by Callie James
“Will you shut your pie hole for once!” Ryan snapped.
I looked up, shocked by Ryan’s outburst. Cindy appeared unfazed as she glanced from Ryan, to me, and back. “Ohmygod. She doesn’t know, does she? How is it even possible that Miss Celebrity doesn’t know about the video with all of those gossip whores at school?”
My stomach knotted, recalling only one time when I’d seen Cindy look so eager. She’d worn the same expression three years ago when she’d told me about the slut rumor. The one Jason Thompson had created about me the day after the attack. I pointed to myself. “You don’t mean me, do you?”
“Of course I mean you.” She let out a squeal and leapt onto my bed, grabbing my laptop. “This is hysteeerical. You’ve got to watch it while I’m here,” she said, typing Student’s Body for Hire in the search field.
Wait. What?
She clicked the top link and pulled up a video. Five hundred thirty-eight hits. Couldn’t be too great. Except the person who held the account, Mondeek, had only uploaded it this morning. “This is mega hot, by the way,” she said, glancing at me. “Even by my standards.”
I glanced at Ryan, wishing someone other than Cindy would clue me in on what was happening. My brother shook his head, disgusted, and my gaze flew to Jon, who blushed deep red. Not a good sign. He and Cindy had dated for three years, seriously for two of those years, and Cindy had told me more details about their sex life than I’d ever wanted to know. The kinky, experimental stuff no one should ever share. If Cindy said this video was hot, then I was in serious trouble.
I turned back to the laptop and swallowed.
“Cindy,” Ryan said, voice shaking, “I totally mean it. I will kill you.”
She kicked Ryan’s leg to shush him. When he grunted, she shushed him again with another kick and hit play.
The video was grainy and jerky at first. I braced for a flash of skin and the inevitable blue screen of death when this nefarious website infected my laptop with the mother of all viruses. But once the camera did a quick zoom and visually sharpened, I recognized the school parking lot. Another zoom and I recognized Sam. More sharpening and I recognized me talking to Sam.
I froze, waiting to hear my voice and our conversation. Instead, another girl’s voice jolted me into sitting straighter. The video culprit hadn’t been close enough to record our conversation, thank goodness. Instead, he or she had added audio, a girl’s voice that sounded pitchy and giggly, like anime. Rather, anime porn because she talked specifically about sex. Okay, the video culprit definitely had to be a guy. They had me propositioning Sam, saying things I would never repeat because I honestly didn’t know what most of it meant.
What exactly was a face plant?
What shocked me the most was how perky and wide-eyed I appeared, all while saying the most lewd things I’d ever heard.
“You okay, Peyton?” Jon asked.
I looked at his twitching mouth and bit my upper lip, trying to hold back a smile. When my video counterpart squealed with anime laughter, I contorted my mouth, but video me cooed and I caved in to a fit of giggles.
Jon reluctantly smiled.
“Watch this,” Cindy said, grabbing my arm.
I looked to the video to see Sam shift uncomfortably at what my character proposed before he said, “¿Qué?”
Cindy and I roared with giggles at the sound of Sam’s voice, or rather, the voice Mondeek dubbed over Sam’s voice. The man sounded old, had a thick Spanish accent and obviously smoked because every time he laughed, he made a hissing, wheezing sound under his breath. The fact that Sam never laughed or even smiled made the scene hysterically funny. The laughter came across as a creepy, pervy laugh in his head. The old man spoke quickly, swapping between English and Spanish. Mondeek had set up the dialogue in such a way that throwing Spanish periodically into his responses made it funnier. Some common Spanish I understood. Others, I didn’t, thankfully so, especially when every statement ended with a pervy wheeze laugh.
My character, looking all innocent and bouncy, responded in that ditzy voice while Cindy and I grabbed each other’s arms and squealed with laughter.
Sam’s script had him asking for weird scenarios and unique positions. I only knew this because Cindy had been exploring Kama Sutra stuff recently and kept translating in whispers. Our characters spoke back and forth quickly, our mouth movements not meshing at all, and our awkward expressions didn’t help.
“Do I always look that …perky? It’s as though I’m on springs.”
