Well, those four girls are my friends and me.
Everywhere we go, every party we attend, people turn to stare. Like tonight. As we walk into Ben Beachmen’s Last Night of Fall party with our arms linked, necks crane in our direction. Guys holler and whistle, our names are shouted, a few girls tell us we look fabulous. We smile from the top of the stairway, the music booming and vibrating beneath our sparkly, pricey heels.
While my friends love the attention, I always feel uncomfortable. Like a plastic doll on display, an imposter, fake, pretending, when really, I don’t belong.
I’ve often wondered how my life and my family’s became so perfect. Sometimes I pinch myself just to make sure my life isn’t a dream, that fate did give me a seemingly perfect life, both at home and with my friends. It’s not like I tried to become popular. It sort of fell into my lap.
“They’re just jealous,” Kara says to me as she glances at the partygoers, who have paused from their drinking, dancing, and jumping into the pool to stare at us. “They want what we have.”
Steph shakes her head. “Kara, sometimes I wonder how your big, fat head fits through the door.”
“My big head?” Kara eyes Steph’s teased hair. “Look who’s talking. It looks like you have a bird’s nest growing on top of your head.”
“I was talking metaphorically, not literally.” Steph rolls her eyes. “Jesus, how much did you drink before we left?”
Kara wavers. “Um … I don’t know.”
“Please don’t start, guys,” Jane pleads. “We just got here.”
“I’m with Jane on this.” I slide my arm out of Kara’s so I can pick strands of her hair out of my mouth. Thankfully, everyone has stopped with the staring, starstruck thing so they don’t catch me digging around in my mouth with my finger. Although, I am curious what they’d do. Recoil in disgust? Offer me a toothpick? “I want to have fun tonight, not spend the entire night playing mediator.”
Kara and Steph consider what I said, then Steph sticks out her fist toward Kara. “Truce?”
Kara nods and hitches her pinkie with Steph’s. “Fine. Truce, I guess.”
“Well, I was going for a fist bump, but whatever. I guess this works, too.” Steph moves her hand away and turns back to the crowd, unzipping the leather jacket she’s wearing. “So, where should we start first?”
Kara’s eyes skim the dance floor. “Jay’s on the dance floor, so my vote’s there.”
“We agreed no more playing with Jay,” Steph warns Kara. “You messed up that poor boy’s head enough.”
“But he’s such a fun toy,” Kara whines, jutting out her lip.
Steph shakes her head. “No more Jay. He can’t handle you.”
“We could go sit in the Jacuzzi,” Jane suggests with a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “No one’s in it right now.”
Steph grimaces. “Jane, I love you to death, but I can’t do another party where we just sit around on our asses in the hot tub. I want to have fun tonight.” She wiggles her hips, doing a dance.
“I love you, Steph!” a guy shouts from the dance floor.
She winks at him then looks at Kara. “Okay, maybe the dance floor isn’t that bad.”
The two of them exchange a devious look and grin. I know what’s coming next. They’ll go to the dance floor with the intention of dancing with Jay and the guy who just shouted, but then they’ll unintentionally reel in every guy within a fifty-foot radius. Then a fight will inevitably break out over who gets their attention for the evening. And just like that, the party will come to a screeching end.
How do I know this? Because it’s happened at least a dozen times.
To a lot of people, I’m sure this sounds great. Having whatever you ask for, whenever you want it; what could be so bad about that? But there’s a dark side to drawing so much attention. Like Max Tavishson.
Max. Poor Max. Max was the reason I searched the internet for weeks upon weeks, trying to find reasons as to why someone would obey a person, no matter how ludicrous the request. A lot of weird shit came up that freaked me out, so I eventually gave up. I’ve never told anyone about my fear that something might be wrong with me, like maybe I have mind control powers. Still, that fear plagues me every single day.
“How about this?” I chime in, trying to distract my friends from hot guys and dancing. “I’ll go to the hot tub with Jane. And Steph, you go with Kara to get us some drinks. Then we can meet up and figure out our next step.”
