On Edge

by Gin Price

  Maybe that made me the sneaky jerk.

  I looked into his eyes and smiled, feeling comfort and excitement until he pulled me against him and brushed the corner of my mouth with his lips.

  What the—? I drew in a deep breath and stiffened. His kiss so unexpected I did the idiot thing and froze.

  In my head, I played through his possible motives for wanting to kiss me, and the fact he might actually want me came in dead last on the list.

  After a moment, my lack of response brought him up from the chaste kiss.

  He looked down at me. “Too soon?” I blushed and wanted to scream, No! but my voice was held hostage by my tight throat. “Okay then.” He grinned and his hands fell to his sides.

  Disappointed, and more than a little annoyed, I silently berated myself. I wanted Haze to kiss me and I just made the biggest ass out of myself by acting like a scared virgin. Didn’t matter that I was one! Timid girls didn’t get the hot boys, no matter what the movies said.

  “After last night I got a little excited, I guess. Let’s just start out with a non-threatening talk.”

  “Okay,” I managed to say after chiseling myself out from the wall of self-hatred.

  “Glad you could make it.” He sounded sincere.

  Oh. OH! That reminded me I couldn’t actually “make it.” Ugh. Guilt times ten. “Yeah…about that…”

  “No way! Are you ditching the art closet hour? How come? If it’s the attempted kissing thing, you can smack me in defense of your honor if you’d like. I’m cool with it.” He smiled at me crookedly, in that sexy way and I felt my plan to meet up with Liv wad up like a paper ball and sail toward the virtual trash can.

  “No. No, it’s not that. It’s Liv. She wanted to hang out,” I said weakly.

  “Psh. Liv will understand…” When I rolled my eyes he added, “…if you lie to her. Unless you want to use Liv as a reason to run from me. But hey, I can totally understand loyalty. You’ll miss out on some cave-drawing fun, though. I planned to open up a few jars of paint, sniff the fumes and get down on these walls Neanderthal-style. It won’t be as fun alone and of course, I might get so paint-stoned I fall and crack my skull open only for some janitor to discover me later, half-conscious covered in rotten egg-smelling blue, red, and yellow goo.”

  “Who sniffs paint anymore?”

  “Not anyone I wanna know.” He smiled. “But people do dumb things when they’re lonely and bored.”

  I bit my lip to keep from laughing, aware that the hallways had quieted and my laughter would carry. Man, he was fighting dirty, insinuating his future injuries would be my fault for leaving him. But I liked it. “You know what?” I felt nervous, knowing I was about to choose a boy over my best friend. “Liv will understand.” Eventually.

  My worry over Liv’s reaction diminished behind Haze’s wicked grin. Guys knew how to work their cuteness to get them whatever they wanted. Or so my Pops told me a year or so ago in one very awkward conversation. Now that I stood in front of Exhibit A, I totally understood what he meant. The thought made my smile widen.

  “What are you grinning at?”

  “You’re grinning, too,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, but yours looks devious.”

  I laughed as quietly as I could, remembering where we were. “Not devious. I was thinking of something my Pops told me.”

  “You’re in a closet with me and thinking about your dad?”

  “Jealous?”

  “You caught me.” He held up his hands in a guilty gesture before reaching for a jar of paint to fidget with.

  “I was thinking about all the warnings my father has given me about boys and their intentions when they get me alone.”

  Haze thought about that for a second and then shrugged. “He’s not wrong. But I’m not the type to throw myself at a girl, willing or not. Er…usually. You seem to be the exception.”

  “Uh huh.” I could practically hear Surge. The man doth protest too much.

  “Say what’s on your mind, LL. Ask me.”

  He lifted himself up with one hand onto a piece of plywood thrown over a laundry sink in the back and sat down, leaving the upturned bucket for me.

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath. The conversation had the ability to turn into an insult-fest, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Diplomacy was needed and I wasn’t sure I was qualified to use it. “Put yourself in my shoes. I meet you while my brother and his friends have you surrounded and ready for a pummel.”

