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Foes & Cons

Page 4

by Carrie Aarons


  Like I said, there are only ever a handful of members who come to these meetings.

  So, my jaw basically unhinges when I see the mass of people start to stream into the room before Nate and I can even discuss another thing about the meeting.

  And they’re all led by one person, who is flashing me a shit-eating grin. Sawyer.

  Nate and I have all but come up with the theme already, as we do every year. We plotted out what it would be, came up with sample music set lists for the dance and mural ideas to present to the smattering of class cabinet members who would attend this meeting. Typically, no one opposed our idea. At least that’s how it has been since freshman year.

  But looking at Sawyer’s smug grin, I know that is about to end.

  I march right up to where he’s sitting, front row center, and almost jab my finger into his chest.

  “What’s the big idea?” I leave off the nickname asshole by a matter of seconds.

  “Isn’t this an open meeting? Aren’t I member of the senior class?” He looks like the cat who just ate the canary.

  My blood simmers. “Sure. But since I’ve never seen you or your closest hundred friends at any one of these meetings before, and I’m not an idiot, I know something is up. What do you want?”

  Sawyer looks around, and I notice Glavin smirking next to him. “We just want to make sure that our idea for the senior theme is heard. And voted on.”

  Dread fills the pit of my stomach, because now I understand exactly what he’s doing. He’s here to sabotage, to take away the one bit of power that I actually do have. To ruin all of the work I’ve been looking forward to.

  “We have a theme already,” I bite out.

  “No, you don’t. You’re required to call a vote on it. And since we have some ideas of our own, you have to listen to us.”

  Now Sawyer leans in, so only I can hear. “Remember when I said I’d be issuing every kind of revenge? This is it.” His whisper is cold and callous.

  The words he spoke to me just a week after the seven minutes in heaven debacle come rushing back. We were standing in my front yard, no idea the turmoil that was to come for our relationship, when my best friend promised to essentially make my life a living hell.

  “You want to go toe to toe with me, Blair? Be careful what you wish for. I’ll break you down, make you curse the day you ever went against me. You want an enemy? You’ve got one.”

  Of course, this was after a week of us slinging mud back and forth at each other. After my performance coming out of the closet post-seven minutes in heaven, Sawyer had been so hurt. He tried to talk to me about it on the way home, as we awkwardly walked next to each other down the streets of Chester on that humid summer night. I rebuffed him, my own heart hanging on by a thread in my chest, thinking about all the ugly words he’d written about me on that pros and cons list.

  I told him, on that walk, that I just didn’t want people thinking I ever wanted to kiss him, because it made me want to be sick. He responded with just as much poison, telling me that I’d thank my lucky stars if he ever showed interest in me. We were infecting our relationship with venom, killing it from the inside out. Over the course of that week, rumors ran rampant, both of us spreading lies about each other and avoiding any kind of mature talk or resolution.

  After that, any chance of being us again went out the window. We started sophomore year as enemies and have continued that way ever since.

  My mind is swimming, panic gripping every cell in my body. Nate gives me a strange look, but calls the meeting to order because time is of the essence and we all have to get to homeroom soon. I want to run down to the podium, call the whole thing off, dismiss the hundred random people in the room, ones who have never cared about our class or its decisions ever before.

  But my muscles won’t move, and I just stand here, trying not to smack the smirk off Sawyer’s ridiculously handsome face.

  “All right, next up we’ll be voting on the Spirit Night theme. My cabinet and I have come up with a theme to present; Senior Superheroes. We’re thinking a complete Marvel and DC theme—”

  Nate is completely cut off when Sawyer pipes up. “All in favor for Senior Survivors?”

  Dozens of hands shoot up, and my stomach plummets through the floor.

  “Sorry, but we have to hear presentations, call it to a vote …” Nate is trying to keep his composure, but I can see he’s freaking pissed.

