She laughs when he whispers something in her ear, then his mouth latches onto hers. I want to be the one to incite her laughter. I feel my anger rising.
Why do I feel this way? She means nothing to me. Fuck, I was living in a world of turmoil before relocating here. Guilt was my sole emotion, but now I’m starting to feel something else entirely. That’s not fair to Cole. Thoughts of him should always be in the forefront of my mind. Once I graduate, Cin won’t matter anymore. The likelihood of me seeing her again will be slim, and I’ll be able to go back to my pathetic existence. I’m going to prove she doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. I’m tired of self-induced orgasms, anyway. My eyes scan the room until they land on Lilah. She’s talking with a group of girls near the kitchen. Hopefully her offer still stands. I walk up to her.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I say, effectively ending their conversation.
A wide smile spreads across her lips as her eyes light up.
“Sure.”
I grab her wrist, pulling her past Cin and Trevor and up the stairs. When we reach the top, I spot Bri coming down the hall.
“What the fuck is this?”
She glances from my hand circled around Lilah’s wrist to my face.
“Lilah offered to suck my dick and make me come in less than five minutes.”
Bri’s face scrunches in fury. “Bitch!”
“He’s not your boyfriend.”
“I can suck your dick better than she can,” Bri announces.
“You both can suck my dick,” I suggest.
“I’m game. Are you?” Bri arches her eyebrow.
“Absolutely. Lead the way,” Lilah answers.
Bri turns on her heel. We follow her down the hall to a door on the right. She pushes it open, and we follow behind her. My eyes roam around the room when she flicks on the light. This must be her bedroom. I release Lilah’s wrist to walk over to the bed. I tug my jeans and boxers down to my ankles before sitting.
“Are instructions needed?” I ask when neither of them makes a move.
Lilah sits beside me while Bri kneels between my legs. Lilah strokes my length until it’s at full mast.
“You’re so big,” Lilah says in amazement.
I lie back against the mattress, folding my hands behind my head. I moan when Lilah’s mouth begins to move up and down on my dick. Bri rotates between massaging and sucking my balls. I close my eyes, imagining it’s Cin who’s sucking my dick. Lilah wasn’t fucking kidding. She sucks dick like a fucking porn star. How does a high school girl learn how to deep throat? I hear a low creak and crack my eyes open to peer towards the door that was left slightly ajar. I see Cin’s shocked face, but she doesn’t leave. Instead, she watches. Her eyes roam over the scene until they meet mine.
“Shit!” I shout, my cum shooting down Lilah’s throat.
Damn, she made me come in less than five minutes like she claimed she could.
My lids drift closed as the last tremors of my climax subside. When I open them again, Cin is gone.
I can’t believe what I just witnessed. I went upstairs to use the bathroom since the one downstairs was occupied. I only walked towards Bri’s room because I saw the light was on, and I hadn’t seen her since I arrived. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the scene I happened upon. I felt a surge of jealousy. It’s an ugly emotion I shouldn’t have. I’m in a relationship. What Lilah, Bri, and Art do shouldn’t matter to me, but it does.
Trevor isn’t in the living room when I get back, so I make my way to the kitchen. The space is crowded with kids. I’m dismayed to find Danny has started a game of red face. It’s something he made up last summer, where two opponents slap each other senseless until one person gets knocked out. He always wins. Each person has to put up twenty dollars to participate. Zeke stands behind Danny in the unlikely event he’s finally met his match. Robbie stands behind his unfortunate opponent. I wonder how much is on the line. Trevor, Anneli, Dex, Josh and Aiden stand together, watching the show. I walk over to join them.
“Are you okay?” Trevor asks.
“I’m fine.”
Anneli peers over at me. They’re too damn perceptive.
“You sure?” Trevor presses.
“Positive.”
“You have a distressed look on your face, like someone hit your puppy.”
“No, I’m fine.” I laugh it off.
He studies my face.
“How much money is on the table?” I ask to prevent him from commenting on my abrupt change in mood further.
“It’s up to a hundred dollars now. Danny has knocked four people out so far,” Trevor answers.
I breathe a sigh of relief when he doesn’t ask any more questions.
“Let’s go, baby,” Danny shouts.
He brings his arm back as far as he can, then swings it forward full force. The sound of Danny’s palm hitting the face of that poor soul resembles an explosion.
Collective screams, shouts, and laughter resound throughout the kitchen.
The boy falls back into Robbie’s arms. He’s out for the count. Robbie drags his limp body out of the kitchen.
“Who’s next?” Danny peers around the room.
No one steps forward.
“Come on, you bunch of pussies! Who wants a piece?” He raises his arms like a rock star entertaining his fans.
“Me.”
My head whips in the direction of Art’s voice. I hadn’t noticed he came into the kitchen.
“No, your money is no good here,” Danny says.
Art pulls his wallet from his back pocket. He reaches inside, retrieving a hundred-dollar bill.
“Are you sure about that?” He holds up the money for everyone to see.
All noise ceases. Everyone is waiting to see what happens next. Danny is too greedy to pass up this opportunity.
“Okay. Bring it on.”
“This isn’t going to end well,” Anneli says.
