Authors: Linda Oaks
"Are you sleepy?" he asked, his body shifting down onto the bed, and his muscles clenched beneath my hands. He grabbed another pillow to shove behind him. His warm breath caressed my skin when he leaned forward, his lips brushed my cheek before he settled back against the pillows.
"This is nice," he said.
I raised my head from his chest and gazed up at him.
"I like spending time with you, Addie. I find myself liking it just a little too much."
"That's impossible," I told him, and his lips quirked into a half-way smile. "You can never like something too much."
"Says who?" he asked, his eyes studying my face.
"My sister," I replied, thinking of the first time Nate had asked her out on a date. At the level of her excitement when she had come home that night singing his praises, I had told her that maybe she liked this guy just a little bit too much. Tears picked my eyes, and I felt Chance's finger brush against my cheek. "Natalie always said when you love someone you love them with your whole heart. You don't get to choose which bit or piece of yourself that you give away. You might end up with a broken heart, but at least you know that you gave it your all."
"I think, I would have liked your sister," Chance said, and a tear seeped from the corner of my eye trickling down my cheek at the kindness in his voice. He brushed it away.
I smiled at him through my tears. "I think she would have liked you too," I told him. He grinned, leaned forward and I raised my head so he could press his lips against mine. It was a gentle, sweet kiss.
"What about your parents?" I asked the second his mouth left mine, and he sighed, lifting his hand to rub his fingers along his forehead. The smile on his face disappearing before my eyes. "My mom died when Chase and I were thirteen," he explained, a faraway look in his eyes. "She used to bake the best damn chocolate chip cookies. I miss that." he said, trying to smile but he failed miserably.
"I'm sorry."
His mouth tensed at my words and he laughed. "Not as sorry as I was. My dad is a piece of shit, a loud-mouth drunk. He screwed up at his job, and that's how we ended up in Crawley." His face tightened with anger.
Despite his fierce expression, I slid my hands from his chest and squeezed him in a hug.
His chest rose and fell beneath my ear. His warm breath feathered my forehead. He sighed, squeezing me back. "He used to be the best man I ever knew, and then everything went to shit after Mom died. He just didn't care anymore. That's the reason Chase is the way that he is. You need to stay away from him Addie. Everything is a joke to him. He doesn't care about anyone not even himself. Fucked up, fucker," he muttered absently growing quiet as if he'd realized he had revealed too much.
Feeling the tenseness of his coiled muscles beneath mine, I decided to change the subject. No more painful reminders of the past. Tonight was about us, and I didn't want to talk about anything that would make that hurt angry expression reappear on his handsome face. I didn't want to spoil our time together.
"So," I said and raised myself up on my forearms shyly smiling at him. "How many girls have you known that didn't like pink?"
That night we'd lain in bed, spooned against one another and talked for hours, just about random things that really didn't matter, but my mind had been so drunk on Chance and his earlier words about his home life that it had made it almost impossible to fall asleep.
For the longest time, I'd watched him sleep. Long dark lashes rested against his high cheekbones. Last night, Chance had buried his face against my neck and murmured silly things in my ear making me laugh. I had only guessed as to where his playfulness would lead, but I should have known. I pressed my finger against my lips, surprised not to find them puffy and swollen from his kisses. I'd never seen that side of Chance before. That cocky arrogant boy from school had taken a back seat to the funny, tender guy who had opened up to me and had spent the night in my bed. The guy who was slowly but surely stealing my heart.
One sculpted arm lay curled along the side of his head. A tattoo of a black raven ran along the length of his right side, starting at his armpit and ending at the top of his prominent hipbone. His toned chest was dusted with dark hair that ran in a V to disappear beneath the waistband of his jeans. In the early morning sunlight intruding through the sheer curtains of my bedroom window, his burnished skin glistened.
The urge to touch him was consuming me. I wanted to so badly that I had to curl my fingers into my palms just to resist the temptation. His hand was fisted in my shirt, as though even in sleep he felt the need to hold onto me.
