Forever Kinda Love

by Clara Stone

  “Nothing,” she mumbles.

  “Ace . . .” My voice gets low and deep.

  “Heath.” She raises her eyebrow in challenge.

  I grind my teeth, agitated she won’t tell me what had gotten her flustered enough to trip over her own feet. She was a ballet dancer, for crying out loud. “Grace” is her middle name.

  “Take it easy, Cujo. You can’t intimidate me with your snarls and caveman self.” She smirks. “Besides, I’m the one that should be pissed for your help with the rumor mill.”

  I fake gasp, placing my hand over my chest.

  She waves her hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, I know! I care about my reputation. Us dating? That’s so not natural.”

  I laugh. “That’d be like Shrek and Princess Leia dating. Or Donkey and R2-D2.”

  “Ohmigod! Stop.” She giggles, holding onto her stomach, falling back and rolling to her side to face me. “What’s with the Shrek and Star Wars pairings?”

  I grin widely. At least my best friend isn’t pissed at me anymore. Running my thumb over her knuckles, I ask, “Can I stay the night?” I give her my undeniably cute puppy-eyes. “Please?”

  “No!” She scoots down the bed, dragging her butt the length of it.

  I sit up. “You expect me to walk all the way home? That’s like fifteen miles away,” I whine.

  “Not unless I want you passed out on the side of the road, God knows where,” She says heading to the window and pulling it shut.

  I roll off the bed and saunter over to her. “So, you’re going to let me stay?”

  She shakes her head. “Go wait outside. Quietly.”

  “You used to let me stay over.” I eye her closet, where I know she has the sleeping bag I slept in.

  She rolls her eyes. “You slept over one time. One time,” she emphasizes, putting up her finger. “And that was because you stole your dad’s car. I didn’t want you to die trying to drive it back.” She crinkles her nose, a few folds forming at the corner where her nose and eyes meet. I want to kiss that. But I don’t. “Besides, that was way before you discovered boobs and girly bits.”

  I take a step closer, and she sucks in a deep breath. The slight accidental graze of her chest against mine sends a shiver up my spine. A smile forms over my lips. Yeah, totally not creepy.

  “What are we in, preschool?” I tease her. Seriously, who says girly bits?

  She shifts uncomfortably under my gaze.

  “Don’t you trust me, Ace?” I make sure my voice drops lower than usual, the one I usually save for other girls.

  She stands there stiff as a stick, like she hasn’t heard me. And I know she’s trying to figure out what game I’m playing. I want to grin like an idiot, but I force myself not to. Catching Ace off guard like this is a rarity.

  The muscles in her throat work as she swallows, and something inside me stirs, watching her get worked up.

  Her gorgeous gray eyes lock with mine from under her lashes. “There’s no one I trust more than you, Heath.” She drops her gaze to my lips for a second, before returning it back to my eyes.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful.” I run my finger down her jaw. She is so beautiful, and so perfect.

  “Tell me that when you’re not drunk,” she says, a slight nervous laugh accompanying it.

  I shove my fingers into her hair and pull her to me, my forehead pressing into hers. My hands start to shake. I don’t know what I’m doing or saying . . . but I can’t stop the next words from spilling out of me: “I’m not brave enough.”

  Her eyes close for a second, then bore into mine. “I don’t want people to have the wrong impression about us. You have a girlfriend, and this . . .” She points between us. “Can’t happen.”

  I pull back slightly and her face clears behind the buzz. Did I just try to . . . fuck! What the hell was I doing?

  “Now, if you’ll go wait outside . . .” She places her hands on my shoulders and turns me around, pushing me toward the door. “I’ll get changed and drive you home. Be quiet, okay? I don’t want Dad to wake up.” Then she clicks the door shut, leaving me to my thoughts.

  I push my forehead against her door and curse under my breath. I want to pound something. I pull my hand back and just as it makes contact with the door, it opens wide, and I’m falling forward. But before I kiss the floor, Ace’s arms wrap around me. She grunts as my weight falls on her.

  “I’ve got you.” Her breath stirs at my temples. “Let’s get you home,” she says, brushing my mess of hair back.

