Bully: A High School Bully Romance (The King of Castleton High Book 1)
Page 9
I ignored her and stood, buttoning my shirt. And then I left her there, half-naked on the blanket. Wet and used.
I needed a drink.
Scratch that.
I needed many drinks.
10.
T A R R Y N
I’d never talked to a guy so much in my life. And it wasn’t all small talk. Some of it was poignant and meaningful and worldly. He’d told me why he wanted to be a lawyer, why he was so motivated to change the legal system and make it colorblind. He’d gone on for a long time about recent cases and their disturbing contrast to cases from only a few years ago. How crimes were weighted in favor of color and cash. I guess I didn’t talk all that much. But I loved listening.
Also, he’d let me have all the best food from the stash me and Sasha had bought before coming. That was major brownie points in my book. Though…if I’d been smart, I might have cooled it with the garlic hummus. I couldn’t imagine my breath was super kissable right now.
“You want another one?” Aiden pointed at my cup. We were sitting on a blanket next to the lake. I’d no idea where Sasha had gone off to, only that she’d been chatting with two guys before coming over to me and Aiden and letting us know she’d be back to drive me home in an hour or so.
“No, one’s enough. I’m not much of a drinker,” I admitted. Though, if I was being totally honest, I would have said ‘this is my first drink ever. I’m already buzzed’ and I really shouldn’t drink too much because I’m hypoglycemic.
“Me neither. I’m not big on any of this.” Aiden indicated, well, everything around us. “But I’m glad I came.” He moved his hand a little closer to mine, our fingers barely brushed one another. I looked down at them, the many lights in the trees showing off the deeply-brown glow of his skin and the peachy-pale of mine.
“I’m glad you came too,” I said quietly, looking up at him. “It’s been… a strange week. I thought for sure Drake Castleton wasn’t going to give up on his pathetic need to screw the new girl first. But then he did, and you came along.” I was the one that moved a hand this time, bringing mine to rest against the top of his.
In that moment, I knew we were going to kiss. I felt it, the future-about-to-become-present-about-to-become-past thrill in my stomach. Why did I eat so much garlic hummus? I mentally railed against myself, biting my lower lip.
Aiden lifted his other hand and traced a finger down my cheek. “I really didn’t expect you to be so interesting, Tarryn.”
“I’m interesting?” I chuckled softly. “I barely talked about myself. But you… you’re so amazing, Aiden. I mean, I feel like you’re going to just change the world.”
We leaned forward at the same time, perfectly in sync.
“Fuck you doing,” a loud voice slurred near us.
I wanted to ignore it; it had to be someone else’s issue. This moment was too perfect. Nothing was going to spoil it. Yet, like I’d known Aiden wanted to kiss me, I also knew that the voice I’d heard was familiar. Aiden pulled his hands away from me quickly, putting more distance between us. My gaze flashed to his face, hurt burgeoning in my chest. Aiden looked embarrassed and confused as he glanced away from me at something nearby. I turned to find what he was looking at, to find what had broken into the sheer excitement and anticipation of an impending kiss.
“I said,” the voice came again, closer and louder this time, “what the fuck you doing?”
And I saw him, a sloppy disheveled mess of a person.
Drake was stumbling towards us, red cup in hand, shirt wrinkled and unkempt. He pointed a finger at Aiden, slurring more expletives. “You’re a bastard, Aiden fucking Quinn. Give me back my money.”
“Whoa, Drake. You need to calm down, man.” Aiden held up his hands placating. “Let’s get someone to drive you home.”
“I don’t need anyone to drive me the fuck home, man. I want to know what the fuck you doing? This isn’t,” Drake tripped over someone’s shoes on the sand. “Shit,” he blurted out, trying to regain his footing. He failed, falling face first onto the beach. “This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be,” he was mumbling now, rolling over against the ground and laughing up at the stars. “Everything’s fucking wrong, man.”
Aiden stood and walked the short distance over to Drake, helping him stand. Drake looked around in a daze, his gaze settling on the guy who was supporting him. “Everything’s wrong. You’re fucking wrong.”
