Stolen Crush

by Stunich, C. M.

  As we pull into Danyella’s driveway, I’m struck by the absolute absurdity of this neighborhood. Her house is nice, granted, but it looks similar to the fancy McMansion that Nevaeh’s family lived in back home. The only real difference here is price: Nevaeh’s family paid about half a million for their home while Danyella’s family paid about five million. I know, because I looked it up on Zillow.

  “And here we are,” she says, using sheer brute force to shove the driver’s side door of her car open. It groans in protest as we both climb out and she shuts the garage door behind us, giving me a tight-lipped smile. “The neighbors signed a petition that says I can’t park my car in the driveway because it devalues the other houses in the neighborhood.”

  I just stare at her for a moment, giving a nice, slow, sarcastic blink.

  “God, I hate rich people,” I murmur as she laughs and uses a keypad next to the door to let us in.

  I’ve already spotted Lumen’s BMW outside, so I’m not surprised when we walk into the kitchen to find her bent over the counter, scrolling on her phone.

  “I told you to ride with me,” she says playfully, standing up and turning around to lean her butt against the center island. “Danyella drives like a ninety-year-old woman.”

  “You know I’m capped out at thirty miles an hour,” Danyella responds mechanically, like she’s regurgitated this line about a thousand times already. “Don’t be jealous that my parents are instilling the ideals of hard work and self-sacrifice into me.”

  Lumen scoffs and tosses her blond hair, her skirt riding dangerously high up her thighs as she lounges in the Schaeffers’ kitchen as if she’s as comfortable here as Chasm is at the Vanguard’s. I’m still not entirely sure what Danyella and Lumen’s relationship is really like. From what I’ve heard, they’ve known each other since kindergarten, but they don’t exactly hang out on the grounds of Whitehall.

  “Rumor has it that Parrish assaulted you in the hall on your way out,” Lumen continues as Danyella opens the fridge and offers me a drink. It looks like a supermarket drink aisle threw up in there. Must be a rich people thing, to have a half-dozen of every flavor and brand and type of beverage ever created. I choose a bottle of red Gatorade while she hands Lumen a Fiji water without even asking.

  “He tried,” I say with a long-suffering sigh. “He seems pissed about the …” I can’t even say it without blushing. My boobs are already beet red beneath my uniform, I’m sure.

  “The kiss?” Lumen guesses, and then she laughs. The sound is like tinkling bells or the beating of fairy wings or something. She’s almost too perfect to be real. The smile she gives me is mysterious, almost coquettish. “Don’t tell me that was your first?”

  That beet red color my body seems so fond of entertaining spreads across my breasts, cheeks, and forehead. Luckily, Lumen and Danyella can’t see the worst of it.

  “No, it most definitely wasn’t,” I respond slowly, thinking about Parrish. Again. My mind seems to circle back to thoughts of him in an unhealthy way. I should be working to build friendships, not daydreaming about a lazy, entitled asshole. I clear my throat, but Lumen’s laughing anyway. Danyella gives us both a weird look.

  “This is why I think dating is better left for after college,” she says, rolling her eyes to the ceiling with a sigh. Her words from that first day come filtering back to me, the ones she said about Lumen. “I wouldn’t call her a mean girl or anything, but I also wouldn’t confess my deepest secrets to her, you know?”

  I keep that in mind. Frankly, I’m surprised that they’re friends at all. Danyella is introspective and intellectual while Lumen is outgoing and gregarious. Then again, Lumen is apparently neck-and-neck with Chasm for the top spot in the academy. For juniors anyway. Danyella, as far as I know, is the top-ranking sophomore. When the time comes that my grades are posted online for everyone to see (a practice that I don’t agree with), I won’t be looking. A ranking of dead last would not surprise me.

  “After college?” Lumen asks, opening a cabinet and sourcing some liquor. She unscrews the top without even asking and starts making drinks, much to Danyella’s irritation. But she doesn’t stop her friend from doing it, so I figure she knows her parents well-enough to know that we’ll get away with this. What would Tess think, if she knew? I imagine I wouldn’t be allowed to come over here ever again.

  I bite my lip—imitating Maxx yet again. Ugh. I force myself to stop.

