Inside, my phone beeps with a new message. It’s a photograph of me flashing a smile a mile wide and Lachlan with his arm thrown around my shoulder, wearing an expression close to adoration as he stares at me.
I can remember the weight of his arm, heavier because the alcohol consumption ruined his balance, and he was already off kilter from raising his arm to snap the image.
“Kari made me take these down, but this is my favourite.”
It’s a wonderful photo. I zoom in closer on our faces, amazed how carefree I appear just hours after I came home to find my dad bleeding. The trauma of that moment pushed aside by the excitement of the clothes, the makeover, the fast car, the fancy art.
We look like a joyful couple, not a care in the world.
I don’t understand the point of him sending it to me. Is it a warning? A reminder?
It could be just what he says it is; a snap he’s sharing becausehe likes it. Out of the choices available that seems the least likely option.
Perhaps it’s just to point out he knows my number. The text equivalent of ‘I know where you live,’ a thought that reminds me he knows my address, too. My thumb slowly brushes over his face on the screen, astonished at how perfect he is. I can’t remember noticing last night, there were a thousand other things to look at.
Look at how pretty you are.
I click the phone off, shoving it in my pocket so hard it strains the seams, heat flushing my cheeks until they must be crimson. Whatever the point, whatever happened last night, it’s over.
Time to get back to the real world.
CHAPTER TEN
LOCK
Ten days later,my eyes follow George as she scuttles past, determined to get out of my line of sight before any repercussions follow. Such an obedient girl, it makes my prick stir.
She meets up with a guy, another student new to the school this year. He tried out for the rugby team, but coach abruptly abandoned it. Not because he wasn’t good but because there was some messy incident at his last school.
Messy enough to land him here. Locked up tight with all the other rich kids whose parents want somebody to monitor them. Anybody, just so long as the task doesn’t fall to them.
They’re friends. So what?
He puts a hand on the small of her back as they turn the corner and my vision clouds with red. That’s taking a fucking liberty for a friend.
My hands curl into fists, staring at the spot where theydisappeared from view for far too long, gory images dancing in my brain.
“Lock?” Kari slaps my leg. “I asked for the soda.”
I grab it from the seat beside me and pass it over, trying to force my attention back where it should be. After our brief hiatus, Kari and I are back together. Who knew a few posts could inspire such a level of devotion?
In the days since, she hasn’t left me alone. I can see her claws lengthening whenever George appears in view—thankfully something she does so infrequently that she must be doing her best to stay out of our way.
For my part, I sling my arm over her like Kari’s a precious possession. Enough for anyone to see that we’re a couple. That’s all it is. A performance for other people to see.
I don’t mind the posturing. I’m even hopeful enough of it makes it through to my father for him to keep off my back at our next scheduled visit. Not that there are any of those clouds looming on the horizon.
Behind the scenes, Kari made a few other overtures. Something about a day surgery repair that can make her appear intact, even if she’s not.
The whole thing makes me grateful not to be female while also giving me the ick so bad, I’ve turned aside all her private advances. Even when she offered to blow me again on the regular.
I don’t want her well-practised hands touching me, her mouth just going through the motions to get it done, get it over with.
None of that is what I desire.
I crave genuine interaction. A girl who touches me with spontaneity, crushes the bones in my hand to paste she holds onthat tightly, who makes me feel like I’m the only person tethering her to the world.
To placate her, I told Kari it doesn’t matter. I’m happy to wait. Whatever blah blah blah she needed to hear out of my mouth before she backed off, content that even if I wasn’t getting it with her, I’m also not getting it elsewhere.
