Lines (Greyford High Book 1)

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Lines (Greyford High Book 1) Page 15

by Anna B. Doe


  “It’s not,” I insist, turning around so that I don’t have to look at him. But I’m not that lucky to be left alone, because a few seconds later he’s leaning against the edge of my desk, his foot nudging mine under the table.

  “Come on, Lia.” He smiles sweetly at me. “Pretty please.”

  “I don’t know a thing about hockey,” I object lamely. He is getting to me, and I can feel it’s a matter of seconds before I’ll give in to his request.

  Just as if she could feel it, Brook comes and stumbles into her seat. With narrowed eyes, she takes in the scene in front of her. For a second, I even think she caught glimpse of what’s been going behind me, but her full attention is quickly transferred to Max and me.

  “Whatever he wants, Lia,” she looks at me seriously, “the answer is no.”

  “What?” Max growls loudly. “This is so not fair.”

  “Well, life’s not fair, honey,” Brook adds over her shoulder, already back in her Brook’s only universe.

  “Lia?”

  “Ohh god, okay!” I shout loud enough for people in the next classroom to hear me. “I’ll go, just stop looking at me like that.”

  Puppy dog eyes are soon replaced by a Cheshire cat smile. “It’ll be fun, promise.”

  “How can it be fun when I don’t even know what’s happening out there?” I ask him skeptically.

  “You just look for a guy wearing a jersey with number 88.” He points his finger at his chest. “And cheer when he’s going towards the goal of the opposing team. That would be the ones not wearing white, blue, and grey with a wolf on it.”

  “Easy-peasy.”

  “It sure is,” he grins just as our teacher enters the classroom. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

  “Yeah, I bet it’ll,” I whisper to myself.

  I don’t even want to think what I got myself into. If the looming presence behind me, and Brook’s stiff stance in front of me are any indication, it’s going to be anything but fun.

  Amelia

  “Lia!” The low hiss behind me makes the hair at the back of my head stand up. “Amelia, wait!”

  I ignore him and keep on walking, but he doesn’t get that I don’t want to talk to him. His fingers curl around my wrist and in one swift move, he has me turned around and crashing into his stiff, rock hard chest.

  “I told you to wait,” he looks down at me.

  “I didn’t hear you,” I talk back. I never talk back to anyone. Especially not him, almost as much as I never lie, but this is a flat out lie, and the look he gives me says he’s very aware of it.

  Derek looks around us; a few people still linger around the hallways before leaving for their after-school activities.

  “Come here,” he pulls me behind him.

  Opening the first door, he looks inside, probably to confirm there is nobody inside, before going in and closing the door behind us.

  “Why couldn’t we talk in the hall?” I jerk my hand out of his grasp and rub against sensitive flesh.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” he starts, but I don’t let him finish.

  “It’s okay.”

  His grip is firm, but not too strong to leave the bruise.

  What makes me uneasy and itchy is the feeling his hand left behind. Light burning of my skin, tingles, and electricity rush through my fingers. Every time he touches me, it’s like sensory overload for my body.

  Derek still looks worriedly at my hand so I urge myself to stop. “It’s fine, really,” I cross my hands nervously over my chest. “What do you need, Derek?”

  “So you are going to the game tomorrow?”

  “I guess I am. It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice.”

  His eyes lift to meet mine. For a few seconds, he only stares at me. “You’ve never been to a game.”

  “That’s what I said earlier.” I roll my eyes at him. “Hockey isn’t really my thing.”

  I don’t know where he’s going with this conversation, but I’m not really in the mood to find out. Maybe Brook is right after all. Maybe Derek is jealous of Max. Derek doesn’t seem like a guy who likes to share his favorite toys with anybody. And I guess, right now, I’m his favorite toy.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “What I meant is I’ve never seen you at a game.”

  “Why would you see me at the game?” I chuckle uncomfortably. “Apart from the fact I’ve never been to one, it’s not like you were looking around for me.”

