by Elena Monroe
Fucking hormones.
Nyx followed me back to the dorm; I guessed since he occupied the room down the same hallway. His pace, which kept up with mine, said differently. His strength was unmatched, and I was sure he wasn't using any real effort when I felt his hand shove me into the wall next to my door and hold me there.
“Don't ever involve her. I don't care how ruthless you feel.”
I exhaled like I needed to get rid of the poisoned oxygen inside of me that wanted to hurt my best friend. Right now, no part of me cared who he was when he was threatening me.
I stayed planted. “Do you wanna admit you like her already? Or is this little act made up of friendship and delusions?”
The anger Nyx harbored was relentless and terrifying, if we’re being honest. He had every reason to hate the world, shut us all out, and crack his knuckles until it felt better. Hell, he even had the right to love Luna in secret. Whatever was coming my way for doubting his right to feel all that was justified.
His fist swiftly hit my lip, and I felt it swell around the crack that the force against my own teeth gave it. I slid down the wall, unmotivated to hit back.
Nyx leaned down, grabbing my shirt into his balled up fist and pulled me back up. “Delusions? Friendships? What do you know about either, Bolton? You're in denial about Arianna, and you forgot what loyalty is.”
He released my shirt and left me there like some rag doll he was done playing with. I watched him slam his door, and I slammed my own fist into the hardwood floor, surprised it didn't crack.
I pushed my head back, looking up at the ceiling, as I ripped my phone from my pocket and texted Jasper.
There were already girls outside the abandoned building on campus all eyeing me like I was carbs and they had been on some stupid low carb diet.
I wasn’t interested in the girls who arrived early. They arrived early for one of two reasons: desperation, or they didn't spend much time getting ready, because deep down they knew this was as good as it got.
I was vain on top of being an asshole. I know, real winner, right? When you wear a crown, winning isn't a concern.
I breezed past the desperation and moderate looks in search of Jasper. He'd be bossing the freshman on our team around somewhere.
I wondered if anyone ever questioned why they were following his orders. Guess not, since I found two guys lifting a keg, while Jasper went hands-free, watching them.
I recognized them from tryouts over the summer—freshies. I balled up my fist, letting my knuckles bump against his before I sat on the counter with my shoes hitting the island’s sides carelessly.
“Who did you piss off?”
He noticed the split in my lip almost instantly, and without thinking, I ran my tongue over it, making it sting all over again. Damn it.
“Nyx and his precious ego.”
Jasper laughed, handling a football, but not tossing it to anyone. He never stopped thinking about the game and winning, and it was apparent to everyone, even me—his less than dedicated co-captain.
That was Jasper’s downfall: He was bossy, but no one was following him anywhere. He wasn't a leader.
“Let me guess, you brought up his secret affection for the meek Luna.”
I shrugged in annoyance at his accurate guess. Jasper could even guess without any information to go on.
So why does telling the truth out loud hurt so many people?
Jasper pulled the top off a beer and handed it to me. “Damn, Bolton. You needed tonight more than me.”
I pushed the glass of beer against his, creating a high-pitched cling, before I pushed off the counter.
Substances was a check.
Now all I needed was to find a companion to drain these hormones and take my mind off the beast inside me that drove me to be so angry anyways.
People poured in as I walked around a large room that was once a classroom. There was a large open area for studying, and a coffee cart now used to house Solo cups. I gave up finding anyone of interest when I stalked to the back of the building to the room we deemed off limits.
I heard footsteps long before I reached the door, alerting me someone was trespassing. Quietly I stood in the doorway, searching the room for the culprit, when I should have guessed:
Arianna. New Girl.
Her fingers danced on the surfaces as her curiosity took it all in. There was no way to tell anyone that I was in a dangerously ruthless mood so that they could warn her. It was too late now.
“You’re gonna graduate from New Girl to felon if you don't start following the rules.”
She laughed, and something about the casual attitude around the word “felon” made it seem like she knew trouble better than I did.
“Been there, done that… wasn't worth the t-shirt or the keychain.”
I plopped down in the chair I put there years ago now. I had gotten tired of getting drunk and doing the same shit. I preferred to do it alone rather than with people I hardly liked. That's why this was my place to hide during parties.
She finally let eyes gloss over me, and her face winced at the cut on my lip. I almost thought she physically got hurt; too bad suffering isn't transferable.
“What the fuck happened to you?”
That sounded like a real concern, in all its displaced glory. Stern, demanding, even judgment—-all there.
“Well, not that it's your business, but I finally got what I deserved for my mouth.”
She fearlessly walked right over to me, standing between my legs, and leaned down to get a better look. Her deep blue eye, rimmed with violet to match her hair, reminded me of the sky when it got tie-dyed right before sundown. She inspected my wound that stopped hurting the more I pushed the beer bottle to my lips over and over.
Better than the golden hour, before the all the colors turned black and nothing was covered in the pretty filter. That summed up Arianna.
“Well-deserved doesn't make it hurt less.”
She was wrong. It actually did.
“Are you gonna kiss it and make it all better?”