  I barely remember the drive home, or how I made it to my room, or even falling asleep.

  WEEKENDS ARE MY FAVORITE time of the week.

  Unless it’s days like these—when I get dragged to parties because I’m expected to be there. Because that’s the social norm and how the high school hierarchy is built.

  I hear a giggle coming from the other side of the pool. My head turns in the direction before I can stop myself. Lisa squeals, her long legs around Heath’s hips, as he runs with her and dives into the water.

  “Heath!” she cries again. More giggles erupt as a new wave splashes over them from others following Heath’s lead. Heath is quick to move her out of harm’s way, and they fall backward, her on top.

  I look away. Ever since Heath’s late-night, drunken visit, I can’t seem to erase these new feelings he raised inside me. Feelings that send shivers up my spine and make my heart skip a beat.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he’d said with his hand caressing my cheek. The way he’d acted with me that night was so different, so new . . . I don’t know what to think of it. I’ve been around him when he was drunk before, but . . .

  Another scream draws my gaze, followed by giggles. Heath and Lisa move their make-out session to a lounge chair. A heated grin appears on Heath’s profile as she straddles him, holding her hair back with one hand, sucking on his face. Okay, maybe kissing. But come on!

  Soon, he has her on her back and she giggles. Doesn’t she ever stop? His expression takes on a glint of pure, unadulterated lust. The kind I’ve never seen him emanate around me.

  Long legs block my view, and I squint up. Curly, blonde, chest-length hair flares as the sun shines just to the right of her head. Emily should have a beauty category of her own. She has the perfect body of a swimsuit model and the shiny hair of a hair model. And, like that isn’t enough, she has an attractive charm that most guys can’t seem to resist.

  Her grin spreads wide as she stares down at me. “You know, I’m really excited that you invited me here and all,” Emily drawls, sarcasm dripping from each word, her body blocking my view. “But I can’t exactly enjoy the man-goods when my best friend is sulking in a corner.”

  I peek around to look at her so called “man-goods.” The guy—Phil, one of Heath’s lacrosse teammates—eyes me with disinterest.

  “Ah-ha.” I crinkle my nose. I’ve known Emily since I was four, long before I met Heath. We were both kids with big dreams of becoming world-class ballerinas—that hasn’t panned out the way either of us had hoped. Knowing her for as long as I have, I can read her without the need to communicate. And right now, she wants to get rid of the guy.

  She juts her hip to the side, making the dazzling pink strings on her barely-there bikini bottoms swing. She tilts her head to the side, blocking the sun that was blinding me. “Plus, I’m bored outta my ever loving mind.”

  I sigh. The story of my life. “Yeah, you look like you’re ‘bored.’ ”

  Shaking her head, she turns to whisper something into the guy’s ear. He scowls at first, but that soon turns into an idiotic grin.

  I press my lips together to stifle a chuckle and look past the glass toward the ocean. Heath’s home is one of the luxury houses located along the coast—in the private part of Pine Cove—that easily run eight digits. But who can blame that price? The views are spectacular. Even from inside this well-insulated, enclosed pool, I can easily see the whitewater rolling hungrily into the shoreline.

&
nbsp; “You should pick another hobby.” Emily’s voice brings my attention back to her. She’s settled next to me, her legs stretched out before her. Her hands support her weight as she tilts her head back and points her boobs to the sky.

  “What happened to Phil?” I ask.

  “Who?”

  I shove her playfully and giggle. “Ohmigod! You don’t even know his name, and you went on a date with him?”

  She grins. “Hell no. Hot pieces of ass like Phil don’t date, darlin’. They’re useful for other things. Unlike the ass-hat I went out with last night.”

  My eyes bulge out of my sockets. I don’t even know why I’m surprised. It’s her. The free spirit. I pull my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I rock slightly, pushing my toes off the lounge chair and back. My gaze wanders the room, searching. “So, Specimen M from last night wasn’t up to your standards.”

  “You should totally go for Troy. He seems like a nice guy,” Emily says suddenly.

