Stolen Crush

by Stunich, C. M.

  Pricks.

  “Too bad,” Lumen says, casting a glance in Chasm’s direction. “Kwang-seon is on his way to being valedictorian.” She pauses for a moment, tapping at her glossy lower lip with a single finger. “Or at least salutatorian, if I have my way about it.”

  Turning to look at her, I cock a brow and try to figure out which part of that statement is most interesting: that Chasm is one of the top students at Whitehall … or that Lumen just referred to him as … what was it? It almost sounded like it started with a ‘G’ and a ‘K’ at the same time.

  “His name is Kwang-seon?” I ask, blinking a few times in surprise. Lumen gives me what amounts to a sultry smile before lifting a perfect brow in my direction.

  “Apparently when they first met, Parrish was missing a tooth and all he could say was ‘chasm’. It just sort of stuck. Cute, right? Also, his dad hates the nickname, and he hates his dad, so …” Lumen takes my arm the way she’s been doing virtually every morning this week and leads me down the hall toward my first class. Without her help, I’d likely still be getting lost on the way there. “Guess it’s just you and me now?” She gives me a smile that I’m not entirely sure how to interpret, and then leans over and presses a floral-scented kiss to my cheek. “Don’t worry. He can’t sink you if you’re attached to me.”

  And there it is, the honest truth.

  What did Danyella tell me when I first arrived here? Welcome to hell? It hasn’t been so bad thus far, but I get the idea that I’ve somehow fallen into a lucky niche. Chance and circumstance are on my side. Maxx told me not to trust anyone at this school, and he should know better than anyone. He survived four years here as a scholarship student. Class warfare is real, unfortunately.

  “Will he try?” I ask, because even though it feels like I know Parrish, we’re strangers. Worse than strangers, really, because we can’t escape one another, no matter how much we hate each other, no matter how much we fight.

  Lumen gives me a look that sums it up without words: oh yes.

  “Enjoy being my girlfriend for a while,” she says, her gang of supermodel-esque girls flowing down the hall behind us. “And I’ll see you at Danyella’s after school.”

  Without warning, Lumen turns and threads her arms around my neck, pressing a kiss to my mouth that surprises the shit out of me.

  It’s all I can think about for the rest of the day.

  By the end of the school day, I’ve decided three very important things.

  One: Mr. Volli’s class is by far my favorite. Granted, I don’t understand a thing he’s talking about, but he’s nice, and he doesn’t look at me like a steaming pile of cat turds the way my other teachers (minus Ms. Miyamoto) do.

  Two: if I don’t find someone—Chasm or otherwise—to tutor me then I am really and truly fucked here. I will fail every class, and I won’t get into NYU, and I’ll be stuck living off of Tess’ good graces for the rest of my life. Note to self: maybe I should use my newfound clout to revive my Twitch channel.

  Three: someone has posted a quickie shot of Lumen and me online and everyone knows about it.

  Including Parrish. Who seems … pissed off?

  “You and Lumen are really a thing now?” he asks me dryly, waiting outside my last class of the day, just to make sure he can dig in with a few extra barbs before I leave with Danyella. I pause, hefting my book bag up on my shoulder and giving him a look.

  “What do you care if we are or we aren’t?” I quip back, trying to maneuver around him to head for the theater. Parrish blocks me off by slamming his palm into the lockers and I sigh. “Seriously? You’re the one who went on the attack this morning, tried to make a scene to humiliate me and lost. Get over it.”

  “Lost?” he asks with a caustic laugh. “You got dumped in front of the entire school. Explain to me how that’s a win for you.”

  “The whole school thinks you have a two inch long, perma-soft dick. Explain to me how that’s a win.” I go to duck under his arm, but then he slams the palm of his other hand into the locker, effectively caging me in place. “Nobody’s going to want to date you now.”

  “Good.” He stares down at me with a level of haughty arrogance that I’m only used to seeing on the faces of K-drama stars. “Maybe I can enjoy the rest of my high school career without girls glomming onto me at every available opportunity?”

