A God in Carver (Carver High #1)

by Haven Francis

  “Dare,” he says without hesitation.

  “Pussy,” I tell him. “Okay…” I think for a moment. I consider making him drop his pants in front of us because maybe he’s got a small package, or slamming twelve ounces of my mom’s vodka because I’ve never see him drunk but then I know what I want him to do. “I dare you to kiss Presley. For a full minute. With tongue.” I’ve never seen him with a girl. I know he’s got a huge crush on Summer but I also know that there is something between him and Presley and that he’s too big of a pussy to act on it.

  “I have a boyfriend,” she mutters. I would respect that fact but I don’t think Presley is ever going home and it would be helpful for her to move on. I also know she has a crush on Angel.

  “We won’t tell,” I promise her. “Plus, I’m pretty sure Angel is too big of a pussy to actually do it.”

  She smiles and cocks her head at him, daring him just like I am.

  “What kind of dare is that? I get to kiss a hot girl? I thought you were more malicious than that,” he says, surprising me with his confidence. He reaches out and grabs a hold of Presley’s hands, pulling her off the couch and onto his lap. “You suck at this game, Tatum,” he tells me before grabbing a hold of Presley’s head and slowly leading her mouth to his. I hear an audible hitch in her breath and I can’t help but smirk – maybe he’s not a pussy after all. When the silence is the room is filled by the quiet smacking of their lips and her hand willingly grasps onto his back and I can literally hear the spit being swapped, I stand and head to the kitchen.

  I glance at the clock on the wall thinking the game will be over soon. I grab my phone out of my purse, turn it off and shove it in the silverware drawer determined to let Brandon do his thing and not think of him for the rest of the night.

  I stand around the kitchen for so long I’m afraid to go back out in the living room thinking there’s a chance that I will see Angel naked, but eventually he calls out, “Tatum, get your ass out here. I’m up.”

  I smile at Presley’s flushed cheeks and her red lips which she’s running a finger over. Angel gives me a cocky smile. “Tatum, truth or dare.”

  “Truth,” I tell him, knowing his dares will be vicious and counting on the fact that I really don’t have any secrets.

  He stares at me, his mind no doubt spinning, trying to come up with something. I stare back at him knowing there’s nothing he can ask me that will make me flinch. “When was the first time you kissed Brandon?” My eyes unintentionally snap to the hallway wall where he kissed me while he was still with Summer and I panic. But technically it’s not the first time I kissed him. He made a move on me once when we were six, getting his lips on mine before I punched him in the gut. But before I can answer, Angel adds, “In the last year.”

  I pause for too long because Presley adds, “We won’t tell anyone.”

  I chew on my bottom lip knowing I could easily lie but not really wanting to. I haven’t told anyone about that night. Not even my mom or sister. “Last Friday… the day I published the profile on him. The night they lost their game. The night before he and Summer broke up.”

  “I knew it,” Presley says. “I was at that banquet the next day, you know. I swear to God, you could feel the connection between the two of you when you got up on that stage. And that interview you played… talk about sexual tension.”

  “When are you two gonna stop avoiding each other at school? I mean, it’s not like we don’t all know what’s going on.”

  “What does that mean, you all know what’s going on?”

  “The entire school talks about it. I know you’re busy avoiding people in general, but even you must have caught wind of the rumors,” Angel tells me.

  “What rumors? What the hell are people saying?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Kind of.”

  “They think Brandon’s lost his shit. Everyone knows he’s staying here and that he rescinded his verbal with Penn State. They think you’re his rebound and vice versa and that Brandon’s only with you to piss Nash off. Some people think it’s messed up that he would want to be with you after that article your wrote. They think he’s rebelling – going from the good girl to the bad one.”

  “Jesus, Angel, a little editing would be okay once in a while,” I tell him through my mild shock. I’m definitely the villain.

  “That was the edited version.”

  I roll my eyes. “They’re probably all right. I’m pretty sure whatever is happening… or happened, I guess… was just a fling that’s now over.”

  “What?” Presley sounds like she’s wounded. “After everything you guys have gone through, after all the crap you two have been dealing with, you’re letting him go already?”

  “What did you expect? He’s not staying in this town. I’m never getting out of here. I mean, that night that he came here we hated each other, he came here to ream my ass, those are the circumstances in which our first kiss occurred. What’s the point of even trying?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Angel,” Presley scolds.

  “What? It’s true. I don’t get the whole high school romance thing. You,” he says, staring at Presley, “Haven’t had any fun since you came to this town because you’re holding out for some kid a thousand miles away like you’re married to him when the reality is that even if you were still in that town you wouldn’t end up spending your life with him. Why the hell would you tie yourself down to anyone? Have your fun with Brandon,” he says, turning his eyes to me. “And stop taking everything so seriously. No one finds their partner in high school. Yet all you people act like your relationships are life or death matters. You should not be expending so much of your energy on a relationship. Not now. It’s pointless. A complete waste of time.”

  “Wow. You are such an asshole.”

  I’m thinking about how I found my perfect guy when I was four. The guy I wish was going to be mine for the rest of my life. But I know that if I say that I’ll just look weak and stupid so instead I say, “But he’s right, Presley. You know he is.”