  “I would have seen you if you came.” He crosses those few steps that are keeping us at a distance and stands right in front of me, pressing me against the desk I’m standing next to. His hands reach forward, fingers touching a strand of my hair. “There is no way somebody could miss this hair, even in the crowd.”

  Disengaging it from his fingers I scowl at him. “I’m not in the mood for your teasing.”

  “I’m not teasing, little one.” His voice is filled with amusement. “You hair has a life of its own. It’s always shining brightly. Kind of reminds me of fire.”

  “Fire?”

  “Yeah.” He takes another strand and lifts it in the air so that sunlight shines over it. “Bright. Warm. Wild.”

  I swallow hard, trying to press down the lump formed in my throat. His voice is light, but his eyes are looking at me with so much intensity it’s almost too hard to take.

  “Why now?” When I don’t answer him immediately, he continues. “Why are you going to do something you don’t like for him?”

  “He asked me,” I whisper.

  “Would you have come if I asked you?”

  His question hangs in the air between us, filling the empty room with so much tension in the air it can be sliced with a knife.

  “I–,” my voice sounds barely audible and rough, so I take a second to clear it and collect my toughs. “I don’t know.”

  That’s the honest to god answer. I don’t know, but I don’t think I would go. Derek is confusing me so much I don’t know what to think, much less do.

  “Why is it important?” I ask him defensively. “I’m going tomorrow.”

  “But you are going because of him!”

  His fingers go through his hair in frustration, leaving a mess out of it.

  “I’m going. Isn’t that the point of this whole conversation?” I yell loudly.

  God, he’s frustrating me so much! What does he want from me? I really don’t understand guys. They always complicate things so much, and then blame it on girls! He has never been nice to me, never invited me to a single thing. On good days, he ignored me. And now that other guy asks me to go somewhere or do something, he has the nerve to be angry?

  “No!” he shouts back at me. Then he takes deep, calming breath in before continuing. “The point is that I don’t want you to go for him.”

  We’ve moved so close to each other in our anger that our chests are touching, our breathing heavy and our faces are so close to each other we are sharing the same air. “The point is,” he swallows audibly, making his Adam’s apple move with motion, “I want you to be there for me.”

  I laugh, but it sounds bitter. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy flirting with other girls you’d find time to ask me in the first place.” My hand flies to cover my mouth, but it’s too late. The words already left my mouth, and almost instantly I regret saying them.

  I move as to dodge him, but his reflexes are fast and he has me caged between the desk and his big frame. “I want to go.”

  “Shame, ‘cause we are not done here.”

  “You can’t keep me here!” I try to push him away, but he doesn’t move an inch.

  “Watch me.” His smile’s smug, and it’s irritating me even more. “Now let’s back up a bit, you are acting all pissy at me because of the girls?”

  “I’m not discussing this.” I cross hands over my chest and look somewhere over his shoulder. Anywhere, just not at his arrogant face.

  He laughs, shaking his head in amusement. “You don’t have to. Your face says it all, littl
e one.” Derek’s hand cups my cheek, making me look at him. “God, you look so beautiful when you’re furious.”

  He doesn’t give me time to say anything or even breathe before his lips press against the corner of my mouth. My lips part at the sensation. I look at him, my eyes half closed, our lips lingering against each other’s.

  It’s like a game of wills. Let’s see who will give in first. How long can we prolong this suspense, this pent up anticipation?

  “You are killing me,” he breathes, and then I feel the full force of his kiss.

  There’s nothing nice or romantic about it. There is only this desperation.

  This hunger.

  This need.

  So much need.

  The moan comes from the back of my throat when I feel his tongue slide in my mouth. His hands are in my hair, holding me close to him. He possesses me. In every way and form, he possesses me and I don’t mind it one bit.

