by S. K. Rose
Stoney’s eyes narrow. “I’ll pass on the message. The little punk.”
I let out a little gasp and start counting on my fingers. “One, two, three...oh my god, seven words you spoke in one sentence.” I poke his massive bicep with a giggle. “I knew you’d warm up to me.”
Flaring his nostrils, he walks away without another word. “Love you, too, Stoney!” I shout after him.
Finding a planter nearby, I dump the laced drink with a quick apology to the plant. I finish off my drink and make my way back to the crowded bar. An intoxicated girl wearing the most revealing dress in existence attempts to weave her way around me. Her drink spills across my white top, but she continues to barrel through the crowd without a second look back. I hiss as the icy cold liquid sinks through the material and splashes across the twins.
Sloppy bitch.
With a sigh, I lift myself onto a barstool. When a bartender is in earshot, I wave toward my breasts and ask for some napkins. She nods and reaches under the bar and sets a pile before me with a sympathetic smile.
“I’m not drunk enough for this shit,” I mutter as I try to pat myself dry. Thank god she was drinking something clear at least.
“I could help with that,” a voice shouts over the music.
I stop mid pat, hand hovering over my soaking tits with a droll expression. “I bet you’d like that.”
He laughs. “I meant the drunk bit. Let me buy you a drink.”
Now that’s how you offer a girl a drink.
“That would be nice.” I flash him a smile, but his eyes don’t meet mine. “Up here, buddy.”
His eyebrows arch, but he still doesn’t look up. “Sorry, are those…what I think they are?”
Glancing down, I see that my bra is on complete display through my wet shirt. I forgot I put on my Pokémon underwear set this morning. The cotton material is half white and half red, making my tits look like two large poké balls.
I smile proudly and give the balls a good shimmy. “The Voltorbs needed a night out, too.”
He laughs, and his gaze finally meets mine. Dark skin, dark eyes, and a wolfish smile that says he wants to eat my nerdy ass right up. Let’s play, handsome.
“I don’t know what you just said, but you’re cute as fuck,” he whispers in my ear. I twirl a curl with my finger and watch as he flags down the bartender and orders a line of shots for us.
That’s right, I’m pretty damn fucking cute. Kitten cute. Panda cute. Red Panda cute. If Kane doesn’t want all this cuteness then it’s my duty to bestow it on someone who does.
We down our shots, and with my body buzzing with alcohol and excitement, I let the hot stranger lead me to the dance floor. I’m the exact amount of drunk that I can still walk and talk properly but don’t give a fuck about my terrible dancing. After a couple of songs, we move to the patio: flushed and laughing, I lean against a pole and catch my breath.
It’s a good night to mend a broken heart; I might even take this lucky bastard ho—
Kane?
My eyes zero in on the smiling jerk who’s sitting on a lounger with some girl’s leg draped across his lap. I close my eyes and think of happy things.
Unicorns. My video games. Candy. Sleeping in. Art. My video games.
My eyes snap open, but a murderous vine still coils its way around my heart. He dropped me like I was a sack of potatoes and now he’s here all smug with some skank?
“You okay?” My handsome suitor looks over me with a worried look. Hackles raised, fists clenched, I probably look like a tiger ready to pounce.
“Fine.” I snatch the drink out of his hand and down half of it in one gulp.
“Damn girl, these are strong, take it easy.”
Some tiny part of me realizes he’s right; I’m already feeling it, and I need to start slowing down. But I don’t care. All I care about is the slut draped all over my nerd like a sloth in heat.
Sloth? Fuck, I’m drunk.
“Ex-boyfriend?” I turn to my dance partner who’s following the burning lasers from my eyes.
My upper lip lifts into a snarl. “He wishes. No, we went on one date.”
“One date? Then why do you look like he killed your cat?”
“Look, do you want to help me make him jealous or not?”
He looks as if he considers it and nods. “Fuck it, why not?”
“Fuck yeah!” My hand shoots up, and he gives me a high five with a laugh.