Kara scans the backyard until she spots the kegs and liquor area. Her eyes light up, probably because the entire football team is hanging out there. “Sounds like a fantastic plan.” She adjusts her tight-fitted dress, then heads down the porch stairs, swaying her hips.
Steph heaves a sigh, trudging after her. “I’ll go keep an eye on her.”
Once they vanish into the crowd, Jane turns to me. “They’re never going to make it to the hot tub with our drinks. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, probably.” I shrug then smile. “Oh well, I guess it’s just you and me.”
She laughs as we start to make our way toward the hot tub. “I don’t know why Kara and Steph have to flirt with everyone.”
“It’s just who they are.” I keep walking, people scurrying out of my way. They keep apologizing to me, which is just crazy. They’re not doing anything wrong. I’ll admit, I appreciate that they’re making it ten times easier for us to get to the hot tub. “They like guys. A lot. It’s not that big a deal.”
“Yeah. I just wish they’d pick one guy, at least for a little while. I don’t know why they think they have to”—she makes air quotes—“ ‘sample all the tasty treats,’ before they pick one. It always causes fights wherever we go.”
“They don’t mean to cause fights,” I say, though I’m not sure if I believe my own words. Sometimes I think they do. Since they’re my friends, there’s not much I can do or say. “Did you wear your swimsuit underneath your dress?” I change the subject as Jane and I arrive at the hot tub.
She nods. “Did you?”
I nod, unbuttoning my cut-off shorts. “Yep. I’m wearing my lucky plaid bikini. And you know what that means.” I wink at her then bob my head and shake my ass. “I’m bringing the nineties back.”
She chuckles, but then hugs her arms around herself. “I’d rather not undress in front of everyone.”
Her statement doesn’t surprise me. Jane has always been the more modest, shy one in the group. I often prefer spending time with her, because she draws less attention.
I search the overcrowded backyard until I spot a small building. “I’m betting that’s the pool house. I’m sure you can go change in there.”
I start to shimmy out of my shorts, when she snatches my hand and drags me along with her as she hurries toward the pool house.
“Okay, I guess I’m going with you,” I call out through a laugh.
She smiles gratefully as she makes a beeline toward the pool house. She’s small enough that, with her head tucked down, not too many people notice her. Me, I’m the exact opposite. My five-foot-ten height is about as attention grabbing as the disco ball spinning above the pool. I get a few nods, hellos, and hey-how’s-it-going, and some people don’t say anything at all, just gawk at me.
It’s not like I don’t have friends outside of our circle. I do. I socialize with a few people from my art classes. As for close friends, all it’s ever been is Jane, Steph, and Kara. Honestly, it sometimes feels like I never had a choice, like they were chosen for me and I can’t leave the group. It’s such a strange thought and probably makes me sound very ungrateful. Still, I’ve sometimes wondered what it would be like to hang out with a quieter group who doesn’t like getting attention all the time. Would I still get attention? Or would I be able to blend in?
The longer Jane and I walk through the mob, the more gawking I endure. The gawking goes on for so long I find myself wishing for a break. It becomes even more tiring when Ian, a guy from my English class who has a reputation for
being a pervert, jumps in front of me, bobbing to the rhythm of the music.
“Hey, sexy.” His cheeks are flushed, his hair damp with sweat, and he’s panting for air. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight. I thought I heard you say you weren’t going to make it.”
I force a tolerant smile. Ian has never been my favorite person. In fact, he creeps me out.
“I wasn’t, but my friends and I decided to hit it up for a while.”
A grin spreads across his face. “Good. I’ve been wanting to talk to you outside of class.” He places his hands on my hips and pulls me toward him.
A cold chill slithers up my spine. “Please get your hands off me.”
His grin broadens as he paws at me with his meaty hands. “You know you want me touching you like this. I bet you’ve been dreaming about it for years.”
“No, I really haven’t.” I sidestep to swing around him, but he matches my move, blocking my way.
