The Prom Queen's Sinner: Thornwood Small Town Forbidden Romance Book One

by J. E. Bradley

  Maybe this is all in my head. It’s my dream—my sick imagination. She wouldn’t care even if she had seen the kiss. To her, I’m just Derrick’s asshole dad. And that’s all I’ll ever be.

  Savannah

  During halftime, I head for the bathroom.

  I don’t have a ton of time, but once I’m finished I stare at myself in the mirror. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, conflicted emotions like a glaring wound. For some reason, watching him kiss her...it hurt. Though there’s absolutely no reason why I should feel this way, I can’t stop thinking about it.

  Exiting the bathroom, I look out at the field, hating that I even care. It would be better if I didn’t even think about him because thoughts are the only place he can exist for me. I’m quickly jolted back when I knock into someone.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurt before I have time to soak in the sight of Derrick’s dad.

  Heat creeps into my cheeks, and I cross my arms. Oh my god.

  “My fault,” he responds with a cool nod of his head. But he doesn’t move. He stands there, staring at me. And I stare back, all too boldly until I feel like my brain might leak out of my ears.

  “Listen, about the other day...I’m really sorry. I won’t go into rooms I’m not supposed to.”

  He shrugs.

  “It’s all good. No harm done,” he says, his expression emotionless and unreadable. “I didn’t see anything.”

  My heart floods with excitement when he says this, and I hold my breath. Little sparkles skittering through my belly.

  “Oh…” I bite my lip and peer up into his severe hazel eyes. “Um, I was going to say, Derrick told me you don’t want me there anymore. I hope you know how sorry I am. Maybe we can try again sometime?”

  He swallows, and I watch the bob of his Adams apple. There’s a fleeting break in the armor of his expression, one that reveals a dark ache. Is it pain? Or something else?

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” His eyes lower over my body slowly, and then return to my face as if he’d never allowed himself even a second to look. I have to be delusional because there’s no way that he could want me in that way. Could he? What did that lingering scrutiny mean? I clench my stomach and cross my arms, crawling in my skin.

  I am disappointed but perplexed. Everything about him causes me to quiver with foolish school-girl infatuation. Knowing that he doesn’t want me there, still? I feel even more ridiculous. Even more immature.

  But, I should have known. It was stupid of me to even attempt to speak with him.

  “I understand,” I dip my head and shoulder past him, heading for the field.

  ***

  “Well, I’d say this car is total junk, but I honestly think it’s cool you have your own car now! I remember when I got mine at sixteen it was a life changer!” Elaina spouts off from the passenger seat, kicking her feet up on my white 2009 Mazda 626’s dash.

  “I’m so excited!” I nearly squeal out, gripping the steering wheel tightly as we pull away from my house.

  I was wrong about my dad. He was in a good mood and decided that it was a great, nearly miraculous idea that I bought my own car. He’d threatened to take my car away if he saw my grades slipping, but I know better. Really, it’s that he’ll take it away if I look at him wrong one night when he’s particularly pissed off. But I don’t mind. All I know is that I have my own damn car, and it’s perfect. It’s freedom on wheels.

  “So, have you broken it in yet?” Elaina wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, and I roll my eyes.

  “You know Derrick and I don’t do that,” I remind her, hiding a smile.

  “But you want to? Is that it?” She asks, lifting her sharp chin and eyes narrowing in scrutiny.

  “I was thinking about it,” I inhale deeply, driving off onto the main street in town that’ll lead us to school. “Prom night. I want to make it special.”

  The sun filters in through the windows and heats us all up until I have to turn on the air conditioning. Our town is a bunch of newer buildings built on top of old ones, denying the past and embracing the future. Every modern style business we pass embodies the people that work inside them, rich, professional, and snobby. Elaina and I fit the bill perfectly, still, I don’t feel like I truly belong.

  Losing my virginity on Prom night? Maybe that’ll help. Maybe it is like she says, and I just need to loosen up and live a little.

  “Oh my god, Sav!” Elaina giggles gleefully. “I’m so fucking excited!”