“Let’s get you home,” Aiden looked at me, shrugging apologetically. “I’m sorry, Tarryn. I really had a great time.”
I felt like there was more in that ‘sorry’ than just what was happening right now, but I didn’t know what. Or maybe I was totally off base. My ability to read boys was second only to my complete lack of gracefulness—which was why I’m a runner and not a ballerina. One year of mortification trying to dance next to undeniably-talented kids had been enough to kill my ‘she’s got rhythm’ aspirations. Hundred percent two left feet.
I watched Aiden walk away, being so kind with Drake even though the guy was acting like an inebriated douche bag, and I felt happy. Even though we didn’t get to kiss, it was still the best… quasi-date of my life. And we would kiss; I was sure we would.
And it would be wonderful.
I tuned into the world around me when I was alone, now that there was no Aiden consuming all of my attention.
A skunky-strong odor that hinted at citrus, black pepper, and grass clippings after rain was carried to me on the wind. I hadn’t noticed it before. My eyes looked for the smell and I saw a group of kids in a circle, passing a lit joint. The lights were twinkling and beautiful all around us; it made the drug use seem like part of the cosmic euphoria. Not illegal or contradictory.
People were shouting and chanting next to one of the kegs—a girl was doing a handstand whilst drinking from the dispensing tube. I’d choke and die if I tried that. The girl was like an Olympic gymnast, her arms didn’t even shake and her legs barely moved in the air.
More kids were in the lake, clothes abandoned on the beach. They bobbed up and down in the water, some in swimwear, some not.
It was the sound of childhood fading into grownup things. I laid back and listened to all the chaos. I debated fishing out my book and doing a little reading—it would grate Sasha’s nerves something awful—but instead I just kept reveling in the cool night, the noise, and the possibilities of tomorrow.
Sasha drove me home shortly after midnight. Her dark hair was tousled, bits of grass stuck in the strands.
“So, did you have fun?” I asked teasingly.
“Double the fun,” she hinted, laughing. “You?”
“I didn’t need my book after all.”
“Told you.”
***
The next morning I woke up to twelve messages from Aiden. And they were a little strange. The first ones were slightly incoherent. The most recent ones seemed like he was… I don’t know. Back to normal?
1:30 am Aiden: i sorry shit
1:37 am Aiden: wish i knew y i am like this
1:42 am Aiden: i h8 th way i feel i cant explain
He waited a while after the third text. But his next messages didn’t make the situation any clearer.
2:53 am Aiden: you must think i’m…
2:54 am Aiden: god, i am i am what u think
3:02 am Aiden: its shit, u know? shit what you did
3:05 am Aiden: coming here knotting me all to fuck
3:11 am Aiden: i don’t dserve to like u
3:38 am Aiden: but he fucking don’t either
A larger gap followed the text at three-thirty.
6:45 am Aiden: Wow, Tarryn. I’m really sorry. I took Drake home and then went back to the party hoping you were still there. I had a few more drinks and I really can’t handle alcohol apparently.
6:46 am Aiden: I promise that isn’t me. I’m not an idiot who gets drunk and texts people. This is why I stay away from parties like that.
6:47 am Aiden: Please forgive me.
&nb
sp; I sat for a minute, reading the messages three times, trying to figure out how to respond. I thought he liked me, but the earlier messages sound like I’d done something wrong. And who else liked me? Why didn’t they deserve to like me?
Tossing myself back onto my pile of pillows with a groan, I gripped the phone against my chest and closed my eyes. Last night had been so great. It had been the best time I’d ever had with a guy; it had felt fun and natural. But now? I was questioning everything. Almost, almost, I might trade this morning with the morning after my date with Mitch Henderson—aka perfect guy with a secret Canadian girlfriend. I remembered feeling let-down and disappointed, but that would be preferable over this bipolar Aiden. I just didn’t know which was the authentic person—the insanely smart guy, college-bound and wanting to better the world or the drunk jerk on the other end of the phone?
Sitting up, I read over the messages one more time.
8:16 am. My phone pinged again. Aiden: Let me make it up to you. Let’s go out tonight, just you and me.