  “Yes, after college. Education is far more important than hormones and meaningless sex.” Danyella leans back against the cabinets, this look of challenge on her face that makes me wonder if this isn’t a common occurrence for the two of them, this verbal sparring.

  Lumen snorts a laugh, splashing juice into the cups and then shoving one across the counter toward me. She takes the other for herself and offers nothing to Danyella.

  “Are we going somewhere later?” I ask, and Danyella lifts a brow at me.

  “Why would you think that?” she replies, glancing over at Lumen.

  “Because I know you drink—I saw you at the party—but you’re not drinking now. So you’re driving. Where are we going?” My heart swells at the idea of escaping the school and that awful house. I was about to freeze to death inside of the walls of the fucking ice cavern. I curl my hands around the glass and drag it closer. Bottoms up, I guess, downing the entire drink in one go before launching Tetris on my phone and resuming my previous game. “What?” I ask, glancing up to see the both of them staring at me.

  “You could be a detective,” Danyella finally says with a smile, just before Lumen grabs my arm and gapes at my phone screen.

  “You’re playing this with a single finger, and you have a better score than I’ve ever gotten.” She gives me a look. “And you downed four shots in a single gulp. Are you human?”

  That was four shots? Oops.

  “Chasm and some of his friends are hanging out by the lake. We figured we’d join them. Mostly so I can work on my sketchbook.” Danyella flips open the clasp on her bookbag and pulls out an art book, tossing it onto the counter as Lumen gives her an exasperated look.

  “You’re probably wondering why we’re even friends,” she starts as I finally top out on Tetris and set my phone on the counter. “I can assure you, we were introduced at too young of an age to quit each other, social and political differences aside.”

  “And there are many,” Danyella assures me, giving Lumen a once-over. “I’m sure you’ll spot many of them before the evening’s over.” She pushes up from the wall and tucks her sketchbook under one arm. “We all know you’re going to change and do your makeup, so hurry it up. I’ve got set designs to work on.”

  Lumen gives an exaggerated roll of her eyes and pours herself another drink.

  “What’s the point of coming over if I don’t dress up? There’s absolutely zero chance of my dad seeing what I’ll wear.” She grabs her bag and flounces off in the direction of a staircase as Danyella sighs and rubs at her forehead.

  “I’d apologize for her in advance, but you’ll see what I mean. She can’t help it, I think, considering her parents.” Danyella gives me a look, purses her lips, and then points at my phone. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I’m almost afraid to ask.

  Seattle is weird. Medina is weirder. Rich people are the weirdest.

  “Call your mom before she panics; I’ve seen Tess’ freak-outs in the past, and I’d like to avoid ever going through that again.” Danyella sits down on a stool at the breakfast bar and slips off her shoes, exchanging them for a pair that she pulls out of her backpack. I’ve only seen pictures of the girl’s room so far, but it’s quite clear that she’s got a shoe fetish.

  “You’ve seen Tess freak out?” I ask, thinking about the incident at the school. Was Danyella there? My brain was so scrambled that day that I can’t even remember.

  But that’s not what Danyella’s referring to, apparently.

  “At a birthday party when I was twelve,” Danyella admits, cring
ing a bit. “Parrish was supposed to call Tess to check in and he forget. She drove all the way over to the house to yell at him.”

  Oh. Ouch. No wonder Parrish is so pissed at me. He blames me for Tess’ bullshit. It’s a fucked-up way to think, but I know it’s exactly how it feels.

  “Then she got there and saw the sleepover was coed and Parrish was banned from them for … ever, I think. Yeah, I don’t think I saw him at a party or anything until he started sneaking out.”

  I just stare back at Danyella, but I don’t know how to respond to that. How stifling. It makes me feel stifled. Am I only here because Tess is trying really, really hard with me? Or because she’d rather not have me around? I have no idea.

  “How did he get so popular?” I ask, knowing even as I ask the question that it’s cringey as fuck. Popular? What does that even mean? Everyone at Whitehall is obsessed with Parrish and his friends, Chasm included. Apparently, Chasm is ‘nice’, but how does that explain Parrish’s academy fame?

  Danyella just stares at me and then sighs dramatically.

