My Enemy Next Door

by Nicole London

  “Over the what?”

  “I mean, I can tell he really likes you.”

  “Oh.” I blush.

  “You should invite him over for dinner sometime. Any guy your dad doesn’t immediately hate is a winner in my book,” she said. Then she lowers her voice. “I have a good feeling about him, but as always be careful.”

  “We’re really not having sex.”

  Laughing, she places her hand on my shoulder. “Would you like me to re-show you the banana-condom trick just in case you start thinking about it?”

  “No.” Once was bad enough.

  “I thought so.” She hugs me. “I trust you to make good decisions—well, minus the breaking into the school pool thing you did.” She steps into the hallway. “Make sure you’re back by nine-thirty and make sure you leave some time in your day to hang out with your other best friend, Genevieve.”

  I say okay and wait until she walks away. My mom has never said it, but she doesn’t like Genevieve. She just tolerates here and always masks her dislike with a simple, “I can’t pick all your friends.”

  An hour later, Jace is ringing the doorbell downstairs with a box of my favorite brownies (flowers are so cliché). My dad beats me to the door, and he wastes twenty minutes of precious date time by asking Jace to give him a hand with our dishwasher.

  When he’s finally done, Jace takes my hand and walks me to his pickup truck right outside. He opens the door for me like always, and he manages to drive for a full five minutes before he realizes I’m glaring at him.

  “What?” He has the audacity to smile. “Is something wrong?”

  “You told my parents about us? Behind my back?”

  “I did.” He laughs. “Clearly.”

  “But why?”

  “Because you still hadn’t done it.”

  “I was planning to, Jace. I was just giving it time.”

  “It’s been three months.” He looked over at me as we approach a red light. “Plus, if everyone at school knows that we’re practically together, then your parents should probably know, too.”

  “Did you tell your parents?”

  “I did.”

  “When?”

  “Months ago,” he says, and I don’t bother asking anything else. I’ve spoken to his mother after detention on numerous occasions, and she’s always been extremely nice to me. She’s always whispered to him when she thought I couldn’t hear, “Finally, a girl I actually like.”

  “I think I deserve an apology for this sudden and utter betrayal,” I say, trying to keep a straight face. “In the law books, there’s a name for what you did: blindsiding the witness.”

  “No, it’d be turning over all applicable evidence for a fair and balanced trial. But good try, Counselor Ryan.”

  “You’ve been watching more legal movies?”

  “I have.” He smiles. “How about a sundae for your brownies instead of an apology?”

  “Accepted.”

  He drives up the street to Blue Harbor Creamery and parks in the first space. As he’s asking me what I want on my sundae, I stop dead in my tracks.

  I blink a few times, to make sure that what I’m seeing is real. Genevieve is sitting in a booth in the back—rubbing her hands all over her boyfriend’s chest. She’s laughing as all her other “friends” take seats on the other side of her.

  “She told me she was grounded,” I whisper to Jace. “I asked her to come over and help me with my make-up and she...” I sigh. “She lied to me like it was nothing. Again.”

  Jace grabs my hand and whispers into my ear. “Do you want to leave?”

  “Not yet.” I pull out my phone and send Genevieve a text message.

  ME: Hey! Just wanted to say sorry to hear about you getting grounded over your boyfriend. How are you staying busy tonight?”

  I stare at her as she looks at her phone, as she taps the screen and texts me right back.

  GENEVIEVE: Thanks, bestie! I’m currently watching Netflix and drinking coffee. It’s not too bad. PS—Did you get the notes I sent from your final debate practices last week? I tried to take a clearer pic this time!

  I feel my blood boiling as I read over the last line in her message. She has no idea that I know she really hasn’t been taking my debate practice notes, and that she left me weeks behind without a single care.

  Livid, I walk away from Jace and storm over to where Genevieve’s booth is.

  “You are a lying, conniving, manipulative bitch,” I say. “I can’t believe I was ever friends with you.”

  “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” She stands to her feet and moves closer to me. “What’s gotten into you, Court?”

  “Courtney. My friends call me Court, so please refrain from using that term with me.”

  “Oh?” She smiles, crossing her arms as her friends break out in Ohhs and Ahhhs behind her. “I see you’ve been reading one too many of your ‘I want to be a lawyer’ books today, and you’re using it on me. How very cute. Juvenile, but cute.” She steps closer and leans forward, whispering under her breath. “Stop whatever this charade is right now, or I’ll tell everyone here how much of a slut you are and how you gave it up to Sam after only knowing him for a few weeks. No guy wants some girl who was fucked the way you were, and who knows how many other guys you’ve been with since that night. I can guarantee that Jace will drop you fast as hell once I tell him that the goodie-goodie he thinks he’s dating is a world-class—”

  “Fuck you, Genevieve.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think them through and the shop becomes completely silent. “FUCK. YOU.”

  I step past her and look at all her so-called “friends,” the people I only tolerated because she swore to me that they were “cool.”

  “Just a fair warning to all of you,” I said. “If you think Genevieve will be loyal, you’re sadly mistaken. I was her best friend—supposedly, and she’s been lying to me since day one.”

