by Angel Lawson
Anxiety could be so conflicting and complicated.
“Can I ask you two something?” Oliver and Jackson are sitting with me one day at lunch. We were sitting in a tight cluster, alone for a minute. Hayden was in study hall and Anderson was buying a Coke out of the machine across the cafeteria. He’d slung his leather jacket on the chair across from us, holding his spot. Jackson had piles of food in front of him and I watched with fascination as he crammed four Oreos in his mouth at once.
“Sure?” He mumbled around all the chocolate.
Oliver nodded through a bite of sandwich.
“This,” I said, gesturing between us. “What exactly does this mean to you? I’ve kissed you both and Hayden. You all seem okay with it, well most of you, at least.” I glanced over my shoulder at Anderson, who was fighting with the machine. “Swallow before you answer, please.”
Jackson chewed for a minute, swallowed, and took a giant gulp of his drink. His Adam’s apple bobbed in response. I couldn’t decide if I should be disturbed or turned on by his behavior. His eyes darted quickly to Oliver’s but his following question was to me, “Do you really not know?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I really don’t. Is this something you’ve done before?”
“You know we don’t let people into the group, Heaven. You’re the first.”
I scoffed. “Don’t pretend like I’m your first. You know your first…”
Jackson reached over and takes my hand under the table. “You’re the first where it matters, babe.”
“But the sharing. Is it weird?”
“We’ve always shared everything, which is why we’ve never dated much. Girls got in the way of our friendship, but you…you’re the perfect fit,” Oliver explains.
My eyes flicked to Anderson, who was still in some sort of struggle with the soda machine. He was jabbing the buttons to no avail, running one hand through his hair, making it more and more feral with agitation. He was so pretty. “But what about…”
“He’ll come around. I told you that.”
“And Hayden?” They’d walked in on us after declaring their Ms. Pac-Man tournament a tie. Neither seemed phased by our red lips and flushed faces.
Now, they shared another look and laughed. Jackson shook his head and took another bite of cookie. “Don’t worry about Hayden. He’s all in. Honestly, this was all his idea.”
I frowned. “Really?”
“There was a universal attraction to you, Heaven, but nothing splits us apart. Nothing. So coming to an agreement was the only solution,” Jackson said.
“I’m telling you, we’re in this together. Despite one of us being a bit of a baby.” Oliver’s eyes darted over my shoulder and he popped one of Jackson’s cookies into his mouth. His big hand squeezed my knee under the table, sending a jolt of electricity up my leg.
When Anderson reached the table, he pulled his chair out with a loud scrape across the linoleum floor. He placed his bottle of Coke on the table and then a second one in front of me. “The machine gave me two.”
“Umm, thanks.”
“No big.” He took out his own lunch, dumping it out of his bag and on the table in the same fashion Jackson had. He fished out a sandwich and ate half of it in one bite. “We need to figure out when to meet for our project.”
Mr. Baker had announced a joint project due in two weeks during our last class. The kind of project that required meeting outside of school with your partner. There was definitely an awkward moment between the two of us during class when we realized we’d have to actually spend time together—alone.
“We can meet at my house,” I offered.
His eyes flashed around the table. “Maybe the library?”
"The library.”
He wasn't looking at me. His eyes were focused on opening a package of chips. "It's...easier."
Right. Because I was a skank who he didn’t want to be left alone with. I may sully his reputation. I’d probably jump him the minute he came to my house, even though I was involved with his best friends. Okay, maybe not the best use of mental sarcasm.
I tried to swallow my anger, but I knew my expression betrayed me. Jackson must have seen it, too, because his protective hand was on my back immediately. “I’ve got some studying to do also. We can meet Anderson at the library together.”
Anderson nodded and I agreed, but I felt sick. I thought we had made progress. I thought we were friends. He told me he didn’t think of me that way—like a whore—but he obviously didn’t trust me. Appropriately, his head was still down, refusing to meet my eye. He knew he was an ass. Jackson and Oliver knew it, too, and without offering an excuse, I gathered my things and left the table.
