by Nina Lincoln
“What happened?” I ask, distracted by my goal in the face of this little nugget of gossip.
I knew Hayden and Colt were friends, but I’m surprised to hear Nate was part of their group. Now I need to know just how deep all of this goes.
“Nothing really,” he says, looking away, “just a girl.”
Of course, it’s over a girl. Do all these dicks think with their damn dicks?
“Please tell me it wasn’t Sarah,” I say dryly.
He chuckles and shakes his head, “No, in the eighth grade. Portia Landry. She was hot, for an eighth-grader anyway.”
Chuckling stupidly, I urge him to continue. Despite everything, the thought of Colt fighting over another girl that isn’t me stings. Gah.
“Well, it’s stupid, really. But we were all best friends, including P. Until we all decided we liked her and made her choose. She didn’t like that much. At first, she refused, but eventually, she settled on Colt, and everything exploded.”
“What happened after that?”
He shrugs and glances across the fire, “Nothing, we hated each other, and Colt got the girl. They broke up freshman year.”
“Hm, how come I’ve never heard of this chick? Did she transfer?”
I’m not gonna lie - knowing he dated the bitch makes a kernel of hate grow in my heart for her. Which is stupid, but we’ve established that I need help, for god’s sake.
“Nope, she disappeared,” he says simply.
“Wh-what?” My heart stutters in my chest. What the fuck?
“Yeah, over the summer before sophomore year. It was a huge deal, search parties, and stuff.”
“Wow, that’s terrible,” I breathe.
“I gotta piss,” he mutters, and I watch him walk away, startled by his abrupt departure. Maybe he liked Portia more than he’s letting on. Does Colt?
Swinging my head back his way, I find he’s still staring at me intently until he switches his glare to Nate as he walks by, and for the first time, I wonder if his interest in me isn’t in direct relation to Hayden and Nate and some unhealthy competition.
Fuck.
They supposedly fought over Portia. I’ve seen Sarah with both Hayden and Colt. Is it coincidental that all three of them have approached me in one way or another?
Moving away from the fire, I spy George and sidle up to him, gratified when he beams a smile at me.
“Hey Finn, what’s up?”
“Nothing. Hey George, how long have you known Colt?”
“Uh oh,” he chuckles uncomfortably. “What’s this about?”
“I don’t know, did you know Portia?”
George pales and looks away, as Colt conveniently steps up behind us and says, “If you have questions, why don’t you ask me, Princess?”
“Maybe because I have nothing to say to you,” I say dryly.
His brow lifts in amusement, but the grim line to his mouth belies his expression. He doesn’t like my line of questioning any more than Nate did. So, what does it mean?
“If you’re going to ask about me, you should get it straight from the source.”
George moves away, uncomfortably, and I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Okay fine. What’s the deal with Portia?”
“What about her?”
“Well, for starters,” I retort, annoyed by his demeanor, “is she the reason you attack Nate every time we’re together?”
“No,” he says through clenched teeth leaning into my face. “I beat his fucking face because he’s touching what’s mine.”
Scoffing, I back up a step, my heart pounding in my chest. Colt’s angry about what I don’t know. The specter of Portia? Or me?
“Whatever. What’s your problem now?” I demand.
“You’re my fucking problem,” he barks before walking away.
Bewildered, I stare after him, confusion swirling painfully in my chest.
*****
The remainder of the party yields nothing but a bunch of drunks making assholes of themselves. Hayden’s busy fucking some girl. Nate avoids me after revealing his story, and Colt watches me broodily from afar.
I’m sulking by the fire, glancing around at all the students, pondering who I can hit up next when Ramie appears and sits beside me.
Glancing at her in surprise, I raise my brows, but she ignores my expression. Although we’ve managed to coexist peacefully, she’s still the bitch who sides with Colt in the games. Did he send her in for recon?
“Hey,” she mutters, staring into the flames.
Grunting, I glance around suspiciously, but Colt is nowhere in sight.
