Love Between Enemies

by Molly E. Lee

  I leaned down and asked Zoey, “What are the chairs and stuff for?”

  “The floor is lava,” she said, like that explained everything.

  “Right,” Jesse agreed. “And everything you hear in True American is a lie.” Everyone in the room laughed…except me. I swallowed hard and focused. Catching on and impressing Zoey shouldn’t matter, but…it did. “Okay,” Jesse continued. “Time to pick teams.”

  Zoey nudged me and whispered four.

  “One, two, three!” Jesse shouted while counting the beats with his fist before he threw up two fingers and pressed them to his forehead. Everyone else in the room did something similar, only with different numbers, so I quickly shot up four.

  “Nice!” Zoey smiled, high-fiving me.

  “Ugh,” Jesse groaned. “The Brainiacs are at it again. Oh well, lucky for us this game doesn’t involve your brain much.” Another wave of laughter flowed through the room as everyone moved toward their partners. Jesse scooped up a beer. “I’ll kick us off.” He patted his pockets and glanced around the room. “Anyone have a set of keys?”

  I reached toward my back pocket to grab mine, but Zoey snatched my hand. “I have some!” she said, still holding on to my hand while she practically flung her keys at Jesse.

  I swallowed hard, eyeing her grip, and not able to stop the way I relaxed under her touch. Her eyes were wide, almost frantic, but she flashed me a grin.

  “Shotgun!” Jesse yelled, drawing my attention away from Zoey. He pushed the tip of one of her keys into the beer he’d picked up, instantly put the hole to his mouth, and downed the beer in record time. Zoey dropped my hand to catch her keys when he tossed them to her. “JFK!” he shouted.

  “FDR!” everyone but me screamed back, and then they darted to available chairs or pillows.

  “Gordon!” Zoey yelled, a giggle in her voice. “The floor is lava!” I jolted and lunged for the first thing available—the mini-tramp. It gave slightly under my weight but sprung back.

  Whoa…

  It took me a couple of seconds to gain my balance. Zoey held her side to contain her laughter.

  “All trash!” Jesse yelled, crunching the empty beer can in his hand.

  “Belongs in the junkyard!” everyone yelled as he tossed the can into the corner of the room, where an empty cardboard box was set up.

  “I have no idea what is going on,” I said, shaking my head but unable to stop my laugh.

  “You’ll get it,” Zoey said from her position atop a chair next to me. “Just grab a pawn and crack it open.”

  After twenty-five minutes, two pawns, and one near fatal slip from the trampoline into the lava later, I had a somewhat, marginal, barely-at-all grasp of the game.

  “The only thing you have to fear!” I hollered and tossed my empty pawn into the junkyard.

  “Is fear itself!” everyone cheered, Zoey’s bubbly voice overshadowing every other person’s in the room. The light tone called to me, distracting and welcome all night. It almost made me forget to throw up a number of fingers on my forehead in order for a chance to move spaces. I tossed up the number three, my eyes darting to everyone else.

  “That’s you!” I pointed to Zoey, who was the only other person who’d chosen the number three.

  “Yes!” She reached to give me a high five, but her chair tilted onto two legs and she wobbled.

  I darted out my arms and grabbed her underneath her shoulders before she could fall to the floor. I drew her close, encasing her against my chest until her feet found the trampoline. My heart raced as I looked down at her wide eyes. She wetted her bottom lip, and I could feel her heart beating furiously against my chest.

  “Safe!” Jesse shouted, and a succession of cheers and whoops filled the room.

  Zoey laughed, and I did, too. I finally—regretfully—released my tight hold on her.

  “Thanks for not letting me go into the lava,” she said, breathless.

  “I’d never let you fall,” I said, nearly a whisper. Something buzzed in my blood, and it wasn’t the beer. It wasn’t the fact that we were winning the game either.

  It was Zoey.

  “Come on,” she said, offering me her hand. “We have to move together or we’ll lose.” She eyed the chair she’d nearly fallen off of, then the chair a good three feet from it that was nearest the table with the pawns and king on it. “Um…” She glanced back at me.