Taking him by the hand, I lead him to the edge of the dance floor that is only a couple of feet away from Kane and his floozy.
With my ass grinding on his groin, I lift my arms and move seductively to the pounding beat. I keep my gaze forward and refuse to let them slide back over to Kane. Let his eyes draw to me like a moth to a flame. Let him eat his choice to ghost me.
I’m a seductress, a siren, a succubus.
I’m sexy as fuck, and he will rue the day.
RUE THE FUCKING DAY!
29
Kane
“Obviously I wanted the Kors that matched my cute new flats, but what was I supposed to do? Say no to a free purse? As if...”
The chick I bought a drink for an hour ago continues to drone on about some shopping spree with her “besties,” popping her gum every few seconds. I’ve half a mind to pull out my pocket knife and slide it across my throat just to escape this date.
Scarlett ruined me.
I used to be able to tolerate girls who keep small dogs in their purses or wear more makeup than a clown. Sure, these cookie cutter chicks annoyed me, but I figured I would have to get used to it sooner or later—that’s how they come packaged these days right? Shallow and boring—then I met Scarlett.
The girl who could run circles around me in video games, who was more than happy to talk books or movie theories.
The girl who looked as comfortable in a cocktail dress as she did in ripped jeans.
The girl who embraced the unconventional and who broke all the rules in the process.
She was one of a kind, and I lost her to some grungy little punk. I should be thrilled; my internship starts next month, and my dreams of becoming a game designer are closer than ever.
But my sullen heart aches for the girl who dared to be different.
God, the booze is sinking me even lower; this was such a bad idea. Tara here was an even worse idea. I just need to man up and give Scarlett a call.
Or...maybe talk to her in person, considering she’s about twenty steps away on the dance floor. My face pinches as I watch her grinding against some guy.
Her arms are flailing, head lolling. I’m actually concerned she might be having a seizure. She’s trashed, that much is clear. Is that...her bra I’m seeing through her shirt? Jesus, Freckles, and I thought I was the mess.
I call her name, and she turns to me with bleary eyes. Grabbing her date, she wobbles her way toward me.
This...is not going to end well.
“Oh hey.” She hiccups. “Didn’t see you there.” Her hand goes to her hip, and she swats a flyaway hair out of her eyes.
I give her a pointed look. We locked eyes not ten seconds ago, but I’ll play her game. “It’s really good to see you.” Her black skirt is riding dangerously high on her hips, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult not to stare at her creamy thighs.
She rolls her eyes. “That’s ‘cause I’m a red panda, you ass.”
“Did she just say she’s a red panda?” Tara whispers from beside me.
I shrug, and Scarlett’s eyes narrow on her. “You’re the sloppy sloth that did this!” She points to her wet see-through shirt.
“Gotta catch ‘em all?” I ask, her bright red bra drawing my eyes like a magnet.
Her pretty face twists in a scowl. “Yeah, I’m gonna catch them all.” She grabs the collar of her date and yanks him in hard for a sloppy kiss.
When she’s done, he steps back and raises both his hands. “Ma always warned me white girls are crazy. You’re hot, but you’re not that hot.” He lo
oks to me with sympathy. “Good luck, man.”
“Pussy!” she screams at his back.
“Scarlett, maybe we should just talk in the morning when we’re both a little more sober.”
“Yeah? So you can just ignore me again?”
Ouch. She’s got me there. I wasn’t ready to have her dump me over the phone, so I figured just avoiding her would be easier. Little did I know that I would run into drunk Scarlett, who is downright scary.
“Look. You have your little boyfriend. I have Tara—”
“It’s actually Sara,” the blonde clarifies in her annoying valley girl accent that makes it sound like she has a dick in her mouth.
Don’t care.
“I have Sara. What’s there to even talk about?” I snap.
“My boyfriend? I just met that guy like ten minutes ago.”
“No, not him.” I feel the frustration building just having to talk about it. “The guy you were all over at the competition, the one with the piercings and shit.” I motion at my face to make a point.
