The Damned

by Jennifer Snyder

  She flashed me that look, the one all parents seemed to get when talking about senior year of high school, the one where you know some lame, long ass lecture about how this is going to be the best year of my life rests on the tip of their tongue.

  “We’re going to my room to hang out for a bit.” Steven started toward the back of the house, saving me from the memory lane lecture, and I followed.

  “All right.” Mrs. Stiles dropped her eyes back to her e-reader. I’d often wondered what type of books she read on that thing. It seemed like every time I came over it was in her hands. For whatever reason, a thought came to me that made the corners of my mouth lift into a devilish smirk—I bet they were dirty books. Mrs. Stiles was probably into reading those sexy books only a man would label as porn. “I’ll be up here reading if you need anything,” she called after us.

  “Okay,” Steven muttered as we passed through the kitchen and headed toward the basement stairs.

  “Hey, what type of books does your mom read?” I was unable to let this thought only fester inside my head; it was one that needed to be shared—just to piss Steven off.

  “I don’t know. Why?” He swung the basement door open and bounded down the stairs.

  I licked my lips in an attempt to dim the shit-eating grin plastered on my face, because I knew what his reaction would be once the words left my mouth.

  “No reason. I was just wondering if they’re some sexy as hell erotic ones.”

  He paused on the last step and turned to face me. “What the hell, man? I don’t want to think about her readin’ that garbage.”

  “I bet she gets all hot and bothered sitting there reading how some guy is screwing someone hardcore,” I added, unable to leave well enough alone.

  “Shut the hell up.” He punched me in the arm and stepped down into his room.

  “Sorry, dude, but your mom is hot.” She was. Mrs. Stiles was smokin’ hot. Mr. Stiles was a lucky man.

  Steven shook his head. “Seriously, you need to shut the hell up.”

  I laughed, knowing even if I chose to continue, he would never do anything to stop me. He was all talk when it came to me, but only because I always was able to get whatever he wanted. I pulled the baggie of little blue pills from my pocket and chucked it at him.

  “Here, chill out,” I muttered.

  Steven caught it in midair and smiled. “Yes! I’ve been waiting weeks for this!”

  I glanced around his kick ass room while he dug in his pocket for the money. Without counting the wad he handed me, I stowed it in my back pocket and headed straight for his massive flat screen hung on the far wall. Plopping down in one of the beanbag chairs in front of it, I picked up the controller for his PS3 beside it and waited for him to pop one of the pills before he joined me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  EMORY

  Benson’s beach house was where the supposed party of the summer was held. I had been here once or twice before, but never for a party this massive. Glancing around at the wild people littering the sandy shoreline, which was technically the backyard, I didn’t think I had seen half of them before. They were probably random tourist kids Benson had seen scoping out the shops downtown while trying to avoid being seen with their parents on another summer family vacation.

  “You want something to drink?” Sam pressed a hand against my lower back, sending the butterflies flapping in my stomach into overdrive.

  A group of girls huddled together a few feet away noticed the action and began whispering. My lips twisted into a smile as the thought of their jealousy and envious words made pleasure lap away at my insides. I flipped my dark hair over my shoulder and touched Sam’s forearm to clear up any suspicions they might have had about the two of us being here together.

  “Sure.” I nodded. “Thanks.”

  It had been forever since I had drank anything besides coconut water. My mind seized up with a moment of panic, but I forced it away. Tonight was about having fun. It was about being seventeen and free. The new school year was just around the corner, and I hadn’t done crap all summer long because of my mother’s ridiculous schedule and gymnastics.

  “I’ll be right back with something.” Sam smiled. “They had beer and some fruity stuff in a bucket earlier, which do you prefer?”

  The fruity drink probably had more alcohol combined together, but chances were it would taste better than the beer.

  “I’ll take the fruity drink, whatever it is.” If I was lucky, the alcohol content would be crazy good and I would be tipsy after one glass, then I’d be able to give into the sensations he was causing to course through me without a second thought. “Thanks.”