  I saw the problem just as she did. It would take some excellent coordination on our parts to be able to move toward the same chairs without losing our connection.

  “Five,” Jesse said, starting a countdown. “Four…”

  “Ah!” Zoey shifted her weight, grabbed my hand, and tugged. “We have to go! Our chairs are melting.”

  “Three…”

  Without thinking, I swiped an arm under Zoey’s knees and cradled her to my chest. She squealed and wrapped around my neck. I kept a firm hold on her, shocked at how light and easy she felt against me as I made the three moves necessary to get us to our final destination.

  “One!” Jesse yelled right as I set both feet on the chair. “Ugh! Even when brains don’t matter, you still end up winning!”

  I laughed and set Zoey down, but little space on the chair meant our bodies were still flush. She dropped her hands from my neck, the tips of her fingers sliding over my chest with a featherlight touch before she grabbed the whiskey bottle off the table and took a fast swig.

  She hissed, her face scrunching up in the most adorable way. “We’re unstoppable!” she cheered. She set the bottle down and hurled her hands in the air.

  The celebration threw her off-balance once again. My hands flew to her hips. The excitement died in her throat. Her shirt had come up only an inch or two with her arms raised. But an inch was a mile, because I touched a sliver of exposed skin. I swallowed hard, clinging to her to make sure she wasn’t going to fall.

  “All right,” Jesse said as everyone started hopping off chairs. “Fifteen-minute break. Then we’ll set up another game.” Several empty pawns were thrown into the junkyard before people left the room, but Zoey and I hadn’t moved from our tight position on the chair.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zoey

  The room had cleared out for a break, but I still couldn’t bring myself to move away from Gordon as we stood on the chair. My palms grew slick the longer we stayed in silence. The room somehow seemed louder now than it had when it was packed with people screaming JFK and FDR.

  His hands were still on my hips. His fingertips grazed my skin underneath my shirt that had dropped when I let my arms fall. It felt forbidden, and I flushed like I was on fire. He was the last person who should make me feel so…alive.

  “This is nice.” I hated that it wasn’t a lie. That I didn’t have to fake how great I felt right here, in this spot, wrapped up in him. It would be easier if he was a straight-up asshole, someone I could hate. But he wasn’t. He never had been. And, yes, this morning had been awful, but this? Right here against him felt…safe and amazing and thrilling all at the same time.

  Gordon chuckled, glancing down at me.

  “What’s funny?” I asked, laughing because he’d at least broken the tortured awkwardness.

  He shrugged. “Can’t help thinking that I wouldn’t have pictured myself here this morning.”

  “No?”

  “I hadn’t planned on coming.”

  “Right,” I said. “I was the reason.” Because he needed to apologize for being an ass. “And yet, you’re still here.” Thankfully. Time was ticking, and we were so close. I hoped revenge would taste as sweet as it had planning it this morning. The doubt in my stomach told me it would be disappointing.

  “Why not?” He grinned, oblivious in a way that almost made me feel sorry for him. “It’s grad night. I’ve missed most of these parties trying to stay smart enough to keep up with you.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t you get that?” He didn’t break my gaze. “It’s not easy, always fighting for
the same things with someone as brilliant as you.”

  He thinks I’m brilliant?

  “Sacrifice,” he continued. “Not that I don’t love it. Didn’t love it. The challenge. The push…but damn, Zoey.”

  “What?” I asked when he didn’t continue. Could he feel the boiling heat between us, too?

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head and let go—NO!—of my hips. Then he shifted to hop down off the chair. He offered his hand to me.

  Don’t do it.

  Don’t!

  But like an addict who’s discovered a new high, I took his hand and let him help me down.

  “Sometimes I just wonder if you realize how easy you have it,” he said.

  I jerked my hand out of his. “Excuse me?”