  Then I step back and look Genevieve right into her deceiving hazel eyes. “If Mr. Thompson had threatened me with a suspension or expulsion, would you have owned up to everything that happened that night?”

  She doesn’t answer, and the look on her face tells me everything I need to know. And I also know that if I don’t handle this now, I’ll never be able to claim that I care about seeing people get the true justice they deserve.

  “You have until Monday to tell Mr. Thompson you were involved in the pool incident. You need to tell him that you baited me into it at the last minute because your so-called friends were driving drunk and you wanted someone sober to be there.” I cross my arms. “You’re also going to tell him that you were too chicken shit to call 9-1-1, and if it had been left up to you, you would’ve left Brynn there dead that night and made up some story about how he got there.”

  Brynn, who is sitting on the edge of the booth, gasps and stands to his feet. He slams his glass onto the table and storms out of the café.

  “And after you get done doing that, I never want to hear from you again,” I say.

  “Oh, you’ll never have to worry about hearing from me again.” She hisses. “But what makes you think that I’m going to do anything you say? That I’m going to own up to any of these lies you’re accusing me of?”

  “Because if you don’t, I’ll just tell Mr. Thompson everything else you’ve done this year, and if necessary, I’ll tell him what you did last year as well.”

  She raises her eyebrow, calling my bluff.

  “Like this year, how the school’s fire alarm has gone off six times. How it conveniently goes off anytime there’s a pop quiz in your French class, one you haven’t studied for.”

  Her cheeks redden.

  “Or how you and your college friends are the ones who spiked the punch at the homecoming party that got half of all the football players sick. The one I missed out on because I was at home, grounded because of you. Then again, I guess I could take the personal route and tell your current college boyfriend that he’s not your only college boyfriend. I co
uld walk down that road with you as well.”

  Her boyfriend’s jaw drops, and she whispers, “Please stop. Now. I get it.”

  “Those are just a few things I can think of off the top of my head. I’ll have a list of twenty by Monday if you haven’t spoken to Mr. Thompson.” I turn away from her for what I hope will be the last time, ignoring the stunned silence from all the patrons.

  Jace wraps his arm around my shoulders and walks me out of the café. Before helping me into his truck, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me until I can’t breathe.

  “Good job,” he whispers. “I think you’re going to make one hell of a lawyer someday.”

  “You heard what I said?”

  “Everyone heard what you said.” He kisses me. “She’s had that shit coming for a very long time.”

  “Did you hear any of what she said to me?”

  He shook his head.

  “Okay.” I let out a breath, completely relieved. “Good.” I turn away to get into the truck, but he blocks me and spins me around to face him again.

  “What did she say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Courtney.” He trails my lips with his finger. “What did she say?”

  “You’ll dump me if I tell you.”

  “I highly doubt that.” He smiles. “Tell me.”

  I swallow. “If we ever have sex, you won’t be my first. I did it with this other guy over the summer, but I didn’t like it, and I didn’t want him to do it. Genevieve and I made a pact to lose our V-cards the same night, but she backed out without telling me, so...She promised not to tell anyone that I was a slut since I gave it up to a guy I barely knew. She threatened to tell you.”

  He blinks.

  “Are you going to take me back home now?”

  “No.” A smile spreads across his face. “We’re going to finish this date now.”

  “None of what I said bothers you?”

  He shakes his head. “Only the part about you having to deal with a terrible-ass best friend.”

  “Oh...So, if we ever have sex—” I pause. “Wait. Are you still a virgin?”

  He looks as if he’s trying to hold back a laugh. “No, Courtney. I’m not.”

  “How many girls have you—”

  My sentence ends on his lips, and my hands find their way to his hair—just like they always do whenever he starts to kiss me for what feels like forever.

  When he finally pulls away from my mouth, he whispers, “If we ever have sex, it’ll be my first time doing it with someone I care about.” He kisses me one last time and opens the car door for me. “Come on. We’ve only got one hour and forty-five-minutes left before your nine-thirty curfew.”

  E.N.E.M.Y.

  E is for ERROR, AGAIN

  (It also stands for everything, which is what Jace Kennedy is to me.)

  Courtney: Back Then

  ON MONDAY AFTERNOON, I find myself summoned to the principal’s office for the second time in my high school career.

  Typical future felon behavior...

  “Miss Ryan?” The secretary says to me as soon as I come downstairs. “Mr. Thompson is ready for you.”

  I take a deep breath and walk into his office.

  “Well, well, well,” he says, taking off his reading glasses. “We meet again, Christina Courtney Ryan. This will be quick.”

  I take a seat, hoping Genevieve told him everything.

  “Genevieve Parker has told me everything,” he says. “A lot of things I’m still trying to process. And well, to be frank with you, I’m just in shock. Utter shock.” He pulls out a yellow pad and begins to write. “As of today, your detention sentence is suspended, and I’ll be sure this doesn’t appear on your permanent record. You’re free to go to all your debate team practices now.”

  “Debate season is over, Mr. Thompson.”

  “Oh. Well, stay out of trouble for the rest of the year and the summer so you won’t be in danger of missing any of them during your senior year.”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “What’s going to happen to Genevieve? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.’

