by Rachel Kiss
Finally, I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to be strong. “Maybe you shouldn’t come.”
“What?! Why? I thought you missed me as much as I miss you.”
“Look, we have a weird past, Julia. It hasn’t done good things to my heart.”
“I’ll make it up to you, Blake! I swear!”
I bit my lip, then finally just asked her point-blank: “Have you heard stuff about me doing stuff with your roommate?”
“—what?!”
Backtrack!
“Um, no. Nothing. My teammates were just telling me about a rumor going around campus. But it’s probably about this other Renee. One I actually dated … and actually knew.”
Julia quickly replies (hostile-y), “Right, you DON’T know my roommate, Blake.” Then she adds, “—at all.”
“I know.”
“She has a boyfriend.”
“I know.”
“He’s like, the star of our school’s basketball team, and majorly rich. MAJORLY.”
“I know.”
“They’ve been going out for over a year.”
“I know.”
“Also, her mother is in rehab/a mental-hospital AGAIN and Renee is moving out of the dorms to take care of her younger brother.”
“Oh.” Heart-wrench. “That’s sad.”
“Right. Well, don’t feel too sorry for her. She’ll have the house to herself—no parents, as her dad is dead.”
“Again—that’s sad.”
“Look, the girl is a total prude, Blake. She doesn’t like girls, not in the way you wish.” Then she adds, “—not even close. Things like that make her squirm.”
I lay my head on the table and don’t text her back.
But she texts me back. “I’m still going to come see you Blake. I miss you so much! I want to make up for the past.”
CHAPTER 7
***RENEE***
RENEE
As I’m moving out of my dorm room, Julia is acting mad. I don’t know what that’s about. I thought she understood. I don’t have a choice. I’m all my brother has right now.
Julia gives me the evil-eye as I say goodbye to her.
She asks hostile-like, “Are you spreading lies that you got it on with Blake?”
Ohhh, so that’s what this is about? Me lying about her friend? Whoops! I didn’t know the crazy lie was going to get spread around like it has. But I haven’t ever denied it—yet. Philip has always made me feel kind of boring, sexual-wise. This is the first thing that has ever been spread about me that has not had the connotation of “ice-queen.” Ever.
“It was just to bug Philip,” I explain to Julia quickly. “Since he was all smug about me not seeing tons of guys while we were on our stupid break.”
Julia looks slightly appeased. Sort of. But she still looks rather irate about it, though I don’t get why she’d care one way or the other. Although I have to admit, Julia and I have never been all that close. But I honestly didn’t realize she’d been all that close to Blake either. Now I’m starting to see I was wrong about that. Big time.
Julia scoffs, “Blake is a girl, Renee.”
She says it as though I hadn’t noticed.
She goes on, kind of sneering, “Her name is Brooke, by the way. Blake is her last name. But underneath her clothes, and chosen boy-name, she’s a girl. Are you really interested in getting it on with a girl, Renee?”
Unfortunately, I kind of am. But didn’t I just tell her it was a lie that I told Philip? I don’t get what is going on. Why is she acting this way?
She goes on, just as hostile-like, “Blake likes girls, Renee. In fact, she likes me. You know how I told you we went to middle school together? Well, we were truly together—in every sense of the word.”
“Oh-kay.”
This is news to me. But I don’t understand why she’s telling it to me. Especially now. I’m leaving. Not the school, but the dorm. We’ll probably never see each other again.
Also, there is the glaring fact: Blake is gone.
So what the—??
I mean, why the angry tone and evil glare?
Boy, I’m glad to be leaving.
The chick be crazy.
CHAPTER 8
***RENEE***
RENEE
The first day of the new semester, I was coming out of my sociology class, and then—bam! My eyes locked on to Blake’s.
She froze when she saw me.
We stared at each other a long, long time.
For a strange, magical moment it was like the world faded away. There was only Blake and her dark hungry eyes glued to me.
Her lips parted slightly as she continued to stare at me.
“You’re back,” I finally murmured in wonder.
She grunted. “I heard we kissed.”
Her breath seemed ragged and shallow. My knees actually went weak from that, and from her unwavering stare.
But of course her words sent me up in flames. (Embarrassing!) I think I would have died of embarrassment right there on the spot, but the way her ravenous eyes were drinking me in—no. I had to hold on to the wall beside me to keep from toppling over, and it had absolutely nothing to do with embarrassment.
It had to do with want. And lust. And a magnet that seemed to be drawing us together.
But immediately the moment was gone. Julia was at Blake’s elbow, snapping us out of our heated spell.
Julia linked her hand in Blake’s. Blake closed her eyes, like so she didn’t have to see me go pale from disappointment. And sheer agony. Heart-wrench!!
Meanwhile, Julia gave me a cold glare, whisking Blake away with her, without saying a word to me.
Not. One. Word.
CHAPTER 9
***RENEE***
RENEE
It’s been almost a year since that stuff happened. Julia went on to keep giving me the silent treatment, and cold glares, Blake right by her side, every minute of every day—it seemed. I guess it would have continued on like that forever—but Julia died recently. (Died!) She was drunk one night and texting while crossing the street—and she got hit by a car. And died.