  “Troy?” The Troy? As in Heath’s friend and co-captain? “Seriously? That’s who you’d pick for me?” I jab her shoulder with mine. “Nice try, changing the subject. Whose identity are you trying so hard to hide? Just tell me! It’s the universal BFF rule.”

  “Well, apparently, I missed the memo,” Emily says coyly.

  I raise my eyebrow. Who is this guy she’s so determined to keep secret?

  “What?”

  I don’t budge, because I’m dying to know. I continue staring at her until she finally cracks.

  “Fine. Being on a date with Romeo—no pun intended—was like living inside the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movie.”

  “What?” I choke out a giggle. Our love for horror and gore is something that deepened the roots of our friendship. We’ve watched everything from Evil Dead—even the cheesy 1981 version—to Saw VII at least twice, five times in some cases.

  “He took us to a fancy restaurant, then spilled food over my lacy white blouse. I had to change into my back-up dress in the back of his car, all the while flashing God knows what . . .”

  I giggle. “The irony of the situation.”

  She glares.

  “What?” I shrug one shoulder. “It’s funny that you’re fuming about changing clothes in the backseat of his car, when you’ve done far worse in similar places. And, might I add, in multiple cars.”

  She smirks. “Good thing I like you, darlin’. If not, you’d be in worse shape than a granny needing her dentures for that comment.”

  I roll my eyes. “Prfft. You love me.”

  She grins, jumping to her feet, her hand swatting her bottom as if to fix her bikini. “Come on.” She extends her hand toward me. “It’s time to have some fun.”

  I place my hand in hers, and she pulls me to a standing position with one quick jerk.

  “I see Heath and Bambi,” she says; Bambi being Lisa.

  I freeze, and my gaze falls on them. He’s standing with a bunch of guys while she’s off with my other cheer teammates, showing off the new routine we’ve been working on for a week.

  “Show time, darlin’. Time to show these losers how to party for real, and that you aren’t sulking over him.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not sulking—”

  “Prove it.” She grabs my arms and pulls me behind her. She doesn’t let go until I follow her on my own.

  I pull off my cover-up and unbutton my denim short-shorts, revealing a red and pink ruffled top and retro-styled bottoms with white buttons down the side. It’s not quite as flashy as Emily’s, but it covers all the essential parts. Soon, we’re both chest deep in the water, splashing each other, giggling.

  She disappears underwater.

  “Em.” I spin and splash, the ripples from others in the pool making it hard to see around me. I know she’s here somewhere. Then, I see movement to my right.

  Something shoots through the surface of the water right behind me and I scream, falling forward. Emily is giggling and squirts water out of her mouth as she flaps her arms like a dolphin.

  I splash water in her face, my body heating with anger. “You’re such a bitch! You scared the hell out of me!”

  She laughs. Then we’re both squealing in surprise as we get lifted out of water. Rock’s grinning like a fool, his head tucked between Emily’s thighs.

  “What the fuck!” Her heels are tucked under Rock’s arms, like she’s trying to find her balance.

  “Chicken fight!” he yells.

  My heart flutters a thousand times, and I look down to discover who’s holding me up.

  “Hey, girls.” Heath’s rich, deep voice comes from between my legs. He looks up, water droplets covering his impossibly thick lashes. “I couldn’t miss the chance.”

  I can’t breathe, watching him stare up at me. He’s wearing that look he had when he was in my room. His voice is mischievous, and there’s a whole lot of . . . something in his hazel eyes.

  Suddenly, I’m feeling all kinds of nervous, and goose bumps coat my exposed skin. What’s going on with me today? I lick my lips and his mouth curves up into a sexy smile. I need to down a gallon of water. Speak, Ace. You’re staring.

  “Hi,” I squeak. Oh, very attractive. Maybe shutting your face is better.

  “You guys are going down!” Heath yells, looking toward Rock and Emily.

  “Ha, in your dreams, Iceman,” she responds, kneading her heel against Rock’s chest like he’s a horse.

  “Watch it, woman,” he snaps.