“Oh, come on; just one dance.” He gives me a come-hither look as he puts his sweaty hands on my waist again, digging his fingers into my flesh. With a jerk, he roughly yanks me toward him.
“Stop it,” I warn through gritted teeth.
He only becomes more handsy, touching me without permission, as if he has the right. I’ve seen him do this to plenty of girls. It’s what he’s known for. Even when I try to shove him away, he comes right back.
I grind my teeth until my jaw aches.
Don’t. Just ignore him. Just walk away—
He grabs my ass.
A darkness fills my chest, a hunger I don’t understand but have felt a couple times over the last few months, which was the starting point of why I thought I had mind control powers.
Screw it. He deserves this.
Leaning forward, I seductively whisper in his ear, “You want to dance, huh?”
He bobs his head up and down. “Fuck yeah, I do.”
“Okay, then let’s dance.” I whirl around, aligning my back with his chest.
I let my head fall from side to side as I rock my hips, my body fluidly moving to the tune of the song. He struggles to keep up with me as he slides his hands around my waist, dipping his fingers downward as his tongue seeks my neck. He licks my skin, and I internally gag, but I keep moving forward with my plan.
“You know what I just realized?” I shout over the music. “I don’t know anything about you.”
“That’s not true.” He slides his tongue across my neck again and starts licking me like a freakin’ dog. “I think you’re hot. That’s all you need to know.” He fiddles with the top of my shorts, dipping beneath the waistband.
I spin around before he can get his hand down my pants, hook my arms around his neck, and put my lips beside his ear. “I want to know more about you. Tell me more, please.”
He groans. “Can we at least go up to a room or something? Talk in private?”
“No, you wanted to dance, so we’re going to dance,” I tell him forcefully. “And you’re going to tell me your darkest secrets. I’m guessing you have plenty.”
“You’re right; I do,” he mutters with his brows dipped. “I’m actually a pretty terrible person. I do terrible things … like to Sally Mintone. I made her kiss me, touch me … She didn’t want to. I also hate dancing. I just asked you to dance so I could get you alone and slip something into your drink.”
I press my lips together, my heart thundering in my chest. “Do you do that a lot?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“Where do you keep the drugs?”
“In the glovebox of my car. And there’s some in my locker at school.”
I process what he just told me and come up with a plan to make him pay for everything he’s done—an anonymous call to the police and the principal. I’ll simply tell them that Ian hides drugs in his locker. That should do it.
Well, almost.
“Ian, you’ve been a very bad boy,” I tell him. “I’m going to have to make you pay for what you’ve done to those girls.”
“Yes, please make me pay,” he practically begs. “Punish me.”
“I will,” I promise with a sly smile. “Starting with dancing.”
He slants back, blinking dazedly. “Huh?”
I unloop my arms from around his neck and look him dead in the eye. “You’re going to dance all weekend long, even when you go home tonight. You’ll keep dancing until Monday. Got it?”
“That’s what you want me to do? Really?” He gapes at me.
I nod, putting more distance between us. “Yep.”
He gulps. “Okay.” Then his feet start to tap, and his arms begin to flail as he works to keep up with the pulsating tune of the blaring song.
I walk away, a smile creeping up on my face. “Ready to get in your swimsuit so we can chill in the hot tub?” I ask Jane, who waited off to the side during my interaction with Ian. “It’s starting to sound more and more appealing.”
She nods, but wariness masks her expression. “I don’t know how you get guys to listen to everything you say. It’s the craziest thing.”
“They don’t listen to everything I say,” I lie as we finish the rest of the walk to the pool house.
“That’s such a lie. You have everyone wrapped around your little finger.”
Is that how she sees me?
“I don’t do it on purpose.”
She raises her brows, giving me a really look.
“Well, unless it’s for a good cause,” I add. “You heard what Ian said. He deserves what’s coming to him.” As I say it, guilt settles over me. The darkness inside my chest is gone and a giant voice has replaced it.