She actually half scoffed, half snorted with laughter, like I wasn't being serious. I was in a despicable and semi-diabolical mood, hellbent on the two B’s that teenagers valued. Beers and Babes. The third B (bongs) was out, since I couldn't get caught with shit in my system during a pee test.
Arianna wasn't half bad looking, if I could get past her immaturity and whatever tantrum led to her purple hair. Her skin shimmered like it was actually happy, and her lips were almost always smiling. In this moment, she was half goddess, but I couldn't forget she was always half hell.
My own personal hell.
I let my hand touch her thigh so she knew I was serious even though I was slumped down and perpetually bored.
“What are you doing? We hate each other remember?”
“Hate me tomorrow.”
She suddenly got shy as she stood between my open legs and looked down, unsure of herself for the first time since she stormed into my life.
A world class bullshitter losing her touch in front of me. I wanted to be cruel and not so unusual, but I bit my tongue.
“How drunk are you? Your hate is lethal, and you've never been nice to me.”
“Not drunk enough for you to use it as an excuse. It's 2020; I know how to say no.”
She swayed slightly between my legs, like she was thinking about my proposition. I sat up, making sure both my hands slid up her jeans to her ass. I still hated her, but in this moment, all I could think about was how her ass was something you could bite into. She had a full ass that filled her jeans out in a way most girls would envy and guys would worship.
Why weren't guys worshiping her? Did they really need my okay, or was it simply my disinterest?
“Bolton…” she countered.
“Arianna…” I rebutted.
I wasn't a dog, and saying my name didn't kill my motivation. I was a teenager with my hands smoothing up the back of her thighs. Short of a cold shower or so
me relief, I wasn’t planning on backing down.
“This isn’t you.”
She said it so matter-of-factly that I wanted to drop my hands and scream she didn't know me, know how royally fucked I was, or how much I really knew she was different but not in the way I needed.
I needed a savior when everyone was looking to me to do the saving.
“Maybe you don't know me very well.”
I sat up, on the edge of the old chair, enticing her more by drawing her closer.
I was stronger than her, and she wasn't truly putting up our typical push/pull bullshit. I put a firmer grasp on her thighs to pull her into my lap, straddling me, as my hands grasped her hips.
“Is this how I get to know the King of Arcadia Prep?”
Even on top of me, she was still full of sass and attitude, and I wanted to seduce it out of her.
“You know more than most, thanks to your defiant behavior.”
She didn't make any advances, she simply sat there comfortably, like I was her throne, and she had just been crowned queen, not of Arcadia Prep, of my heart.
“But do I know the real you? I wanna know the version of you that isn't king and aches as much as we all do.” Her voice was like velvet on my skin when she spoke. It made parts of my awareness focus on what did ache, what really bothered me, none of which was my growing frustration to get laid.
This girl wrecked me in ways I didn't know possible.
I leaned up swiftly letting my fingers tangle into her hair as I pushed my lips onto hers too roughly. I was out of practice. She melted down into me, letting her hand land on my chest for balance. My hands grazed over her, exploring what I could, until I remembered why she was in this position to begin with.
Cheyanne needed her hair, and I was going to be the one to get it.
She deepened our kiss so much that my fingers in her hair almost forgot what they were doing and gave up, as I felt her tongue collide with mine. She wasn't shy or lazy; she knew exactly how to kiss. Every part of me got hungry for more of her, and the blood running through my veins felt thick with desire.
Jasper’s anti-bulky body and height was enough to make him clumsy when buzzed. He bumped into the doorframe a few times before entering the room.
“Hey, guys! Kate made Jell-O sh- shit.”
He turned the word shots easily into shit when he saw the position we were in. He drew our attention enough for the exchange or saliva to stop, and all I heard was our breath rattling in our chests, out of our control.
I sat back as I yanked two hairs from the back of her head as she yelped, still on top of me. She touched her neck like a mosquito bit her instead of throwing accusations.
I looked carefree, innocent, and comfortable.
These fucking hormones made me hyper aware that she was stretched into this perfect pin-up position, right on top of the parts of me that demanded attention.
On-the-way-to-drunk Jasper stumbled to the hard liquor we kept in this room, which was off limits to everyone else. I watched him pour shots before he attempted to carry them all over to us, while I waited for the cheers part of this.
He had no speech or witty comments or even the sobriety to say cheers before he gulped it back.
Arianna was next to throw it back, like a professional I noticed. Most girls didn't like Whiskey or hard alcohol. I was mildly impressed. I set mine down on the table, declining the liquid gold. I had two beers. If I had anymore, I couldn't be responsible for how rude or pushy I got with Arianna. That was my hard limit, two beers, and I was still in control.
She made no attempt to move or find her own chair, and the mind game of it all was getting to me. Parts of me loved whatever game she was playing, and I'm sure she felt that, while other parts of me despised that she could toy with me so easily.
She twisted her neck around, watching Jasper leave the room in his buzzed glory, one more shot away from drunk, before she looked back to me.
“He's a character.”
“He's a party trick.”