Chapter 13
Even with Anderson acting like a weirdo, I decided I wasn’t going to make a big deal about doing this assignment. I’d take the high road. Of course, this attitude was within reason, my reason, and I had definite plans to make him squirm.
My version of the high road included my signature outfits that, despite his protests, I knew he liked. Over the course of a week during our after-school library meetings, I managed to flash more of my legs, ass, and chest than anyone would possibly want to see. My methods were fair, though, because every day Jackson and Anderson arrived freshly showered, smelling like soap and whatever delicious-smelling cologne they slathered on their bodies that made me insane. Have you ever smelled a squeaky-clean boy? It was all I could do not to shove my face in both of their chests and huff the two of them in the middle of the public library.
So right. Fair play.
Each day, Jackson left for his own corner to ”study”. I was pretty sure he was just watching videos on his phone. I thought Anderson would relax with Jackson around to chaperone our study dates, but he didn’t. Our meetings were filled with a heightened tension. At first, I thought it was just his general dumbassery and hostile demeanor, but as the days progressed I realized it was something else. There was an internal struggle going on with him, and as much as he hated it, the reason became perfectly clear: Anderson Thompson wanted me.
This whole time I thought he hated me. I thought I repulsed him. I was totally fucking wrong.
I knew this because of the way he stared at me when I wasn’t looking. I knew because of the way he glanced at the ignorant figure of his best friend with guilt in his eyes. I knew because he came up with fake reasons to touch me, or get close to me, or move near me. I knew because every time he did one of these things he grimaced and frowned and refused to look at me for the next ten minutes—until he caved again. I knew, because if I learned one thing in this stupid game I was playing, it was that boys were weak at the sight of a nice set of tits and mine were spectacular.
What I didn’t know was how he wanted me. Did he think I was a cheap and easy conquest? Could he just not keep his eyes off my rack? I wanted to ask, but I was caught in such a complicated situation with three other guys—his three best friends—that I didn’t see an easy way out. So instead, I continued, pushing and pushing until one of us was forced to break.
*
Even though it was the weekend, we agreed to meet Sunday afternoon for the final review of our project. Jackson picked me up and I was barely in the car when I felt him surveying my outfit. I couldn’t blame him. I was wearing a low-cut, black, sheer shirt that—with the assistance of a push-up bra—left either too little to the imagination or too much. The lace edge of my bra was visible at the top of my shirt. Extra revealing. Extra effect. Make no mistake, after a week of playing cat and mouse, I was going for the kill. The entire outfit was inappropriate for the library, but I had a goal to make Anderson melt into a puddle when he saw me, and if Jackson’s response was any indication, this would be easy to accomplish.
“Why do I have the feeling you’re not wearing that for me?” he asked after I buckled my seat belt. I tried to ignore his blue eyes bulging out at my chest. His jaw dropped too.
I leaned over and kissed him, feeling the quick sweep of his tongue. Hi
s hand grazed the underside of my breast and I felt the shock of arousal throughout my entire body. He smiled lazily when we parted.
“It’s not that I didn’t wear it for you. I mean, not when you kiss me like that, but yeah, I’m still trying to get a rise out of Anderson.”
Jackson’s blonde eyebrows shot up. “Oh, trust me, he’ll get a rise alright. He probably already jerked off three times before leaving for the library just to get through it.”
“Jax!” I slapped him on the arm. I didn’t want to think about Anderson doing that…well, until I did think about him doing that and the image was a little more enticing than I thought. “You guys really do it that much?”
He stared at me and slowly nodded his head. “You have no idea. And with you walking around like that all the time? It’s increased ten-fold.”
“Ohmygod.”
My face burned like a bonfire but at the same time the information was flattering. These guys thought about me all the time. Even Anderson. Truth be told, I thought about them a lot more when I was alone too.