“No, it isn’t,” I agree.
“You got this, Danny. Slap the shit out of his ass,” Aiden yells.
Art places the money on the counter, then takes a stance before Danny.
Robbie walks back in. “What the hell? I’m not spotting him.”
“I’ll spot him,” Dex says, stepping behind Art.
Bri and Lilah walk into the kitchen.
“Where were you two?” Anneli asks.
Lilah blushes, while Bri stares at the floor like she sees something interesting.
“You want to go first, bitch?” Danny taunts.
Art smirks. “Ladies first.”
A few kids laugh. Danny’s hand whips across Art’s face without any warning. That was a cheap shot. Art stumbles back a little but recovers superfast, his hand connecting with Danny’s face. Danny loses his footing, causing him to bump into Zeke. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. He spits in the sink. There’s no cheering—it’s deathly silent. Everyone looks on in anticipation, wondering who the victor will be. They go back and forth, smacking the hell out of each other.
“Josh, this is getting dangerous,” I say, a tremor in my voice.
“We broke them up during Chaos. Tonight it ends when one of them falls,” Josh replies.
I peer at Trevor, hoping to get him on my side like last time.
“The pissing match between them isn’t going to stop, and I’m not getting in the middle of it again. Let them kill each other,” Trevor states.
Blood begins to run from Danny’s nose. Art’s face is showing the effects of the game as well.
Danny appears disoriented, barely able to stand.
Enough is enough.
I move in between them in a quest to end this madness.
“Cin! Get back!” Trevor yells.
But it’s too late. Danny’s hand hits my face with the force of a supernova, causing my body to spin around. I’m unable to stop myself as I hit the counter, head first.
“What the fuck happened?” Ricky is seething with rage. His face is as red as a tomato, t
hat’s how pissed he is.
Josh, Trevor, and I don’t speak.
“Somebody better start talking now!” he yells.
A few people waiting to receive services in the emergency room watch us where we stand. Cin’s mom is with her while she receives a CAT scan. Cin was out cold after her head banged against the counter. Blood poured from a gash just above her left eyebrow. Everyone panicked, including me. Some kids were screaming, others were crying. I was so fucking scared. She seemed so lifeless and her skin started to turn pale. It brought me back to that day. She’s hurt, and it’s because of me. I didn’t help her, because I couldn’t. Instead I was in a state of shock. Why am I such a fuckup? I should have left well enough alone and stayed the fuck away from Danny since he hadn’t fucked with me at the party. When I came to my senses, I started beating the fuck out of Danny. It took several people to pull me off him. I’m not sure who called for an ambulance. When the paramedics drove off with her, I hopped on my motorcycle to follow.
“Did you do this, Art?” Ricky asks.
“What the fuck kind of question is that?”
I’m about to punch the shit out of my uncle.
“Your face is all fucked up. What am I supposed to think? She could’ve been defending herself against you,” he continues.
“I didn’t do that to her,” I shout at the top of my lungs.
A security officer starts moving towards us.
“Dad, he didn’t do that to Cin,” Josh says.
“Then somebody better explain.”
“She fell,” Trevor supplies.
“She fell? Am I supposed to believe that bullshit? Why is there a hand print on her face?”
“Hello gentlemen. I have to ask you to please keep your voices down,” the security officer says.
“Sorry,” Ricky says.
“It’s what happened,” Josh adds.
“So that’s the story you guys are going to stick to, huh? That still doesn’t explain what happened to your face, Art.”
No one says a word.
“When she wakes up, she better have the same explanation.” Ricky walks off.
“You and Danny messed up big time,” Josh accuses.
“I know,” I acknowledge.
I don’t know what I’m going to do if her injuries are serious.
“I’m to blame too. Cin wanted me to stop them, but I wouldn’t,” Trevor says.
“I guess we all share in the blame.” Josh rubs the back of his neck.
Sometime later Ricky returns with Cin’s mother. Josh and Trevor don’t give a fuck about me, but our concern for Cin keeps us together. We stand at their approach.
“How is she?” I ask.
“She’s doing well, but she does have a concussion. The gash on her eye looks a lot worse than it really is. The doctor wants her to remain here for a few more hours, just to be on the safe side,” Missy answers.
“Is she awake?” Trevor asks.
“She was for a bit, but she fell asleep again. The doctor said she needs to rest, so no visitors. Go home, boys. She’ll be coming home in a few hours. Trevor, I’ll give you a phone call later.”
Dawn is breaking over the horizon by the time we make it home. My mom helps me upstairs and into bed. My eye is swollen shut, and I have a massive migraine.
She kisses my forehead. “Send me a text if you need anything.”
I keep my eyes closed because the world spins around me when I open them. Any movement of my head causes severe pain, so I give her the “okay” hand gesture instead of nodding. I hear the click of my door closing, but after a few minutes I hear it open again. I crack my eyes open.
“That was really stupid of you.” Art moves towards the bed.
“Have you heard of knocking?”
“Why on earth would you jump in the middle of us? You’re lucky all you got was a concussion.”
“What you and Danny were doing was stupid and dangerous. What would’ve happened if I hadn’t intervened?”