  “I can handle your brother,” he said, flipping the jar of paint between his hands. The tone of his voice didn’t come off as cocky but confident, confirming my suspicions that day.

  “Yeah. You’ve had some training?”

  “My parents have always been a little protective. They realized they couldn’t keep me locked up in my room, so they decided to send me out in the world with a little leg up.”

  “What are you trained in?”

  “I have a black belt in karate, and a green belt in jujitsu.”

  “Cool.”

  “It’s helped. But street fighting and arena fighting are two different things.”

  “Right,” I said and nodded.

  “What about you? I saw you flip off that wall to get in between your brother and me, and I have to say…dayum.”

  He might be more mature than most of the guys I knew, but he was still boy enough to be a flirt! “I’m a gymnast,” I told him.

  “Hot! You any good?”

  “I won all-around at regionals. I should get a scholarship out of it next year as long as I avoid injury.”

  “When’s your next practice? Can I come watch?” His question matched his leering grin.

  I smiled a little. “Maybe some day. Right now there’s a whole lotta weird with the two teams merging and all. There’s gonna be a struggle for power soon.”

  “Oh? And how do you know that?”

  “Because I plan to initiate it.” I grinned when he laughed. “I have to. Most of the girls on my team can’t stand me, thanks to Wenda, and I think she’s going to start working on the Branfort team and get them aboard the LL hate train.”

  “Sport politics. I guess you know how good you are by how many people hate you.”

  “I guess.”

  The topic was starting to depress me and he seemed to sense it.

  “So. We’re both go-getters. No wonder we’re digging each other.”

  What a cocky bastard! “You don’t know that I’m digging you.”

  “You’re in a closet with me.”

  “It’s a big closet.”

  He laughed. “And you’re risking your brother’s wrath.”

  “I could just be curious.”

  The look on his face said he clearly didn’t believe me. He threw my words from earlier right back at me. “Uh huh.”

  He had me, and he knew it. I was in the closet because I liked him and I suspected we’d make a good match. We both had activities that society viewed as good, and activities some considered beautiful but were viewed as bad by the majority. For me, parkour and gymnastics were close cousins but karate and graffiti showed the range of talent Haze had. For that reason alone, he was squee-worthy.

  We talked about silly things for the majority of the hour. Favorite foods, colors, music, movies…all of the things that usually come out over months. We rushed through the mundane questions, wanting to know our compatibility now.

  Our “courtship” didn’t have the luxury of time. If we were discovered, even later today, we’d have to make a snap decision as to whether or not we wanted to go forward with a relationship or cut it off to satisfy our respective crews. A light dating process was pretty much impossible.

  We both knew that, and Haze inviting me into this art closet was a loud admission on his part. He liked me enough to take a risk. I knew that mean
t I would have to start trusting him.

  Toward the end of the hour we came back to discussing our activities, specifically freerunning.

  “You should teach me.”

  I didn’t think I heard him right. “You wanna learn parkour?”

  “Yeah. I figure, like my karate stuff, parkour will help me in the grid.”

  “It can’t hurt. Especially while running from the Po-po.”

  He did that skeptical eyebrow thing. “Do a lot of running from authority, do you?”

  As embarrassing as it was to admit, I had to nod. “Parkour is too new to the cops to be understood, I guess. They call us trespassers but I think it’s because they don’t know what else to say about us. We jump on buildings and run along the roof, then hop from fire-escape to windowsill and down before they can blink. They aren’t sure if what we’re doing is wrong, they just know we’re doing something they don’t approve of. So the tickets usually read trespassing.”

  “Escaping is probably easy.”

  “It can be. But Warp had a cop pull a gun on him before. A rookie fresh outta the academy. I thought Pops was going to explode.”

  Haze grinned. “Your dad…or Pops, sounds like a formidable dude. I’m surprised he didn’t take someone out.”

