He doesn’t. Instead, he kisses me. Maybe to punish me. Maybe to steal the words right out of my mouth.It doesn’t matter, because it’s the best, stupidest kiss of my life.For one split second, my body betrays me, leaning into it, then I remember I have pride. I shove him, hard, my palm flat against his chest.
“Don’t,” I breathe. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, his hands coming up in surrender. “I shouldn’t have?—”
“No,” I say, my voice shaking with rage. “You don’t get to decide when I shut up.”
He steps back.
“I’m going home,” I tell him.
I step around him and start walking before my legs give out, before I can think about the fact that I’m wearing his jeans, that my lips are still tingling, that I can still taste him.
Behind me, I hear him swear under his breath. I don’t turn around, but I hear him anyway, “Car’s to the left.”
I take a pissed-off step toward it when I hear Lou call after me, his voice a familiar, welcome splash of color in this grim landscape. “Sisk!”
I barely turn around, not wanting him to see my face.
“What the fuck are you doing here? I thought you said this place was for people who peak in high school?” he says, finally catching up. “The fuck you come here without me! And why are you wearing that?”
“I’m leaving,” I say quickly.
“Why? What happened, I just got here…” Lou’s gaze drifts past me, and his entire face lights up with a wicked grin. “Well, hello Mr. Boxers. Is this trade outfit a new kink I haven’t heard of?”
Jax, who’s been walking behind me like a silent, brooding security guard, finally speaks. “She decided pants were optional. I’m making sure she doesn’t forget again.”
Lou grins. “You two are something else. And on that note, pretty sure I saw your boy Ivan running out of here too.”
“What?” I ask, my head snapping up. “Ivan? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Think he saw the fun kiss and lost it. Kinda felt bad. Tripped over a cooler and everything. Looked like he was gonna cry.”
“I… I gotta go, Lou,” I say, my voice shaking. “I’m… we’ll talk tomorrow…”
I don’t wait for his goodbye. I just turn and walk faster than before.
“Only you could make those straight-leg jeans look like a fashion statement, bitch! Pitfire—boyfriend jeans. I just invented that!” Lou calls after me.
* * *
“How did it go last night?” Becca’s voice carries across the classroom while I’m still copying notes I won’t remember. I don’t say anything.
“I saw you getting into St. Clair’s car,” she pushes. “Whistle was pissed.”
A few heads turn, drawn by the scent of blood in the water.
“He gave me a ride home.”
“That’s generous,” Jason mutters behind me.
“That’s it?” Becca presses. “After you gave him that show? After he fought for your honor?”
“Guess Tar City finally has a patron saint,” Lisa adds, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “A knight in shining boxers.”
Her friends laugh.
I keep writing, my pen digging too hard into the paper, threatening to tear through the page.