  A laugh escapes me, one that I barely recognize. I’m not sure I even know who I am when I’m around Parrish—for good or bad. Probably for bad. For worse, really.

  “You act like you’re god’s gift to straight and bi girls everywhere. If that were true, then why was Lumen crying at the party, hmm?” When I try to duck down this time, Parrish leans in close to me, bending his elbows and pressing my body to the lockers with the weight of his own.

  People are staring. I mean, do you blame them? First, I’m a polyamorous, bisexual icon. Then we’re talking about threesomes. Then I’m getting dumped. Kissed by Lumen. Harassed by Parrish. He’s smiling at me now and, like I said, he never smiles. Not when he’s tattooing, not when he’s drawing, not when he’s playing video games. Unlike normal people, Parrish Vanguard only smiles when he’s about to do something cruel and awful.

  “Lumen was crying because I turned her down,” Parrish says with a loose shrug of his shoulders. Still smiling though. Still fucking smiling. He leans in close to me, and I hate the way my body goes haywire when it’s around his. We have metric fucktons of natural chemistry, that’s for sure. And I hate it. And I hate him. And I hate the way he smiles. And I hate the way he kissed my neck on Monday night, and I hate the way that I can’t seem to forget about the warmth of his lips against my skin. “How does that make you feel, knowing your new girlfriend was begging for it just one week ago?”

  “Well, based on the way she kissed me today, she isn’t begging for it now, is she?” I smile right back at him, flames racing across my skin, fingertips tingling. He just pisses me off so damn bad, I can’t explain it. Everything about him bothers me, like how he gets out of the shower and leaves his bedroom door open on purpose, just so that I have to stare at his bare torso. “What do you even want from me right now?” I continue, because it hasn’t escaped my notice that not only did Parrish track me down, but also that he seems weirdly preoccupied with the idea that Lumen and I might actually be into one another.

  “I want to know what game you’re playing at,” he breathes, and the intensity in his eyes scares the shit out of me. He isn’t smiling anymore. Instead, he’s staring at me like he could break me apart with his gaze alone, find every little hidden piece of me and memorize its shape. “You ruined my entire life, you know that? I had to wait until I was sixteen to spend the night at a friend’s place. Seventeen before I was allowed to drive to school by myself. I’m still not allowed to drive my car anywhere else.”

  “Again, not my fault,” I repeat, trying to ignore the way our uniforms are brushing up against one another, the fabric rustling in just such a way that it seems overly loud, like I can imagine each fiber tangling together and drawing us closer. “I was two, Parrish. Two. Tell me how much you can remember from age two. Now, leave me the fuck alone, I have plans tonight.”

  “All I have to do is send that pic of you and Lumen kissing to Tess, and you won’t be going anywhere,” he replies, cool as a cucumber even while he has the audacity to threaten me. “Then maybe you’d understand how it feels to be suffocated because of someone else’s mistake.”

  “You mean Saffron’s mistake?” I query back, using the righteous anger in me to crush down those pesky hormones. “You’re right. I’m sorry that you suffered because of a mentally ill and extremely sad woman. But don’t take it out on me: it’s petty and pathetic and it doesn’t suit you.” This time, when I go to elbow him out of my way, he leans in even closer.

  “You already ruined my life once, and here you are, out to do it all over again. Whatever this crap is that you’re pulling with Lumen, call it off. Break up in front of the school. Do it on
line, I don’t care. Just end it.”

  We stare at each other for so long that I can’t help but wonder what everyone else is thinking. From anyone else’s perspective, this probably looks like a romantic moment. Our faces are that freaking close.

  “Newsflash: you don’t get to tell me what to do. You might have Kimber so afraid that she won’t speak up when you trash her phone—which was really fucked up by the way—but not me. I don’t want my time at Whitehall to suck, but I’m not bowing down to some pouty rich boy who thinks he owns the school and everyone in it.”

  Parrish grits his teeth, but whatever it is that he was planning on saying goes out the window when Danyella appears on my left side. She looks decidedly ticked off.

  “Are you quite finished, Mr. Vanguard?” she asks, pulling her hot pink glasses down her nose to look at him. “Because as far as I’m concerned, your behavior is troubling and inappropriate. Did Dakota consent to having you push her into a bank of lockers?”

