Stolen Crush

by Stunich, C. M.

  “But I can bake pot brownies like a boss,” I reply smugly, and Chasm tosses over a skeptical look. “It’s true. The secret is in the butter.” Weirdly enough, it was Saffron who taught me to make the brownies for my grandmother’s arthritis. I redirect my attention back to the beer in my hands. It seems easier somehow than trying to maintain eye contact with Chasm. “I might not know a lot about my biological family, but I could tell you all about the Banks. I could tell you how my great-grandmother used to do my hair every morning before school, that she collected hotel soaps and shampoos and kept them in a big basket in her bathroom.” I look back up to see Chasm’s pretty face softening in my direction. Oh my god, be still my fucking heart! He’s so goddamn stunning, it isn’t fair. The universe must hate me. “Or I could tell you that my grandparents met in front of a waterfall during a hike, that they got married a week later, and that they’ve been married for forty years. History isn’t just about DNA; it’s about people, experiences, and memories.”

  “You’re a wise one, Little Sister,” he admits, almost grudgingly. I watch his full mouth curve around the joint as he takes a drag and then lets the smoke billow from his nostrils.

  “Gamsahabnida,” I reply with a little bow, hoping that it really means thank you in Korean the way I’m hoping it does. Chasm lets out a sharp laugh and then reaches over to ruffle up my hair, like a kid sister. The move is affectionate, but also sort of annoying, and it takes me a moment to pinpoint why. I don’t want him to think of me like a little sister, even if he calls me one. I’ve seen Chasm’s responses to Kimber panting after him; he isn’t receptive in the least. Probably the only girl in the world he isn’t receptive to.

  “Not bad. Is that what you’ve been doing, holed up in your room all week? Watching too many K-dramas. No wonder you’re so far behind in all your classes.” I elbow him, but all he does is laugh, smoking his joint and watching the sun set behind the lake. “Working Bitch” by Ashnikko starts to play, and I let out a small sound of excitement, hopping off the car and handing Chasm my drink. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks as I wait for the right part of the song.

  Pretty sure I spent about three weeks in my room learning this dance (before I moved to Washington, obviously).

  Chasm’s brows go up as I start to go through the moves, but he doesn’t seem unimpressed.

  “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” he asks as I keep dancing. There are parts of the song that don’t have any associated moves, but I fill the blank spaces with my own, ones that I made up when I learned the dance originally. When I’m done, I pluck the beer from his hand and chug it, panting and sweating just a bit.

  When I drop the bottle to my side and look at Chasm, I swear that there’s something different in the way he’s looking at me.

  “What?” I ask, but he just shrugs again, finishing the joint and dropping the butt to the ground. He crushes it with his foot and then, surprisingly, picks it up and slides it back in the tube. Both items are chucked in the trash just before he grabs my hand and drags me toward the edge of the lake.

  “Have y’all met Dakota?” he asks, lifting up my hand as I wave with the beer bottle in the other. “She learns dances for TikTok.”

  I snort and yank my arm from his grip.

  “No, I learn dances on the off-chance Ashnikko will see my video and want to go out with me.”

  “Ooooh,” Chasm whistles back, but he’s pretty much the only person listening. Everyone here already knows who I am, so they’ve checked out. “So you’re not just playing bisexual, you really are?”

  “Are you jealous?” I shoot back, although I feel like in retrospect I’m going to think that was a weird thing to say. Chasm stares at me like the same thought might’ve crossed his mind, but then he just snorts and mutters in Korean which drives me nuts. One, because I really, really, really want to know what he’s saying. Two, because a guy that speaks more than one language is hot. Down hormones, down! Bad Dakota. Bad. “No need to be. You weren’t on my radar regardless of sex.”

  “Harsh,” he murmurs, but then things are sort of weird because we’re staring at each other. I try to distract myself by making my way over to Lumen. She’s stripped off her dress and is wading into the lake in a white bikini top and pink boy shorts. Gotta give her credit for that, it’s cold as fuck in March in the PNW. Freezing, actually.

