Swinging my legs from the bed, I stand and walk over to the door that leads to the garden so I can swing it open and allow the cool morning air to fill the room. I love the scent of the end of summer mixing with the faint sea air.
A rush of air surrounds me, causing goosebumps to prick my skin as something fluttering to the floor behind me catches my eyes.
Bending down, I reach out to pick up the paper that floated to the floor but the second I lay my eyes on it my entire body freezes.
Lock your fucking door.
Looking around, I search for clues that anyone was here, but nothing seems out of place. Then I’m reminded once again of my dream. Of his gentle touch, the warmth of his skin.
“Fuck.” Placing my palm on my cheek where I remember his trailing fingertips, I stumble back until I fall down on my bed. Was it all a dream?
Camila questions me on my ‘date’ the whole way to school, thankfully distracting me from my potential late night visitor but the second we arrive and I step out of her car, he’s all I can think about. I look around and for the first time since I started here, I actively look for him, hoping to find any kind of evidence for the truth about last night. But sadly, aside from his bunch of idiot friends, I don’t see any sign of him.
Pushing thoughts of him avoiding me to the back of my head, I head for my first class. He’s Jacob Thorn, king of Rosewood High, why would he feel the need to avoid me? For all I know, he did come into my room last night and he’s got more damning evidence of me on camera that he’s in the process of shaming me with.
My heart races at the thought. If that’s the case, he could have done anything. My stomach twists and my breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.
I’m the first into my art class, I stumble toward my desk and fumble to pull the chair out as I try to convince myself that I’m allowing my imagination to get the better of me. I know he’s a dick, but he wouldn’t take things that far, would he? I try not to focus on what the answer to that question could be.
“Hey, how are you holding up?”
“What? Why? What’s happened?” I practically bark at Poppy when she falls down beside me.
“Uh…” Her hesitation has my heart racing and my head spinning. Her eyes narrow and her head tilts to the side in confusion. “Nothing, I don’t think. I just meant after the beginning of the week, plus I heard a rumor you had a date last night.”
Blowing out a huge sigh of relief that nothing else has happened, yet, I drop my head to my hands. “It wasn’t a date. Just two friends getting some dinner.”
“Does he know that? Even I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“Yes, he was fully aware and nothing untoward happened. Not that your bloody cousin would have allowed it.”
“Jake was there?”
“Yeah, always everywhere I turn driving me freaking crazy.” My cheeks heat as memories from last night hit me once again but thankfully Poppy either doesn’t notice or just ignores it.
“He needs to get a grip. He’s acting like a crazy man.”
“You’re telling me. Did you get your bit of our presentation finished?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Yep, all done. We still meeting at lunch to go through it?”
“Yes. Library?”
“If you want.”
By some miracle, I manage to keep my head down and avoid almost everyone all day. I spend my free period in the library along with the entire lunch break with Poppy running through our presentation for later that afternoon.
I hear no gossip that anything else has happened and there’s no evidence of any new footage of me, so by the time I walk out of school after my last class to meet Camila, I’m starting to relax a little.
“Ah she lives,” she chuckles. “I thought I was going to have to come and drag you out from that damn library.”
“I had loads of work to do.”
“So you weren’t avoiding Shane after last night?”
“No. Why would I?”
She shrugs, but it’s not enough to make me forget her comment. “What’s happened, Cam?”
“Nothing, nothing. He just seemed even more interested this morning. Couldn’t stop talking about you.”
“He has no reason to, we had a nice night, like I told you this morning. Nothing happened, and I gave him no idea that it would.”
“Well, from what I could tell, he’s certainly got that idea.”
“Fucking hell. Maybe I shouldn’t go tonight.”
“No chance. It’s his birthday, you have to go.”
“No, I really don’t. I really don’t want to spend a night with the football team and the cheerleaders, and I especially don’t need to spend the night watching everything I say or do in case I lead him on.”
“It’ll be fine. Apparently Jake’s not going, so that’s one less thing you need to worry about.”
Fuck. My. Life. How did things get so damn complicated?
“Come on, let’s get out of here. We’ve got a game and a party to prepare for.”
“So you’re telling me that we have to wear school colours tonight?” I ask Camila when she pulls out multiple items of clothes that are all red and white.
“Yep, tradition.”
“Fantastic,” I mutter, pulling my wardrobe open and looking at my options.
I’m shoved aside as Camila takes over my wardrobe choices. “Hmmm... what about... this,” she says, pulling a short white skirt from a hanger. “And... uh... this.” A barely-there red handkerchief top swings from her finger. Both items are things I wouldn’t have thought twice about sliding into when I was back in London, but here things are different. I know I’m going to be under the watchful eyes of most of the Rosewood High students tonight and it’s something I’d rather avoid as much as possible.
“Or this?” I drag out a pair of white skinny jeans and a red t-shirt.
“Nope, too boring. I allowed you to wear what you wanted to the Dash, and you stood out like a sore thumb. Trust me, you’ll look hot.”