  My hands, with a mind of their own, find a way around him and onto his shoulders, pulling him closer to me. The sensation of his hard body against mine makes me want more of him. More of his hands sliding down my curves. More of his fingers in my hair. More of his lips. More… just more of him.

  Soon, his palms grab my butt. My squeal of surprise is muffled by Derek’s kiss. Curling my legs around his waist, I feel flat surface underneath me.

  The desk. We’re still at school.

  “We can’t.” I move away from him, getting just enough space to look at his face. “We are at school.”

  “So?” His voice is rough and pained. His light blue eyes are dark and glassy with passion.

  I put my hand on his chest to hold him still. His heart is beating furiously under my palm and his chest is moving in accordance with his fast, shallow breaths.

  “We are at school,” I say, this time more firmly. “Somebody could come in.”

  “They won’t.” He tries to kiss me again, but I turn to the side.

  His lips land on the sensitive skin of my neck. I shiver under his touch, making him smile. I can literally feel his smile on my skin. With the tip of his nose, he traces my neck until he comes to my ear where he leaves small kiss just behind it.

  “You have really sensitive skin,” he whispers in my ear. “So soft.”

  I want to tell him to stop doing this, to stop making me nervous, sloppy mess, but I can’t find my voice.

  Derek chuckles and takes a step back, lifting me with him. “Come on, we don’t want somebody to see us.”

  I don’t even want to know how we ended lying on the desk, but we did. My cheeks heat as I stand.

  “You did this on purpose,” I mutter, looking at his shit-eating grin.

  “There was nothing to do on purpose,” he replies. “The word that I broke things off with Diamond, although there was nothing to break really, spread through school faster than fire in the middle of hot, dry summer. Apparently, she laid a claim on me. Now, other girls want a piece, but I’m kindly brushing them off.”

  “O-kay, if you say so.” He tilts his head to the side, looking at me strangely. “What?”

  “Just …” He comes closer. I think he’ll kiss me again, but then his hands start going through my hair. I blush, thinking about how I must look like. Messy, wild hair, wide eyes, blushed cheeks, swollen lips, and I want to die of mortification.

  “Now,” he murmurs over me again. “Everything’s perfect.”

  Amelia

  “Broooook,” I whine at my friend. She doesn’t give me the courtesy of lifting her nose out of the notebook in which she’s been sketching, sitting on my window seat for last two hours. The exact same amount of time I’ve been bugging her to come with me to the hockey game.

  “No.” She purses her lips, and her head tilts to the side, looking at her sketch. “I told you yesterday not to agree to anything, any-single-thing that guy has to offer. And what did you do?” She lifts her head and looks at me, pissed. “Did you listen to me? No, because who listens to Brook, right? So now you go to the stupid hockey game by yourself. Or even better, with miss who has a stick shoved up her ass.”

  “But…”

  “No, buts.”

  “But…”

  “I said I don’t want to hear but.”

  “What are you going to do then?” I change my approach. Maybe she’ll decide to go if she realizes that she doesn’t have anything to do while I’m away.

  “I’ll stay here and hang out with Lola.” She shrugs. “It can’t take that long, can it?”

  Sighing, I throw myself at the bed. “I have no idea.”

  “Did you ask them how long it’ll take?”

  “Didn’t cross my mind,” I mutter, flashbacks of yesterday going through my head. And I’m not even talking about flashbacks of Max smooth-talking me into coming. I’m talking about what happened afterward with Derek.

  I can’t stop thinking about it, so much that I even dreamed of it last night. Tossing and turning at first, I finally managed to fall asleep only for my dreams to take me back to that classroom.

  I was lying on my back, Derek hovering over me. His lips moving, leaving small kisses from my shoulder, over my exposed collarbone, and up the neck. My fingers were tangled in his soft, blond hair, holding him closer to me. Not that he was showing any signs of going anywhere, but I didn’t want to risk being left hot and bothered by his touch.

