by Wendi Wilson
I shook my head with wonder, and he gave me a look that said, What?
I slapped his knee, then closed my hand around it, using it for leverage as I pulled myself closer to him. I had to shout in his ear to be heard over the music, which had just been cranked up even louder.
“Does that always happen?” I yelled.
He laughed, then turned to shout into my ear, “Yeah, pretty much. They can’t resist all this.”
He waved a hand down his chest, and I slapped the back of my hand against it. He laughed again, massaging his fingertips across the spot where I’d hit him. I settled back to resume my people watching and caught a stranger’s eye.
Her face paled just before she spun around, shoving something into her back pocket as she disappeared into the crowd. Another gaggle of girls approached Seth, and I pushed the girl and her strange reaction from my mind. Watching these bitches’ desperate attempts to tempt Seth was just too entertaining.
A couple of guys even approached me, asking me to dance or offering me drinks—filled with alcohol and God knows what else. Of course, I didn’t even have a chance to turn any of them down before Seth would growl out a warning.
“People are going to get the wrong idea if you keep doing that,” I warned after he told the last guy to get away from me in no uncertain terms.
“I don’t give a fuck what these people think,” he said.
“What about what I think? What if I want to go dance with one them?”
I didn’t.
“I’m just trying to protect you,” Seth explained. “Like any brother would do for his sister.”
“I know,” I said, shooting him a smile. “And I really do appreciate it.”
“You ready to get out of here?” he asked.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I said.
He stood up and offered his hand, pulling me to my feet. He held onto me as we weaved our way through the crowd, through the front door, and out into the fresh night air.
“Want to hit Barney’s for an ice cream sundae before we head home?” he asked as we climbed into my car.
“Are they still open?” I asked, cranking the engine and looking at the clock on the stereo. It was only ten-thirty.
“They’re open until midnight on the weekends.”
“All right. Let’s do it,” I said.
Barney’s was the ice cream shop where I’d met Stella last semester. She’d wanted to talk to me, to try to convince me to drop my vendetta against the Rogues, and Barney’s was the perfect place because no one from Everly Prep would be caught dead there.
Of course, I didn’t listen to her, initiated my revenge plans, and made everyone’s lives hell for something her parents did—and made the boys take the fall for.
I was so sure this year would be different. That we could all be happy, even if it was only in private. But the Bellamys had managed to stay two steps ahead of me, striking me right where it would hurt the worst.
I shook off the melancholy trying to squeeze me to death and pulled into the parking lot. Seth and I found a secluded booth in the back and ordered a giant sundae with three flavors of ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream, and sprinkles. And two spoons.
We talked about movies and TV shows, music, and what we plan to do after graduation. We talked about our parents and their sickly sweet romance. About my life before Atticus Kincaid. About Seth’s life before me.
We talked about anything and everything, as long as it didn’t include Everly Prep, the Bellamys, or our broken hearts.
It was a good night, and as I laid my head down on my pillow, I knew I would sleep peacefully.
And for the first time in two weeks, I did.
23
“God, no. Please.”
I threw my arms across my eyes, sighing heavily as my phone chimed again and again in the dim light of morning. I didn’t want to look. Any time that happened, there was some picture of me in a compromising position that was either staged or taken way out of context for the gossipmongers at Everly Prep.
I. Did. Not. Want. To. Look.
But I had to. If I was right, and something new was going around about me, ripping me to shreds for the amusement of my peers, I needed to know. I couldn’t just bury my head under my pillow and hide for the rest of senior year, no matter how blissful that sounded.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes before reaching over to pluck my phone from the nightstand. I held my breath as I unlocked the screen, and didn’t even blink an eye when I saw the number of notifications.
This had become par for the course—some bitch would tag me in a salacious post in the middle of the night, and I’d wake up to my phone blowing up with notifications. The routine was tired. Amelia, Isla, and Charlotte had no creativity.
My thoughts screeched to a halt as the post garnering all the attention loaded onto my screen.
“What the fuck?” I mumbled as my brain registered what my eyes were seeing.
It was a picture of me with Seth. We were seated on a crowded couch, our thighs pressed together for a lack of room. My hand was on his knee, and his mouth was by my ear. I had a smile on my face, and my eyes were closed, like the photographer had caught me mid-blink.
It was obviously from the party last night…but who could’ve taken it? None of the Roguettes were there. I’d scanned the faces in the crowd all night, watching for Charlotte to pop up with her camera and voice-recording equipment like some kind of ninja spy.
My eyes trailed to the poster of the picture. Isla Bishop. Figured. So much for hoping to pull her over to my side. Bitch deserved whatever she got from Charlotte and Amelia. I suddenly didn’t feel so guilty about the punch to the throat I gave her.
I looked at the caption.
Better watch out, @XOXOAmeliaXOXO. That trash-whore @ChazM18 has her next target and is moving in on your man. I guess it’s convenient. #Gross #ThatsHerBrother #WhatASlut #IncestIsNOTBest
“Okay, this is just ridiculous,” I muttered, my eyes scanning the comments.
No one could possibly believe this bullshit. Right?
@HendoJam77: Damn, Seth is hot. I’d hit that, brother or no.