  “Language,” I tease. I don’t actually care if she swears. “Why are you excited? It’s not like it’s your v-card?”

  “I’ve been waiting for you to lose yours so I could talk to you about sex for as long as…” she counts on her fingers. “Well, I’ve been waiting since the eighth grade! You’re eighteen, girl, and Derrick is hot. I honestly don’t know what’s holding you back.”

  I lick my lips and focus on the road. No one understands. It’s normal to toss away something that doesn’t matter. But why should I give him that gift if I truly don’t feel like it? Is it a betrayal of self? Is it a betrayal of him because I don’t really love him? Why do we do these things so quickly, without even a thought? Because people tell us we’re supposed to? Aside from all this, if my dad ever found out I’m convinced I’d be thrown into the bay with rocks around my neck.

  “My dad would kill me if he found out. I just have a feeling he’d know.”

  “It’s not like the morning after you’ll have a sign written on your forehead saying “I had my pussy plowed.”” Elaina snickers. “Honestly, my parents don’t know that I’m not a virgin. They think I’m as pristine as a catholic church girl.”

  My laughter is lodged in my throat as we pull into school. Suddenly, my car starts juddering and makes a strange noise.

  “What the hell?” I mutter.

  “Oh god. That’s exactly what you need right now,” Elaina comments as we both listen to the strange clunking noise.

  The guy I bought it from had said that it ran as smooth as butter and that there shouldn’t be anything wrong with it. I roll my eyes as I draw the car into a parking space.

  “Sorry, Sav. That sucks. Maybe you can have your dad take it into the mechanic,” Elaina says, grabbing her black coach backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. “Thanks for the ride. And for having me over last night.”

  “Anytime,” I say.

  “Aren’t you coming?” she asks as she opens the car door.

  “I’ll be in in a minute. I’m going to text Derrick,” I tell her, and pull my phone from my backpack.

  She blows me a kiss, one of her beautiful dreamy kinds, her silky blonde hair flowing in the wind, makeup flawless on her model-girl face. I give a smile, because I seem good at handing those out, and wait till she’s out of eyesight, then rest my head on the steering wheel.

  If I believed in karma, I’d ask karma why the hell it has a problem with me. What did I ever do to anyone to make things like this happen? It’s not just that my brand new, expensive, purchase is now making garbage noises. It’s everything. It all slumps atop my shoulders, working into the muscles, into my bones. Without an eye to see me, the weight of it all crushes back down onto me, and even my best happy-girl performance couldn’t stave it off.

  I’m so over it all. I’m over school. Over this town. Over life itself. If my life was a song it would be a ballad of the bird trapped in a cage. No matter what I do, life will offer me one cage and one alone, so I’d best be happy with it. And my masters, the ones who’ve put me in here, will never let me go.

  I sit back in my seat and blow out a breath. I think about the school day ahead. About ASB, and how we need to finalize the theme for Prom, how I’ll have cheer practice after school, about the essay due at the end of the week in English, and all of the calculus homework I have to finish. I think about the people I’ll have to pass in the halls who all have some opinion of me that may or may not be valid.

  Who would want to play this game over and ove
r?

  It’s been two weeks since I’d seen Derrick’s dad kissing his girlfriend at the football game and ran into him next to the bathroom. I can’t believe that the man’s finally let a woman near him, but I guess I can’t blame him. I can imagine it would get lonely, day after day of work and no true close human contact. Maybe that’s why I stay with Derrick, and even contemplate giving my virginity to him—because it’s easier to take what you can get, even if it’s not what you fully crave.

  Where are you? Derrick’s text flashes on my screen, and I contemplate responding. His possessiveness annoys me. Then I have the twinge of an idea.

  My car is having issues…and Mr. Draper’s car shop is only a few miles away. At the most, I’d miss a few periods. The thought of going there and seeing him pushes my heartbeat up to my throat. I can feel it in my head, pulsing in my temples as I think about what it would be like to watch him working on my car. I’m sure he’d know what to do. And it would be out of good will since I’m his son’s girlfriend. Nothing strange about that, right?

