by Hazel Grace
“Nope,” I deadpan.
“I’m surprised you are,” Colson conveys. “Even thinking about it, I should say.” He glances over at Natalie. “He used to say that he...well, I guess it doesn’t matter now, right?”
Jace’s mom sends a confused look toward Gavin, wanting to know more.
“Jace,” I venture out. “What colleges are you looking to apply to?” He rattles off some, telling me why he’d like to go there. Colson nods approvingly, but when Gavin’s leg reaches across the table to touch my calf, a soft gasp protrudes from my lips.
Colson reaches under the table and clasps my hand, squeezing it in reassurance that he’s here, but I’m reliving every moment of similar situations in my head.
Them together in the same school and my being in between them. The same assholes that ran this school and brought whomever they wanted to their knees.
And just like the old me that used to roam these halls, letting them call the shots.
Ten years ago
“Hey!” Colson jogs toward me across the baseball field in all his sweaty, muscled glory. It looks like slow motion in my head, but I’m going to blame it on lack of sleep and focus on the many ways I want to kill Gavin for the thirty pounds I’m going to gain from all the ice cream I’ve been inhaling since seeing him dance with every girl last week. “You doing okay?”
I hug myself, rejecting the way he makes my heart skip.
Seriously, no.
I am not going to have a crush on my ex-boyfriend’s best friend who has done nothing but terrorize me but at the same time makes me want to take a chance on him.
I’m standing at second base, watching Coach Gordon talk to Heather at home plate because I need something else to concentrate on other than the hot pain in my ass standing in front of me.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
I know why he’s here, everyone saw it. They witnessed the attempt of Gavin trying to humiliate me at the dance last week. How he flaunted his new girl of the week on his arm and tried to forgive me for what I did.
Confused? Yeah, I was too.
Apparently, Gavin was telling everyone that I was cheating on him with Colson. And when Colson and I disappeared then showed back up in the gym one right after the other, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.
It spread like wildfire through the gym, Sawyer the Whore. The virgin who quickly turned into the slut.
“I took care of it,” Colson vouches, crossing his arms across his chest.
I keep my focus impeded from his face. “Took care of what?” He doesn’t answer me, which causes me to look at him.
His face says it all.
Geezus, God.
“He’s lucky he’ll only be sporting a bruise and not a broken arm,” Colson states.
My jaw tightens, and I want to take my glove and smack him upside the head with it.
“Do you want a baseball scholarship?” I snap. “If you keep fucking with Gavin, you’re not going to get one.”
He shrugs. “It’ll be fine.” His soft brown eyes look at me innocently like this was just a normal thing.
“No, it won’t be fine. I don’t need you to fight for my honor, Hayes.”
“We’re back to the ‘Hayes’ bit, Bases?”
“You have to stop this,” I snap. “You’re going to make me the subject of more gossip and I don’t want people talking about me anymore.”
“Then he needs to shut his fucking mouth.”
“You didn’t get in trouble, did you?” The corners of his lips lift skyward, and his eyes deadlock with mine.
“Would you be worried if I did?” I readjust my glove, to distract myself from the arrogant, sexy jerk in front of me.
“Just don’t want you to get suspended from a game. Coach says that some scouts are coming out.”
“No, we wouldn’t want that.”He edges his body closer to mine. “Thanks for worrying about me.”
“I didn’t say I was worried.” I need to make this very clear that there is a line between Colson and I, a very fine one.
No more trouble, no more boys, no more drama. I want to get through the rest of my senior year without turmoil in my life.
And that’s the exact definition of the guy next to me.
“Alright, gold digger, thanks for being worried about my future multi-million baseball career then,” he chortles.
I scoff. “I’m not getting anything out of it.”
“I’d love for you to get something out of it, Bases, but you won’t give me the time of day.” Coach Gordon’s voice calls practice over, and the girls start toward the dugout to grab their things.
“I’ll pass.” I begin to round him when he halts me in mid step with his next word.
“Why?” Goosebumps jab into my arms, even though the day is warm. I wish I could appreciate his words, but they’re fabrications.
He’s on a mission to throw my name on a list of yet another girl he’s messed around with.
“Why what?” My voice is shaky at best.
“Why won’t you let me take you out?” My eyes narrow on the playing field dirt.
He’s serious?
I mean, we can make a list, but we’ll be here awhile, and I have them all registered and recorded in my brain.
“Why would I want to be a name on your door?” I ask.
He furrows his brows. “You mean bedpost?”
“See.” I begin walking again, but he steps in my way for the second time. “I already danced with you, Colson, we’re not about to do it again on the baseball field.”
“I’m not going to fuck you on the first date, Bases.”
I don’t know if I should be relieved or insulted but thinking about that sentence, right in front of him, is making my face turn bright red.
I round his body and continue walking. “You’re not going to do that, period, with me.”
“But Gavin can?” I recoil outward and begin to stride quicker toward the dugout.
Sometimes, I wish I’d never tried out for softball.
All this could have been avoided, except Colson was in my History class.