  “Being you,” he said like he hadn’t picked up on the sharpness of my tone. “I wonder what it would be like to be you for a day. Beautiful, brilliant Zoey. Perfect life. Perfect family—”

  “Easy there,” I said, cutting him off. “You’re dangerously close to sounding like you’re about to make a speech again.”

  His eyes widened. He reached his hand out like he was going to cup my cheek, but he thought better of it—maybe finally seeing something in my expression—and dropped his hand. “No. No, I didn’t mean it like that.” His words were coming a little slower than they had at the beginning of the night. Looked like I’d reached one of my goals in plan A.

  “I don’t have a perfect life,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Everyone thinks so, but they’ve got no freaking clue.” Something sizzled in my blood, and I was unsure if I was angrier that he’d reminded me of all the reasons I’d hatched my plan, or the fact that he assumed so much about me like the rest of the school. “I don’t know why I expected you of all people to know better,” I said, letting some of my frustration bubble out of my lips. I huffed. “Maybe it’s because I thought all those times we chatted after competitions, or when we handed over custody of Branch that you understood me. Maybe it’s because I thought you were smart enough to see me.” I spun around, traipsing out of the room in a hurry. I couldn’t be in there with him a second longer. Everything was getting tangled. One minute I was on track with my revenge, the next I was regretting the plan altogether.

  I hurried out the front door of Lennon’s house, desperate for fresh air.

  “Jade, wait!” I heard Lennon call out from the right of me, toward his garage. I spotted him, rushing after Jade—the all-star Mathlete—who slowed when she heard his voice. When did rock star Lennon and number-cruncher Jade get together?

  Looks like I’m not the only one trying to get some space.

  “Lennon,” she said, turning around and sighing. The look she gave him stopped him in his tracks. I raised my eyebrows—there was something there. A combination of fire and ice, and I wasn’t sure if they’d been fighting or…well, something else entirely.

  There’s a story there.

  He reached his hand toward her, an almost pained look in his eyes, but his tense shoulders dropped when she leaned into his touch.

  Grad night had everyone taking crazy pills.

  Heat flushed over my own body, and I booked it in the opposite direction. Girl code had me waiting to see if Jade needed an out, but the pair looked like they’d been more than comfortable with each other, if not annoyed. Who knew what had happened between them tonight, but I’m sure Bray would fill me in later. She and Jade were almost as close as we were.

  I walked to the edge of the lake.

  Calm down.

  The rumors had always bothered me, but never as much as when he brought them up.

  Why did I care so much what he thought? Why did he have the power to get under my skin in a way no one else ever did?

  Because we’d been on the same playing field our entire lives. Because we’d been at each other’s throats our entire lives.

  You know that’s not why.

  I ignored the voice churning in the back of my head that begged me to see clearly.

  No. I wouldn’t listen to any emotionally twisted arguments tonight. I wouldn’t deviate from the plan. That’s what I excelled at—make a plan, execute it, win. That’s who I was.

  And I hated Gordon more for making me feel like anything other than myself. Hated him for making me feel for him at all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gordon

  My head spinning, I stumbled out of the room after ten minutes passed and Zoey hadn’t returned. I went to the kitchen for water, but two gulps showed me that wasn’t enough. Time to hunt for Lennon’s Keurig. I found it stashed in a hidden cabinet above the marbled countertop, along with a wide selection of K-cups. I picked one at random and popped it in the machine, desperate to clear my head.

  Note to self: never play Quarters or True American with Zoey.

  She’d had it out for me, and I couldn’t blame her, but I also couldn’t deny there was something more happening between us. Something that I couldn’t explain, and wasn’t a hundred percent sure I wanted explained. I mean, it was just one night of pretending like we weren’t always pitted against each other. Like we were friends who connected on a level deeper than any academic competition or internship could muster.

  Except it didn’t feel like we were pretending.

  I took a sip of the steaming hot cup of coffee, cringing when the overly sweet flavor hit my tongue. It was like some over-the-top salted caramel mochaccino stuff—fancy people coffee—likely Lennon’s mom’s, but it would have to do. I’d driven here and would have to head home soon. I couldn’t show up to the meeting in the morning looking like I’d raged all night. Time to sober up.