I refrain from explaining that I want to look the opposite of hot so I don’t attract attention, but I know it’s pointless, Camila doesn’t understand.
Taking the clothes she’s still holding out toward me, I turn on my heel and head into the bathroom to change.
My legs look a mile long in this skirt even to my own eyes, it most definitely isn’t going to help me blend in and the top, although sexy, is even smaller than I remember.
With a huff, I throw the bathroom door open and storm toward Camila. “Can we compromise? The skirt and a t-shirt or the top and jeans?” I ask, exasperated.
“Whoa, you’re not serious?” Her eyes almost pop out of her head when she turns and runs them over me. “I’m not into chicks, but I’d totally do you.”
“That’s the problem, Cam. I don’t want anyone to look at me and want to ‘do me.’ I just want to hide.” My frustration about this is beginning to get the better of me.
“Even Jake?” Her serious eyes hold mine and my stomach twists. Can she read my mind?
“No, especially not him.”
“Really? Don’t think I haven’t clocked the change in the two of you. The air between you crackles even from across the school.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, you said he wasn’t going tonight.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.”
Narrowing my eyes at her, I suddenly get the feeling that she might be stretching the truth slightly.
“It’s what I’ve heard,” she repeats, her hands up in defeat. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
When we walk into the stadium ready for the game a few hours later, it’s with red and white face paint across our cheeks and Rosewood flags in our hands. I felt ridiculous in Camila’s car but as we join the rest of the school and I realise it’s not just the two of us looking like this, I feel a little better.
She eventually relented and I manage to get away with wearing the white skirt with a simple
red t-shirt. I feel a little more comfortable, but I also didn’t miss some of the stares in my direction as we walked from the car.
The game is much like last week’s. The excitement is through the roof, the chants are so loud that it makes the stands beneath my feet vibrate and the elation when we score first is beyond belief.
I’ve still no clue about the game so while everyone oohs and ahhs around me, I try my best to join in and learn what it is they’re so excited or disappointed about.
As we’re beginning to get toward the end of the sixty minutes we’re winning, but only just. That’s when everything starts to unravel. The crowd goes quiet as the ball flies up in the air toward the other team’s end of the field. The sound of Shane’s name being screamed fills my ears as he takes off toward it to defend their current winning position, but just as he should grab it, he fumbles. The ball hits the ground right before one of the other team’s players picks it up and scores.
Shane’s shoulders drop in defeat as a couple of his teammates slap him on the back in support while the other team celebrates. Everything seems fine until Rosewood’s quarterback comes storming across the field in Shane’s direction. The stadium falls silent, Jake’s intentions obvious from his body language. The second he steps in front of Shane his hands come out and he forcefully pushes against his chest. The rest of the Rosewood team turn to find their captain taking out all his frustrations on Shane. It takes a couple of seconds for them to react and when they do, it takes two of our guys to pull Jake away.
It all happens so fast, but one moment he’s wrestling with Shane and the next he’s been sent off and is disappearing from sight, I presume toward the locker rooms.
“Well that was dramatic,” Camila comments beside me as the teams get ready to continue for the final few minutes. Rosewood is now behind and tensions are running very high for them to pull off this win. “Don’t look so worried, they’ll do it,” she says when she glances over at me.
“Oh, I’m not worried.”
“You might want to tell yourself that. You look as tense as a virgin at an orgy.”
“What!?” I balk, dragging my eyes from where Jake disappeared to look at her.
“Ohhh,” she sings like she’s just figured something out. “You totally want to go after him, don’t you?”
“Huh?” I try to come across confused, but I know exactly what she means and I’m having a hard time not doing exactly what she just suggested. It’s crazy, I know, but something is calling for me to follow him. To find out what his problem is and if he’s okay.
“Don’t play all innocent. You know as well as I do that his issue with Shane is you. You said yourself that he was a pain in the ass at Aces last night during your date—”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Ugh, whatever. He wants you, and Shane’s standing in his way.”
“There’s nothing going on with Shane.” My voice is exasperated. How many times do I need to repeat this?
“I know this. You know this. But does Jake?”
“Why would he care? He hates me.”
“Does he?”
Suddenly a roar erupts around us, Camila’s head whips toward the field and I follow to find the team celebrating a very last-minute touchdown which gives Rosewood the win seconds before the end-of-game whistle.
My chest swells with pride as I watch the guys on the field celebrate, but something tugs at my chest when I see Mason pull off his helmet and look around for his absent best friend. He’s soon distracted when Ethan pulls him in for a celebratory hug. I’ve no idea if Camila’s right and all of that was basically my fault, but I feel awful nonetheless. I don’t want to get between anyone, especially if it’s going to affect so many others like a loss here tonight would have.
“Let’s get out of here. It’s time to party!” Camila sings, grabs my hand and pulls me from the stands along with everyone else who’s rushing to get out of here and start celebrating properly.