Ugh. Henderson James, Josh’s fake ex-boyfriend—skeevy as ever.
@RandyW69: Shit, I’d get in line for that. Look at that mouth. Bet she gives great head.
@BessyBeeLOL: Wow, she sure got over @MBellamy1 fast. What a whore.
Oh, great. Some rando tagged Mason. If he didn’t see this picture before, he was sure to see it now.
Not that it really mattered. I slumped back against my pillows with the thought. Mason had dumped me like yesterday’s trash and hadn’t uttered a word to me in two weeks. He didn’t give a shit about what I did or didn’t do.
Seth, on the other hand…Mason’s sister Stella was in love with him. I needed to warn him before Stella saw this and lost her shit.
I leapt from my bed and hauled ass to Seth’s room, knocking once before throwing the door open. Realizing my possible mistake, I immediately threw a hand up in front of my eyes and froze in my tracks.
“Seth, are you decent?” I called out, keeping my eyes squeezed firmly shut.
“Yes. Come in,” his sleepy voice called out.
I dropped my hand, then cracked one eye open as if seeing him naked with one eye was infinitely better than seeing it with both. I relaxed and released a pent up breath when I saw him propped up on his bed, bare-chested with a sheet draped over his lower half.
“Have you seen this?” I asked, holding up my phone as I crossed the distance to his bed.
“No. What is it?” he asked on a yawn as his arms stretched over his head.
I shoved the screen in front of his face and waited for him to freak out. His brow quirked, and I watched his eyes scan from left to right as he read the text that accompanied the photo. Then he slumped back with a sigh.
“How did Isla get a picture of us?” he asked in a very not-freaked-out voice.
I opened my mouth to say I ha
d no clue, then a memory tickled my brain, and I snapped it shut. That girl.
“I think the Roguettes have some townies on their payroll,” I said. “I caught a girl looking at us last night, and as soon as she saw me looking, she ran away…as she tucked her phone into her pocket. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but I bet she was using that phone to take pictures of us.”
“You’re probably right,” he said, punctuating it with a sigh. “God, I’m sorry, Chaz. This is all my fault.”
I waved him off. “I don’t give two shits what these assholes say about me, Seth. But Stella will see this, if she hasn’t already. What if she believes it?”
He shook his head, smiling. “You’re nothing but sugar, and spice, and everything nice under that thick, badass exterior, aren’t you?”
“Shut up,” I ordered. “This is serious, Seth. She could end up hating us both, and while it would suck for me because I really like her, it could be devastating for you.”
“Calm down, Chaz,” Seth said after I finished my half-crazed tirade. “I texted her on her burner phone when we got home last night, and she actually got back to me.”
“She did? What did she say?”
Excitement sparked inside me against my will. If Stella was back to communicating with Seth, then maybe Mason would—
“She said her parents had found the phone and stashed it where she couldn’t get to it. It took her days of trying, but she finally figured out what code they used for the safe in their bedroom, and she took it back.”
“Won’t they notice?” I asked distracted from thoughts of Mason.
He chuckled and shook his head. “My genius girlfriend went out and bought another phone in that model and switched out the SIM cards. All the text messages and data stay on the phone, so it will look like it’s the same phone.”
I nodded, my eyes unfocused as I processed what Stella had done. “Why didn’t she just buy the phone and use it to call you?”
“She doesn’t have any numbers memorized,” he said, chuckling. “She couldn’t call anyone without that SIM card with the numbers on it. Anyway, Mason’s burner was in there, too, which explains why he hasn’t responded to any texts or calls.”
My head snapped up. “Did she say anything about him?”
Seth shook his head. “I’m sorry, Chaz. Apparently, he’s still refusing to talk to her about you or Charlotte. He knows she’d tell me the truth, and I’d tell you.”
“Oh,” I said lamely, nodding like I understood and accepted his words.
“Anyway, I told Stella everything we’ve been doing to pass the time, including going to that party last night. When she sees this post,” he said, tapping a fingertip against the phone in my hand, “she’ll see it for what it is—another lame attempt to tear you down. She knows how I feel about her. And she knows how I feel about you.”
My eyes snapped back up to meet his, and something in the honey brown depths of his irises told me things were getting real.
“She knows I love you,” Seth continued, reaching a hand out to squeeze mine, “like she loves Mason. Like a brother loves a sister. We’re family, Chaz Miller. Now, and forever. Everyone who matters knows that.”
My stupid eyes started leaking, my mind and heart unprepared for the emotional roller coaster this morning was turning into. I blinked a few times and sniffed before I responded.
“I love you, too, brutha.”
“Brutha. I like it,” he said, giving me a devastating grin. “Now stop freaking out, and get out of here so I can shower and change. This is your last day of freedom before you go back to hell—I mean school. What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we could invite Josh and Simone over for a movie marathon?”
He nodded. “You got it. What my little sister wants, my little sister gets.”
I narrowed my gaze at him for the “little sister” comment, and he chuckled. At this point, he was only saying it to get under my skin. And it worked every damn time.
“I’ll show you little,” I said, curling my fingers into claws. Then, straightening them as if sheathing the talons, I added, “But I’ll let you get dressed first.”