  “Aren’t we calling it to a vote right now?” Sawyer cocks an eyebrow and a vicious grin at the class president. “You wouldn’t want the entire senior class to think you were rigging this vote so that your idea wins, would you, Nate?”

  I hate everything about this moment as I watch Nate’s eyes flare with anger. This isn’t his doing, he’s not the reason that all of our hard work in preparing the theme is going to shit. It’s not his fault, and his fairness and position shouldn’t be in question right now.

  No, this is happening because Sawyer despises me, and I stood up to him for the first time in two years. Hatred, fury, sadness and a lot of other emotions mix inside my gut, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve turned a shade of beet purple. I’m shaking with rage, and I want to throttle my nemesis.

  He’s following through on his promise, and he knows it, when Nate shrugs sadly and says, “I guess the votes for Senior Survivors have it.”

  A whoop and cheers go up from the massive crowd that I know we’ll never see in here again. Then, just as promptly as they filed in, they all file out, not even bothering to stay for the rest of the meeting.

  I want to cry, but I keep my stiff upper lip. I can’t let them, or him, see how much this has devastated me.

  As Sawyer passes me on his way out, he stops and speaks low, his lips dangerously close to mine.

  “I told you I wasn’t playing around. You want this to stop? Fade into the background, like you were meant to do. Or I’ll take everything you love about this school and this town.”

  Everything in me burns with defeat, and Nate’s eyes are concerned as we connect across the classroom.

  Part of me wants to back down, to stay the doormat I’ve been the last two years. But the other part of me says absolutely fucking not.

  Sawyer just stole one of the things I love most about this hellhole. And I’m going to make him pay.

  6

  Sawyer

  The initial week of school flies by, culminating in the first Friday night party after the football game.

  Matthew is standing on top of a large table that looks like it was carved from a massive oak tree, toasting to every other drunk high schooler in the room.

  “To senior year; may we live it drunkenly, sexily, and like our lives might end tomorrow!” He raises the bottle of tequila in his fist and takes a swig, and a hundred red cups follow suit on the ground below.

  “Not the best toast, to be honest.” Glavin chuckles.

  I nod, sipping on my second foamy cup of keg beer. “But everyone is on their way to shit-faced, so I doubt they noticed.”

  “Everyone is also on their way to laying a girl down in the back of their car, so you better get on Hailey if you want that, man.” My best friend holds his cup up in a salute to me.

  My gaze travels across the room and lands on Hailey, who is hosting the party tonight. She’s not subtle at all about the way she’s eye-fucking me, her body swaying with tipsiness already. I don’t say it out loud, because I’d sound like a cocky asshole, but I don’t think I need to get on that. If I crook my finger, or even an eyebrow, she’ll come running. Partly because I am who I am, one of the most popular guys in our grade, and that’s not being cocky. But partly because Hailey has been offering herself up for close to a year and I haven’t taken her up on it. Sure, we flirt and there is an attraction, but it’s almost too easy. I’m all for getting off, for getting naked with a hot girl, but sometimes when it just falls into my lap, I’m almost turned off.

  There is something about the chase, the fight, the tension, that ma
kes sex and hooking up that much more satisfying.

  Although, if I get with Hailey tonight, at least I’ll be able to claim a bedroom here rather than sleeping off my drunk haze in my car until the early hours of the morning when I’m sober enough to drive.

  Hailey’s father is a successful surgeon at the university hospital two towns over, and it shows. The family not only have their mansion on ten acres on the outskirts of Chester, but they have this lake house. Which, to any normal person, is not a lake house at all. You might think of a log cabin with a path down to the lake, or some kayaks resting on a dock. Maybe if a family were really well off, they’d have jet skis on said dock.

  But no, Hailey’s lake house is more like a resort. The main house is a miles-long ranch with windows on every side, log cabin features, and about twelve bedrooms. There is a dock right outside the back door, and a huge lakefront beach with every water toy imaginable tied up and waiting for some drunk teenager to break their neck on it. There is a horse barn on the property, along with two pools and a guesthouse almost bigger than my own house, which my dad designed from the ground up. It’s obnoxious, this “cabin,” but it makes for a secluded and kick-ass party spot.