  He says nothing, standing back up and staring down at me with an intensity that’s hard to describe. It’s similar to the way he looked at me during the party, like I’m nothing and everything at the same time. An impossible dichotomy, that’s what his gaze is. I can’t even begin to pick it apart.

  Danyella grabs my arm and drags me away, casting an angry glare over her shoulder as she steers me toward the entrance to the parking garage.

  “You shouldn’t let him get away with things like that,” she chastises as I let out a huff and slide my phone from my pocket. God forbid I forget to call Tess. According to Kimber, if you miss one required check-in text or call, Tess will show up with Paul in tow and drag you back home for a lecture. “He’s a bully, Dakota.”

  “He sure does act like one sometimes,” I say with a sigh. Parrish’s motivations make zero sense to me. Why does he care if I kissed Lumen? Well, if Lumen kissed me. What’s it to him? Also … does that count as my second kiss? There was no tongue, but it was on the mouth. That counts, doesn’t it? “Mostly, I think he’s an insecure asshole who needs a spanking.”

  The look Danyella throws me is equal parts horror and fascination.

  “Not from me!” I blurt out, and I hope I look as aghast at the idea as I sound. “You think I’d actually touch that jerk’s ass?”

  “Flushed cheeks and parted lips are a physical indicator of attraction. You were certainly looking at him like you wanted to touch his ass,” Danyella says with a shrug, flipping her book bag open and rummaging around for her keys. “Also, there seemed to be a bit of a rash on your chest that wasn’t there earlier.”

  I narrow my eyes on her the way Parrish does, and then I want to kick myself for imitating him or even thinking about him at all.

  “I was angry,” I tell her, and she gives me a look, once again over the rim of her glasses which must be some sort of indicator that she’s annoyed. “He infuriates me like nobody I’ve ever met. I can’t explain it, but from the first second I laid eyes on him, I hated him.”

  Danyella continues to stare at me for a moment before letting out a regretful sigh and dumping her bag onto the pavement. She’s like Mary Poppins or something with all the weird shit she keeps in there: scissors, glue, bags of sequins, signed playbills from past theater performances, a curling iron, a single pink ballet slipper.

  “So you’re glad it happened then?” she clarifies as she digs through the items and then eventually finds her car keys shoved into the toe of the slipper.

  “Glad what happened?” I ask, still far too distracted for my own good.

  Danyella shovels the junk back into her bag and stands up, pointing at me with her keys.

  “The breakup,” she says, and it takes me several seconds to even remotely remember what she’s talking about. Oh. That. People have giving me sympathetic looks all day, but I don’t really know anyone here yet with the exceptions of Danyella, Lumen, Chasm, and Parrish.

  “We were never really dating, so we can’t really break up either,” I tell her after a quick look around to make sure nobody else is in hearing distance. “He just wanted to put on a show to humiliate me.”

  “He resents you,” Danyella agrees, and three tries later, she’s able to unstick the door on her side of the car. Mine was never really closed to begin with since the fabric of an old costume was stuck in the hinges. I carefully tug it free and deposit it into the back seat.

  “I guess,” I reply, wondering where we’re going with this. I’m excited to have made a friend so quickly, but I’m still wary. Chasm warned me about Whitehall; Maxx did; Danyella herself did. I can’t be expected to trust too easily, right? “He blames Tess’ overprotective nature on me, as if I chose to be kidnapped. I’m pretty sure he’s jealous, too. Like, he wants to be Tess’ bio kid the way I am.”

  “I think the two of you resent each other,” Danyella says, backing out of her space in the parking garage and maneuvering around all of the luxury cars driven by idiots who seem to be backing out without looking and also while going about ninety miles an hour.

  “Whatever resentment I feel toward Parrish, he brought on himself,” I say, shooting off a quick text to Tess and then another to Maxine. Tonight would be a good night to talk, seeing as neither Lumen nor Danyella care whether I speak to my ‘kidnappers’ or not. Maxie keeps saying she’s going to take me hiking, but we haven’t been able to work out a day where she’s free and one where I can escape Tess. I haven’t talked to my grandparents since the coffee shop either, and it’s starting to chip away at me on the inside.