However, I haven’t talked to Blake about it, or anything else—ever. I haven’t spoken one word to her. Not since the day she first came back to our school. After that, she seemed to be giving me the cold treatment right along with Julia. Like my lie about us hooking up had disgusted her, or made her intensely mad or worried that I was dementedly insane. Or something. It was embarrassing. And hurt my feelings.
So we never, ever spoke. Or even looked at each other again without a bit of a wince added to it, and then quickly looking away. Well, that’s what she did. I think I kept looking at her with yearning—but not on purpose. Because I was mad at her—or tried to be anyway. I mean, so I lied. Right. But did she have to be so hateful about it?
Apparently, she did. Or anyway, if not hateful, then cold. It was mean.
And continued all year.
Yet to my shock, Blake pulls me aside as I’m leaving English 301—which she’s in as well. “I liked your poem,” she tells me, sounding kind of husky.
“Thanks,” I murmur and try to be an ice-queen, try to walk around her.
She blocks my way with a determined smile. “I liked it a lot.”
Making sure I can’t keep walking this time, she places an arm against the wall as she goes on, “It made me think I’d like you a lot.” Her eyes peek into mine. “I’d like to spend time with you and find out.”
I sigh. “I’ll save you the time, Blake. I assure you, you would like me—a lot. In fact, you would end up adoring me.”
Her jaw muscles flicker. “You make that sound like a bad thing. I’d like to adore you.”
I scoff. “No. You think you would. But you wouldn’t. It would just be frustrating for you. I come with a lot of baggage—and issues.” Then I add, “—and I don’t put out. In fact, despite the bizarre rumors about us that you might have heard, I hardly ever even kiss. Almost never.”
A strangl
ed choke noise of surprise comes from her. “Seriously?”
“As serious as a heart attack,” I tell her and start to walk away—her letting me this time, since she is thrown for a loop. I knew she would be. But whatever. She gave me the cold treatment a whole, entire year. She wouldn’t even look at me. So, I’m trying to concentrate on that—she hurt me—instead of the fact I find her dead sexy. But I do. So hearing that she would like to adore me isn’t quite as blah as I might have made it sound. In fact, it gave me tingles. A mother load of tingles.
But I’m not going to let her know that.
As I walk away, she repeats the words like it’s a foreign concept, one she doesn’t quite buy. “You don’t put out?”
“Nope,” I tell her matter-of-factly.
After a brief pause, she unfreezes and walks along beside me, once again sporting her adorable lopsided smile. “Well, I could help you with that,” she says with a playful note in her voice, her gorgeous eyes twinkling as she tries not to give away that she’s only playing with me.
I scoff anyway, though she’s only teasing. “Yeah, that’s the thing—I wait for love,” I tell her as I speed up my pace. “To me, waiting for it’s not a problem.”
She blocks my way again, her seductive eyes looking completely sincere now as they stare into mine. “Look, to be honest, I don’t see it as a problem either, Renee. I swear.”
Whoa. Even her words sound sincere. Completely, full-on earnest.
I swallow.
Okay, even though she has basically yanked out my heart and stomped on it by her completely ignoring me all this time, still … my heart goes out to her. It just does. I mean, I told you the totally heart-wrenching thing that happened to her, right? Her long-time girlfriend, that she totally, whole-heartedly loved and adored with every inch of her deliciously tough-girl heart—died.
It annihilated Blake.
So my walls against her are crumbling. Fast.
I nervously glance at Blake as she stares at me like—well, like I’m Julia. Or at least look like her or something. (Which I don’t. Julia had long, gorgeous blond hair. I have long auburn hair. And Julia had wide blue eyes. Mine are green.)
Not too much about Julia and I are similar. Definitely not enough for Blake to be looking at me the way she is.
So … what’s up with her?
My poem really got to her? Admittedly, it was that kind of poem. It was about my dad. About love and seeing the person again after death—in heaven. So, maybe it made her think of Julia?
But even so, I can’t imagine that she would actually choose to talk to me just because of it. I mean, we haven’t talked in almost a year—and even then, just barely. Apparently my lie about us hooking up had disgusted her. So, you know, ouch!
I tilt my head as she continues to stare at me dreamy-eyed and longing. It’s making heat sizzle through my body and a tingling sensation skitter through my insides.
I twist my long silky hair. (Something I do when I’m not sure what to do with my hands.) (Right now I’m just trying to keep them off Blake.) However, the gesture—my hair twisting—makes Blake’s eyes glimmer. A tiny noise escapes her lips.
My heart speeds up.
I tilt my head further. “Is there something you want, Blake?” I ask her. “Like … tutoring or something?”
I figure that must be it. I mean, when guys want my help they flirt. Big time. Like they hope their kisses will bring upon whatever favor they need. Wrong! (Though not in Blake’s case. If poor, grieving Blake needs help to catch up with her schoolwork, I’ll gladly help her—if I can. I don’t exactly excel in math (at all) but knowing how much she loved Julia makes my heart ache. It just does. So, even though we have a rocky past—still, my heart longs to help her. Well, longs for her in general.