  “Join me!” she calls out, trying to wave me over, but there’s little to no chance that my ass is getting off the dock and into ice-cold water. I squat down beside her as she wades out and several of the boys gaze after her longingly. I’ve noticed several of them watching her with stark admiration, but then looking back at me with a hint of nervousness. They’re not sure if we’re actually going out or not. “Question,” Lumen asks after a minute, hopping up onto the dock next to me and shivering slightly. She’s one brave chick. “Are you into me?”

  That surprises me, so much so that I actually sit down on the deck, slipping my hands into the pockets of my blazer. I can feel the smooth surface of my phone as it buzzes with an incoming text. I’m still considering Lumen’s question when I slide it out to see who it’s from.

  Parrish.

  Tess is starting to panic. Call her. There’s a slight gap and then one last word. Now.

  I purse my lips as adrenaline floods me. That boy really knows how to tick me off. He knows that he’s being helpful, that I’ll have no choice but to call Tess, but that he can ‘command’ me to do it, then revel in watching me ‘obey’ him. Fucker. Idiot. Dickhead.

  “Give me just a second? I have to call my … Tess.” The word mom just doesn’t cut it with me and her. Lumen raises her brows at me.

  “My daddy’s a right-wing combat veteran with control issues and he doesn’t make me call home this much.”

  “Trauma,” I say with a small shrug, and then I hit dial on Tess’ number. She answers right away.

  “M—” Neither of us misses the wrong letter forming on the edge of her lips. She cuts it off quickly and redirects herself. “Dakota, how’s it going? Are you still at the Schaeffers’?”

  A sudden fear cuts through me as I imagine her waiting outside, wanting to see or talk to me.

  “Yep,” I reply carefully, unsure if I should just stop talking or try to make up an imagined activity. But then … even if I were really back at Danyella’s house, I wouldn’t tell Tess anything.

  “Do you mind if I speak to her?” Tess replies, her tone putting me on edge. There’s a primness to it that makes me want to scream. She is really and truly in charge of me, but just because she controls me, that doesn’t mean I’ll want a relationship with her later.

  With a sigh, I stand up and head over to where Danyella’s sitting on the grass, her shoes kicked off—I’ve noticed that she wears a different pair of shoes every day—and her ankles crossed. She glances up as I hand the phone over, fully aware that Tess can hear the music playing in the background. That doesn’t matter; we’re just as likely to be listening to music at Danyella’s place.

  “This is Danyella Schaeffer speaking,” she says, all formal and shit. I find myself grinning as she nods her head and replies diligently. “Of course, Ms. Vanguard.” Another pause. “Okay, thank you.” She hands the phone back to me.

  “Don’t forget to call me just before bed,” Tess reminds me as I roll my eyes to the sky.

  “Sure.”

  There’s a long pause there where I’m afraid she might say something horrible like I love you and I’ll be forced to sputter out a response. I give a hasty goodbye and hang up before she can get the chance. Danyella offers up a sympathetic look.

  “At least she cares.” She pats the grass beside her, and I sit down. We were supposed to discuss the, uh, medial preoptic brain thingy or … something, but I’d rather not so I decide not to remind Danyella.

  “Lumen asked me if I was really into her,” I admit, and Danyella turns to look at me, pushing her glasses up her nose and waiting for me to continue. My pho
ne buzzes again, and I feel my heart rate speed up as I lift it to check. It’s from Parrish, again.

  Whatever you said, you pissed her off. I’ll let you know if she leaves to head over there.

  I smile for a brief moment at the idea of Parrish looking out for me, and then frown hard after. Why would he let me know about Tess if he didn’t think I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be? I glance over my shoulder to see Chasm leaning against the trunk of a tree with his phone in his hand, head bent over the screen.

  “Well?” Danyella queries politely.

  “Just a minute. I need to check on something.” With a sigh, I push up to my feet and move over to stand beside him. It only takes him a second to look up, and I reach out to pluck the phone from his hand.

  Why would you even ask me that? is the most recent text from Parrish. The one before it, sent from Chasm’s phone says Do you like her?

  Her? Who’s her?

  “This isn’t about me, is it?” I ask as Chasm snatches the phone back with a slight curl of his lips. He looks like Parrish when he does that, and it bothers me. “It is about me. I knew it.”