  “Who are you going for?” I ask, not wanting to address the Hailey thing.

  “Her, duh.” Matthew hops down from his perch on the table, drunk on his first football victory of the season tonight.

  There is a loud yell, and across the room I see a table of about a dozen people react to something. Looking closer, I see they’re playing flip cup. And one person in particular is more riled up than any other.

  Blair. And Matt is pointing right at her.

  “Not if I catch her first.” Glavin elbows him in the ribs.

  “No.” My voice is grit and stone, and both of their heads swing to me.

  “Come on, dude. You made her off-limits when she wasn’t this hot. Now that deal is off,” Matthew argues.

  “I said no.” I glare at him.

  “If you’re not going to tap that, one of us should,” Matt tries again.

  “You’re pushing it.” I practically growl.

  “There’s no reason she should even be off-limits, aside from that shit she pulled sophomore year. And come on, that’s weak, Roarke. So she dissed your kissing, get over it. Or try again. I’m sure you’ve improved since then.” Matt snorts.

  They all think that was the reason I made Blair persona non grata, that it was because she embarrassed me. And that is partially the reason. But the even bigger reason is because if she doesn’t want me, if I can’t have her, then no one can. I don’t want to see her flirting with other guys, or hear about how she was falling in love. I don’t want to turn down a hall at school and see some asshole making out with her in front of her locker.

  I want her to pay for not wanting me. For purposely pushing me away.

  But my friends can think it was just about that one night two summers ago. They can think that’s the reason we’ve tormented her for so long. And I use it now to keep them from stalking across this party and doing what I want to do, but aren’t allowed.

  “No, the reason she is off-limits is that she’s a fucking stuck-up nerd who needs to know her place,” I spit, and it’s total bullshit.

  I’m pissed off at her, but not because of any of the lies I just told. I’m pissed off because I can’t be the guy sneakily leading her back to my truck tonight, and I can’t even admit that out loud.

  I can’t help but watch Blair. She’s radiant, as if a glow is coming off of her and the entire party can’t resist it. She’s like Cinderella in that one scene where all eyes in the ballroom are on her. She’s unexpected, surprising everyone, and I can’t keep my goddamn eyes off her. I want to march across this room and throw her over my shoulder, caveman style. And I’m not sure if I want to take her into a bedroom and strip her naked, or scream at her for being here in the first place.

  But whichever it is, my feet are moving of their own accord as I stomp across the party to confront her.

  “Thought I told you to fall back.” I come up right behind her, trying to spook her, but she doesn’t flinch.

  No, this petite hellion turns around and squares her shoulders at me. “And I thought people worried more about booze and hooking up at a party than torturing the girl they aren’t sleeping with, but that’s just me.”

  Snickers rise up around her, and my cheeks burn with the loss. I can’t let her get any points against me.

  “You’re not important enough to worry me, or even register as a blip on my radar. I am concerned about who is screening the invites to this party, because I wasn’t aware losers were invited.”

  More chuckles around us, and Blair’s face falls for a millisecond before she recovers her grin.

  “So I’m a loser. But I’m still here, and I’ve still managed to score a couple free drinks. So I guess that means I’m winning tonight.”

  Blair licks her pointer finger and makes a motion as if she’s writing a number one in the air. Blair one, Sawyer zero, that’s what she’s trying to say. And it makes me even more furious.

  But before I can put her in her place again, her best friend comes out of nowhere like a wasted tornado.

  Laura runs up, and I can smell the vodka on her from a mile away. “B, I’m super drunk.”

  She thinks she’s whispering, but I’m pretty sure people four acres away can hear her.

  “What the hell? You were supposed to drive!” Blair practically screeches. “Jeez, Laur, my dad is going to kill me.”