  I twist the key in the ignition and the noises start up again. I pull out of the parking lot with rebellion hot on my skin. I’ve never skipped classes before, and there’s something about this secret that’s delicious and desirable. Maybe this is what I’ve been missing in my life. A way to make myself feel more in control.

  Draper’s Auto shop is the only car shop in the small town of Thornwood, and his business is no different from the rest. It’s a newer building with multiple entries for cars to pull into the garage. There’s a spot for airing up tires, an office building that’s connected to the garage, and when I pull up there’s a worker coming toward me immediately. I’m disappointed that it’s not Mr. Draper. What if he’s not working today? I suddenly feel a tug in my stomach that this was a bad idea. I shouldn’t have even come. This could have waited till after school.

  “How can we help you today, miss?” the man asks once I’ve rolled down my window.

  “My car is making weird noises,” I explain.

  He jerks his head at the garage and I pull my car in carefully. The man is a little chunky and I see that his name tag says: Caleb. I’m sure he’s a dad. He looks like a dad who’s both pitying me and ready to chastise me for not being in class.

  “Well, it definitely sounds like something is going on. Has it been doing this long?” he asks.

  I hop out of the car and he heads around to open the hood. I follow him, wrapping my arms around myself as I glance around, anxious.

  “No…I just bought it over the weekend. I haven’t driven it much. The guy I bought it from said that it was in peak condition.”

  His brows lower and he shrugs.

  “Well, we’ll figure it out.”

  “Caleb,” I twist around, knowing his voice.

  That voice thrums through my body and honeys my bones. Our eyes meet and I swear, I swear that he reacts the way that I’m feeling. Like our bodies are somehow in tune with one another, and even if it’s just fantasy, that we’re both taken aback by the force of the other’s presence. It’s like he’s knocked the breath out of my lungs, and I grip myself tighter. He looks at me briefly and then lets his eyes slide away, back to Caleb. Is he really not going to say anything? I don’t even get a ‘hello’?

  “I’ll take care of this one,” he tells his guy, coming around to the popped hood.

  Caleb seems undeterred, perfectly good-natured. He shrugs again and ambles off to work on the next job in line.

  His silence is grating and painful, like a weight on my chest. Slowly, I’m unraveling, my body crumbling beneath the pressure. My heart skips beats and I hold my breath, trying to pull myself together. I feel like such an idiot. I was foolish to come here. He’s going to think I have a stupid schoolgirl crush on him, and why wouldn’t he think that? He caught me staring at him during the game after he’d kissed his girlfriend and I tried to get him to let me back into his home. Maybe he just thinks I’m an innocent little girl with too much time to think. Maybe that’s all I am.

  Wyatt’s tall frame bends over the front of my car, his physique bunched with muscles that aren’t too bulky, but rather tell of hard work and natural strength. His waist is trim, shown off nicely from beneath his tight black t-shirt. How can he be so old and look so good? It’s fascinating to me. I blow out a breath and he glances up at me. His hazel eyes pierce through any stamina I might have built up. For some reason, this simple look floods me with emotion.

  “Your dad finally bought you a car, huh?” he asks.

  I look away, shaking my head.

  “Oh, no. I bought it,” I murmur.

  He makes a noise of understanding and begins to jostle things around inside my car. I watch his hands. They are firm and precise, and every time he moves a metal piece or a wire I feel like I’m watching art in motion. He works with intelligence, everything about him calm and assured, nothing making him awkward or insecure. He believes in himself and his abilities, and I admire this about him. All the while, there’s a brooding curve to his brows that makes him seem like he’s in pain. Constant internal suffering. But why?

  “Looks like your oil needs to be changed,” he mutters as he dips his head lower and then pops back up. “I’ll try that and see if that’s all it is.”

  “Um,” I cross my arms and try to appear mature. “Sounds good. Hopefully, that’s all.”

  He looks away and then does a few more little tests.

  “You can go wait in the waiting room if you want, Savannah.”

  The way he says my name makes me shiver. I imagine him saying it over and over, grunting it as we share secret moments, pleading it as he aches for something more. My ridiculous body goes all sorts of places with this, my imagination running wild. I lick my bottom lip, dazed.