My cheeks burned hotter and I shifted in my seat, busying myself with searching in my bag for my project outline. When I looked up, he was staring at my boobs again.
“Jackson!”
“I’m serious, Heaven. Those things are lethal. You’re lethal.” He turned into the parking lot of the library and found a spot easily. “You’re gonna kill him, you know.”
I unlatched my seat belt and adjusted my shirt. We were acknowledging this. Good. “I know. He has it coming.”
“I don’t know...”
“He does. He thinks I’m trashy and obviously nothing will change his mind. I may as well make him sweat.” I was being petty. Stupid. I knew it, but at the same time, so was Anderson. He was either my friend or not, and this thing between me and the guys…well they were all in or it didn’t work. The judgments needed to go. “I don’t expect you to side with me over him, but his little game of hot and cold is growing thin.” I opened the door, stood up, and straightened my coat. I pointed to my chest. “This is payback.”
Jackson closed his door and slung his backpack over his shoulder. We walked together into the building, where the instant we were inside he said, “I’ll be over there,” pointing to a group of comfortable chairs. “Be gentle with him, okay?”
I rolled my eyes and looked around the massive room. Finally, I spotted Anderson, busily writing into our lab journal at a table on the opposite side of the building. Turning my attention away from Jackson and onto Anderson, I took in his tight, black t-shirt, and the way it strained against the wide expanse of his shoulders. I gathered my resolve and walked over.
“Hi,” I said, dropping my book bag and pulling out a chair across from him.
“Hey,” he said looking around. “Where’s Jackson?”
“Over there.” We both looked over at him sitting with his legs propped on a coffee table, feet tapping in rhythm to whatever music played on his iPod. I glanced back at Anderson, noting the obvious frown on his face when he realized he was left alone with me. Yep. I was so making him pay.
Anderson went back to his work, absently sliding the lab report over to me. “I completed the first three questions.”
“Great.” I unbuttoned my coat before turning to hang it on the back of my chair. “Do you want me to work on the next three?”
“I, um, yeah, um...” I heard his pencil drop on the tabletop.
I steeled myself. I had gotten pretty comfortable with revealing my body over the last several weeks, but the look on Anderson’s face was enough to make me second-guess myself. Had I actually gone too far? He was completely flummoxed. I leaned over. “Questions four through seven?”
“Um,” His eyes darted from my chest back to his paper. “Yes.”
“Okay,” I said, arranging my books and paperwork. I made an exaggerated effort to lean on one elbow. We worked quietly for a while, only talking when we needed something from one another. Anderson was blatantly avoiding eye contact and struggling to focus on his paper—that was, until I caught him, jaw slack and staring.
“Is something wrong?” I asked innocently, twirling a piece of hair around my finger. Maybe.
He blinked. “Um...I think you may have the wrong formula for number five.”
“Really?” I asked. Because I was certain I didn’t.
He snatched the paper and busied himself reviewing it. “Oh, no. I guess not.”
“Sure?”
He glanced over at Jackson, who was still ignoring us, like he could save Anderson from being a bumbling idiot. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Good,” I said. “I’ll be over in the reference section. I’m missing something for question seven.” I stood and adjusted my boot on the seat. He didn’t even try to not look. Anderson had reached a point of no return. He couldn’t keep his eyes off my chest or ass or anything else. Too bad for him that he thought he was too good for me.
I walked away, stealing a glance before I slipped around the corner of the bookshelves and saw him drop his head to the table, taking a few deep breaths. Sucker. If he was going to make me feel like shit, then I was happy to make him feel shittier.
Ten minutes later, I found the book I wanted. I had just pulled it from the shelf when I felt him behind me. Close behind me. I froze, trying to think of my next move. Should I get on my tip-toes and reach for a high book, exposing the skin around my waist? Should I pout and act confused—damsel in distress-y?
Before I could decide, he went on the attack.