Biting my lip, I struggled. As much as I wanted an actual date—a good one with no obsession over binary code or steroids or photos of the guy’s ‘real girlfriend’—I didn’t want to jump into something I was no longer sure about. I’d only known Aiden a week, less really. I’d only started at the new school Monday. Taking a step back wasn’t a terrible idea.
Hey, Aiden. I think one drink’s enough for you! **laugh face** Too casual? Should I brush it off that much, like it didn’t matter at all? I erased all but the greeting and started over. Listen, last night was really great. Honestly, but I think I need to focus on getting settled at school before I date anyone. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t apologize. I’d done nothing wrong. I erased the last two words. Ugh. I’d just wanted to date and kiss a normal guy.
It felt like freaking forever before the little dots appeared indicating Aiden was writing me back. The way he took my response would inform, deeply, how I approached him in the future.
A lot of pauses.
The dots disappeared.
Then reappeared.
Aiden: I understand. I feel like I blew this, whatever it was we had going. I am sorry for that. Last night just turned weird.
It was the right thing to say, that calm acceptance. It gave me pause. But in the end, I stood by needing a little more time to adjust before jumping into dating at a new school, in a fairly new town.
Thank you for understanding. Just give me a little time.
Aiden: Okay.
***
The rest of Saturday I studied. Sunday, Sasha called to see how I’d enjoyed the party. I told her a little bit about my time with Aiden… and about the texts the next morning. Before I knew what was happening, she’d invited herself over.
When the doorbell rang, I sprinted downstairs.
“I’ll get it!” I yelled to my parents in the kitchen. “It’s a friend from school.”
“Okay, honey. Dad and I have to run into the office in a few. You two have fun. I’ll leave some pizza money on the counter if you want?” Her voice traveled to me down the hall. I half-turned as I grabbed the door knob, seeing Mom waving cash in the air.
“Thanks, that’d be great,” I called down to her as I opened the way for Sasha to enter. My jaw dropped when she came into view though. She looked… totally different. Gone was the goth makeup and funky clothes. Her makeup was princess-light and her hair was held back with a dainty red headband. “Um…”
Sasha looked down at herself, chuckling. “Yeah, well. My family is strictly, strictly Protestant. Hands to the Bible, bless your momma, angels guard us types. I’m apparently not getting into heaven if I attend church in funky clothes and black lipstick.”
“You look nice.”
She punched me softly. “Watch your dirty mouth.” But she smiled and laughed again. “Admittedly, I’m sexy enough to pull off any look.”
“Hi, girls.” Mom walked from the kitchen; Dad followed close behind her, carrying a stack of files and a briefcase.
“Hi, Mrs. Monroe,” Sasha spoke with polite determination, trying to make a good impression.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you’re Sasha. I realized I probably should have come down Friday night and met you, but—”
“She was too busy stealing my clothes and doing hot yoga,” I interrupted, finishing the sentence for her and winking.
Mom shrugged, eyes smiling. “Yeah, pretty much.” She held out her hand to Sasha. “So, anyway, nice to meet you. Thanks for taking our daughter to her first real-life boozy high school party.”
Dad who’d been standing quietly, his eyes going over the items he carried and comparing them to a mental checklist most likely, blustered to life. “Wait, Tarryn went where? Did you say—”
“I’ll tell you in the car, honey.” Mom reached back and took Dad’s wrist, pulling him gently towards the door. “And you won’t overreact, because we love and trust Tarryn. I mean, it’s not like she went out and dyed her hair,” Mom’s voice changed to include a hint of sarcasm. “I mean, that would be a real tragedy.”
“Tish, I want to know what’s going on. Right now.” My flustered dad allowed himself to be pulled out the door and towards the car. Eventually, we’d be able to park in the actual garage—if we ever got around to unpacking the massive amount of junk still stored there.
When my parents were gone, Sasha quirked an eyebrow. “I’m guessing your mom is one of those ‘do first, tell later’ spouses.”