She looked at me confused with her eyebrows bowing along with her feelings.
“He’s always proving something… always performing a trick.”
She put her hands on my chest and her features softened into a clear lust. Even her lips were flirting with me as her tongue swiped her bottom lip.
“What was he proving tonight?”
My hands grasped her hips tightly to keep her from moving. She didn't need to know how easily I was turned on by her.
“That he's smart enough to not study, get drunk, and still make his marks. That he's better than everyone.”
She unzipped her black hoodie slowly and discarded it like suddenly she wasn't cold at all. She pulled her bottom lip in and caged it with her teeth.
“He wants to be king?”
I felt my eyes slant down at her mention of a threat—one I wasn't actually worried about, but any threat made my alarms go off.
“No one will be me.”
She took my calloused palm in her hand and dragged my hand along her body. She leaned back slightly, while slightly telling me what I knew was okay, to squeeze and grasp whatever I wanted in my hands.
I almost forgot about her strands of purple hair in my pocket, to either destroy her or make her one of us. I pushed away reason and the demands of the circle. Despite my reputation of being a selfish man, I really spent every minute protecting everyone else. This was my moment to be my reputation.
I looked up at Arianna, who looked as starved as me. “Are you sure?”
Her eyes glowed in the dim lighting. The glint in her eye looked like the whiskey in the cup next to me—liquid gold with darker flecks. She nodded her head, and I watched her fingers delicately pull her tank top from her ribs.
My eyes were glued to her in a way that my attention was never demanded. I kept my relaxed position, just watching her, not advancing her in any way. I was content letting her lead. She finally dipped her head, and I sat up for my busted lips to meet hers again, while my arms wrapped around her, making sure to land on her full ass.
Hungry, our lips pushed into each other with aggression, the sting radiating off my lip was well worth it. Her tongue was soft inside my mouth. She even tasted sweet, despite her sour outside.
Her hands grazed my abs under my hoodie and shirt. She was motivated to see more of me. I didn't realize how willing I was to show her until I felt myself kissing her with more passion than a moment ago.
Nyx was hard to miss when he entered a room. He was harder to miss when he brought back up, Austin. My eyes drifted to them before I pulled away from Arianna.
She must have sensed them, because she pulled away and craned her neck to meet my gaze. She turned back towards me unashamed, completely calm.
“Guess that's my cue.”
Arianna sat on me like a throne, and suddenly I felt like her king. Not the bullshit title I earned with my bad attitude, being superior enough to be this school’s leader, and the circle depending on me.
I earned this title differently tonight: A queen picked me to be her king, and it felt more fulfilling than anything I had ever done.
She zipped her hoodie again as we both stood, spinning her around I stood in front of her. The guys could probably read lips, but this was still private.
“I gotta deal with this. My room after?”
I saw her mulling it over and probably wondering what I meant by the vague “this.” I may be her newly crowned king, but those details were only going to be spilled after she proved her loyalty—and not one moment before. Good sex wasn’t enough to pry the vaulted parts of me open.
“Find me after.”
The back of her hand brushed mine as she exited the room, and I plopped down in the heavy chair with a thud.
Now they were cornering me?
Nyx didn't speak, he let Austin start the investigation that was pointless, because we were all there for the part that earned me a busted lip.
“We need to stick together,
man…” Austin wasn't comfortable with the hard conversations. He was too rooted in his emotions and feeding off how other people felt.
I stared at Nyx, yet I was talking to Austin.
“I didn't throw a fist, Austin. Talk to your boy.”
His eyes were like knives when our stares finally connected. His arms were folded against his chest, and I could tell we needed more time for the dust to settle.
Austin was always fixing things without the gift of timing.
“We all know how special Luna is to him.”
He didn't have to justify anything to me, we all knew how much Luna mattered to Nyx. He had been pining after her since he transferred in from Australia last year.
In my memories, he had always pined for her, for longer, centuries even, if I wanted to dig up the past, yet he did nothing about it. He was the toughest person I knew. He had the strength of the gods, but little Luna scared him into silence?
“Does she know Nyx?”
I could be approaching this all wrong. I could be pushing him when I knew firsthand the avoidance of love. None of that mattered, being wrong was losing and being weak, and I wasn't any of that. So I was going to blindly fight my position until he caved.
His anger was only mounting into diabolical.
He got a clean shot at me before. Next time, I was going to hit back, I wasn't above defending myself, even from my best friend.
I pushed past Nyx in the doorway with better things to do… like Arianna.
I found Arianna easily in the clumps of people; she stuck out like a sore fucking thumb. Purple hair matched her “don't care” attitude, and her smirk could catch someone on fire.
She was talking with Kate Mental note: Kate needed a new nickname. Queen was taken, and not by her anymore.) and Luna when I walked up behind her, bending down to whisper in her ear.
“My room. Let's go.”
I wasn’t pleasant or even asking her. I was demanding and brooding at all my edges, but it was who I was and Arianna didn't expect something different from me.
I was going to be a king regardless if I was her king.
She didn't even bother turning around, only twisting her neck in my direction.
