Revenge Love

by Kata Čuić

  “Paging Dr. Hastings.” Jason’s foot makes contact with my shin.

  I tear my gaze away from the oddly anger-inducing mural. Maybe it’s only pulling out the emotions I already feel, rather than creating them within me. “She thinks we should date. Pretend to be in an actual relationship.”

  A range of emotions crosses Jason’s bruised face. He finally settles on hysterical laughter. “Oh, she does, does she?”

  “I told her I wouldn’t agree to that,” I assure him, glancing around to make certain his boisterous antics aren’t drawing any attention. “I just got out of a bad fake relationship, and I’m not about to jump into another.”

  He sobers, tilting his head to the side to study me. “What makes you think it was fake?”

  The same rage I felt staring at the painting on the wall reignites in my veins. “You already know everything about it. You’re the one who insists Kieran’s lying about his dead girlfriend.”

  He nods slowly. “He is lying. Doesn’t mean I don’t believe he didn’t give you all he was capable of.”

  “Well, that’s not good enough for me.” I stand, my chair screeching against the linoleum with the abrupt movement. There’s no sense pretending to eat anymore. I’ve delivered the message. My work is done here.

  My intended departure comes to a screeching halt when I turn only to be met with Hayleigh’s displeased frown.

  “Emma. Why would you sit with him?” The way she refers to Jason sounds like garbage must taste—putrid and unfit for human consumption. Her expression changes in the blink of an eye, an almost secretive smile dancing in her blue eyes as she leans toward me. “Don’t believe what you’ve always been told. Men like him won’t actually try harder to please a woman just because they have more to prove.”

  Several questions spar in my mind, and in my shock, I blurt them out in rapid-fire succession. “I thought you didn’t know him? You said you don’t remember us all going to high school together. I’ve never heard anything about ‘men like him before.’ What are you talking about?”

  She glances around at the few of our SST sisters who flank her, sharing an inside joke with them I’m apparently not in on. “You’ve really never heard you’re supposed to sow your wild oats with the popular jocks, but marry the outcast nerds? It’s called an MRS degree, honey. The guys who could only get dates with their hands will buy you a fat rock, build you the biggest mansion, and adorn you in all the designer clothes you could ever want. While they’re busy working the insane hours required to maintain that kind of wealth, the pool boy slash ex-Homecoming King will take care of the needs your husband will never be able to meet.”

  Something else dances in her eyes. Something I can’t place, but that instantly makes me sad for her. Where Rosie reacted with disgust and abandoned this woman to her own demise, I want to know more. I want to know why. Maybe we have more in common than I ever imagined. Maybe Hayleigh has her own Kieran in her past. “What happened to you to make you so jaded?”

  For a split second, the smile falters on Hayleigh’s pretty face. One glance at the sisters waiting on her word prompts her to replace her mask. In a surprising show of caring, she places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We’re seniors this year. In seven months, we’ll begin the rest of our lives. Come sit with us, and we’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

  I glance back to excuse myself from Jason in the interests of keeping up appearances, but only his empty chair remains. Like a ghost I’m not even really sure I had a conversation with, he’s gone.

  Ruby, one of our sisters, loops her arm through mine as I’m dragged to the center of the cafeteria. “I don’t blame you for wanting to hit that. Underneath all the ugly are pecs I’d happily lick until my tongue was raw.”

  Hayleigh wrinkles her nose. “Sigma sisters do not lower our standards. For anything.”

  “Oh, lighten up, H.” Priya rolls her eyes. “You said it yourself. We’re sowing our wild oats. No one is saying she should marry the guy.”

  “Why would any of you need an MRS degree?” I fight the urge to make air quotes around the detestable term. “You’re all going to grad school after Wellbridge, and I’m sure you’ll be plenty successful on your own.”

  Priya talks around her mouthful of salad, pointing her fork at me. “I’m with you, girl. No sense wasting my time on an undergraduate man-child. I’m holding out for more mature guys next year. And I plan on making the best contender earn his MR degree.”