Maybe I should transfer schools and start over as the girl who tucks her chin into her chest and never makes eye contact with anyone.
I can be known as the mute girl.
“Sawyer.” My real name off his lips warms my already hot skin. It feels intimate, and I can’t help the stumble that my heart does in my chest. His tone serene and soothing, and I want to keep hearing it on repeat.
But that would be the dumbest thing in the world that you could wish for.
“I won’t touch you,” he continues as he trails behind me. “Shit, I won’t even look at you, if you don’t want me to. Let me take you out, one time. If you enjoy yourself, I’ll let you decide if you want to do it again.”
“I don’t want to go on a date,” I mumble so low that I don’t know if he can hear me. “It’s too...”
“Then we won’t call it that.” He’s closer now, I can smell the grass stains on his sweats and his scent, engulfing me into agreeing to this. “It’s hanging out. We’ll hang out.”
I weigh out my options, even though there are only two. Yes, and have no regrets. Or no, and live my life wondering what it would feel like to experience Colson Hayes alone for one night.
“Just nod,” he resumes. “You don’t even have to say the word ‘yes.’ Because if you hate it, then we can say I misunderstood and you didn’t agree to it.”
I snort out a small chuckle and stop walking. We probably look stupid as hell, standing on the pitcher’s mound while everyone is leaving the field.
Then I spot Gavin, studying us out here in the open. He doesn’t even bother to look away and my eyes turn into slits.
I don’t want anything of his on me, by me. I hate Gavin and, yes, I know that’s a strong word, but he’s shown his true colors. He played his role and goal plain as day while I was too stupid to see what was right in front of me.
Colson’s che
st touches my back, to protect or comfort, I don’t care. His “kindness” or male pride is going to make things worse.
“You’re touching me.” He immediately erases our lack of space.
“No touching. Any other rules?” I want to face him while I speak, but I’m too busy daring Gavin to do something. To start more shit with me because I’ve already reached my limit.
“I didn’t agree to anything, Hayes.”
He rounds me, blocking my view of his ex-best friend. “I won’t stop until you hang out with me.”
“I see you everyday in class and at practice.” I wave a hand between us. “Here, we just hung out.”
His mouth sets in a hard line. “I’m serious.”
“Are you?” I raise a brow. “Listen, just because I’m now known as the whore of Freemont High, doesn’t mean I’m going to—”
“Don’t say that,” he seizes.
I shrug. “It’s what everyone’s been saying.”
“Everyone is a fucking idiot, hasn’t that been made clear to you by now?”
I let out a harsh breath, wanting this conversation to be over. “I just want to be left alone.”
“That’s a mistake,” he deadpans.
I roll my eyes. “Why?”
“Because if I hadn’t left you alone, you would’ve ended up with that douchebag.”
“He still would’ve cheated, and that’s your friend.”
“Not anymore.” He looms closer, taking away my next inhale of air. “What are the other rules? I just want to make sure I don’t break one.”
“You hate me,” I blurt. “Nothing good would come out of this for me.”
He knits his brows. “Hate you? I wouldn’t be playing by your rules if I hated you, Bases. I wouldn’t have asked you to dance or held your hand in my truck. I would’ve let Mandy beat your ass in the hallways at school, and I wouldn’t keep talking about kissing you because there are fifty other girls who would gladly take your place to do it.”
I point my index finger at him. “Exactly, go ask one of them.”
“Bases,” he warns. “I’m not fucking around. How can I prove it to you?”
“You can stop.”
“I’m not going to stop until—”
“You see, that pushy ass thing is what annoys me, Hayes. And here you are, asking me to ‘hang out.’”
“Because you’re judging me on what everyone around here says about me.”
“Which is?”
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Do you see me making out with anyone in the hallways of school since you’ve been here? Have you seen anyone on my damn arm?”
True.
He talks a big game, the school says he’s a player, but I haven’t seen him do any of the things they’ve mentioned. He bats away girls like flies.
“All you’d do is try to kiss me, check me out, and—“
“I don’t know if I can’t check you out,” he confesses, letting his sights wander shamelessly over my white T-shirt and gray shorts. “Seems to be an obsession of mine.”
“Purposely trying to get a rise out of me,” I stress.
Like making me blush furiously like an idiot.
“Okay, Bases. Anything else?”
I shake my head. “I’ll let you know if I do.”
“You know where to find me.” He slowly raises a brow. “So...is that a ‘yes’ to hanging out?”
“No.”
He lets out a heavy sigh and crosses his arms. “Why now?”
“Haven’t you been listening?” Apparently, he has a selective memory if he doesn’t hear what he wants to.
“Yeah but nothing was legit.”
I roll my eyes. “Goodbye, Colson.” I make a move to walk.
“Bases.” I stop again.
Stop stopping.
“I’m serious, I want to take you out, on your terms,” he says. “I won’t stop.” I focus on my breathing.
This is all a game to get back at Gavin, and I can’t lose myself to him because I will.