I turned and sashayed from the room, feeling a gazillion times better than I did when I barged in.
Having a brother really was the best.
24
Simone and Josh were both all for a Sunday movie marathon, and showed up together mid-morning. Seth and I laid out a buffet of donuts, toaster pastries, and fruit on the coffee table in front of the couch, which the four of us snacked on while watching Mean Girls.
“It’s painfully ironic that we’re watching this,” Josh said, shoving a strawberry into his mouth. “Social media is today’s version of a “burn book,” except everyone sees it immediately and gets to share their thoughts on it for the world to see.”
“Yeah,” Simone added, “should we turn this off? This is supposed to make Chaz forget everything.”
“No,” I said. “This is a great movie, and besides, we have to see the part where the head bitch gets hit by a bus.”
Josh and Seth laughed out loud, and Simone shook her head at me with a grin. It was easy, and darkly pleasant, to imagine Charlotte Rutherford getting ran down by a speeding school bus.
Simone picked up the remote control and paused the movie. She stared at me for a moment, her dark, soulful eyes, shining brightly.
“I was going to wait until after the movie to bring this up,” she said, “but I can’t wait anymore. Cooper and I have a plan.”
“A plan?” I asked.
“What kind of plan?” Josh added.
“This has to stop,” she explained. “Despite Mason’s best efforts to convince everyone he’s fully committed to Charlotte, I can see the pain in his eyes. He’s hating every minute of this farce, and it’s time for him to admit it to Chaz.”
“I’m not so sure there’s anything to admit,” I said, cringing at the defeat I heard in my voice.
“That’s because you only see what he wants you to see, Chaz,” Simone insisted. “He has to sell it, to you most of all.”
This sounded eerily familiar to what Josh had said, and I wondered if the two of them had put their heads together to come up with this theory. What was I thinking? Of course, they had.
“Listen, I’m not just pulling this out of thin air,” Simone continued. “I’ve seen the disgust on his face when he thought no one was looking. He can’t stand touching her, but he’s doing it for Stella.”
“But—”
“No,” she said with a slash of her hand, cutting me off. “I’m done letting you sabotage yourself. Cooper’s seen it, too, and he agrees with me. Mason is throwing himself on the sword, sacrificing his relationship with you to protect his sister. That’s all it is. And we’re going to stage an intervention to make him admit it.”
“And how do you propose we get him to this intervention?” Seth asked. “He’s been avoiding everyone except Charlotte for weeks.”
“That’s where Cooper comes in,” Simone answered, a smile curving up her lips. “He knows a local talent agent who’s agreed to help. This guy has already contacted Charlotte, telling her he found her and her friends on social media, and he wants to represent them.”
“Ugh, that sounds like an after school special in the making. Catfish, much?” I said.
Simone laughed. “Yes, but their egos outweigh their better judgment. Besides, this guy really is a legit agent, and a little research would prove that. Tomorrow afternoon, the Roguettes have an appointment to read for a movie role at one o’clock. Once they leave school, we can ambush Mason. Get him somewhere private where no one will see or hear us.”
“We can use the old chem lab,” Seth offered.
“That’s what Cooper suggested,” Simone said.
“But how will we get him there?” I asked. “He doesn’t want to talk to any of us, so he’ll never agree.”
“You leave that to me,” Seth said, his lips curv
ing up into an evil grin. “I have an in with his kryptonite.”
Monday morning rolled around too fast, and as I listened to my alarm scream at me to wake up, a pit of dread formed in my stomach. Today, I had to return to Everly Prep.
Today, we planned to confront Mason.
The first one, I could handle. I could channel my inner badass and make it through the day, easy peasy. Besides, kicking the shit out of Amelia and Isla before getting arrested in front of the whole school? Colossal street cred points amassed. No one would be quick to fuck with me, I was sure.
The second part, I wasn’t so certain about. Even if Seth could get Mason to the old chem lab, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t just turn right around and leave the second he laid eyes on me. And if that happened…
I didn’t know what I would do. Cry? Maybe. Chase him down the hall and beg him to talk to me? God, I hoped not. I did have some self-respect.
So, I did what any kick-ass bad girl would do—I put on my armor.
Tight jeans that made my ass look amazing, a flowy tank that stopped just short of my waistline, baring a sliver of midsection, my boots, and my black leather jacket. I applied a healthy dose of war paint, outlining my green eyes with dark kohl, brightening my cheeks with a light pink blush, and smearing on a dark maroon lip gloss that matched my top.
I curled my hair into fat waves, adding argon oil to the ends to give them a glossy look.
With one last look in the mirror, I gave my reflection a nod. I was ready for battle.
Seth offered me a ride in his Mustang, but I declined. I wanted to drive my car—a badass chick showing up on her own in a badass car was the impression I wanted to give as I returned to Everly Prep. I didn’t want people thinking I was hiding behind my brother.
I also didn’t want to reinforce the consensus that we were together after Isla’s post inferred as much.
A shiver wracked through me at the thought. Though Seth and I weren’t actually related and a relationship between us wouldn’t be that big of a deal, I couldn’t even fathom kissing him. Ugh.