We sit in awkward silence for a while before she finally speaks. “I know you don’t believe me, but I am sorry. And I don’t plan to do anything more.”
Chuffing, I mutter, “What about when king Colt decrees it?”
Casting me a glare, she frowns and says, “I don’t answer to Colt.”
“Then, why?” I ask bewildered.
“Because Ben expected it, and he didn’t exactly allow me to say no,” she says grimly.
“Oh.” I don’t know what to say, but I know how hard it is to be defiant in the face of the threat of violence.
“Listen, I’m not a bad person. I just took a wrong turn.”
Nodding, I eye her speculatively and say, “Okay, prove it. I need info.”
She eyes me warily but agrees. “What do you want to know?”
“Okay, um. Sarah. How close was Colt with her?”
“Well,” she says slowly, “they were exclusive for a while. He seemed happy enough with her, but then something happened. I don’t know more than that he knew she slept with Hayden Franks,” she says sourly.
“So, he was into her? And he didn’t drop her until she betrayed him?” Although the news is painful to hear, it’s a mark against my hypothesis that the guys used us as competition.
“Yeah, why are you asking?”
“Well,” I say, chewing on my lip, “there’s Portia, who the guys fought over. And Sarah, who they slept with and now me. It makes me wonder…”
“Finn, regardless of how he felt or even acted with Sarah, it’s clear she doesn’t hold a candle to you. Colt can’t take his eyes off you. He’s a moody asshole when you’re fighting and jealous of everyone.”
“So? He was probably that way with Sarah too,” I grumble, ignoring the spark of delight in my chest.
She huffs out a laugh, “Colt never acted that way around Sarah. I think for him, it was a game. Yeah, he was annoyed when it turned out she was fucking the other guys, but he dropped her and never so much as looked back. With you, he transferred to your damn school. It’s nowhere near the same. Trust me.”
Mulling over her words - I wonder at the truth of them, knowing it’s foolish to have hope, but recognizing the burn anyway. I want Colt to want me as much as I still want him, but is he even capable of it?
Who knows - and I’ve spent far too much time digging into this already. I should be focusing on finding the answers I seek regarding my stalker.
*****
I’m no closer to solving my issue when I arrive at school Monday morning, but I am more confused than ever about Colt.
I finally broke and texted Teddy, who informed me that Portia was all the rage, the pre-Sarah who Colt dated.
The boys’ friendship became strained with Portia and eventually broke altogether with Sarah, a bond formed in kindergarten. After Portia apparently chose Colt, they dated for a while before finally moving on from each other, and she disappeared the following summer while hanging out with her friends at the beach, never to be found. Horrible that.
I skimmed over my plans regarding my stalker issue, just mentioning a few tidbits of information I gleaned, most of which went nowhere, and Teddy promised to keep an ear out for anyone who may be angry with me. I feel bad keeping things from him, but everything is so fucked, I don’t know which way is up.
When I enter first period, Colt’s in an incredibly playful m
ood, giving me heated stares, which I ignore. More and more, I wonder about this newest girl and the psychology behind the effect she may have had on him.
It’s stupid, but I can’t help but wonder. Was Portia the cause of his personality change? His dad? Sarah? All of them?
After an excruciating morning of my cycling thoughts, I search him out for more information. It’s not ideal, but he’s the only one who can set the record straight, but he’s deep in conversation with some bitch with big boobs and hair when I find him.
He’s leaning into her intently and doesn’t see me standing beside him. Backing away quickly, I disappear before he notices, my heart clenched painfully in my chest. This wasn’t for my benefit. He didn’t know I was around, which means he’s moving on, and it's devastating, but what can I possibly do?
The next day, I ice him out so completely he becomes agitated and corners me in the hall outside of class.
“What’s up, Princess? You seem a little off?” he says with a smirk, but I recognize the anxiety behind his eyes.
“I’m fine,” I mutter, looking over his shoulder, stonily.
Even now, my pulse is speeding through my veins at his proximity, and I hate that he still has the power to hurt me.