“That’s not your concern. You put yourself at risk. Next time, stay out of it.”
“If there’s a next time, I’ll jump in the middle of it again.”
“Goddamn it, Cin.”
I whimper.
“What is it?”
“My head hurts so bad.”
“Didn’t the doctors give you medicine?”
“Yes, and a prescription, but it only lessens the pain.”
“I’ll get you some ice to put on your eye.”
“Thank you.”
A few minutes later, Art returns. He lies on the bed beside me, guiding my head onto his chest to hold the bag of ice on my eye. He runs his fingers through my hair. I relax against him, enjoying the scalp massage he’s giving me.
“I saw you watching us.”
“I was not watching,” I sputter.
“You were.”
“I wasn’t. So are you all in a poly-relationship now?” I ask.
He laughs. “Not hardly.”
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself quite a bit.”
“So, you admit you were watching.”
“I just glanced.”
“If you say so.”
“What the fuck is this?” Trevor snarls.
“Art got some ice for me because my eye is killing me.”
“I can take over from here.”
The instant tension in my bedroom is suffocating.
“Art, please go. We already had enough excitement for one night.” I’m so exhausted. I can’t deal with this right now.
Art gently lowers my head onto the pillow, then guides my hand to the bag of ice before leaving. Trevor takes the space Art vacated seconds ago.
“That was really stupid, Cin.”
“So I’ve been told,” I deadpan.
“This is serious!”
I wince. “Lower your voice.”
“I’m sorry. I was stupid for not breaking it up when you asked me to.”
“I know.”
“Rub it in, why don’t you?” he jokes then his tone turns serious. “I don’t like that he was holding you.”
“He wasn’t holding me. He was helping me.”
“He was playing with your hair.”
“I’m really tired, and I don’t feel like fighting.”
“Okay, I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”
I yawn. “Thank you.”
The last week has been boring. I stayed home from school Monday and Tuesday since I still wasn’t feeling one hundred percent. Ricky and my mom grilled me about what happened that night, but I told them I couldn’t remember. I didn’t want to contradict any story that was already told to them. Everyone coddled me and made sure I was comfortable. Art came to my bedroom whenever Trevor wasn’t around to stay with me for a while. We barely talked, just idle chitchat here and there, but the silence was nice. Maybe I should smash my face into kitchen counters more often. Though I was given a clean bill of health to go back to school on Wednesday, the doctor told me to take it easy and avoid jogging for the rest of the week. It was really hard not to do something I love. I can’t remember a time when jogging wasn’t a part of my daily routine.
The bruise on my eye is healing perfectly, but it’s still a bit discolored. A light scar will be left for sure. Danny did some epic groveling. It was hilarious. He carried my books, brought lunch to the table for me, and asked if I was okay every five seconds when I was in his presence. It’s Saturday again, and I’m determined to go on a morning jog. I rise with the sun, putting on my jogging gear before going downstairs. I walk towards the kitchen to get a drink of water before heading out. Art steps out of the bathroom.
“Good morning,” I say.
He doesn’t return the greeting. There are heavy bags under his eyes. His nightmares must’ve kept him up all night.
“Are you okay?”
He walks by me without saying a word.
I grab his arm. “Talk to me.”
He slams me against the wall, sli
ding his forearm across my neck. “We are not friends. Got it?”
I thought he and I had an understanding. His behavior is volatile, like a dog that turns on its owner unexpectedly and without provocation. The demons riding him are relentless in their pursuit to destroy him.
“Stay out of my damn way before I fucking hurt you,” he growls.
I drop to my knees when he releases me, gasping for oxygen. He slams his bedroom door shut. How can things change between us within the span of a few days? I clamber to my feet and storm towards his bedroom to demand he tell me what the fuck his problem is. My courage evaporates the moment my hand grasps the doorknob. I know if I enter his bedroom, something will happen that can’t be undone. I don’t know if that’s something I’m willing to risk. Art is a wild card. I turn away a little less excited about my morning jog.
I stand at the door willing her to come in. My body vibrates with energy. My control is hanging by a thread.
Open the door. Open the door. Open the door… I continuously chant inside my head. I swear to fucking God, if she opens that door I’ll be balls deep in her cunt with her face buried in the mattress in less than five seconds. When she releases the door and leaves, I almost go after her to drag her in here whether she wants to come or not. Instead, I punch holes in the wall until my fists bleed.
Thoughts of Cole haunt my dreams until I wake up in a cold sweat, but the end of the dream isn’t the end of my torment. My brain will not shut down—it is on replay, that night running through my head over and over again. I reach for my razor and begin cutting myself, to get my mind off Cole, and it helps for a little while. I don’t know how much longer I can live like this.
I open my eyes to the sound of someone knocking on my door. I’m not good company to be around today, so for the most part I’ve stayed in my bedroom.
“Open up. It’s your favorite cousin.”
I’m definitely not responding to that motherfucker, but the bastard comes in, uninvited. Fuck, I should’ve locked the damn door.
“It’s time to get up, asshole,” Josh says.
When Art Rises: Living in Cin: (A Twisted Interracial High School Love Triangle) Page 8