  I know for a fact that Todd probably couldn’t give two shits if his daughter was out drinking. Shit, he’s probably ecstatic that she’s even at a party. No, this is all Blair talking; she’s freaking out thinking she couldn’t control where she was sleeping or when she was leaving.

  “Can you take her home?” Laura hangs off my shoulder in an uncharacteristically friendly move.

  She must be drunker than usual, because no way would she be asking me to take Blair home. No way would she even be speaking to me, since she hates me almost as much as her best friend.

  “Hell no.”

  “But her dad is going to be pissed.” Laura gives me a puppy dog face.

  We all know Todd won’t be anything of the sort, but just that inkling of doubt that I could fall onto his shit list has me reaching for Blair’s hand.

  The minute our fingers touch, it’s like one giant spark explodes all over my entire body. I feel it down to my toes, and I’m surprised to look up and see the power still on in Hailey’s cabin. And it makes me want to be alone with her, to fight or fuck or do whatever it is we can’t do in front of all these people.

  “Come on. Now.” I’m over being here, now that I see how much fun she is having.

  Plus, I wasn’t even really planning on staying. Or maybe I decided that the minute Laura asked me to take Blair home. Either way, I don’t want to be here anymore.

  “You’re not taking me home.” My former friend scoffs, wrenching her hand out of my grasp.

  “And I’m not going to be the reason your dad is pissed. So let’s go.” I’m talking to her like she’s the dumbest person on the planet.

  “Fuck you, I’m not five.” Blair clearly noticed my tone.

  We may be arguing, but we still end up outside, where only the scantest of partygoers are loitering. The night is warm with a hint of the autumn air that is to come in the following weeks.

  “Get in the truck, Blair.” It’s the first time I think I’ve said her name out loud, to her, in a year.

  “Stuff it, Sawyer.” She’s drunk and clearly it’s giving her some kind of false confidence. “You’ll probably shove me out the side while the car is moving or something, anyway.”

  “Yeah, because attempted murder looks real good on a college application.” I roll my eyes.

  She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me.

  “You really don’t have to take me home. I’m pretty certain you still might dump me two m
iles from my house and make me walk, so thanks, but no thanks. You’re not some knight in shining armor. And I wouldn’t want to hold you back from dating someone prettier,” Blair slurs, her face coming close to mine.

  Those final words she speaks dance in my head, sounding so familiar, and she spits them like venom.

  “Who said we were going to date? And why would you ever hold me back?” I fire back, frustrated and confused.

  “Just something I heard,” she singsongs in the most annoying voice I’ve ever heard.

  I’m trying to suss out the cobwebs in my brain that are reassembling themselves around the words Blair has just spoken. And even though we’re arguing about whether or not she’s going to let me take her home, we somehow drift to the spot right in front of my truck. Both of us seem to keep saying we’ll avoid each other, that we want nothing to do with each other, but we’re constantly doing this circling dance around one another.

  It’s dark, and I’m not paying attention to anything as Blair’s words swim in my head. That is, until I unlock my car and the interior lights go on.

  “What the fuck?” I pull my hand away from the handle on my driver’s side door, something sticky coating my palm.

  That’s when I notice the hundreds of … Jesus Christ, tampons are covering my Jeep.

  Blair is practically doubled over, snickering like a hyena.

  “Are you fucking serious with this shit?” I whirl on her, and she straightens.

  “So maybe I had an ulterior motive for coming to this party.” She shrugs, a smug grin painting lips that are so full, they look like they’ve been sucked and bitten on for hours.

  My car is covered in tampons, from roof to wheels, all over the windshield and in every nook and cranny. It smells like she put gobs and gobs of honey under the handle of my door, so that it’ll be sticky for weeks to come.

  I round on her, and walk us backward, Blair stumbling as I advance on her. When her back meets the door of my truck, I bracket her body with my arms and get right in her face.

 

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