“Really?” he says, grabbing my chin and forcing me to face him.
“What do you want?”
“I want to know what’s got you so bitchy.”
“Bitchy?” I scoff. “You humiliated me in front of your friends, Colt. And let’s not forget about the creepy-ass dolls!”
Rolling his eyes, he says through clenched teeth, “I’m not your fucking fan, Finn.”
Although I’m pretty sure he’s not, I’m angry and hurt, and I want him to feel my pain.
“Is that so? You’re a fucking psycho. You don’t feel!” I say, poking his shoulder. “How can I believe you when you’re fucking soulless?”
“Soulless? What the fuck? I didn’t fucking leave dead animals as gifts! Why would I?”
“How the fuck should I know!”
“Finn, what’s going on? You’re acting weird.”
Slumping, I whisper, “It’s too much, Colt. It’s all too much.”
“Oh, Baby,” he murmurs, his pale eyes softening. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” I mutter sourly, “Maybe you should tell one of your bitches, I’m not interested.”
Stepping away, I stalk to my car angrily, annoyed by my swirling emotions and Colt’s damn expression when he looks at me. How am I supposed to stick to my guns when he seems so genuine?
Ugh.
Colt’s back to his regular icy but heated self the next day, and it becomes a game to see if I can evade him. I think my jealous remarks were like waving a flag in front of a bull because he watches me wherever I go.
This includes glowering at me when Nate invites me to eat at his table, and I agree. The day is fraught with tension as a result, and with a little thrill, I realize it’s like foreplay.
He’s a smart one, cornering me at every turn, but by the end of the day, I’m exhausted and pull the bathroom card, hightailing it out of there.
I’ve received no new communications from my fan, but I sweat at the thought he could be watching me at any time. Does he know about my heated conversations with Colt? How fucking close is he?
By Thursday after class, I'm completely exasperated. Colt’s managed to switch seats in classes usually reserved by name, giving me cheeky grins and daring me to say something.
Ignoring him as best I can, I duck into the bathroom as we leave class, thankful when Hayden calls his name, and after waiting until it’s sufficiently safe, I emerge and walk to my car briskly.
Of course, the dick is leaning against it when I exit the building, and I can't help the smile curling my lips. It’s not funny, but it is. Fucker.
Nate stops me at the door, and I turn as he emerges with his bright eyes and adorable dimple. “You wanna go get pizza? Me and a few others are heading over there now?”
Glancing at my car, where Colt is still leaning nonchalantly, his stern gaze moving between Nate and me, I feel a thrill rush down my spine and turn back to Nate with a grin, “Can I get a ride?”
Nate grins, and I follow him around the side of the building, jumping in his car and laughing as he drives away. When we pass, Colt is still standing by the side of my car with a fierce scowl. Take that, dick.
The pizza joint is a popular hangout. The last time I was here, Hayden convinced me to kiss him to make Colt jealous, which ended in a fight between Colt and I in the bathroom. Even now, I don’t know if what we were doing truly made him jealous, but the petty, mean side of me sure hopes so.
Of course, it all has a new meaning with Portia in the mix. Maybe it wasn’t about me but her. Perhaps this is all a sick game to see who emerges the winner.
When we arrive, I spy Sarah Bitch Fremont sitting at a table with North students, who accepted her into their fold easily enough, I note with a sour expression. I barely got the assholes to be nice to me, and she’s the one who set the rich bitch precedent. Hardly seems fair.
Of course, Tiffany Watkins, my arch-nemesis and one time whatever of Colt’s is sitting with her. That bitch helped Ben corner me in the bathroom at North, where he planned to force me to suck him off while she watched. She’s definitely on my shit list.
Sarah’s eyes raise to mine as I enter, looking me over avidly. She got what she wanted, Colt on her arm, or at least she did. I’ve no clue if they’re together now. They were at prom together, but Colt’s now stalking me at South, so who knows? He hasn’t shown much interest in her since prom, but he likes games. Maybe him harassing me is to get at her. What a mindfuck.