“You are pretty chipper,” she said. “Well … not usually like that. It doesn’t matter. You look great. And eager! Girl, check you out. You are into him. What did he say to you that made you look at him like that?”
No. He’d said no. A lot.
Ryan let out a moan so I purposely changed the subject. “I can see my bra through my shirt.”
“Maybe in the sunlight,” Cindy said. “Only a little. No biggie though because you look great.”
Ryan stepped into the video, a young, grumpy voice used instead of his. His slumped shoulders and perpetual disapproving expression reminded me of the depressed cartoon character, Charlie Brown. Apparently, Mondeek had cast him my pimp.
“This. Is. Disgusting,” Ryan said.
Cindy gave another kick to his shoe.
When my character’s dialogue started sounding like Dr. Seuss meets Asian porn, I thought Cindy and I would laugh ourselves into tears.
“I can’t believe you two think this is funny,” Jon said, grinning then at Sam’s old-man pervy laugh.
Savanna showed up in the video and grabbed the money, giving a room number and one-hour time limit.
Cindy wiped her eyes. “That girl will kill somebody for this.”
Savanna. Oh, no. Sam. I lost my smile, realizing Sam and Savanna would watch this someday, too. That brotherly protectiveness of his would send him into orbit over this.
“Okay,” Cindy said, adjusting the laptop. “Here it is. Don’t pay attention to the dialogue when you start writing on his hand. Watch Sam’s expression.”
“Mother of God,” Ryan mumbled, hands scrubbing his face.
Video-version me walked to Sam, stood close, and pulled his hand from his side. I watched my fingers slide along his wrist to curl around his palm. I remembered vividly the experience of his rough skin and the thick web of muscle between his thumb and forefinger.
“Are you watching?” she said.
Realizing I’d spaced off into the memory, I quickly squinted my eyes to show her I had my attention on Sam’s face, something I hadn’t been able to do while writing on his hand. He’d studied my face and his gaze had lowered.
My heart did a weird thwump-thump in my chest to see the desire in his eyes before his demeanor shifted. Like his expression in the foyer when he’d turned to me, that guarded expression back in place.
But why?
Cindy grabbed my forearm. “I know. It gets better.”
She couldn’t see it. At the time, neither had I. Probably because I hadn’t really known him. After spending time with him, I recognized the subtleties. It was plain on his face. He’d never planned to come over Tuesday night.
“You watching?” she asked, squeezing my arm.
I narrowed my eyes again. Sam stared at me walking away, his expression intense, exactly as Ryan had described it. My cheeks burned hot that everyone at school had seen it now, too. By the time the video stopped, my already stuffy bedroom felt as though the temperature had ratcheted up twenty degrees.
“I’d noticed him before,” Cindy said. “Obviously. He has that tall, dark, and brooding thing going, but when I watched this today…damn. Is he hot or is it just me?” She had a gleam in her eye that made me want to shove her off the bed. “Okay, well, you’re right. I take it back. He would be hot if he didn’t act so antisocial you don’t dare look him in the eyes. But you.” She pushed my shoulder hard. “Can I tell you several people, including me, would love to know what he said to you. You both w
ere so into each other.” She pulled back. “Wait, you’re not seriously into him, are you?”
I looked to Jon, who had passed out on the floor, too wiped out from an all-night study session. Her pointed comments about Sam had been for Jon’s benefit. She often noticed other guys aloud to make him jealous. One day her fooling around would cost her the relationship.
Ryan remained unmoving, his forearm thrown over his eyes. “Come on, Ryan,” I said. “Don’t be mad. It’s funny.”
“You’re avoiding the question,” Cindy said, pushing my shoulder.
“What question?” I pulled my laptop from her claw-like grip.
“Oh, hon, you’re into him.” She grinned. “It’s almost painful to watch. And that’s okay, you know. Hooking up, I mean. You’ll want to lose your virginity before college anyway. But you do know you can’t seriously date him, right? Your social circle would become non-existent within forty-eight hours.”