  Ruby laughs, then wraps her arm around me. “No one blames you for still being a virgin. Priya’s right. Wellbridge doesn’t have much to offer. Netflix and vibes are the way to go for a few more months.”

  My cheeks heat to flaming levels. No one has mentioned my own personal reveal to my face until now. I was beginning to think it was already forgotten news. No such luck. I guess that’s what I get for gambling.

  Hayleigh eyes me like she knows I’m hiding something. “How is Panhell going? We hardly see you around the SST house anymore.”

  “Panhell is great!” I lower my volume, so I won’t appear so eager for the subject change. “I’m on the Holiday Bash planning committee, so the bulk of our work is done during the fall semester. I’ll have more time in the spring to devote to SST duties, but I wouldn’t dare dishonor our house by giving less than a hundred and ten percent for now.”

  I leave out the part about not being needed around our sorority since I got passed over for a little. Again.

  She nods, seemingly satisfied.

  Chatter turns toward last night’s reveals, but I tune it out. I know more than I want to. I nod in all the appropriate places, smile when expected, but it’s like my mind disconnects and floats to another place.

  For the first time I can remember, I don’t daydream about anything at all. My mind is completely blank—an empty canvas waiting for the painter to decide which muse calls to him the loudest.

  “Emma?” Hayleigh snaps her fingers in my face. “Did you hear me?”

  “No,” I confess, then lie. “I was thinking about how much homework I have to do tonight.”

  “I said, if you want to lose your V-card with Jason, then go ahead. Since all the other ladies on campus are fighting over him, it will actually make our house look good if you win his attention.”

  Two things strike me dumb, rendering me only capable of gaping at my sorority president. One: she sure seems to know his name now. And two: I wasn’t aware I needed permission from my sorority to be with anyone.

  Lie: Good things come to those who wait.

  “You’re a hard woman to track down these days.” Kieran appears out of the shadows, stepping directly in my path. “Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

  I push past him and continue toward my genetics class. “For the same reason I shouldn’t be seen with you on campus. We don’t want to leave an evidence trail. You should probably delete my contact info from your phone.”

  He falls in step beside me, his hands thrust in the pockets of his faded jeans casually, like we’re any couple on campus, catching up between our busy schedules. “You covered our tracks quite well as I recall, and Josh handles the rest. Relax. It’s fine.”

  I close my eyes for the briefest moment, envisioning stuffing my anger into a tiny box, closing and locking it, then throwing away the key. Rosie has been salivating for the chance to get inside Kieran’s head. I can’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers by punching him and screaming at him the way I want to.

  “Why are you suddenly so eager to talk? Talking was never what we did together before.” I was aiming for seductive, but the tone of my voice sounds more like constipated.

  Kieran smiles at me. I’m reminded of how deliciously handsome he is. Unfortunately, I can’t ignore that I also know how manipulative, blood-thirsty, and driven to win at all costs he is, too. “I wanted to know what you thought of my game-changing play last night. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” I squeak. “You went behind my ba
ck and undid everything I’ve worked for to protect us. I told you I would handle the reveals. Why couldn’t you trust me to do my job?”

  He stops suddenly, gripping my arm to turn me toward him. His eyebrows raise just the slightest bit, but something terrifying dances in his eyes. “Maybe because I know what you’ve been doing. Maybe because I learned a long time ago not to trust anyone.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Too late, it occurs to me Hayleigh delivered the same line when she claimed she didn’t know Jason. I didn’t believe her, either.

  “That’s okay, Dr. Sunshine.” Kieran’s lips curl as he uses Jason’s nickname for me. I’m not even sure how he knows about it, but it sounds blood-curdling rolling off his tongue. “I’m proud of you for protecting yourself and learning how to play the game well. I always knew you had it in you.”

  Praise from such a disgusting excuse for a human feels more like an insult.

  “If you’re so convinced I’m turning over a new leaf, then you must know I realize calling me out comes with a price for your silence. What do you want?”