Unfortunately for her, he discards girls like a used tissue, it’s entirely likely he was using her to get to me, and now she’s not useful anymore.
I can’t feel any pity. She took great pleasure in humiliating me in front of a group of peers at Dirk’s house, rubbing the salt of my pain in my fresh wounds. That day will forever be emblazoned on my brain.
It’s the day Colt celebrated his eighteenth birthday, and the last time he looked at me with soft eyes, as though even though he denied it, he might actually care for me. It was the best day and the worst day because right after, we confronted his father, and Colt emerged a shell of the person he was before.
In my weaker moments, I wonder if that's not the reason he took me to Dirk’s party and paraded Sarah in front of me. Maybe it was easier to push me away than be the person who's vulnerable in the face of the emotion he believes to be the worst of things - love.
Foolish. Because despite how Colt might have felt, he didn’t have to be so cruel, and it’s a mark of his personality that he couldn’t just let me down easy. No, he had to go out with a fucking bang.
I return Sarah’s stare with my own, arching a brow when she smiles, her mouth curling into a satisfied grin. Nothing good can come from such a look, but I refuse to let her see my unease. Giving her my own feral grin, which ratchets down her pleasure a notch, I join Nate at the table with his friends, and we order drinks and food.
I’m just settling in and starting to enjoy myself when the door bursts open, and Colt emerges, with Dirk and George in tow. Since I’ve no clue what game he’s playing now, I’m wary when he completely ignores Sarah and makes a beeline for where I’m sitting, pulling out a chair across from me and making himself at home.
I don’t want to look at him. I’m afraid to see whatever is behind his eyes. We haven’t spoken beyond a few heated conversations I’ve jumped out of before they can turn serious. Thankfully, we’re not alone, but I have few choices in avoiding him, so I resolve to ignore him for now.
Dirk and George follow suit, Dirk giving me a saucy wink as he does. Arching a brow, I give him a small smile, but despite playing nice to get the dirt on my stalker, the dick’s still on my shit list for his affiliation with Colt.
George gives me a sheepish grin, his face, hardened by life, folding into gen
tle lines. I don’t know why, but I soften because of all of them, I think George is the only one who didn’t enjoy what they did, nor did he truly participate.
Regardless, I got my revenge when I pissed on the football players by presenting a case study on domestic violence and its relation to football. Of course, no one knew it was about my own family until they confronted me in the parking lot, and I screamed it to the rafters, or sky as it were.
“Hey George,” I say pleasantly, to which he beams, his anxiety fading, I assume in direct relation to his disappearing act the other night.
Colt glares at me with flared nostrils when I do, but I ignore him, noting Nate's stiff posture beside me. His friends are all quiet, staring between Colt, his entourage, and me, unsure how to act in the face of their audacity.
And now that I know there’s history between the two, the awkward silence feels filled with meaning I’ve yet to understand.
“Hey now, hurt my feelings,” Dirk says playfully, and I roll my eyes.
“Dirk,” I say grudgingly, giving him an approximation of a smile and chin dip, his amused expression leading me to believe it's probably ghastly.
I’m still disappointed that my big reveal about Colt’s parents' sordid life was not a surprise, either that or his friends got over it quickly. Although I’ve seen a few distasteful glances sent his way, I’ve not been able to determine how some of the others reacted. South students haven’t said much, but then Colt wasn’t their esteemed leader preaching about privilege.
“Enough,” Colt says abruptly, and I jump in my seat, my gaze flying back to his.
“What? Your highness?” I snarl, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Let me make this perfectly clear to you, to all of you,” he says, raising his voice and staring Nate down with an icy expression, “Finn Hart is mine. You don't talk to her. You don't look at her, and you sure as shit don't think about her.”
Gasping in outrage, I lean forward, my words tripping off my tongue, heatedly, “Fuck you! I am not yours. I will never be yours. That ship sailed when Sarah Bitch Fremont sucked your tonsils down your throat at Dick’s party.”