“Wren?” She laughs.
“Oh, I’m glad you find this funny,” I snarl.
“We never dated!” she scoffs, wavering a little on her feet. “I’m not even his type—he’s into crazy chicks and crazy dicks for that matter.” She giggles at her little rhyme.
“You looked awfully happy to see your ‘friend’ when you ran into his arms.”
“That was the first time I got to see him IRL, you stupid shithead,” her voice rises with each word.
“Well, I—I didn’t know that!” I yell with a stutter.
“You never fucking asked!” She slams right back.
“I’m going to have to ask you both to leave.” I have no idea where the hell he came from, but a huge bald guy wearing the club’s logo is standing beside us now.
“Stoney!” Scarlett exclaims, laying her head gently on his bicep.
“I’m not with them,” Sara pipes up as she gets to her feet and disappears into the crowd.
We’re guided through the club and out to the street. The bodyguard sets Scarlett on a bench and returns to me, placing his hand on my shoulder. “I called an Uber. Can you make sure she gets home safe?”
I look her over with a wary look but nod to the bouncer. His hand tightens on my shoulder until it throbs with pain. “See that you do.” He gives me a dark look before going back to the club. Scary motherfucker that one. When the black SUV with an Uber sticker in the window rolls up, I help Scarlett into the backseat and sit myself in the passenger seat. I give the driver directions to her dorm and relax against the headrest. My head is spinning. I’m pretty drunk but not nearly as bad as the lush snoring in the backseat.
Her words keep filtering back to the front of my cloudy mind. She wasn’t dating the punk? Did I jump to conclusions like a chump or is she just trying to cover her ass? Shit, why do I even care? From the very beginning, it’s been a complicated mess. Two raw substances that become volatile when mixed together. It’s not supposed to be this hard…
The vehicle jerks to a stop, and I thank the driver. I wake up a groggy Scarlett and help her out of the car. Before I can ask the driver to wait, the tires squeal, and he’s gone. With a sigh, I wrap Scarlett’s arm around my neck and begin the short walk to her dorm. Thankfully, she’s lucid enough to tell me which door number is hers.
When we arrive at her room, it’s another four minutes of her giggling as she roots through her purse to find a set of keys. Plucking them from her fingers, I unlock the door and flip on the light. Bolting to the left, she throws open a second door and retching sounds echo from the small bathroom.
“Shit.” I rush in and grab a fistful of her strawberry curls that are dangerously close to getting puked on. Keeping her hair up and away from the toilet bowl, I rub my free hand up and down her spine as she empties her stomach. When her feeble hand reaches up to flush, I help her get to her feet. White knuckled, she washes her face in the sink and rinses with mouthwash. I follow close behind as she stumbles her way out of the bathroom, strips down to her Pokémon underwear, and lets her body drop face first on the bed.
With a chuckle, I lift her upper body further onto the bed and swing her legs onto the mattress, so they aren’t hanging off the edge. In her sleep, she wiggles on the mattress, turning onto her side and tucking in her knees to get comfortable. Her makeup is smeared, hair disheveled, but I can’t help but think how she’s the most beautiful mess I’ve ever seen.
Brushing hair out of her face, I kiss her clammy forehead and turn to leave. Her hand catches mine, and when I turn, she looks up at me with bloodshot eyes.
“Stay with me?”
Shaking her hand away, I continue toward the door. When I look back, her eyes are welling with tears. Shaking my head, I give her a reassuring smile as I click off the light.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper into the dark. After kicking off my shoes and tugging off my shirt, I crawl into bed behind her. With a mewling sound, she scoots backwards until her back is flush against my chest.
Tucking my face into her neck and wrapping an arm around her waist, I close my eyes and fall asleep before I can convince myself that this is a bad idea.
“Oooh, somebody made poor decisions last night.” A thick Spanish accent wakes me from my deep sleep. Sitting up, I blink into the bright light until my vision sharpens, and I see a curvy girl with thick black hair and a vicious smile looking down at me.