  “Not a problem.”

  As soon as he walked away, Tara appeared at my side.

  “Aren’t you flipping ecstatic right now?” she gushed. “Sam Preston is crushing on you hardcore.”

  Her words brushed against the weird ego I had going from the moment of the three girls staring at me, inflating it a little more. I shifted to glance at her, my smile still in place. She was dressed in a white tank top that was seductively tight with a low-cut front and a free-flowing skirt that hit at her ankles. Her blond hair was done up in an elaborate braid that wrapped around her head, and her makeup was perfect. Tara always looked good, but tonight she seemed to be glowing. Standing beside her, I felt as though I looked grungy, frumpy, and fat. I should have done something with my hair. I should have left my skirt on to hide my thick legs. I shouldn’t have eaten that éclair while helping my mother set up her book club display of foods; I knew I would regret it the second it touched my lips. I’d gained a few pounds recently that I was not happy about.

  “I am, but I’m also nervous,” I admitted. It wasn’t a complete lie. I did find myself feeling slightly nervous around Sam because I wanted him to like me. Well, to continue to like me after tonight.

  Tara gripped my arm. “Nervous? Don’t be. He’s into you. He wouldn’t have asked if you were coming if he wasn’t.”

  “I don’t know. Not being nervous around him is easier said than done.” I glanced down at myself. “I mean, look at me. I look like crap tonight.”

  “What! No, you look cute,” she insisted, saying exactly what I needed to hear. It was sad how much her words seemed to reassure me.

  “Not standing next to you.” I wanted one more compliment from her to ease my self-consciousness. My eyes lifted, and for whatever reason, happened to land on Mallory Watts. My self-esteem took a nosedive at the sight of her. “Or compared to Mallory.”

  If Tara looked like some fresh-faced model cut straight from the pages of Seventeen magazine, Mallory looked like something straight out of Cosmopolitan. In a pair of short red shorts, a bohemian racer back tank top, and some strappy wedge sandals that laced up her perfectly tanned calves, there was no way all the guys here weren’t checking her out every chance they got. She had a body like Barbie at seventeen. Mallory had a good four inches in height on me, and curves I would most likely never acquire without the help of a plastic surgeon.

  “Don’t. If Sam wanted to be with her, then he would be. They broke up. Remember?” Tara snapped. “And he’s here for you. In fact, he’s coming this way with your drink right now.”

  I turned to where she was looking. Sure enough, Sam was strutting in my direction with a beer in one hand and a plastic cup in the other.

  “Talk to you in a bit. I’ve got to go find where Gary went.” Tara slinked away.

  I reached for her wrist. “We have so much to talk about later.”

  “I know!” she shrieked as she slipped from my grasp.

  “Here you go.” Sam handed me the red cup once he reached my side. “One glass of mystery fruity flavor.”

  The tips of my fingers brushed against his by accident as I took the cup from him, and a set of goose bumps prickled across my skin. “Thank you.”

  “Want to head down to the bonfire?” His hand darted out and brushed across my forearm. The contact was electric, sending tingles through
me. “You look cold.”

  “Sure.” I put my cup to my lips, hoping there was some form of courage laced within the fruity liquid. What I would give to have enough nerve to reach out and pull him in for a kiss right now.

  Once we made it to the fire, I took in the swarm of people standing around in no particular formation. They were all talking, laughing, and dancing. Music flowed on the rough breeze. I didn’t know the song, but that didn’t stop me from swaying my hips. I loved to dance. Something about the beat to a song always seemed to mesmerize me. There was freedom in music. It was the raw expression of one’s soul.

  Sam wrapped his hand around my waist, pulling me closer to him as he sipped his beer. The sensation made my heart race, but in a good way.

  He leaned into me, his lips practically pressed against my ear, and said in his smooth voice, “Watch out, these idiots are going to make the fire fall.”

