things right., because there's no way I'm handing her over to some sleazy, fat fuck.
But it's not like I'm going to let myself get trapped by some poor girl, either, not like Dad did. She won't be my Trisha. She'll be my charity case. I can set up her up with someone more suitable. Soften her up so some other rich kid will put a ring on her.
And I won't complain if I take a ride or two before handing her off. All the fun, none of the fuckery, and I won't even need to feel guilty about it afterwards.
"It's why you're here, aren't you?"
She starts to scowl.
"Besides the art, of course," I add. "Meet me at the willow tree after school. I'll tell Aurora about the state of your pussy."
Cin’s mouth puckers up and she tries not to laugh. "The willow tree?"
I know she likes that tree, that it means something special to her. "Yeah."
"Fine. Can I leave now?"
For my reply, I go to the bathroom door and hold it open for her. She goes out. I keep my eyes on her slim figure as she walks away, watching the taut jeans as they hug her ass.
She deserves better than Robert fucking Brady.
It's past three in the afternoon. The wind rustles the long vine-like branches of the willow, scattering the shadows. I'm standing, one hand on the rough bark, keeping an eye out for her.
I spot her, partially blocked by the weeping willow's branches, but the way she moves is easily recognizable. Everyone else has this lazy, cool walk, the girls trying to show their tits, and the guys either gawking or pretending they’re too cool to notice. But she always moves like she has something to do. It's out of place here, looking like you're trying to do something. I catch myself smiling as I plan our little lesson.
Something's wrong.
She stamps over to me and throws what looks like the broken remnants of a painting at my feet. Her eyes are brimming with tears.
"You fucking liar!" She rushes me, flailing as she tries to slap or claw my face.
I catch her wrists and hold them at a safe distance away, but she kicks at my shin. I catch her in a bear hug instead, holding her close so that she can't kick either. Her arms are wrapped around me, and she starts pounding on my back.
I barely feel her blows. All I can notice is the curves of her soft body trembling against me as she shouts.
"You fucking liar! I thought...I thought you might not be a complete asshole." She tries to pull my hair, but it's too short for her to get a decent grip.
I shift my hold on her, forcing her arms under mine, so that she can't attack me. I can already guess what happened. Aurora, the bitch, screwed Cin out of whatever agreement they had, which would explain the broken canvas on the ground. I wanted to push Cin, but this...this isn't right. Seeing her cry like this just leaves me with an empty feeling in my gut.
"Hold on." She looks so strong, but in my arms, she feels fragile, like if I squeezed too hard, she'd shatter. "Hold on!" I yell when she keeps struggling.
Cin finally holds still, although she's panting hard into my chest. Damn it, Cin. My right hand reaches for the back of her head. I hold her, gently, stroking her hair. I didn't mean to do that, but she doesn't try to break free or struggle. I drop both of my hands and let go.
"I kept my word. I told Aurora. I'll show you." I take my phone out of my pocket and scroll through the texts until I find it. I turn the phone towards her.
"See?" I say. "Right after you left, I texted her."
Fucking hell. I'm even more mad with Aurora for messing this up. Keeping a deal is the most basic part of business. Dad always says that.
Cin barely looks at my phone. "It doesn't matter." She bends to pick up the remnants of her painting.
I have the urge to reach out again and hold her, to tell her everything will be okay, but that's fucking stupid. I should find Aurora and tell her to fuck off, though. I'm starting to think that Dad had the right idea for her and her Trisha. As for Cin, she's here, isn't she? But I don't want her to think I'm going soft for her.
"You ready for your lesson?" I ask. "How about we start with your temper?"
Cin whirls about to face. "Fuck you. Fuck your sister. Fuck your whole fucking family. You're all the same."
Her eyes are tinged pink, but the fire's back. She stands up straight and smooths out her clothes, adjusts her hair. She stabs a finger at me.
"You're a big fucking asshole." She marches away.
I stare, then smile. That's the Cin I know. I should be mad that she's acting bitchy, but I'm not. If anything, I'm relieved. She's strong, stronger than anything Aurora can throw at her.
18
Cin
I’m back for one of Grayson’s so-called lessons. It’s a bad idea, but after a night of misery, I’m ready for even more punishment. Anything to take my mind off my dead painting.
“Business is all about having a hierarchy,” Grayson says, striding into the school’s kitchen. “You need one person, and only one person, in charge. That keeps things black and white for everyone else. You obey, or you get fired.”
“What if I tell you to go fuck yourself but still do what you ask?” I fiddle with a spatula. “Is that black or white enough, or should I make it more obvious what an insufferable prick you are?”
His hand comes so quickly, I can’t react before he has my jaw in his grip. He shoves me up against the industrial stove, the handle pushing into my back.
“You think you’re special?” he asks, crushing his body against mine.
Heat plumes up my body. I bow my head, trying to hide the redness in my face from him. He forces it back up, his fingers curling away from my jaw to concentrate on my chin.
“You think you’re the first trailer trash I’ve gotten under my thumb? You’re a dime a dozen, and I’ve bought more than enough to know even that’s too much for one of you.”
He releases my chin and pats my cheek.
“Don’t forget,” he says. “I could do so much more to you if was motivated. So, test me. Please. Make me mad. Make me motivated.”
“Just tell me what you want,” I say, hating the words as they come out, but this is about surviving, or really, adapting. If I’m thrown into the middle of the ocean, I’m not going to
flounder, searching for land. I’m going to dive deeper.
“Good girl,” he says. “Now, I’ll sit here. You’re going to come over and ask me if I’d like anything to drink.”
He pulls out one of the stools under the metal table. He sits there with one elbow on the counter, somehow looking like an angel of beauty and the patron saint of assholes at the same time. I hate him, but the overly hormonal parts of my body want to curl up against him. I hate that he does this to me. I desperately wish, as if it would be a kind of vengeance, that I would have the same effect on him, but he just gives me a cool, careless stare.
I walk over to him. I place my hand on his arm, letting it slide up to his shoulder. His eyes follow my movements and lift up to my face. I pull my hands away, twisting my fingers together in between us.
“Would you like something to drink?” I ask.
His arm swings forward, grabbing my wrist. He pulls me sharply in front of him. A flash of anger, of intensity, burns in his eyes.
“Not good enough,” he says. “You have to sell it. You have to convince me that you want nothing more than to serve me.”
“So, I should pretend that I’m asking for permission to punch your face?” I ask.
“If that’s what works,” he says. He releases my wrist. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Well, this is called social intelligence. Learn it.”
I take a deep breath. I rest my hand on his knee as I kneel down in front of him. His eyes flicker, tiny fireworks going off in them.
“Mr. Voss,” I say, my jaw flexing over his surname. “I would love—truly, fully enjoy—getting you a drink. What would you be interested in? Punch?”
He smirks. “Clever. And good.”
His words fall over me, a tiny thrill for my approval-starved brain. My phone interrupts with an incessant vibration. I pull it out. It’s a notification from Social Summit.
“Put that away,” he orders. “When you’re with me, no one else matters.”
I click on the notification. It’s a message from Aurora.