“Only because if she talks to Dad first, he’ll logic the crap out of her. Come on.” I walked towards the kitchen and Sasha followed. “Mom left cash for pizza. You hungry?”
“I’m always hungry, especially on Sunday.” Sasha bounced towards one of the two barstools tucked under the counter and sat down. “Did I mention my mom also believes in fasting on Sunday? To cleanse the spirit for the coming week? It’s one of the only religion-y things my parents don’t agree on. My dad’s a giant. He eats constantly. And the only thing he loves more than God and my mom is bacon.”
I rummaged through the drawers and found the delivery menus. “You know, I’m not actually in the mood for pizza. What about Chinese?”
“Yuck. No way. Lu Fong’s got a terrible rating last year. Cockroaches in the food storage or something. Thai?” Sasha took the dainty headband off and tossed it onto the granite.
“No, we just had that the other day. I’m full-up on spring rolls and ginger.” I looked at the menus, one after another, until one piqued my interest. “Hey, how about Mexican? Enchiladas, tostadas, nachos.”
“Sounds like heaven to me.” Sasha grabbed a napkin from my mom’s fancy holder and wiped her mouth, erasing the doll pink. Seconds later, she’d fished out a tube of lipstick and used the reflection in the window beside her to layer on a deep crimson hue. “That’s better.”
“You still look model perfect,” I teased. “Only, like… a model who’s really used to sofa auditions.” I waggled my eyebrows and gyrated my pelvis a little.
“I’m really glad you sat at my table, bae. I’ve not liked someone this much since my best guy friend Andy transferred. Freaking boarding school boy now.” Sasha tossed the crumpled up lipstick-stained napkin at me. I caught it and stuffed it in the trash under the sink.
“I know what you mean. Leaving my best friend behind sucked. I didn’t think I’d find anyone like her here.”
“Am I a lot like her?” Sasha lifted an eyebrow and squinted her eyes a little.
I laughed, tossing my head back a little. “No. Seriously. Not even a little bit. I mean, other than you two being really confident in yourselves.”
We called in the food and then moved to the living room to wait, flipping on the TV and settling on a corny B-rated horror flick. We kept the volume low so we could talk. Sasha’s time at the lake party had been… way wilder than my own.
“So… both of them. Together.” My mouth was hanging open slightly. I knew threesomes and orgies and all of that existe
d. Hell, I even knew that kids my age were getting their trio on, but Sasha was the first person I actually knew to tell me of her exploits.
“Yep. I mean, Carson is great with his tongue,” she pointed down with her finger towards her crotch, “if you get my drift. But Steve—even though he’s the walking, talking embodiment of a macho pig who just thinks women are objects—is hung.” She held her hands up, palms facing each other, and measured in the air, settling on about ten inches or so apart. “And he’s not, like, long and thin like some guys. He’s got some freaking girth on him. I wouldn’t touch him with medical gloves any other day, but the lake party is all-bets-off.”
“I wouldn’t know about some guys, but a threesome is so far out of my field of vision. I mean, I should probably like… kiss a guy more than once before I think about that.” I moved to face her on the couch, back against the armrest. “How are you so…” I let my voice trail off, trying to form the words in a non-offensive way. “How are you so casual and comfortable with sex when you live in such a regulated home?”
“Girl, sex is a liberation. It’s a physical freaking need.” Sasha pulled the blanket from underneath her and unfolded it to cover herself.
“Want me to turn the fan off?” I reached over to get the remote from the side table, but Sasha stopped me.
“No, I’d rather be cold and cuddle. But don’t change the subject,” she said quickly. “I think you need to hear this. I needed to hear it when my grandmother told me.”
“Your grandmother?” I asked, disbelief assaulting my brain. “Your grandmother taught you about sex?”
“No, my mom did the whole birds and bees, wait for true love, your virginity is a gift dance first. But it was my grandmother who told me, and I quote, ‘you are not the value of your vagina’. ‘God did not put you on this earth with your legs crossed. You came out kicking your momma and ready to run’.”
“Christ. I can’t believe your grandmother said that. My grandmothers only ever talk about rising food prices and inexplicable body rashes.”