  “You really aren’t from around here, are you?” she asks, but I have no idea how to answer that, so I say nothing. “Parrish is the richest student at Whitehall, that’s why. Everyone is sucking up to him, obviously. That, and all their parents want to get under Paul’s knife.”

  “That’s …” I just pause and shake my head. “Oh my god, rich people suck …”

  Danyella nods, like that’s a fact she’s well aware of, but then shrugs.

  “You’re one of us now, with a famous author for a mother. Did she tell you about the multi-million-dollar contract she just signed to sell the film rights of Abducted Under a Noonday Sun?”

  Now I’m not just staring at Danyella, I’m gaping. Tess … sold the film rights … for the book that’s about me? And she didn’t think to mention it?

  I drag the bottle of liquor close and turn it so I can see the label. It looks to be a very, very old bottle of Scotch. It’s probably stupid expensive too. I lift it to my lips and chug some, gasping and sticking out my tongue at the sour taste.

  “Tess didn’t tell you, did she?” Danyella asks, holding out her phone for me to take. There it is right there, an article about my bio mom. I would’ve seen it, had I not put myself on a self-imposed social media/news break. “I’m sure she had a good reason.”

  It’s an empty sentiment, and we both know it, but I appreciate it anyway.

  “Aren’t you getting changed?” Lumen asks, appearing in a red party dress with so many sparkles it could light up the Fourth of July. “Here, zip me up.”

  She turns around and pulls her gently curled blond hair over her shoulder.

  “I’ll wear my uniform,” I say, yanking her zipper into place and then taking another swig from the bottle. “Let’s go.”

  Because if Chasm is at the hangout, then Parrish probably is, too.

  And I’m not excited about that at all.

  I can hear the music before we turn the corner and find ourselves at the edge of a lake. “Up” by Cardi B is blasting out the speakers of someone’s car. Danyella pulls up beside the row of vehicles and we climb out. There aren’t many people here, maybe ten in total, including us, but there’s one person I spot right away.

  “If it isn’t Pokémon pants,” Chasm says, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the hood of his car. “Wouldn’t be a proper hang without you.”

  I close the back door on Danyella’s car, bumping it with my hip to keep it that way. It clicks open regardless, and I sigh.

  “Where’s your first-in-command?” I quip, moving over to stand beside him in my Whitehall uniform. I might not be as dressed-up as Lumen, but it’s infinitely better than old pj pants and an anime hoodie.

  “Simp for Parrish?” he questions, raking that amber gaze over me and clicking his tongue in distaste. “Sorry to disappoint you, Little Sister, but he isn’t here. Seems somebody pissed him off after school.” My cheeks blaze as Chasm turns away, narrowing his eyes at one of his friends as the guy chugs a bottle of liquor and tosses it into the lake. My lip curls in distaste, but before I can even say anything, Chasm calls him out. “Dude, what the fuck? I swim in that lake during the summer, you dick. Don’t throw garbage in there.”

  He turns back to me as I tuck my hands in my blazer pockets and raise an eyebrow at Lumen. She’s already got a drink in hand, body working to the song as Danyella takes a seat and pulls out her sketchbook. She’s got colored pencils, and it looks like she’s going to draw the lake. Interesting.

  “So, Kwang-seon,” I start, and Chasm gives me a look, his own brow raised in surprise. “I hear you’re not as shitty a person as you seem. Everyone at Whitehall seems to think that you’re—” I almost choke on the next word, forcing it out the same way that Tess says Dakota—“charming.”

  “Is that the word on the town?” he asks, staring me down in just such a way that I feel like fidgeting. No, Dakota, no. Bad girl. Don’t let him see you squirm. I stare right back at him instead, and he laughs. “Everyone who attends Whitehall is part of a powerful or influential family. Someday, I might need a favor. Might as well make friends now so I can be rich later.”

  “That’s … sort of a depressing reason to be nice,” I reply, eying him up and down. See? He really is a dick. He’s not actually some sort of angel the way Lumen painted him. “I don’t ever recall you trying to be nice to me. The first time we met, you shoved me into a swimming pool.” Chasm just continues to stare at me, the corner of his lip quirking up.