  “This isn’t about you,” he snaps back, shoving his hair back from his forehead and giving me a look. With his fingers playing in his hair, I take note of the tattoos that stop at his wrist. It’s like, he only has them in places where they could be hidden easily. Coincidence? “I’ve got a crush that you don’t need to know about.”

  “Oh?” I ask, planting my hands on my hips. I can strike a fierce ass pose with my half-black and half-lime green hair. Gamer Girl Extraordinaire. “Why not? Because she is me?” I’m grinning as I ask, but not because I really think his crush is me. Not even.

  “She’s pretty much the exact opposite of you,” Chas says, lifting both of his dark brows up and playing with one of his lip rings with his tongue. “Good grades, athletic build, outdoor interests. Not some Ashnikko simp with a crappy Twitch channel.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I murmur, crossing my arms over my chest. “She’s all that, huh?”

  “She dresses up for parties,” he adds as I laugh. There’s this weird tightness in my chest that some might mistake for jealousy, but I have no idea where that would come from so I brush it off and keep smiling. “I like blondes so, she checks that box for sure.”

  He slides some gum from his pocket and pops a piece into his mouth, offering another up to me. I wave my hand to decline it, glancing over at Lumen. That would make sense, if he were crushing on her. Everyone else here is. That, and didn’t she climb into his car at the coffee shop like she’d been waiting for him? I remember, too, how bitter he seemed when I asked about Parrish at the party, and he told me that he was likely with Lumen.

  A lightbulb goes off and I let out a whistle.

  “What?” he asks, glancing over at me with those gorgeous amber eyes of his. Like, they’re brown, but they’re so light, as if someone placed a golden overlay atop his irises. When they catch the sun, ugh. Not fair how pretty he is.

  “Lumen wants to know if I’m into her. I think she might ask me out for real.” I clasp my hands together behind my back and turn to look at Chasm. “Unless you can think of a reason that I shouldn’t?”

  He stops chewing his gum for a moment and just stares at me. Our gazes lock and I start to feel sweat form on my lower back. What the hell is going on here? All I want to know is if he’s into Lumen or not, but he’s looking at me like I’ve asked something completely different.

  “A reason you shouldn’t?” he repeats, and then something else in Korean. And then, “shit, fuck it.”

  Before I know it, his hands are on my shoulders and he’s turning me around so that my back is to the trunk of the tree. As I turn my head to the side, all I can think is how his fingers look, leaving indents in the stiff fabric of my blazer. It feels suddenly hot out here, the sunlight long and sticky, leaving droplets of sweat to slide slow and agonizingly down my spine.

  Chasm leans in toward me and my breath escapes in a rush. My hands automatically go to his t-shirt, fisting in the fabric and feeling the tight, lean muscles underneath. He very carefully reaches up and touches two fingers to the side of my face, turning my head back so that I’m looking right at him.

  There’s nothing stopping me from kissing him, right? Like, he’s not my stepbrother. He isn’t my sister’s boyfriend. He’s just … a guy from Whitehall Academy.

  Also, how did I go from having kissed nobody to having kissed … well, it’s about to be three people, isn’t it?

  My lids feel suddenly heavy though, and my limbs relax as Chasm’s fingers grip my shoulder just a bit harder as his other hand slides across the curve of my waist. The fabric drags across my sticky skin, making me gasp. The sound hits Chasm’s lips and he lets out a small groan, moving ever closer to my mouth. I can almost taste him it seems like. I can certainly smell him, like peppermint ice cream with dark chocolate chips. Oh my god, I really do have a fetish for pretty scents.

  Our lips brush—and I mean just barely brush—like a kiss of the wind before it’s gone, and Chasm is pulling back with a look of horror on his face. His lip curls like he’s just remembered who I am—his best friend’s hated stepsister—and not Lumen or whoever else his blonde, good-grade getting crush is.

  “Fuck, what did I almost just do?” he murmurs as I shove him back and he stumbles, dragging his arm across his mouth like he’s lost his damn mind. He’s made out with—and probably screwed—dozens of girls and somehow, I’m the one that he just can’t stomach to touch?