  “Good for you. Straight to the point, with an understanding of what’s to come.” He leans forward and nuzzles his nose against my ear, inhaling. To anyone passing by, we must look like lovers stealing an intimate moment.

  Shivers overtake me, and a coil of shame spirals in my stomach. How did I ever think he was worth my time?

  “I want you to handle Jason. After his little stunt at the last fight, it’s obvious he’s trying to be in control. That can’t happen.”

  “Why?”

  Kieran pulls back, blinking in genuine confusion. “Why do I think you’re the woman for the job? You’re already letting him fuck you. It’s obvious he wants to prove himself in more ways than one. I don’t blame him for wanting to be like me. Put him on a leash and reel him in tighter.”

  That little lockbox in my mind wobbles around, a clanging sound echoing through my brain as my rage begs to be set free. “Why can’t Jason be in control? He does all your dirty work for you. He’s the one getting injured every weekend while you earn money you don’t even need. He’s obviously not going to walk away since you’re using me as leverage. You’ve got him right where you want him. If you’re really such a champion of the underdog, then what’s the harm in boosting his ego and letting him have a little free rein?”

  “Oh.” Kieran’s eyes widen with obvious understanding. “You’re not letting him fuck you in my place out of pity. You actually have a soft spot for him.” He chuckles. “I honestly thought I was shooting in the dark by using you two as leverage against each other. I didn’t realize my aim was dead on.”

  I stiffen my spine. He already knows too much. “Maybe you judged me correctly, but that’s not so in Jason’s case. He really does hate me. If anything, he’s fucking me as a way to stick it to us both. He’s jealous you got to me first. In fact, he’s tasked me to handle you.”

  A smug smile crosses Kieran’s face. He traces his finger from my lips to my cleavage. “Is that right? And how are you gonna handle me, sweetheart?”

  I smile sweetly at him, channeling all the inner sunshine my mother believes I’m capable of right before kneeing Kieran in the baby makers. He doesn’t need them, anyway. He’s pledged eternal faithfulness to a dead woman. I bend down, making sure he hears every word I utter in his ear. “I’m no one’s bitch. Got it? If the three of you think you can play me against each other, think again. I’m the wild card you never saw coming.”

  I shake off my fantasy as Kieran’s hand makes contact with my breast. “He doesn’t hate you. Trust me. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when no one’s watching. It won’t take much convincing to make him purr at your feet. In fact, maybe making him jealous is the way to go.”

  Before I can make good on my fantasy, Kieran’s mouth is on mine. Everything I wanted from him before—passion, fire, possessiveness—tastes sour and tainted on my tongue. In spite of my wishful thinking, I can’t break free of his grasp. I’m everything Jason once accused me of being. Compared to Kieran’s muscular, toned body, I stand no chance of saving myself.

  As I gasp for breath, another desperate daydream blooms in my brain. Jason decides to look for me, to apologize for abandoning me at lunch. Instead, he finds me struggling in Kieran’s clutches and pulls us apart only to prove Kieran never stood a chance against him in a fair fight.

  My savior is the last person I expect.

  Kieran releases me after several very obvious throat clearings over my shoulder.

  “I know you’re hot for her pussy, but Jesus, Kieran. People are starting to stare. Mouth fucking isn’t something you see every day at Wellbridge.”

  “Neither are lesbians,” he fires back without blinking.

  Her smile looks downright dangerous, which is only reinforced when she steps up to him, running her finger down his chest much in the same way he did to me. “Oh, sweetheart. There are more of us than you know. The only difference between me and them? I’m not afraid to let my freak flag fly anymore. I don’t scare easily these days. Maybe you should remember that.”

  “Is that a threat?” He narrows his eyes.

  She steps back, shoulder to shoulder with me, her expression completely peaceful. “No, no. There are no threats between friends. And we’re all friends here, right?”

  For some odd reason, her proclamation of friendship seems to be the thing to finally shake his calm demeanor. He visibly swallows. “I’ll see you both around. Think about what I said, Emma.”