  “I’m always willing to make exceptions,” he says finally, giving a loose shrug of his shoulders. “Why should I be nice to you anyway? You stole my room. Where am I supposed to take girls now?”

  “How about home?” I quip back, but he just shakes his head like that isn’t even an option. Why he never wants to go home is a mystery I have yet to solve, but it’s also not something I’m willing to press. Who knows what his living situation is? Just because he’s rich, that doesn’t mean he has a good homelife.

  I decide to take a seat on the hood beside him, hopping up on the car as he lets out a small whistle.

  “Really? This is a car, not a bench. Move your ass, Little Sister.”

  “Why? You’re leaning on it,” I challenge, and surprisingly, he laughs at me, turning his attention back to the small group of his friends gathered near the lake. “By the way, can I call you Kwang-seon?”

  “No.”

  I elbow him in the side, and he flashes a look my way.

  “Why not? It’s a pretty name.”

  “Regardless, you can still only call me Chasm.”

  “Then you can start calling me ‘Dakota’ and forget all about the ‘Little Sister’ bit.” I start to slide off the hood, intending on leaving Chasm in the dust so I can join Lumen instead. He surprises me by putting a hand on my arm, dragging reluctant goose bumps from my suddenly heated skin.

  “Call me Kwang-seon if you want, but don’t be surprised if I don’t answer. You want a beer or something?” I shrug in response to his question and Chasm saunters off, dressed in dark jeans and a red zip-up hoodie over a white t-shirt. He’s undeniably gorgeous, that much is a fact, even if he seems to be nice to everyone but me.

  “So, what did you mean about offering to tutor me?” I ask when he comes back and hands a beer out to me. His fingers burn mine when we touch, but he doesn’t seem to notice, so I pretend that I don’t either.

  “You blew your chance at that this morning,” he tells me, chugging his drink as I roll the bottle between my suddenly sweaty palms.

  “I’m sorry I said that,” I reply, and he stops mid-drink to stare at me like I’ve grown horns. “I’m not usually like that. It’s just something about Parrish that infuriates me.” Chasm looks briefly pleased and then supremely irritated again, all in the span of a single breath. “You and I don’t have to butt heads all the time, you know?”

  “Maybe if you’re real nice to me tonight, I’ll change my mi
nd?” he purrs, giving me another look, one that’s dark and heavy with innuendo. I don’t pay it much notice; Chasm McKenna looks at a lot of girls like that. Even still, I can’t help the hot flush that takes over my face and boobs. Luckily, he can only see one of those things.

  “McKenna is an interesting last name,” I posit instead, trying to change the subject before I give myself away. “Irish?”

  “My dad is white as fuck,” he tells me, removing a small tube from his back pocket. He pops the top and a pre-rolled joint slides out. “Irish, sure, I guess. My mom was his superior at their company’s South Korean branch.” I scoot a bit closer to Chasm to listen and he frowns at me.

  “What? I’m always game for a good love story.”

  “Love story? Whoever said this was a love story? My mom got fired for dating my dad, wound up pregnant and living with my grandmother, and then died from preeclampsia. Does that sound like a love story to you?”

  I just stare back at him, too surprised to formulate a response for a moment.

  “Preeclampsia … that’s related to pregnancy, right?” I ask, and Chasm nods.

  “I was gonna ask you about your family history, but then I remembered you don’t know any of it.”

  A frown pulls my lips down.

  “Was that necessary?” I query back, my mind drifting to Tess and her sketchy behavior when I asked about my birth father. Chasm is being a dick right now, but he isn’t wrong about what he’s saying. I know precisely zero about one half of my lineage. As for the other half, I know only that Tess’ parents are both dead and that she doesn’t have any other family outside of the Vanguards. That’s about it. “If you don’t want to talk about your past or your mother, that’s okay, but don’t be a dick to me just because you’re hurting.”

  This time, when I go to leave, Chasm grabs my wrist.

  “Stay. I’ll chill out a little when I smoke this,” he tells me, and I settle back in, watching him a bit warily from the corner of my eye. He lights the joint, takes a drag and then offers it out to me, but I decline. “Oh, that’s right? You’re a good girl; you don’t smoke.”