  “I know plenty of people who married their high school sweethearts.”

  “And I bet that a hundred percent of them are divorced or miserable. People change. People want to change and grow and no one can do that when they are the perpetual girlfriend of their high school sweetheart.”

  “So you’ve never had a girlfriend?” she asks him.

  “Nope. I just sit back and watch all you miserable, misguided people waste your life while I’m actually making something out of mine.”

  “So you’re a virgin?” I ask him and I can’t hold back my laughter.

  “Did I say that? No, I’m not a virgin. You can enjoy all the benefits of being a hormone filled teenager without carrying the burden of a relationship.”

  “God, I thought you were better than that,” Presley says sounding disgusted. “You’re just like all those other assholes who hit it and quit it.”

  “There are girls who share my same beliefs. Not all of us are holding out for our life mates. What about you, did you give your virginity to your man back home?”

  I look at Presley and I can see the crimson creeping up her neck. She clears her throat and tells us she has to use the bathroom.

  When she’s out of sight I tell him, “Way to go, asshole.”

  “Is she a virgin?”

  “Um… I’m gonna take a guess and say yes.”

  “Damn. That kiss she gave me was good. I mean, I was thinking about going there with her but that’s out of the question.”

  “You don’t have sex with virgins?”

  “I tried it once. With females there’s something about their first partner that they can’t get over. I think it must be a guilt thing. Like they have to have a relationship with the guy they lost their virginity to or else they’ll be a slut.”

  “Hmm,” I mutter.

  “If things don’t work out with you and Brandon you might be a good candidate. You have experience i
n the sex with no attachment category, right?”

  “For a second I thought you actually had a disturbingly clear view of the female species,” I laugh. “But clearly you’re delusional on all accounts.”

  Presley comes out of the bathroom and an awkward silence ensues. When the front door opens and Brandon is standing there I’m actually relieved because of the distraction and also because ever since him being mine became an option I can’t look at him without a sense of serenity running through my body. I can’t look at his dark, wet hair; his intense eyes; his strong, determined jaw; his tall, athletic body in his worn jeans and long sleeved black Henley and not want to be near him. It takes me a few moments to pull myself together.

  He takes us all in before walking into the room. “Hey,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

  “The only people I want to talk to are here with me. Why would I need my phone?”

  Angel and Presley, as nonchalant as they can, get up and leave the room.

  He walks to me, hovering over me. “I don’t want to do this with you, Tatum,” he tells me and there is an immediate sinking feeling in my gut. “I don’t want to be careful or safe. I’m tired of holding back. I’m tired of not being able to touch you. I’m tired of telling people there is nothing going on between us when you are the only thing I can think about. I’m sick of trying to plan my future around colleges and football when what I really want to do is plan it with you. This is not an infatuation. This is not a new relationship where we have no idea where it’s going. This is finally us. I just want us to start.” He sits down on the ottoman in front of me and puts his hands on my thighs, leaning in so close that I can smell his soap and feel the adrenaline coming off of him.

  I literally feel intoxicated by his words and his presence and I’m having a hard time forming thoughts. He takes advantage of my momentary incapacitation, dropping to his knees, grabbing my waist and pulling me to him; his body set firmly between my throbbing thighs. I can hear my agitated breaths and I’m annoyed that he has so much control over my body when I’m near him. My breaths only heighten as he grasps onto the base of my neck and pulls my face to his. “I love you, Tatum. I want to be able to love you. I want everyone to know that I love you. I’m done worrying about everyone else’s happiness. The only person I want to worry about is you.” His words are quiet but forceful and when he traps my lips in his a warm sensation of ecstasy covers me and I hear myself gasping.

  I can feel something breaking free in Brandon as his body fit’s itself to mine; his hard, warm muscles pressing me into the couch. His kiss turns deep and intense and the sounds escaping his throat are tortured. I feel myself losing control; my fingers dig into his skin, my hands fist his hair, my mouth gladly accepts the depth of his kiss.

  And in the midst of this feral act my mind clears. I can feel it being erased; my doubts, my fears, every bit of my rationality being wiped away.

  When he pulls away from me I’m not ready to let him go. I cling to him, following his body, going back again and again for one last kiss. When I finally stop I look into his determined eyes and I feel it. I feel the confidence. I feel the surety of us. “Can we stop all this bullshit?” he whispers. “Can we forget about everything else and finally, for the first time, just be us.”

  My body is buzzing. His arms wrapped around me, his warmth covering me make me believe that he is my happiness. My body fills with excitement at the idea of finally, for the first time in my life, being with him. Having him be my partner. Receiving all of the things that he has wanted to give me and showing him exactly how much I love him. I can’t control the smile that creeps onto my face. I can’t stop myself from grasping on hard to his beautiful face. “Yes,” I tell him, my entire body lighting up with the word.

  His responding smile is exhilarated. In one swift motion he is standing and has me off the couch, wrapped around his hips and his neck. His head falls back and he releases a call of excitement into the air before taking my mouth in his again.

  “What the hell is going on out here?” I manage to hear Angel ask.