  “I’m not sure,” he says, handing me the yellow clearance slip. “Miss Parker is officially enrolled at Boulder Boarding School as of this morning, so that’s between her and her parents.”

  I gasp. That school is one of the strictest in the country. It’s three hours away, and they don’t allow cell-phones. Even if I wanted to contact her, I wouldn’t be able to.

  “Any other questions, Miss Ryan?”

  “Um, yeah. Is Mr. Kennedy free from detention, too? There’s no point is you letting me out if you don’t consider letting him out as well.”

  He gives me a blank stare. “Go enjoy your freedom, Miss Ryan. Hurry up before I change my mind.”

  He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I leave his office and head down to room 221. No one is inside. Not even the supervisor.

  I rush out to the parking lot and see Jace standing in front of his pick-up truck. He looks as if he’s been waiting for me.

  “Hey.” He pulls me into his arms. “Did Mr. Thompson let you off, too?”

  “He did.”

  “So, we have what? A semester and a half to enjoy together before I graduate?”

  “Yeah.” I ignore the g-word. I don’t like to consider the thought of him ever leaving me behind in Blue Harbor.

  “Where do you want to go on our first day out of prison?”

  “My house.”

  “Okay.” He shrugs and helps me into the truck. When he cranks the engine, he speeds out of the parking lot and far away from Room 221. Pulling his truck onto Main Street, he looks over at me. “Why do you want to be a lawyer again?”

  “Well, I’ve always studied the criminal justice system in the history books, but mainly because of my dad,” I say. “He got into an accident at his job several years ago, and the insurance company refused to pay for it. He was in and out of courtrooms for two years, all while dealing with physical therapy, but in the end, he didn’t get much at all. To this day he says that if he’d had a good lawyer, things would’ve ended much differently.”

  “Very touching.” He smiles. “I can understand that.”

  “Why do you want to be an actor again?” I mock his question.

  “Because I’m sexy as fuck. That’s about as deep as it gets.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh. “I appreciate your honesty.”

  “I once wanted to be a weatherman.” He clasps my hand behind the gearshift. “But that was before I realized how full of shit they all were.”

  “I think acting suits you better.”

  “Lately, I’m not so sure.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because my girlfriend has repeatedly told me that she’s hell-bent on marrying a lawyer when she gets older.”

  I blush. “I’ve only said that twice.”

  “But you’ve said it.” He parks in front of my house. “Then again, if you’re willing to compromise and maybe consider being with a guy who plays a lawyer on television, my feelings will be less hurt.”

  Laughing, I lean over and kiss his lips. “I’ll consider it.” I glance at my house, then back at Jace. “My parents are out of town for the next three days.”

  “Okay?” He raises his eyebrow.

  “So, maybe instead of walking me to the door and going home, you can come inside?”

  He stares at me as if I’ve just spoken Spanish.

  “Maybe I can finally show you my room...For like a couple of hours?”

  His lips curve into a smile, but he still doesn’t say anything.

  “And um. I’m assuming you have your own, but I bought some condoms. I bought the biggest size they had because anytime we’re rolling around in the back of your truck and you place my hand on it, it feels huge...But, if the ones I bought are too big, you can just go get the rights ones, like now.”

  “You’re saying you want to have sex with me?” he asks, his eyes on mine.

 
I nod.

  “Then you can just say, I want to have sex with you.”

  “You don’t think that sounds cliché?”

  “I think that sounds perfect.”

  As if he knows that I’m not going to say it like that—ever, he gets out of the car and opens the door for me. He walks with me into my house and up the steps to my room.

  Instead of immediately pulling me onto the bed and climbing on top of me like Sam did, he pulls me close and runs his fingers through my hair.

  “Are you sure?” he asks softly. “We don’t have to do this until you’re ready.”

  “I’ve been planning this for weeks...I even bought lingerie from the mall.”

  He laughs and kisses my forehead. “I just need to hear you say it.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “Okay.” He walks over to the wall and hits the lights. Then he takes my hand and walks me over to the bed.

  Grabbing the hem of my shirt, he slowly pulls it over my head—stopping once he catches sight of my black lace bra.

  He trails his fingers against the straps, and then he unzips my pants.

  Pushing them down to the floor, he presses a kiss against the red bow on my panties.

  “Get on the bed,” he whispers, stepping out of his pants.

  I move past him and oblige, watching as he pulls off his shirt—revealing the set of six-pack abs I’ve touched every day in his backseat.

  He takes a condom from his wallet and climbs in bed on top of me. Brushing my hair out of my face, he kisses me softly, whispering, “Courtney?”

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you back.” I lean up and press my lips against his.

  He unclasps the front of my bra and trails his tongue all the way down my stomach—making me blush all over. Gently pulling my panties down my legs, he presses a kiss against each of my thighs before putting on a condom.

  Returning to his position on top of me, he clasps both my hands and slowly enters me inch by inch.

  I shut my eyes and brace for pain, but this isn’t painful at all. Him being inside of me, him kissing me every step of the way, is total pleasure. Beyond total pleasure.

  “Ah...Jace...” My eyes flutter open, and I notice he’s staring at me intently.