  My eyes darted to the guys closest to the fire. I hadn’t noticed what they were doing when we walked up, but now that Sam had pointed it out, I could see how moronic they were being. Each of them had a log in their hands, and they were taking turns stacking it onto the fire as though it were some risky game of Jenga.

  I snuggled into Sam a little more, feeling the warmth of his concern for my well-being slip through me. “It’s going to fall for sure,” I agreed.

  “Well, my idea of bringing you to the fire so you wouldn’t be cold is sort of moot at this point. I’m not so sure standing as close as we are is such a good idea.” His hot breath slipped across my ear, and I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation. This was nice, more than nice; it was wonderful.

  “The goose bumps weren’t because I was cold, so we’re good actually,” I admitted.

  I had only had two sips of the drink in my hand, which wasn’t nearly enough to begin spouting off embarrassing stuff like that yet. My stomach tightened, and I raised my cup to my lips, hoping he hadn’t been counting like I had.

  “Is that so?” Sam spun me to face him. The hand that had been gripping my hip was now pressing against my lower back. Every inch of skin surrounding it tingled from his touch. “Is it something I do to you then?”

  Flashing him my best flirty smile, I held his stare. “Could be.”

  He licked his perfect lips and leaned in to me further. I watched as his gaze fell to my lips. Holding my breath, I waited for what I knew would happen next. My mind shifted, and I found myself wondering if anyone was watching this moment unfold between us. Where were the girls who had been whispering about me earlier? Elation radiated through my entire body as I thought these things. It intensified the moment I was eagerly anticipating.

  When Sam’s mouth crashed into mine, a slight groan rumbled from him, and every thought evaporated from my mind as I focused on him and the moment completely. I didn’t care who was watching or what those around us were thinking. This was pure bliss.

  Sam pulled away and smiled at me, licking his lips. “Mmm, fruity,” he whispered, just before bringing his mouth back to devour mine.

  I had imagined this precise moment more times than I could count, but to have it actually happen was something else. Sam’s tongue slipped along the seam of my lips, and I opened them to grant him access. I placed my free hand on his bicep and moved it upward across his shoulder until I could feel the tiny hairs along the back of his neck. Someone bumped me from behind just when Sam’s tongue found a rhythm that would have eventually brought me to my knees, forcing me to break contact or else topple over.

  Mallory stood behind me with her hands on her hips. She was smirking at us, but it wasn’t a friendly smirk. Confrontation wasn’t my thing, even though I appeared to handle it well. My heart jumped into my throat, but I put my game face on and held her stare nonetheless.

  “Looks like you’ve moved on,” she snapped at Sam. Her wild eyes shifted from him to me. “And you’ve lowered your standards to boot.”

  “Don’t, Mallory. You’ve obviously had too much to drink,” Sam insisted, his even tone surprising me.

  Mallory scoffed and flung her hair over her shoulder. “Whatever.”

  Not knowing what to say, I remained standing, sipping on the fruity concoction I clasped in my hand, while hoping I appeared unfazed by her presence to those standing around staring. This would be something talked about for weeks to come. I needed to make sure I was remembered as being calm and controlled.

  Mallory narrowed her eyes and gave me a once-over before she turned to stalk away. Her feet somehow managed to get tangled on one another. So instead of making the grand exit I knew she was planning, she lunged forward and would have fallen on her face if Sam hadn’t bolted from beside me to catch her.

  “Damn it,” he grumbled, but Mallory laughed hysterically. “I’ll be back. Let me find Sasha and have her take her home,” Sam called to me from over his shoulder.

  My heart dropped to my toes. He was ditching me for Mallory…in front of everyone.

  I plastered a sympathetic smile on my face in an instant, erasing the humiliation and jealousy he’d caused to rip through me. “Okay.”

  Once Sam walked away, dragging Mallory along with him, I felt myself deflate. Covering up my quivering lips by taking a sip from my drink, I glanced around, counting how many people were witnessing this little scene. Too many, that was what I concluded in seconds.