“Then you’re going to be waiting a long time.” Then I stride away as quick as I can before my stupid body stops again at the sound of his voice.
Ten years ago
Principle McMahon leans on the edge of her desk, peering down at me with jealousy in her brown eyes. Her tight red dress curves her hips, displaying every bend and slew of her body.
She’s called me here to talk about my grades, but they’re perfect, and I’m not a dumbass to know the real reason I’m in her office.
I just need her to verbally say it.
Through my high school career, I’ve done my time around the block. The clingy girl with self-esteem issues and fear of rejection. The popular idol who is in denial that they could be overlooked or not wanting to be dealt with. Or the dreamer, physically reminding herself of you after you’re gone. On notebooks, hands, dare I say, scrapbooks?
But the individual that stands in front of me is none of those things. Emma McMahon is a woman—prideful, beautiful, and accomplished. Awards of being at the top of her class when she graduated hangs on her office walls. Her taste for men are ones she can control. She’s well-travelled, materialistic, and hungry.
Hungry for boys my age to relive her glory days of high school. To still have the power in a relationship, if you’d call it that, so she can call the shots on when they begin and end.
Unfortunately, right now, that boy is me.
“How’s studying going for your finals?” she asks calmly, folding her hands together.
I peer up at her from my chair. “Good.”
“And baseball?”
“Even better.”
She gives me a weak smile. “Did you send in your college applications?”
“I did.”
She shifts her weight at my vague answers and clears her throat. “Well, we haven’t had much time to...discuss on how things are going at home.”
I furrow my brows. “Have we ever?”
She nods. “Briefly.”
“I think the only thing I’ve stated was that my mom is a bitch.”
Emma bites the inside of her lip and shakes her head. She’s getting irritated, I’m tired of being here already, and this needs to end.
“Colson,” Emma sighs. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?”
I extend my hand in the air. “Please, do. I’m missing out on my Chemistry review for those finals you seem so concerned about.”
She locks her jaw, not used to my being so short with her. That I never treated her like any of the girls here at school.
That I could give two shits about being here.
Principle McMahon is a lost cause for me, a brief dalliance that’s now over. Sawyer messed that up, unintentionally with her no-bullshit attitude toward me and the simple fact that I can’t drag her out of my mind.
And I can’t seem to haul my ass back into this office to fuck the head of the school anymore.
“The year’s almost over and since you’ll be going to college soon,” Emma proceeds, adjusting one of her earrings. “It means our time together is limited.”
“Spit out what you’d like to say,” I cut in, leaning forward in my seat. “I’m not into riddles today.”
“You haven’t visited my office in quite some time.”
“Was I supposed to?”
Her nostrils flare as she straightens. “If you didn’t want to sleep together anymore, Colson, you’re supposed to communicate that to the other person. I know you’re young, but that’s how things go.”
I sprawl out in the chair, extending my legs and crossing them at my ankles. “We were just fucking, Principle McMahon.”
“Regardless, I still need to know.”
I quirk a brow. “What is it you need me to say exactly?”
She rubs her palms on her thighs, getting more fidgety by the second. “Are you seeing someone else?”
“No,” I deadpan. Emma starts pacing the floor in front of her desk, twiddling her fingers.
“You heard wrong, I’m not dating anyone.”
“Did I?” She lets out a mirthless laugh. “For a boy who likes to fuck fast and rough, you sure are going in the wrong direction to satisfy your needs and wants.”
“My needs and wants are something I’ll worry about.”
A soft snort sounds from her lips. “Are they?” Her fingers drag her dress up her creamy thighs, attempting to entice me into what she called me into her office for. “I can handle your abrasive needs not some little girl who just lost her virginity. You need a woman, not a high school teen.”
She draws her dress over her ass, then her hips, exposing panties made of red lace.
My eyes zero in on the fabric covering her pussy, which encourages her to lean against her desk and extend her legs for a better look.
“When’s the last time you were fucked?” Emma quizzes, considering me closely. “I don’t mind you getting your dick wet at parties to succumb an urge. But when I call you into my office, along with an open door policy, I expect it to be taken advantage of.”
Emma takes a step toward me, continuing until she is standing over me.
“I want to fuck you,” she asserts, hovering over one of my legs with hers on either side. “I want to hear you growl in my ears as you thrust your cock deep inside me.” She hums, biting her lower lip. “God, I want to make you come.”
My breathing quickens, I crave to hear those words, live those actions, just not with her.
There’s another female whose eyes and mouth drive me crazy with need and desire. Whose naked body I want crushed against mine while I listen to her whisper my name as my cock thrusts inside her.
To make her completely mine.
My hands grip the sides of the black leather chair to stay put from Emma’s remarks.
Normally, I would fuck to forget, to get passed whatever emotions were trying to break free so I could silence them again. But with Sawyer, I don’t want to forget, I want to know.
I dream to know what she sounds like when I kiss her neck or when my finger circles her wet clit as she writhes in pleasure. It occupies more time than it should, but I don’t want it to flee. It’s all she’ll let me have at this moment.