  “His brother’s a cop in Metro Detroit. In high crime cities, cops are a little jumpy. Everyone trying to kill them every day and all. I can understand their asshole-ery, I suppose, yanno? And Pops taught us to respect police authority while pushing our limits. It’s a weird balance that sometimes gets screwed. Warp, these days…” I silenced myself and shook my head. I felt a sense of loyalty to my brother, knowing he wouldn’t want me talking about him behind his back, especially to a guy he’d taken an instant dislike to.

  “You’re worried about him.”

  It wasn’t a question, since he’d obviously read concern on my face, but I didn’t want to talk about it.

  Probably sensing my reluctance, he changed the subject. “So when are you gonna teach me?”

  “Uhh…”

  “Unless you’re too busy?”

  I wasn’t busy so much as under the heel of a very protective and prone-to-violence brother, but teaching Haze meant spending more time with him. I’d have to find a way.

  ***

  “You’re damned crazy, girl!”

  Surge and his plainspeak always made me grin.

  “Oh, come on! You’ll love it, Surge.”

  “Going behind your brother’s back to train a guy he wants to beat the crap out of? I’m not loving it at all.”

  “Haze probably wouldn’t lose in a fight against Warp.”

  Surge stared me straight in the eye with his unamused chocolate browns. “Focus, LL.”

  I laughed and sat down on the curb at the corner. We were a few feet down from my house, but I wasn’t ready to go home yet. I needed to convince Surge to help me with teaching Haze parkour.

  “There isn’t much to do. It’s all about teaching him the technique, how to fall, how to land, and all that. Everything else comes from him, so I’m pretty much asking you to call an ambulance when he cracks his head or sprains something.”

  The corners of Surge’s mouth crinkled in that disapproving way of his, which usually indicated his eventual cave.

  “Look,” I pressed on. “I’d do it myself but if I went off on my own, Warp would want to know why. He’d get all up in my business and then freak if he found out. A huge war between writers and traceurs would—”

  “Okay, okay,” Surge conceded in a huff as he sat down next to me. He hooked an arm around my shoulders and squeezed harder than was necessary. “You’re a pain in my ass, LL, but I love ya. Not much I wouldn’t do for you.”

  I turned toward him, grinning. “It’s a mutual thing, Surge.”

  For a second, I thought I saw some of that sexual confusion Surge had confided to me cross his face and wondered if he was contemplating sneaking a kiss to see how it felt. Or maybe I had it all wrong and he just had something really important to tell me.

  A horn honked several times and we both turned our attention to the car.

  “What the…?”

  A half-block away, a true beater of the eighties revved its engine. Tires squealing, the car took off from the stop sign and roared past Surge and me at the corner.

  I caught a glimpse of Haze in the passenger seat, staring at me with a look of confusion and possibly hurt. I frowned, and felt the impulse to yell, “It’s not what you think…he’s kinda gay,” but there wasn’t time, and I wouldn’t destroy Surge’s trust, no matter how helpful it would be for me. With Decay at the wheel, the vehicle sped down the road, fishtailing in an attempt to show Surge and me how cool the idiot driving thought he was.

  “Wasn’t that your boy? He didn’t look thrilled.”

  “He’s not my boy,” I said. When I noticed Surge’s eyes on me, I caved. “Yet. And if he isn’t thrilled, then he has his own assumptions to blame.”

  Despite my outward attitude, inside I hoped Haze would let me explain before giving up on me for good.

  Ten

  All morning I had the feeling people were looking at me weird.

  By mid-afternoon, I knew for sure I wasn’t paranoid, because everyone was looking at me weird. I sat in English Lit scratching the back of my neck, feeling like bugs were crawling up my spine.

  What the hell was everyone’s issue?

  In second period, I’d told Liv about my heebies and she checked me from head to toe. No embarrassing bleeding, toilet paper, or wardrobe malfunctions. And my hair…well, I had a blue streak in my hair, but that wasn’t exactly a new development.