“Mornin’.’” I yawn. I glance to my right and find red curls splayed across blue bedding and last night comes back to me like a freight train. I fall back with a groan. “Shit.”
“You better get going while she’s passed out. Morning Scarlett can be a little...snappy.”
“How’s that different than any other time of the day?”
She throws her head back and laughs. “I like you, estofón.”
“You must be Vanessa.”
“And you must be the imbécil who broke my girl’s heart.”
I open my mouth to respond, but snap it shut when I feel Scarlett stir beside me. Her eyes flutter open, and she smiles when her eyes land on me—for about two seconds—and then her face twists in fury.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” She lifts the blanket and peeks under. “More importantly, where the hell are my clothes? Did you drug me?”
“I think he drugged you, pendeja. Slap him,” Nessa urges, her eyes lit with excitement as if drama fuels her soul.
I blanch at the accusation. “We got kicked out of the club. I brought you home because you were beyond drunk, and you asked me to stay with you. Try to remember because that’s all that happened.”
Her face scrunches as she reaches into her mind for memories of last night. I figure she must remember something good when her eyes soften, and her claws retract.
“You held my hair back when I was puking...”
I give a halfhearted shrug. “Of course.”
“Awwwwwww, Dios mio, just make up already,” Nessa squeals as she holds her clasped hands to her chest.
“Shut up,” Scarlett screeches as she throws a pillow at her roommate. “Could we maybe get a little privacy here?”
“No way. This is like my very own CW show. I’ll be the hot token minority character. Now, I demand that somebody slaps somebody!”
“Vanessa…” Scarlett warns.
“Fine. I need coffee anyway.” She grabs her purse from a hook and saunters away. She gives one look back at us with her hand on the door handle. “Don’t have sex on my bed.”
Scarlett cringes when Nessa slams the door behind her. “Ugh. Headache.”
“I think you drank your weight in alcohol.”
“Feels like it.” She groans as she rubs her temple. “I made an ass out of myself last night, didn’t I?”
“Not more of an ass than I’ve been for the past few weeks,” I admit.
“Because you thought...I was with Wren?” Hurt and confusion ring out in her voice.
Leaving the warmth of the blanket, I scoot to the edge of the bed. Looking anywhere but her sad eyes, I try to explain. “No...Yes. Maybe?” I sigh. “No. I think...maybe I wanted to believe you were sleeping with him.”
“Wait—why?!”
“I knew the end of the competition meant we would finally be free to figure out us, and this insane pull I’ve felt toward you from day one. What I wasn’t willing to admit, even to myself, is that it scared the shit out of me…”
“I don’t understand.” Her voice is so small, unbefitting her normal confident demeanor.
I flip toward her in exasperation. “Don’t you see it? You’re gorgeous, funny, smart as hell, and a freaking gamer. Just getting to see your smile makes my whole damn day. You’re perfect for me, Freckles.”
“You didn’t call me back because...I’m perfect?” Her voice is thick with irritation now.
“What happens if we break up? How could I ever find someone who could compare? I would be ruined, Scarlett. If I give you my heart, you could destroy me, and that scares the fuck out of me.”
Wrapping the blanket around her body, she jumps to her feet, a storm brewing across her features. “You broke my heart because you’re a scared little bitch?”
“Scarlett…”
“Oh, I’m so perfect?” she spits. “How about you let me down from this pedestal you’ve got me chained to? I’m riddled with flaws and daddy issues. I don’t even know how to be in a functional relationship, and if you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a bit of a temper. So stop using me as an excuse. If you live in fear of the future, you’ll never learn to take a chance on what matters.”
I tug on my shirt and turn to face her. “Don’t put this all on me. Who was pushing whom away first? I know you’ve been treated like shit in the past, and I’m not innocent in that. I know you guard your heart like a dragon with gold, but you can’t project everything onto me. I’ve had no hidden agenda. From our first date, all I wanted was to get to know you, to be near you. You blew up like a grenade, destroying everything before we had a chance to know where it was going.”