As we exit the stadium, I can’t help looking back toward where I know the locker rooms are. I wonder if he’s still in there?
29
Jake
My entire body is locked tight with frustration. I’ve spent most of the day with that fucker in all my classes and then out on the field tonight. Every time I look at him, all I can see in his eyes is I have something you want. The image of him laughing with Brit last night in Aces is burned into the back of my mind. At least I know she didn’t spend the night with him.
My cock twitches once again despite the tension taking over my body as the image of her peacefully sleeping comes into mind. I’ve regretted walking away since the second I silently closed her door behind me. If I’d have woken her, what would she have done? Would she have made me leave or would I have got another taste of her? The way she moaned my name certainly hinted toward the fact she might have allowed me to take what I needed.
As I storm away from the school with the sound of the entire student body shouting and screaming with what I hope was our win, my muscles ache. I’m screwing everything up, and as much as I want to blame her for everything, I know it’s all my own doing.
If I’d ignored my burning need for revenge on another woman the first time I laid eyes on her, then none of this would have happened. If I wasn’t so screwed up because of that previously mentioned woman, then I might have been able to deal with all the bullshit in my life. But no, one look at a girl who represents the same thing she did, and I lose all fucking sense of what I’m doing. One thing’s for fucking sure, I wasn’t supposed to want her. I wanted to hurt her, not want to make her fucking mine.
“Argh,” I scream out my frustration into the night.
I should have stuck around for the team to come back into the locker room and for my ear bashing from Coach for losing my temper against one of our own, but I couldn’t stick looking into his eyes once again. That fucker’s got something that belongs to me and I’m not going to roll over and watch it happen.
When the lights of a store come into view in the distance, I decide to try my luck.
I nod at the cashier as I enter and breathe a sigh of relief that it’s a young guy who looks like he might just understand my need for an escape tonight.
I grab a bottle of vodka, a couple of bags of chips and a few pre-made pasta dishes to shove in my fridge once I make it home tonight and carry the lot to the register praying that he’ll just ring it up and let me be on my way.
The guy scans the food, obviously leaving the bottle until the end and my stomach knots. Now I’ve got it in touching distance, I need it more than ever. The relief from my fucked up reality is right there, but he holds all the cards. If he IDs me then I’m fucked. I’ve got a fake at home for these exact situations, but I didn’t think I’d need it tonight.
“Bad night?” the guy asks, his fingers wrapping around the neck of the bottle.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“I’ve got girl issues myself, I know how that can be, man.” His assumption that my issue must be because of a girl pisses me off but sadly, he’s spot on.
“Sucks, huh?”
My mood brightens just a little as the little beep from the register rings through my ears and I watch as the guy drops the bottle into the bag with the rest of my purchases.
“Good luck with your girl,” he calls once I’ve paid and started heading toward the door.
“You too, man.”
Things look up a little as I head toward the beach with my new purchases under my arm. I’m about to forget everything and it couldn’t be more welcome.
I make sure I’m hidden from any passersby and drop down between a couple of dunes. I pull the bottle from the bag and twist the top.
I wince as the first mouthful burns down my throat, but aside from someone punching me in the face for being a total waste of fucking space it’s the exact pain I need.
I swallow another and another until the events of tonight start to get a little hazy. I’m ashamed of my
actions. I’m supposed to be the team captain for fuck’s sake. I should have all our guy’s backs and be fully focused on the game, but I let that slip and all because my head’s too full of her. I thought hurting her would get her out of my head, block the memories she dragged back to the surface, but I was so fucking wrong. She might have dampened down the memories, but she’s most definitely still in my fucking head.
I have no idea how long I sit in the dunes taking shot after shot of the vodka while munching my way through the first bag of chips I picked up, but eventually the ringing of my cell gets impossible to ignore.
Pulling it from my pocket, I look up for the first time and see that the sun has long set and the moon is reflecting in the inky black sea beyond.
I’ve got a stream of missed calls and texts from a range of people, I’m not surprised after my disappearing act but it’s Ethan’s name that once again lights up my screen.
“What?” I bark, the fact I’ve even bothered answering pisses me off.
“You coming to celebrate our win?”
“No. No one will want me there, I almost fucked it up.”
“Enough with the self-pity, Thorn, no one gives a shit. We won in the end, that’s all that matters.”
“I’m good thanks,” I say, looking down at my party for one surrounding me.
“Oh come on, there’s booze and pussy for miles. You know that Shane’s parties are the best bit about having him around. Plus, Amalie’s here and she looks fucking smoking.”
That final statement has me a little more interested and fire beginning to burn in my belly. “Should I care?” I hope the words come out as uninterested, but I have no idea if I succeed. The vodka’s starting to make my head spin to the point I’m losing focus.
“Fuck yeah you should, she’s dancing with Shane, and the way he’s looking at her, man. It’s like he wants to—”
THORN: A High School Bully Romance (Rosewood Book 1) Page 15