  “Why does everyone keep telling me how nice you are?” I blurt out, fisting my hands in my skirt as I struggle to pull in a deep breath. Calm, Dakota, stay calm. Only I’m wildly and irrationally annoyed. “You’re a useless manwhore who copies his best friend because he doesn’t know who he is on the inside.”

  Chasm whistles at me again, but it’s most definitely not in appreciation this time. Somehow, I feel like I see the front of his pants tented before he turns away from me with a scowl of disgust. “Here we go again,” he throws over his shoulder, scanning the horizon like he’s looking for the nearest escape route. “Keep throwing insults, Little Sister. See how far that gets you with me: fucking nowhere.”

  And then he’s storming across the grass, and I’m left holding in a scream.

  That fucker! I think, gritting my teeth briefly before forcing out an exhale. Why am I doing this, letting him get to me? I let Parrish get to me, too, and look how well that’s going. I’ve got to stay strong here.

  As I watch in disbelief, Chasm makes his way over to the drunkest girl he can find and starts hitting on her.

  It sounds bad, but just wait. Just wait. I was mad, too.

  My jaw drops with disgust, and I practically stumble over to where Lumen’s sitting, on a towel beside Danyella.

  “Is he really doing that?” I whisper, realizing that I have yet to answer Lumen’s question. Am I into her? Based on my reactions as of late, I seem to be into everybody. Parrish. Chasm. Maxx. Ugh. I probably shouldn’t trust myself in the romance or sex department for a while; clearly my judgment is muddled.

  “Doing what?” Lumen asks, her gaze following my outstretched hand. “Oh, Chas? He always hits on the drunkest girl at the party. Usually takes her home, too. I’d say nothing shady was going on because no one’s ever said anything, but he is one of the most popular guys at Whitehall …”

  “I’ve talked to him about it in the past.” Danyella tosses her braids over her shoulder and gives me a look. “And Lumen’s right: I’ve asked some of the girls but none of them have a bad word to say about him. Half the school seems to be in love with the guy.”

  I frown hard, my stomach weak with the idea that Chasm could be taking advantage of drunk girls. He always brags about how many girls he’s done it with—in my bed, in particular. I frown harder.

  “Yeah, okay, you are not into me,” Lumen says with a long sigh, glancing over at me in an assessing sort of way. “Too bad. You’re cute, too.”<
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  “How do you know I’m not?” I retort back, and she laughs, her blond hair wet and hanging in clumps around her shoulders. She gathers it together and wrings it out while I watch. I cannot even believe she dunked herself in icy Washington water. That’s cray.

  “Because you’re into Chasm,” she tells me, and I scoff.

  “I’m into Parrish,” I blurt, and then immediately regret it as both girls turn to look at me. Wait. Did I just say that aloud? Did I mean that?

  “Oh,” Lumen says, and then she frowns, too. “Well, I’m sorry then.” She gives me a pitying look that I’ll likely remember later. “That sucks.”

  “Why?” I ask as Chasm starts to lead the girl up the hill, toward a house I hadn’t really paid much attention to now. Ah. Figures. One of the students here must live on this property. It looks like a park, but it could be part of some fancy-pants yard.

  “Because being into Parrish is a lot worse than being into Chasm.”

  I glance back at Lumen but Danyella’s nodding like she agrees wholeheartedly.

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell them both, and then I’m up and running in the direction that Chasm just went. This piece of work! I think, imagining him taking some drunk girl back to her room and … doing something. I won’t let myself delve into visions of what could be, intent just on stopping it. And yelling at him. And then being disappointed in myself for even considering kissing a guy like this.

  There’s a loose cluster of trees that guard the house from the lake, morphing into the thickness of woods behind it. I slow my run briefly, blinking in surprise at the sight. This place looks oddly familiar to me, like I might’ve been here before.

  Like I might’ve been chased through here before.

  “I knew it,” I breathe, looking up at the canopy above my head. It’s about sunset now, and I was last here in full dark, but I can feel it somehow. This is where I woke up that night. I wasn’t sleepwalking, I think with a jolt of fear, moving along a stone path that leads toward what must be the back door of the house.