  We watch him slither back into the shadows from whence he came.

  “How much of that did you overhear?”

  Rosie purses her lips. “Enough. Skip class and come have a drink with me. I think you could use one. Or five.”

  “We can’t be seen together. I’m walking a fine line with Hayleigh as it is. If I want to keep my position in SST and on Panhell, then I have to play by her rules. Besides, you know bailing on classes isn’t my thing.”

  She shakes her head, a rueful smile that doesn’t look the least bit offended parting her lips. “Day drinking isn’t your thing, either. In this case, it’ll provide us enough cover to be out in public. No one else will be at the bar this early.”

  She makes a fair point, and frankly, after the events of this afternoon, I honestly could use the drink. “Fine. I’ll meet you at our usual spot.”

  Twenty minutes later, we’re tucked into a corner table in our favorite place just off campus. Neither of us are stupid enough to draw attention to ourselves by sitting at our usual spot at the bar.

  I glance around me at the dirty walls and try not to touch the sticky table. Years of spilled drinks can’t be cleaned with a simple bar rag, it would seem. With the booth at my back and the door in front of me, I feel like a spy ensuring no one will catch me by surprise. From this perspective, I see the allure of living life on the fringes the way Jason does. It’s relaxing to sit back and observe rather than trying so hard to engage.

  Our traditional Irish Car Bombs grace the table. Rosie throws back the shot of whiskey and cream, then chases it quickly with her beer, downing the pint in one go.

  “Geez,” I mutter. “You act like Kieran kissed you earlier.”

  “It was nauseating and unsettling to even witness, let alone experience.” She shudders, then pulls her extra Guinness in front of her, sipping slowly this time. “Are you okay?”

  The Bailey’s rolls over my tongue—velvety soft—before the Jameson punches my throat. It sears a path to my belly, warming me all over. I almost don’t want to ruin the experience with the liquid bread. “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like I haven’t had sex with him before.”

  “Yeah, but you were a willing participant before,” she points out. “It was obvious you did not want his tongue down your throat today.”

  “No. I didn’t,” I admit softly, tracing my finger around the pint glass to avoid making eye contact. “It was everything I used to want, but it felt so wro
ng.”

  She bumps my shoulder with hers. “Because you know about his dead girlfriend now?”

  I wince, realizing even though she knows I had sex with him again after finding out his secret, she isn’t shaming me about it. Maybe she understands it took some time for that little fact to really sink in for me. I shake myself out of my guilt. Rosie isn’t exactly the person I confide in these days.

  “I need to tell you some stuff.” She takes a deep breath as if she realizes our old friendship is gone. If she wants me to open up, she’ll have to go first. “I have more than one reason for suggesting you date Jason as a way to throw Kieran off his game. Hell, I had more than one reason for texting Jason about you in the first place.”

  “Are you telling me this because you overheard Kieran suggest it, too?” What started out as an intrinsically horrible scheme is quickly spiraling out of control. The irony everyone is trying to regain the upper hand by playing against each other isn’t lost on me. Whatever Rosie tells me now could be more games.

  “Yes and no. I’ll admit if Kieran wants you to do it as a way to control Jason, that could just be another tool in our arsenal.”

  “Or it could backfire in spectacular fashion when Kieran doesn’t get what he wants, even if I do as I’m told.”

  She takes another sip of beer, her expression thoughtful. “It was good you admitted to him you’re trying to handle him, and that it was Jason’s idea. That’ll make him doubt himself even more.”

  A dull throbbing pulses at the base of my skull. I would honestly rather be in genetics right now rather than listening to more plans about how we can beat each other in a dire game of chess. “Is that what you wanted to tell me? That I did well?”

  “No.” She straightens, shaking her head as if to clear it. “The truth of the matter is, I’ve been trying to play matchmaker between you and Jason for a while now.”

  My laughter echoes around the bar, causing everyone to stare. Thankfully, they’re no one we know because it takes several more minutes for me to control myself. “I never pictured you as the Jane Austen type. Emma is my name.”