Don’t get me wrong though. I mean, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression about whatever is happening here. She adored Julia. After they got together Blake was no longer interested in me. At all. She had Julia and Julia was all she ever looked at. Ever. But now, sadly, Julia is gone, and Blake seems lost. But even so, she still doesn’t look at other girls. Ever.
… except she’s looking at me. Right now. And the look in her eyes is—well, it’s making me weak in the knees, actually. And making it so I can’t breathe right and I have to hold on to the wall to keep from toppling over.
Blake shakes her head slightly to my question. “No, I don’t need tutoring,” she murmurs. She holds up her math book to me slightly with a faint smile, since it’s proof. She’s in a higher math class than me. Way higher.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” she says.
My heart slams against my chest.
She goes on huskily, “But I guess I should get to my own class.”
She backs away from me—just a bit—her eyes still fixed on me. “’Bye Renee.”
“Bye,” I choke out, blinking after her as she finally walks away.
What just happened?
CHAPTER 10
***RENEE***
Since our bizarre (romantic??) encounter in front of my math class today, I’ve been thinking about Blake to the point of bordering on demented stalker. I mean, what’s suddenly up with her? What made her so dramatically change? Go from the cold-treatment to sizzling hot? More to the point: Why did her eyes gaze at me the way they did?—so full of longing?
Just the thought of it has my heart pounding wild. It has all day.
Now I’m sitting in the university’s library still thinking about Blake. I don’t have anything I’m actually needing a library for—I’m just doing my homework here while I wait for my little brother to get done with hockey practice. I’m his ride. Everywhere. However, his middle school holds their hockey practices here at our university. So far that hasn’t worked out too bad—me just sticking around on campus while they practice every night.
Anyway, it’s here—in the library—where I secretly hear updates about poor Blake, since lately her friends from the hockey team discuss her during their “mandated” study-hours (which a lot of the hockey team has to log into at the library). They don’t discuss Blake like gossiping though. Nothing like that. They do it in a very concerned kind of way. It’s incredibly sweet to me because the guys I’m talking about—the guys on the hockey team with Blake—are terrifyingly tough. Especially Griffin and Mason—and that’s who I hear talking about Blake all sweet and concerned, worried that Blake is in serious depression. It’s sad to hear.
“I don’t think Blake’s even left her apartment for anything other than hockey and school since Julia died,” Griffin says, trying to be quiet, since it’s the library—though, not at all as quiet as usual. Usually I have to strain to overhear him and Mason talking. (Yeah, I’ve become a continual devoted stalker lately, fascinated with their conversations about poor Blake.)
“Yeah, it’s getting concerning,” Mason agrees. “Maybe we should throw her an intervention.”
“More like a party,” Griffin says. Then—to my shock—he gazes over at me, “Hey Renee, would you come if we threw Blake a party?”
Gasp!—he knew I was listening.
I swallow, trying to get my mouth to work. I’ve never actually spoken to Griffin or Mason—ever—in my entire life. (They are big and tough … and scary.) I had no idea they even knew who I am. So, I’m quite stunned. (To say the least.)
I finally answer, “Um, probably not,” I admit. “I don’t go to your kind of parties.”
Griffin grins, “‘Our’ kind of parties?” He says it like he thinks I’m under the impression he’s an alien from another planet. His grin grows. “If it was your kind would you come?”
“Um, I don’t have a kind. I don’t go to parties.”
“We noticed that.” He tilts his head. “Why is that?”
Because I’m a parent—basically. I have to be responsible, since I’m all my younger brother has now. My mom is in a mental hospital, and it’s not looking like she’ll be out any time soon. I’m now the legal guardia
n of Jason, my younger brother. It’s basically made me turn into a thirty year-old practically over night. I mean, my last boyfriend dumped me, saying I wasn’t “fun” anymore. He was right, of course, but also clearly a jerk. Good riddance to him. Like I said, he was my last boyfriend. He left a bitter taste in my mouth. I mean come on, I had to lie to him about having a social life—saying I made-out with Blake. (What kind of relationship is that?)
Besides, I don’t have time for the drama that comes along with boyfriends, or any interest in it actually. None at all. Now my interests lie solely on school, my brother, and paying the bills.
Still, none of that stuff is what’s going through my brain at the moment. What is swimming around in there is the fact Griffin said “we” noticed that—that I don’t go to parties. Who is this “we”? And why are they “noticing” me?
I stare at Griffin and he seems to realize that he has unhinged me with his information. He smirks in that easy-going way he has, and tells me matter-of-factly, “The chick is infatuated with you.”
I blink. “Huh?”
Griffin leans towards me confidential-like, “You know that play you were in?—Blake went to every single showing of it. Every. Single. One. And no offense, but it was a pretty girlie show.” He raises his eyebrows, “I’m just sayin’. Blake’s not really a girly-girl. But she was into your play. Big time.”
“Yeah,” Mason agrees. “We can’t get Blake to leave her house for anything—but she dragged us to your show a bunch of times. And she saw it by herself a bunch of times too.”
“We think it was the wig,” Griffin says.
Heat goes through me as I realize what he’s saying. The wig is long and blond—like Julia’s hair.
My heart sinks, and I sort of feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach.