“You’re kind of like a vigilante.”
“Not really.”
“Sometimes you are. You’re always watching out for everyone. So just own that you’re a good person, okay?”
I nod, even though I’m not a good person. While I can justify what I did to Ian, I can’t justify the sick, twisted pleasure I get out of knowing he’ll suffer through the weekend. Then, come Monday, his life could be ruined. And I sure as hell can’t justify what I did to Max.
Stop thinking about him!
When we reach the pool house, Jane pokes her head inside. “There’s only one stall.”
If I were here with Steph or Kara, we’d probably just go in together, but Jane never changes in front of us.
“You go first,” I tell her.
Nodding, she slips in and shuts the door. I step back into the shadows and peel my black tank top over my head, kick my sneakers off, and slide my shorts down my legs. I want to glance over at Ian to see if he’s still dancing, but I’m too afraid to find out.
“Oh, look, just in time for a show.”
The deep, male voice comes out of nowhere and startles me so badly I trip over my feet. I stumble forward with my shorts around my knees and bang my elbow against the side of the brick pool house. As the skin tears open, I bite down on my tongue in pain. I’ve never felt anything like it. Pain. So much pain.
Is that the first time I’ve felt pain before?
“God, that hurts,” I groan, cradling my elbow. I stare down at the gnarly gash on my smooth skin, blood seeping out. I’ve never seen anything like it, on myself, anyway. “It looks so … disgusting.”
The guy steps out from the shadows with a smirk on his face. “Don’t be so overdramatic. It’s just a cut.” His eyes drag up my body, lingering too long on my bikini covered chest. “I’m sure you’ve had a ton of them before.”
“Of course I’ve had cuts before,” I lie. The truth is, I never have. Not once. Not even so much as a paper cut. I know it’s weird, but I’m just not accident prone.
“Mmmhmm.” He nods like he is agreeing with me, yet his condescending tone suggests otherwise. “I’m sure you have.” He smirks again. “I mean, why would you lie about something so stupid?”
I’ve never had anyone talk or look at me this way before, and I’m not sure how to react.
“Look, I don’t
know who you think you are, but I—”
“Cameron,” he says, cutting me off.
“Huh?”
“You said you didn’t know who I am,” he explains in amusement. “I’m Cameron. I just moved here from Sin City. I like long walks on the beach, even though I live nowhere near the beach. I’m a Gemini, a fantastic lover, and I love to dance. There, now you know who I am.” He rakes his hand through his short blond hair then crosses his arms, watching me intently.
I blink at him, too stunned for words. His emphasis on “love to dance” doesn’t go unnoticed. Does he know what I did to Ian? That he’ll be dancing all weekend because I told him to?
That’s not that strange. Girls ask guys to dance all the time.
But guys don’t usually dance solo by themselves for forty-eight hours straight, do they? You know you’re different, Remi. Always have been.
“I feel sort of bad for the poor bastard. He didn’t even know what was coming,” Cameron remarks, studying my reaction closely.
“I’m sorry, but I have no clue what you’re talking about.” I play dumb, feeling nervous and fidgety.
With his eyes fixed on me, he points over his shoulder at Ian, who is jumping up and down in the middle of a group of people. “You don’t, huh?”
I shake my head, my pulse soaring. “Nope.”
“Hmmm …” He thrums his finger against his bottom lip. “Then how about I show you?”
Before I can tell him that I don’t want him to show me anything, he dips his head, puts his lips up to my ear, and whispers, “Dance with me, Remi.” He shifts back and offers me his hand.
I don’t want to dance with him, but I find myself letting him lead me to the dance floor. I feel like I’m floating, my feet not even touching the ground. In the back of my mind, I know this isn’t right, that I should slip my fingers from his, but it’s like I’ve lost control over my body.
“Wait, I can’t dance. I’m in my bikini,” I argue lamely as we reach the middle of the dance floor.
Cursed Superheroes (Books 1-3) Page 2