“Why are you doing this? Dressing like this?”
“Why are you being such a dick?” I countered, feigning nonchalance. And then I felt it. His hand was on my hip and his chest was on my back. And it was just...whatthefuck?
“What are you doing?” I asked, pulling forward, only to feel his grip tighten.
“It’s not fair.” He said in a low voice. He sounded angry—no, distressed. “You doing this all the time and me...just resisting.”
I struggled and turned around. My face basically pressed against his chest, he was so close. When I looked up I could see a manic expression on his face. “What do you mean resisting?”
“I mean…” He looked around and his tongue darted out between his lips. “I just want...” And then he pushed my back against the hard shelf of books and kissed me. Hard. On the mouth. And because I’m a fool and have wanted him forever, I kissed him back, lacing my fingers through the short, soft hair on his neck. The kiss was desperate, needy, everything from weeks, months…no, years of pent up frustration. His hips slammed into mine and I held him there, feeling him—breathing hard, until the wave crashed and he slowed to a gentler pace. I felt his tongue touch against my own and it made my stomach burst into a million pieces. He tasted good and felt good and it was Anderson, the one just out of my reach.
When he stopped and pulled away, I kept my eyes closed because I wasn’t ready for it to be over. His forehead was pressed to mine and he spoke, weird and choked. “I’m sorry. That was...wrong.”
My eyes flew open and my fingers slid down his shoulders and clenched the front of his shirt. “No, it wasn’t.”
“I shouldn’t treat you like the others do.”
“The others?” I rambled, pushing closer. The look on his face said it all. “They said you were okay with it. You’d come around.” And his face dropped and too late, I slapped my hand over my mouth. It was the wrong thing to say. The worst thing to say.
“I can’t do this,” he said, pushing me away, leaving me breathing heavy in the stacks. I watched, horrified as he turned and walked down the aisle, hands balled into tight fists. His words hit like a load of bricks, because in his eyes told the truth. He wasn’t into this—into this thing we were doing. He wasn’t coming around and like always, I just made things worse.
A loud bang brought me out of the stacks and I saw Anderson running out the door. Jackson’s eyes met with mine and he shook his head, chasing after his friend. I wasn’t sure wh
at happened just now but every fiber in my body was convinced I’d screwed up good. Familiar dread built in my chest, leading the way for the rush of anxiety to race through my limbs, shooting into my heart. Sweat beaded on my forehead and I reached futilely for something nearby to steady myself. Something to prop me up.
There was nothing.
No one.
I’d scared them all away.
My fingers slipped, knocking over books, but I kept grabbing, searching for whatever I could to stay upright but the fear was too much. My heart hurt—it cracked with one final glance at the door and I fell, succumbing to the painful, inevitable dark.
Chapter 14
The lighting of the room was the first giveaway that I wasn’t in my own bed. The smell—antiseptic combined with bleach—was the second. I turned my head and found my mom asleep in the hard chair crammed in the tight space between the window and the bed.
I looked down and saw the gown with tiny blue dots and the monitor strapped to my wrist. How did I get here? What happened?
“Heaven?” my mom called, and I turned back to face her.
“Hey Mom.” I touched the monitor. “What happened?”
“You tell me, sweetie.” She’d hopped out of her seat and was leaning over my body, brushing my hair out of my eyes. “You were at the library and passed out. The doctors think it was another anxiety attack.”
It wasn’t the first major one I’d had. There were a few right after Dad left. The fear of never seeing him again and moving to a new school was just too much. I dropped into the darkness of cutting. But that was a long time ago. I was better.
I glanced around the room, the sure sign that I was not better.
“I just got overwhelmed.” I remembered Anderson leaving—storming out of the library with Jackson hot on his heels. Of course, Jackson picked Anderson. And of course, Anderson wasn’t into this whole thing. Who would be? Dating four guys wasn’t possible even if we were a perfect match. It was disgusting. Gross. Deviant.