“Sometimes you make me sick, Cindy,” Ryan said, pulling his forearm from his face to glare at her. “Please stop hanging out with my sister. I don’t want your warped thinking rubbing off on her.”
“Not confirming or denying here,” I said, “but how could dating Sam affect my social circle? A, I don’t have a social circle. B, why would any of my friends care who I date? I don’t like everyone my friends date, and I don’t say a word.” I shot her a pointed look.
“Because Sam Guerra is a freak,” she said. “The guy doesn’t have any friends. I mean, he’s not even low status. He’s no status. That’s bad. You can’t date a no-status guy.” She fluffed her blonde hair back, smiled, and sighed dreamily. “I’ll admit I get the attraction. He’s a dangerous bad boy. Although, I can’t imagine losing it to someone like that. He’s probably…well, how can I say it?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” I said.
“He’s probably aggressive and rough. Definitely not for you.” She smiled in that all-knowing fashion before giving me a frown of sympathy. “Might turn you off to men forever. Especially after that thing with Jason—”
“Shut the hell up, Cindy!” Ryan snapped, startling Jon awake.
“You can go for it if you want to,” she continued, ignoring Ryan’s icy stare, “but don’t think I won’t give you a big fat I-told-you-so when he puts the moves on you right out of the gate. I used to date guys like him when I was a freshman. They have certain … expectations. And once they get that, they expect it all the time. Pretty soon that’s all you’re doing is meeting up to have sex.”
I looked down at Jon, never surprised by Cindy’s oversharing but always shocked when Jon never reacted to it. Luckily, he was out like a light again.
“But if you know that going in and that’s all you’re after,” she said, elbowing me with a wink, “definitely go for it.”
“Go for what?”
Adam’s voice startled us, and we glanced over to see him standing in my bedroom doorway. I reached over and slammed my laptop closed on her hand.
“Ouch!” Cindy pulled her hand away and flexed her fingers.
“No one,” I said. “Nothing. I meant to say nothing.”
“Don’t you knock or ring a doorbell anymore?” Cindy asked.
He shrugged, immune to her abrasiveness. “Peyton’s mom saw me pull into the driveway and opened the door.” His eyes shifted to me. “You should go for what?”
“Nothing.”
“Sam Guerra,” Cindy said.
Adam’s mouth flattened into a line and I elbowed Cindy hard. “You must have seen the video,” he said.
I put my hands to my hot cheeks. “Did everyone know about this but me?”
“I was going to break the news to you later,” Adam said.
“Well I beat you to it. I just showed it to her,” Cindy announced, sounding bitchy as only she could. She had a self-imposed rivalry with Adam for my affection. Why was a complete mystery because she said as many thoughtless things to me as she did to anyone else. Adam and I only tolerated her because Jon dated her, and we loved him to death. But beyond meeting at a party or laughing over a stupid video, Cindy and I had no chance at a future friendship. We couldn’t be more different.
I heard Jon’s snore and turned to Cindy. “Adam and I have tons to do if we want to get this online by next week. I’d hate to keep waking Jon up. He’s beat, the poor thing. Maybe you should take him home.”
She looked at Jon. “He’s cute when he sleeps, isn’t he?” she said.
Watching her slide off the bed, I turned to Adam, perplexed whenever Cindy said something sweet like that. It was those rare occurrences when I doubted my opinion of her.
Jon and Cindy left and Ryan followed, going to his room and slamming the door. Once alone, Adam turned to me. “Come on, Peyton. You know you can tell me. What’s really going on?”
The day I talked seriously to Adam about me and a boy would be the day I’d be so in love I could no longer hide it. I wouldn’t hurt Adam for anything less.
I smiled. “You won’t believe this, but Cindy just had a good idea.”
CHAPTER NINE
Peyton
I pulled on my second heel and positioned the strap, just as I noticed Ryan appear in my bedroom doorway. I straightened, pressing my hand to my stomach and turning away to examine myself in the dresser mirror.
“How do I look?” I asked, glancing at his reflection.
He leaned his shoulder to the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. “Taller.”
“I’m serious, Ryan.” I dropped my hands to my sides. “Help.”
His frown deepened and he sighed. “You look like you give a damn what Sam Guerra thinks about you.”