  A slight pang hit my chest. After the rough day, the buzz of the party—and Zoey—had kept the onslaught of disappointment at bay.

  I needed to see her one last time.

  Except as the sweet caffeine started to peel back the fog in my brain, my most recent conversation with her echoed in my ears.

  She’s pissed.

  No wonder she hadn’t come back. I hadn’t meant to upset her. I was just speaking out loud in general curiosity. Seriously, I wanted to know what it would be like to live a day in her world. A world where her future wasn’t dangling by a thin thread. I hadn’t meant to offend her…again.

  I facepalmed myself with my free hand and sloshed back the rest of the coffee in a hurry. I had to find her to apologize…again. A couple on the verge of making out blocked the sink. Careful not to disrupt them, I set the empty mug on the counter.

  Now to find Zoey.

  But a quick scan of the house suggested that Zoey had ventured outward.

  Assuming she didn’t leave.

  A slight panic scraped at my insides, and I sucked in a slow breath to calm the eff down. She hadn’t drunk as much as I had—barely at all, really—so she would be fine to drive, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to.

  That’s it. If I found her, I’d make it clear we were both done for the night. We could stay for Lennon’s show, but drinking wasn’t doing either of us any good.

  That sounds awfully close to something a boyfriend would say.

  I stopped short on Lennon’s front porch. Boyfriend?

  Whoa, I just wanted one night where I wasn’t myself. When did I start…caring about Zoey as more than a clever adversary?

  Probably the second she forgave you.

  Maybe even before that.

  I shook my head and stepped off Lennon’s porch steps, giving nods and high fives to a few guys as I headed toward the lake in search of her. Torches lining Lennon’s land illuminated the paths along the lake with an orange glow. It didn’t take long for me to spot a glow of blond hair that appeared almost silver in the night.

  I breathed a massive sigh, wishing like hell I hadn’t wanted to find her as badly as I did. It only posed more questions that I had no answers to, and I hated that feeling. It was foreign to me. At least until tonight.

  “Zoey,” I said as I jogged up to her where she stood at the ed
ge of the lake, the ground squishing beneath my shoes. The stage Lennon had set up was about a hundred yards away, and farther than that was the intense crate of fireworks he’d brought in for the party. The spot Zoey had picked was much more secluded, so much so I could barely hear the sounds of the party that had blared back at the house. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  She turned to glance at me, her arms crossed over her chest. “You found me. Again.”

  “Well,” I said, sighing. “I need to apologize to you…again.”

  She huffed out a laugh, returning her focus to the lake. “Why bother?”

  “Because,” I said, moving to stand in front of her. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  She arched her head to look me in the eye. “You didn’t.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Then you’re just out here for…?”

  “Needed some space.”

  “From me.” I took a few steps away from her, understanding. I wouldn’t stick around where I wasn’t wanted, and at least she knew I was sorry. “Okay, I’ll go.” I walked past her toward the house, but she reached out and caught my wrist to stop me.

  “Wait,” she said, and I returned to the spot in front of her. She dropped my wrist. “You don’t have to go.”

  I rubbed my palms over my face. The whole night was giving me whiplash. “Look,” I said, meeting her eyes. “I honestly didn’t mean what I said earlier in a bad way. I meant it as a compliment.”

  “Ha!” she barked. “You’re kidding, right?”

  I shook my head.

  “Everyone says that crap about me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Everyone.” She softened her voice. “Do you know how old it gets? Having people judge you just because of who your father is? Who your family is? People don’t see me when they glance at me in the halls or spot me in town, they see my family’s company. They don’t see the way I bust my ass for every single thing I’ve earned the last four years, they see my father’s bank account.” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve walked in on girls saying snide things about me—things like I wouldn’t be top of my class if my father hadn’t dumped donations into the school, or the only reason I’m in charge of so many charities was for PR for the family business. That I never cared about anything except getting ahead…by any means necessary.” The last few words brought her up short, and she clenched her eyes together.