  Derrick doesn’t say my name like this. No one has ever said my name like this. Spoken it as if my name alone carries purpose and holiness.

  “Savannah?” he asks me again, snapping me out of it.

  “Oh,” I let out a breath and bite my inner lip. “I don’t mind waiting here.”

  He gives me a quizzical expression and then takes the keys. I go to seat myself at the side of the garage, crouching down against the wall. I watch as he does what he does, working on my car as if it were as natural to him as breathing. He gets the car jacked up and then does a few other things that allow me the freedom to watch him as he strains his body beneath my car. I think back to the pictures of Derrick and Krista in his bedroom. How sad it must be to only have memories of happiness, of closeness with others, and only know loneliness. I guess this must be where his girlfriend comes into play, to repel the ache of missing something you know you’ll never get back.

  Or something you know you’ll never have.

  I check my phone and find that a few of my friends have texted me, and Derrick has messaged me five times asking where I am.

  I’m fine. Just getting my car fixed. I text back. Then add, I’ll be back after lunch.

  I can’t miss the meeting with ASB, which always happens just after school is let out. We have to take all the school’s poll results and finalize potential themes for Prom. Then there’s the Halloween party to plan. Right now, I’d like nothing more than to ignore Prom, Halloween, and school, and every responsibility on my shoulders and throw them out the window.

  An hour or so passes and Wyatt’s got my car back on the ground and everything is closed up and ready to go.

  “Alright. I’m going to take it for a test drive,” he tells me. He’s smudged with grease and his hands are nearly black, his narrow face and sharp jaw clenching.

  “I’ll come with,” I say, and for a moment I think he’ll deny me, but instead, he nods his head toward the passenger seat.

  My stomach rumbles with excitement. I’ve never truly been alone with him, other than the few seconds exchange that passed between us when I’d come out of his shower. I feel giddy, ridiculously so. For someone so awarded at school and with such a perfect reputa
tion, you’d think I’d be smarter than this. Less ready to fling all my visible achievements out the window for something salacious. I shiver to think of what dad will say or do if he finds out even the first layer of what I’m doing. Him knowing that I skipped class alone will be detrimental. If he knew that I was attracted to an older man…I can’t even think about the consequences.

  I sit in the passenger seat and I am shocked at how strange it feels to be seated so close to him. He doesn’t look at me and doesn’t speak. But there is a physical vibration between us in the air. It’s so unnerving that I clasp my hands together in my lap and squeeze.

  He pulls us out and instead of going onto Thornwood’s main street, he heads toward the backroads. The backroads are reminders of Thornwood’s past, reminiscent of years before. They speak of the town’s history, of how it was here long before all the wealthy and affluent families settled. I wonder if Wyatt’s been around to see some of these changes. Most likely during his thirty-four years, he’s seen some of it.

  “Why aren’t you in school?” he asks.

  His voice carries the same harsh vibrato that it always does, and this wiggles its way into my chest and makes adrenaline spike around my heart.

  “I wanted to get this fixed so I didn’t have to do it after school,” I say, trying to sound carefree and relaxed. I don’t know how well I do this, but I wish I could say something without sounding like a complete ditz.

  “Is this going on your dad’s account?” he asks, a crook in his brow. Hazel eyes swallow me up as he glances toward me, and then back at the road. My heart drops in my chest, and I suddenly cannot believe what a perfectly idiotic person I am. I may as well drag myself by the hair down to the train tracks and lay myself down. My dad will kill me if I do that.

  “Uh…” I try to hide my trembling hands and place them between my thighs. “No, I’ll pay for it. Just, maybe give me a couple of days to come up with the money.”

  Wyatt says nothing, but the air between us is palpable. Sweat dribbles down my back and forms between my breasts, and I take a deep breath, not knowing what else to do or say. Feeling completely lost, thoughtless, and reckless. As I’d been coming out here, it had seemed like such a sinfully sweet idea. Now I realize that bending the boundaries of what’s acceptable, for me, is laughable. I shouldn’t even try to step outside of my bounds because what lays outside of them is only disappointment and rejection.