  They’re all alone now, in that big house, and it kills me. It fucking kills me. I suck in a deep breath to banish the feelings and try to focus on my new friendship instead.

  “Regardless, it still takes two to tango,” Danyella replies, carefully checking both ways before exiting the parking garage. That two second delay causes the other cars piled up behind us to honk, and people start yelling out their windows for her to hurry up. I feel my eye twitch. Entitled brats.

  I turn in my seat to give her a look.

  “Whose side are you on anyway?” I ask as we pull onto the road heading toward the gate. On either side of us, huge willow trees sway in a gentle breeze and early spring sunshine turns the grassy grounds a brilliant emerald. I could almost be happy here if I hadn’t been ripped violently from the only home I’ve ever known and stuck in an ice castle with an aloof writer and a brooding stepbrother.

  “I try not to take sides in any situation,” she responds, pausing once again at the exit as other students honk behind us. From what I hear, there’s another party happening tonight that I’m beyond relieved to not be attending. “If I only told you what you wanted to hear, how would that help?”

  “You are far too even-tempered and level-headed for your own good,” I respond, absently opening my group text with Sally and Nevaeh. They’re going out to the lake with some of the boys from the high school, and I can’t help but feel a pang of FOMO. At the very least, they’ve both texted me back today which is a massive improvement over the past several weeks.

  “I hear that a lot actually.” Danyella grins as several cars zoom around us and leave us in the dust. That’s when I realize why everyone’s so ticked off with Danyella, and it’s not because she observes basic, common sense safety measures. She also drives like a grandma. We’re doing thirty in a forty-five zone right now. She notices me peeking at the speedometer and gives me a look. “What? Did you know that your odds of dying in a motor vehicle accident are one in a hundred? That’s two-thousand-five-hundred times more likely than being murdered by a serial killer.” There’s a long pause here as Danyella refocuses on the road. “Also, the car can’t go any faster than thirty miles an hour anyway.”

  “Your parents must really hate you,” I respond with a teasing smile, thinking of Saffron’s old car, the one that I plastered with bumper stickers. Then I think about the shiny new sportscar sitting in Tess’ four-car garage and my smile fades a bit at the edges. My affection isn’t easi
ly bought, apparently. I’m not sure if that makes me a spoiled brat, a pessimistic asshole, or something else entirely. “Also, this car must build a shit-ton of character.”

  “Oh, I’m straight blessed,” she breathes with a laugh, snorting as I reach down to fiddle with the radio. It’s stuck on a worship station and I’m this close to bleeding from the ears. But as I fiddle with the dial, I realize that ‘stuck’ really is the operative word here. I can’t change the music. “If you imagine the words ‘boy’ or ‘girl’ in place of ‘Jesus’ or ‘God’, then really, it just sounds like you’re listening to love songs.”

  “You get more interesting by the minute, you know that?” I relax back into the seat as we putter down the winding forest road toward Medina. The only negative about Danyella’s house is that it isn’t all that far from Tess’. Really, it’s within walking distance.

  “Well, my sister is being groomed to take over the company from my parents, and my brother is the black sheep of the family, so I do my best to fall somewhere in the middle of all that.”

  “What did your brother do to become the black sheep?” I ask, imagining all sorts of strange and twisted stories. Nobody ever said I was lacking in imagination.

  “He detoured a bit from the whole ‘CEO/startup/big tech route’ that my parents wanted.” Danyella shrugs and then flashes a grin. “He became a foot doctor.”

  And that right there, that’s a punchline to an exceptionally good joke.

  I knew I liked this chick.

  It takes us about thirty minutes longer to get back into Medina proper with Danyella behind the wheel as opposed to say, Chasm the speed demon or Doctor ‘I drive a Range Rover with my own name on a vanity license plate’ Paul. Seriously. It says “DCTR P” on it. Who does that? As a rule, I don’t trust people with vanity license plates.