  “I don’t know, Ellie,” Liv had said. “There isn’t anything different about you for them to stare at. Want me to start eye-gouging?”

  Even now in English Lit I grinned remembering the conversation. Liv’s violent solutions to every problem rivaled my brother’s, and if the two of them could be in the same room with each other without bickering, they might make a good couple. Of course, I’d bite my tongue out before saying such to Liv.

  Bonnie cleared her throat, practically hanging off her chair as the last minute of class ticked by.

  I thought about ignoring her but rudeness isn’t my thing. Even though she probably had more fun news about Wenda’s newest hate campaign, I broke down and glanced her way. She pointed at the clock and held up her index finger, wanting me to wait. Apparently, Mrs. Rosnek had spoken to her about her constant note-passing and jawing during class so she was counting the seconds.

  Once the bell chimed, she was on me.

  “Oh my God! The pic is making the cell rounds. It’s really cool! Who did it?”

  Okay, I was officially lost in Bonnie’s babble.

  “Huh?”

  “Looks like a cool anime cartoon of you painted on the side of the pizza shop on Evans Street.”

  Come again? “What…pic?” My mind raced, wondering if I’d taken any cell phone pics of my ass or something. Considering I barely used my phone, because everyone I knew, except Ander, was usually within shouting distance, my logic won out over instinctual panic.

  “You mean you don’t know?” Bonnie bit her lip and squee-d. “I’m totally going to the bathroom to send it to you. Put your cell on vibe! Oh, and text me back!”

  And then Bonnie ran down the hall, eager to be the first to show me this pic. My mind ran up and down the humiliation checklist, wondering which one of many pranks was pulled on me. Perhaps someone doctored a pic of me. Probably photoshopped my head on some animal body and sent it around as a cruel joke. It’d have to be someone from the gymnastics team. No one else hated me that much.

  Decay.

  Crap. I’d forgotten about that jerk.

  My phone vibrated in triplicate, letting me know I had a message. I berated myself for shaking as I p
ulled my cell out of my pocket. Taking a deep breath, I clicked to accept the image and blinked.

  The side of a pizzeria came into view with a graffiti piece of me painted on it. Beneath rays of the sun peeking between unfinished clouds, my large-as-life face grew out of a swirling background on the side of the building. All of my features were slightly exaggerated, and the blue streak in my hair cascaded from the center of my forehead, down my nose before dramatically sweeping to the side near my ear. Bonnie was right, I looked really cool and—beautiful.

  But it also looked like Haze couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. OMG, dumbass much?

  If my brother saw this…

  Oh, hell.

  At least I knew why everyone took turns staring at me all day. They wanted to know who the artist was, and they figured I knew, but no one braved coming right out with it.

  I hurried to my locker in hopes of getting in and out before true trouble could descend, but I’d barely opened the gilled door when it was slammed shut by my brother’s shoulder. Standing behind him was Liv, her brow creased in worry, and I figured she’d found out about the graffiti this past hour too, and, like my brother, raced to my locker to see what was up. I wanted to tell her everything right then, but she was with my brother. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was with my brother. On his side.

  “What the hell was that for?” I hoped I sounded befuddled. That was a good word…befuddled.

  “Care to tell me why that Haze guy is creating a replica of your face on the wall of a pizza delivery place?”

  “Whoa, what?”

  Liv gripped Warp’s shoulder and guided him back long enough to slip in. “There’s a picture floating around of your face up on the wall.”

  “I just saw it myself and I have no idea who would throw me up on any wall.”

  “It’s that asshole, Haze, challenging me. I know it.” Warp’s face twitched with every angry word, but there was something else. Something in his eyes made him look almost excited. I was right to be worried. Warp was going to use this graffiti to start a war between crews. Shit! I needed to call Surge and tell him it was time to duck.