“I do.” I smoothed my skirt again. Licked my cinnamon-shimmer lipstick to make sure it wouldn’t rub off my lips. “Ryan, please. How do I look? Really.”
His smile was brief. “I think you wear giddy well. I swear, Peyton, I never thought I’d see the day when you’d let a guy pick you up at the house again. I may not want you seeing Guerra, but it’s nice to see you’re getting past that thing Thompson did to you. What I don’t get is why him of all people?”
“Sam?” I shrugged. “He’s wary. It makes me feel safe.”
“Wary makes you feel safe?”
“I don’t think Sam trusts anyone, including me. It wasn’t long ago I lived in a similar world.” He looked down. “I can’t explain why I trust Sam when no one else does, any more than I can explain why I was leery of Jason when everyone else trusted him. And maybe trust isn’t the right word. It just doesn’t seem to me that someone who’s worried he could get hurt or used would be actively planning to hurt or use someone else.”
His gaze met mine. “Wariness might be part of his act.”
“Not everyone has an act.”
“Yes they do.”
“Really?” I looked at him. “Then what’s yours?”
“Pretending to trust.”
“Codswallow. I know you too well.” I put a hand on my hip at his eye roll. “Ryan, stop. I find him …interesting. That’s all. I want to get to know him better.” Staring at my reflection, I pulled in a shaky breath.
“Calm down, sis,” he said. “Jeez. You’re losing it for this guy.”
Lost it, actually. I shifted and turned to him. “Is giddy attractive? Or am I going to come off childish?”
He straightened and walked toward me. “It’s good. I hope he’s worth it.”
Sam’s Impala rumbled to a stop outside and I rounded my eyes at Ryan. “Oh God, that’s him. Quick, go get him before he knocks. And keep him out there. Otherwise, Daddy will get to him first and all hell will break loose. I’ll meet you outside.”
“You know Dad is going to want to meet him.”
“And you know why he can’t. If all goes well tonight, I’ll introduce him to Daddy another day when Sam doesn’t have bruises on his face.”
“Repeat that sentence and tell me again why this date is a good idea.”
I gave him my pleading look. “Ple
ase?”
“The things I do for you,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “All right.” My brother was nearly out of the room when he twisted around and pointed a finger at me. “But stop being nervous. I’m about to go intercept a two-time senior for you, and he’s probably wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, for God’s sake. He’s the lucky one here. Don’t forget that.”
I waved a hand, shooing him out. “Go. Quick. I’ll be right down.”
I fanned my face after he left. What would I do if Sam kissed me tonight? Keep it together, I hoped. I couldn’t imagine. I didn’t want to imagine. I just wanted it to happen and I didn’t want to be all red and blotchy when it did.
Sam’s voice, distant and inaudible in the foyer, made me halt all movement.
“Jeez, Dad,” Ryan said loudly, giving me a heads-up.
Oh, damn it to hell. Ryan hadn’t made it in time. I prayed Sam wasn’t standing in the full glare of the porch light. That the bruises weren’t visible. Grabbing my small purse, I pushed the thin strap over my shoulder, looked at my reflection and smoothed the olive top and the black and olive floral print skirt that stopped two inches above my knees. No pressure. I’d only been waiting my whole life to feel this excited about someone.
When I reached the top of the stairs, I saw both my parents already standing in the foyer with Ryan, who looked embarrassed by our dad’s questioning. I could only imagine. Sam stood on the porch, gorgeous in black pants and a crisp, white shirt rolled up at the elbows. I pressed my fingertips to my chest, unable to stay in denial a second longer. Whether he dressed casual for school or nice to take me out, I was completely attracted. Mom’s ardent gaze and unwavering smile told me she agreed.
“Guerra,” my dad said. “I admit your last name sounds familiar, although I don’t recall meeting your father. What does he do?”
Sam’s neutral expression never changed. “He was a police officer.”
“Was?” Daddy asked. “He retired?”
“He passed.”
“Oh, dear,” Mom said, shaking her head and smacking Daddy’s arm. “We’re sorry to hear that.”