  Brandon pulls out of my mouth but his eyes never leave mine. “I think Tatum just became my girl?” His tentative smile and his pleading eyes are adorable.

  “Yeah, she did,” I agree giving him one last peck on his lips before shimmying out of his hold.

  “Yay!” Presley says excitedly. “We should celebrate.”

  “We should definitely celebrate,” Brandon says. “What do you say? You want to go to the bonfire?”

  I cock an eyebrow at him.

  “I want the world to know that you’re mine and I’m yours,” he whispers.

  As scary as that thought is, it’s also exciting. The thought of moving out of the state of limbo we’ve been in, the idea of being held by him in public, the notion of making it official is exciting. “Okay,” I agree and his returning smile decimates my few lingering worries.

  The four of us pile into Brandon’s Mustang and I can feel the excitement in the air. Angel seems to feel it too because I hear him saying to Presley in the backseat, “I say you forget about your boy back home and be my girl tonight.”

  “Your girl?” she mockingly laughs. “If you’re asking me to be your sexual partner for the evening you’ve lost your mind.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking but I might have lost my mind. I was thinking more like holding hands, sitting on my lap, kissing me with those lips of yours again, living the whole girlfriend boyfriend fantasy just for the night.”

  She says nothing but her face must have given him an answer because I hear him kiss her.

  “This is our night, assholes, you guys don’t get to steal our thunder,” Brandon says jokingly. He takes his eyes off the road for a moment and smiles at me. I realize then that I haven’t taken my eyes off him since we got in the car. Jesus, I am seriously in trouble. I am absolutely in love with Brandon Eastman.

  When we get to the field, Brandon wraps his arm around me protectively and walks me down the path that leads to the party. Angel and Presley are waiting on the path for us, their hands sweetly entwined. As the four of us approach the fire I feel calm surrounded by the three of them.

  We wade through the semi-darkness and people call to Brandon but he never removes his arm from me. He never even raises a hand in acknowledgement. He just walks, without hesitation, into the fray of cheerleaders and football players who are gathered around the huge fire. My eyes are darting from face to face in dreadful anticipation of having to see Summer’s reaction. But they stop as they lock with Nash’s. Brandon has walked me right up to him and I feel myself stiffen under his arm.

  “Well isn’t this sweet?” Nash drawls, his eyes leaving mine to look at our small group. When they return to mine he says, darker now, “You’ve become one of them, huh? A boring-ass, cookie cutter asshole.” Brandon’s hold on me tightens but he manages to keep his thoughts to himself.

  I stare at Nash’s eyes. The eyes I have been staring at for so many years. He’s good at hiding his emotions but his eyes always give him away. He’s hurt. Seeing me with Brandon hurts. Of course it does.

  I take my eyes away from him to look at Brandon. “Can I have a minute?” I whisper.

  His face tenses and his hold on me tightens, but then he releases me and turns to his friends.

  I take a step towards Nash and look him in the eyes. “I get it Nash, that this hurts. As much as part of me hates you for everything you’ve done to me, it kills me to see you hurt.”

  “Please, Tatum. You think I really give a shit that you’re with him?”

  I cock my head at him. “Yeah, Nash. I do. You would have to be one emotionless prick to not care. And as good as you are at acting like that guy I know it’s not who you really are.”

  He forces a laugh. “You think because you’ve known me for so long that you understand me, right? That you get me.”

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what I think. I’m just glad that
you are the one who lied to me and cheated on me and pretended for so long to be someone you weren’t. Because I can walk away from what we had. It hurts like hell to know that the guy that I loved for so long, that I gave so much of myself to, never loved me enough to do the right thing but at least I can walk away from what we had without looking back. I feel sorry for you because I know you still love me. You can sleep with as many girls as you want, you can treat me like shit and claim I never meant anything to you, but I know you. And I know that you love me. I don’t want you to hurt, Nash, but I’m glad that, for once, it’s you and not me. I just hope you figured some shit out after all of this. I just hope that one day you can take some responsibility for yourself and for your actions and that you can change.”

  “That’s a real mature thing for you to say, Tatum, but we both know you have that wrong. I wasn’t the one who was lying and pretending. You played the bad, rebel girl with me for a while, you had your fun while you could. But we both know that what you really wanted was the vanilla life all along. You were never the girl you pretended to be with me.”

  “I was that girl, Nash. I was exactly who you wanted me to be. You did everything you could to turn me into an emotionless, dependent, lonely, bitter girl and I was her for a long time.”

  His eyes drift away from mine for a moment and when they return they are menacing. “I’m not as stupid as people think I am, huh? I knew that just being me would never be good enough to compete with Brandon Eastman.” He pours the remains of the liquid in his solo cup down his throat then throws it on the ground telling me, “It was fun while it lasted,” before turning and walking away.

  I shake my head at myself. It was stupid of me to think that I could find closure with him. That we could come out of this without hating each other.

  When I feel Brandon’s strong warm arms wrap around me from behind, I instantly feel better. I turn in his arms and wrap myself around his body. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know why I keep thinking that one of these days he’s gonna grow up or that I’m gonna be able to get through to him. It’s never gonna happen.”