I'd awakened long before the annoying blare of the alarm clock, and leaned over the side of the bed to shut the damn thing off. Chance didn't stir. His chest rose and fell in an even but deep sleep. My ratty yellow blanket lay pooled around his waist. It was such a contrast to his masculine perfection. He was sleeping soundly, and I didn't have the heart to wake him. The sight of Chance vulnerable in sleep touched something deep inside of me. I could fall hard for him.
For some reason, he'd asked me to sleep in his shirt, and I had agreed. When he smiled at me, it was hard to deny him anything. I'd slept in my pajama bottoms, forgoing my usual attire of just a t-shirt and panties since I didn't want Chance to see my scars. The thought of having to explain those to him now when it seemed we were both actually on the same page, made my stomach churn. I didn't want to scare him off nor did I want to see the pity or the disgust which I was certain would be reflected in his stunning eyes if he saw my scars; if he knew my secret.
The clock beside the bed read 6:20. If I was going to make it to class on time, I had to get moving. I was prolonging the inevitable. I stared at him taking in every strong, sleek, smooth line of his body. I could smell his scent all over me and as tempting as he was I had to get going or I was going to be late for school.
I slid around to sit my feet on the hardwood floor. Then, I heard a sound and froze. I thought he murmured my name, and glanced over my shoulder and saw that he was still sound asleep. So I padded across the room to my opened closet and grabbed the first thing I could find; a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt and headed for the bathroom.
After a quick shower and my usual morning routine, I found myself unable to resist him and ended up standing once again back by my bed watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful, and as much as I wanted to crawl into bed beside him, I couldn't. The clock now read 7:30. I had to go, so I turned for the door and stole one last glance at him before heading downstairs.
In the kitchen, I found a pen and notepad in my mom's junk drawer. I wrote Chance a quick note and signed my name with X's and O's; briefly explaining that I'd miss him and hoped to see him later. I grabbed my wristlet and phone from the kitchen table. No new messages nor was there any on the answering machine in the living room, but this morning, I didn't care.
As I walked down the front porch steps, I couldn't help but stare at Chance's black pickup truck sitting in the driveway. I liked having him around. He'd invaded my space, destroying my reservations and calming my insecurities.
I had it bad
; I thought with a smile and walked toward my Jetta, my mind filled….. with thoughts of him. I shook my head in disgust, grinning like an idiot. I was happy.
During the drive to school, I'd been so distracted that I hadn't even bothered to turn on my radio. I arrived five minutes early and found a parking spot near the back of the lot. As I stared out across the sea of cars and trucks, I searched for Brandon's Camry; he and Kara hadn't made it in yet.
When I walked across the parking lot I passed a couple of guys, who shot leering grins in my direction. It was downright creepy and strange. Blowing them off, I made my way up the steps and entered the building. I passed a group of girls and heard one of them say, "There she is." I looked around and couldn't figure out who they were talking about. Bitches.
Whispers of "slut" and "whore" followed me as I walked past different groups of girls. The center of my back began to itch. It was one of those feelings like something was crawling there. Bryce and a couple of football players passed me, one of them smirked and the other said something that I couldn't make out which caused Bryce to chuckle. What the hell was going on? A glance at the hallway clock told me that I still had just enough time to stop by my locker before class began, so I quickened my pace.
At the top of the stairs, the crowd before me seemed to magically part. A sense of extreme self-consciousness crept over me when I noticed everyone looking at me. I didn't understand what I could have done to warrant so much attention, unless this was about the fight that had happened the day before. I kept focused, trying to ignore the whispering voices around me rumbling like thunder in my head. When I got to my locker, everyone laughed. Someone had taped a sign to my locker door that read,
Call Addie for a good time.
There were at least twenty phone numbers written on yellow post it notes sticking to the outside of my locker door. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I forced myself not to cry. They were all watching, and I wouldn't give a single one of them the satisfaction of seeing me breakdown.
I opened the locker door ignoring them all but when I reached for my English book, I heard a familiar voice say, "Now, everyone knows exactly how big of a slut you really are."