  After repeating the same process on the other side, his lips finally found mine and all I could do was devour him. He tried to do that teasing thing again, but I softly bit into his lower lip…

  “Why are you so flushed?” Suspiciousness in Brook's voice brings me back from daydreaming.

  “No reason,” I utter quickly, but blush even more instead. So much for acting nonchalant.

  “Ohh, please…”

  “It’s hot in here.”

  Rolling her eyes at me, she returns to her drawing. “Tell that to yourself.”

  “It is hot in here,” I insist. “Anyway, returning to the subject, what does one wear to the hockey game?”

  “There is a dress code for a hockey game?” She laughs. “I thought people go naked to those things.”

  “Brook!” I throw one of the pillows sitting on my bed at her. “You are so not being funny!”

  “It is funny.” She throws pillow back at me. “You are so worked up over this thing.”

  “Am not!”

  “Are too!” She laughs. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you are worked up over all of this because Max asked you.”

  “What?” Stunned, I sit up. “No. That’s so not the reason.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I…”

  The sound of a door opening downstairs followed by Mom’s voice interrupts us. “Lia, you have company!”

  Brook and I exchange knowing glances. Lately, there’s been a lot of company coming over for me, so we aren’t really surprised. Or maybe just a little bit.

  She points her finger at me as I walk out of the room. “This discussion is not over, missy.”

  “Of course it’s not,” I agree, wondering who’s downstairs. “You still haven’t agreed to come to the game with me.”

  “And I’m so not going to!” she yells after me, making me laugh.

  I have to make her go with me because there is no way for me to survive it otherwise. Jeanette will probably just sit there without saying one word to me with a scowl on her face, so I’ll be left to fend for myself. Not that Brook would be much help in the understanding department, but at least I wouldn’t be bored out of my mind. She would probably have something fun or sarcastic to say about everything that’s happening on the ice.

  “Where’s that crazy dog of yours?”

  Hearing his voice almost makes me miss one step and fall face down. Thankfully, I have a habit of holding on to the railing.

  “Derek?” I look down at him standing next to the door. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at school preparing for the game or something?�
��

  “Or something.” He smiles at me, showing his straight white teeth and dimples in his cheeks. “I was on the way there but decided to stop by. So, where’s the dog?”

  “She’s out with Dad. He took her to the dog park. This isn’t really on the way to the school,” I point out loud, a little bit surprised with his answer.

  What’s with his popping by whenever he wants? He was here to work on a project, then he stopped by last weekend, and now he’s here again. Couldn’t he at least call to give me a heads up? I always look like a walking mess. My hair is all over the place, and I’m always wearing my old comfy clothes and these stupid fluffy socks.

  Not that I worry about how I look in front of Derek King. Not one bit.

  “It’s not that out of the way.”

  “You could have called.”

  “Not for this.” He shakes his head looking nervous.

  “This what?”

  He scratches the back of his neck. “What are you wearing tonight?”

  “What?” I burst in surprise. He is asking me about clothes? He came all the way here for that? Clothes? Seriously, this is getting more and more ridiculous by the second.

  “This is stupid.” His fingers go through his hair in frustration, making it even messier than usual. “Forget it. I’ll see you later.”

  He turns around and walks away. I watch him open and close the door behind him, shocked still.

  What the hell just happened now?

  Nothing about him makes any sense. Absolutely nothing.

  “Derek already left?” Mom asks, peeking through the doorway of the kitchen. She’s probably been there all the time listening.

  “I guess so.” I shrug, still confused with the whole situation.

  “Huh, strange.” She sounds almost disappointed. “He was standing at the doorway for quite some time before I came, making a hole in our front porch with his pacing back and forth. I thought he’d never ring the bell.”

  I frown at her words. Why would he do that? Guys are so complicated. Coming all the way here, finally entering, only to walk away without saying what you came to say in the first place?

  “I think I’ll just…” I don’t finish, but turn on my heels and open the door only to crash into him.

 

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