  From my peripheral vision, I see we’ve gathered a crowd. I’m acutely aware of Lisa staring at me. I feel the burns from the lightning bolts she’s throwing my way—or maybe it’s just my subconscious showing guilt. I part my legs to slip off Heath’s shoulder, but he grabs my thighs in a vice grip.

  “What are you doing?” he says, adjusting me back on his shoulders.

  My body flames from the closeness of his fingers to the area no one has ever gone before.

  Emily winks at me, and I wish the pool would open up and swallow me whole.

  “You are so not getting out of this, Ace,” she says.

  “We got this, Smalls.” Heath pats my thigh, sending a shiver up to my core. “Trust me, I won’t let you fall.”

  Another shiver shoots up my spine, and Emily laughs.

  “Biatch!” I shout.

  “Prove it,” she mouths back in a challenge, her smile turning angelic.

  Oh boy, here we go!

  TWO AND A HALF weeks later, the pressures from school, cheerleading, prepping for AP exams, and the fundraiser project are starting to take a toll on me. Sleep has become scarce, and the heavy bags under my eyes are more prominent. Vertigo plagues me, washing over me in random waves, and I have to hold on to grounded objects to keep steady. The nosebleeds aren’t helping either.

  Sometimes, I envy how well Lisa manages her time and responsibilities, all with a smile on her face. She approached me a few days back, offering to help if I needed it.

  “You look tired, Ace,” she said. “You sure you want to continue taking over all these responsibilities? I’m sure I can have one of the other girls—”

  “No, no. I’m fine. Just a little out of sorts,” I responded with a small smile. “I just need a little more sleep and less partying.”

  Her forehead puckered between her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “You know, I’m not just being nice because of Heath. You’re a great asset to our team and a really sweet girl. I don’t want to lose you because you’re overwhelmed. Sometimes, it’s okay to ask for a little help.”

  I nodded. “I know, Lisa. And thank you for being so understanding. But really, I just need some rest.”

  But even as those words had slipped from my tongue, I’d felt like I was lying.

  Just a few more weeks, I keep telling myself, just a few more weeks, and it’ll be over. I’ll finally be able to breathe again. The irony of that thought isn’t lost on me as I wave my hand in front of my face—coughing. The air is thick with the smell of cigarette smoke and alc
ohol.

  “My lungs have officially become smoker lungs.” Why had I let Vincent drag me here? This wasn’t exactly the kind of rest I’d had in mind when he insisted we take a break from working on the project.

  I hear hollers and hoots coming from the far corner of the room and lean out of the booth, looking toward the sound just in time to see a guy thrown from the mechanical bull.

  “Here.” Rock hands me a glass of water. “Want another drink?” He wiggles his eyebrows, waving his fake ID between his fingers, suggesting he’ll go get me some alcohol.

  I shake my head, taking a sip from the glass. “Your brother has me covered.”

  He shrugs.

  I glance over my shoulder and catch Vincent talking to the bartender—I think. He seems very into her; I can make out the traces of hand-holding as he brushes her hair out of her face. At one point, he pushes himself up on the counter, his feet dangling, and whispers something. Her eyes bug out, and she nods. He swaggers his way back to our table. When his eyes connect with mine, I look away, heat filling my cheeks.

  I turn back around to find Rock missing. Some creepy dude has taken his place—staring at me. I look away, not interested.

  Sighing, I glance back to where I’d last seen Vincent. When I don’t find him there, I search the crowd.

  Hot breath tickles my ear, and a familiar voice whispers, “Miss me?”

  “Vince! Oh my God, you scared me!” I squeal and laugh like a five-year-old.

  He sets my drink on the table. Our legs brush against each other as he slides into the booth next to me.

  “Having fun yet?”

  “So, your definition of fun is . . . drinking? Really? That’s the best you can do?” I challenge him.

  He raises an eyebrow, and his eyes turn a smoldering, dark chocolate. “Sweetheart, you have no idea the kind of fun I can show you.” He gulps down a shot, then another, as my mouth hangs open and my cheeks blaze.

  Did he just . . . ?

  His cool finger slides under my chin and pushes it up, shutting my mouth. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, leaning in. The smell of alcohol fills my lungs. “I really like your mouth.”