Miley. My day had just started and already it sucked! I glanced over my shoulder. She and Mia were standing on the other side of my locker like Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Miley looked at me, her lip curled, showing open disgust. "You just had to have them both, didn't you?" she snarled. "Greedy bitch."
Before I could stop myself, I slammed the locker door and clicked my lock into place. I forced myself to smile into her sneering face. "Jealous?" I taunted.
Snickers and laughs rose from the crowd gathering around us.
"You were with Chance last night," she accused loudly, her eyes shooting sparks. "You were with his brother yesterday morning. So, you tell me just exactly what that makes you?"
"Late for class," I suggested, distantly hearing the first peal of the bell ring.
Everyone scattered. Many were already walking away ignoring the drama that had unfolded. I brushed past Miley, knowing if she so much as touched me I'd rip her hair out. It wasn't any of her business who I saw or whom I slept with. I wanted to turn around and be just as petty and as mean as the two of them and rat out Bryce for propositioning me over the summer, but I didn't. They were just two jealous, catty bitches.
Pausing outside Mr. Shilon's room, I tried to remain calm and drew in a deep breath before going in. Unfortunately, Mia and Miley were right behind me. "She's so ugly. I don't understand what they see in her."
"She must have a golden snatch," Bryce piped up, and then all three broke into snickers and giggles.
I didn't turn around, but half of the class had already heard his crude remark and were watching us. My cheeks were on fire. Mr. Shilon shot us a nasty look, and I suspected we were on the verge of getting an afterschool detention. Just as he began taking roll, I slid into the first seat that I saw and only glanced up when Kara came rushing through the door looking winded.
"It's so nice of you to join us, Miss Thorn," he said sarcastically, then went back to calling off names without missing a beat or giving her a chance to explain.
"What happened?" I mouthed, when she sat down on the other side of the room. We had the art of lip reading down to perfection.
"Flat," she mouthed back at me.
We were halfway through first period when Mr. Shilon had to step outside the door to speak with another teacher. It was then that someone tentatively tapped me on the shoulder. I didn't know the girl who was sitting behind me, but I thought her name was Carly. I wasn't sure.
"Is it true what they're saying about you?"
I couldn't believe she'd actually had the nerve to ask me such a question. "No," I whispered over my shoulder, not bothering to turn back around or to explain. It wouldn't matter if I denied it until I was blue in the face, people always believed what they wanted to, and they always wanted to believe the worst.
I silently suffered through second and third period. There had been whispers and rude comments made, but I had chosen to ignore them. At lunch, Kara and I sat at our usual table with our plastic utensils and white foam plates filled with the usual unrecognizable goo.
"Where's Brandon?" I asked, since he usually always arrived at the lunchroom the same time Kara did. I was always the one habitually running late since my class was downstairs, but today when I'd walked into the cafeteria Kara was waiting at our table alone.
She'd heard the whole entire sordid story of what a Jezebel I'd become practically overnight and how I'd managed to seduce not one brother but two with my irresistible charms. She'd thought it all funny and gave me a high five as she retold the account of the story she'd heard. Her smile morphed into something purely evil as Mia and Miley walked in and started past our table. "You jealous bitches ain't got nothing on Addie," she said loudly.
Kara was just fanning the flames of a situation I'd hoped would die a quiet forgotten death. By tomorrow, someone else would unfortunately be the center of attention at Crawley County High. The universe was cruel like that, but I guess today was just my lucky day.
Kara was talking, and I realized I had not been listening to a single word she'd said so I tried to focus. "I told Brandon to go around, but no," she exclaimed in an exaggerated tone throwing her hands in the air. "He drove right over top of a damn rock the size of a freaking bolder. That boy drives a Camry, not a monster truck."
I just shrugged my shoulders taking her rant in stride. She had paused to take a breath and a bite of her food when Brandon suddenly plopped down in the chair next to me smacking a stack of yellow post it notes onto the table.
"These assholes are going down."