  My teeth ground together as I felt heat flush through my body from their eyes boring into me. The three girls from earlier caught my attention as they began snickering and whispering to one another, no doubt discussing how I had been cast aside so easily. My throat pinched from the threat of oncoming tears, and I turned to walk away, not knowing where I was going, but positive I couldn’t stand there any longer.

  My little stint with Sam Preston was over. He would find Mallory’s friend, Sasha, and then have to help Mallory get in the car. Knowing Sam, he wouldn’t leave it at that. He would opt to ride with them so he could make sure they made it to Mallory’s safely. Somewhere along the ride, Mallory and Sam would hook up. Our kiss by the fire would be forgotten, and all would be well. For them at least.

  This was how it always seemed to go lately. I had become the rebound chick, the girl every guy seemed to think was cute and fun, cool even. They would hang out with me a few times—sleep with me once or twice, if I let them get that far—and then toss me aside because their ex would come to her senses and want them back.

  Tara said I should think of it as a compliment. She said I was the type of girl other girls felt threatened by. They only wanted their man back when they saw him with me, because I was freaking awesome.

  I had yet to believe her theory.

  Mine went something along the lines of how I wasn’t good enough to keep them for myself. I was okay, but not good enough for them to stay and see where it would go. I had never had a lasting relationship. They always seemed to crash and burn after the two-week marker.

  I continued walking as I chugged what was left in my cup, not caring about how much alcohol was in it, how little I had eaten today, or the amount of calories hidden inside the liquid goodness. I wanted to be free. For one night, I wanted to not care about anything. Maybe that mind-numbing sensation rested at the bottom of cup number two, because after downing the first, I still seemed to care about all the things I wished I didn’t.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  COLE

  After leaving Steven’s house, I headed straight for Walmart so I could pick up a pair of actual headphones. The selection wasn’t the best, but I found a set that seemed as though they would work for my purpose. With nothing better to do, I headed back to my house to kill a few hours before I was supposed to meet Luke and some of the other guys at the park off West Main to skate.

  Rounding the corner of Hilton Street, I picked up speed like I always did, enjoying the rush of wind as it pressed against my face, but the second my house came into view, all the breath left my lungs. I coasted the rest of the way, allowing time for my mind to process
what I saw. Three police cruisers were parked in my driveway. The front door to my house was wide open, and I could hear my mother yelling profanities from inside.

  What the hell was going on?

  I popped the back end of my board, and gripped it tightly as I started toward the front door, bracing myself for whatever I might see.

  “There you are you little piece of shit!” Mom shouted. I had barely made it through the door, and she was already cursing me. “Tell these assholes what they found is yours! How dare you leave your stash in my fucking bedroom!”

  The floor dropped out from under me. The cops were here because of my stash? The K-9 unit walked past me without pausing to sniff me at all. Never in my life had I been so grateful to not have anything on me.

  “Tell them!” She continued to shout at me. Flecks of spit flew from her mouth, some of them landed on my right cheek as she continued to scream for me to come clean.

  “Calm down, Ms. Porter,” a female police officer insisted in an even tone.

  “Calm down? How the hell am I supposed to calm down when I’m about to be charged for this pissant’s stash?” Her index finger dug into my chest as she emphasized each word.

  “Ma’am, if you don’t calm yourself, I’m afraid we’ll have to detain you,” another officer interjected.

  This made my mother go ape-shit. In a matter of seconds, she was pinned on the couch and being handcuffed. An officer came down the stairs and walked past me carrying my Ziploc of random goodies as though it contained an infectious disease.

  “His room is clean,” officer germ-freak said to the female pinning my mother to the couch. “Hers had all this. Guess we can add this to her prostitution charges.”

  I blinked. Prostitution charges? I’d suspected—hell, I’d even joked about it—but I never knew for sure that was what my mother had been doing with all the assholes she brought home.

  “Son, why don’t you step outside with me for a minute while the other officers handle your mother,” the officer closest to me said. He gripped my shoulder as he escorted me out the door. I didn’t resist.