My notebook was once again hidden under my mattress; I slid it out and opened it. The second page revealed which initiate was scheduled for a task on each given day.
Monday – Zena
Tuesday – Zena and Patrick
Wednesday – Becky, Zena, Patrick
I turned the page and read over the detailed outline that laid out what I’d planned for each of them to do for the first three days of Hell week, the ones I’d already updated on the website. After thinking for a few minutes, I wrote out the tasks for the rest of the days, all the way through the weekend. I added notes in careful script:
Thursday – Becky
Friday – Patrick and Becky
Saturday – Becky and Patrick
Sunday – Zena
Zena shouldn’t have any problems with her task on day one. She certainly had what it took to complete her role looks-wise, and her attraction to Blane should make it one she’d actually enjoy on top of it.
Tuesday’s tasks were a little trickier. It was a two-man job, although neither Zena nor Patrick would know what the other was up to. Still pretty foolproof.
I grinned in anticipation. Oh, would that one make Jessica freak out. It was so beautiful in its underhandedness, I almost wanted to frame my words. I carefully reviewed the plan one last time, knowing I couldn’t leave room for error. A delicious shiver ran through me just thinking of Jessica’s response when it all went down.
My phone beeped late that night, almost eleven. I couldn’t sleep, so I heard it right away. It was probably Ransom, texting his address like he’d promised.
I reached out and checked the screen. Not Ransom after all. Instead, Jeremy’s photo beamed up at me from my phone. Unexpected guilt tickled when I saw his face after I’d been expecting to hear from Ransom. I bit my lip and swiped to read his text.
Hey.
I rolled over onto my side and answered him, Hey you. What’s up?
I’m sorry about acting like a jerk earlier.
I typed back, It’s okay. You didn’t really anyway.
My guilt intensified reading his words after spending the afternoon with Ransom. I tried to tell myself I had no reason to feel bad, that there was nothing going on between Jeremy and me. It’s not like Jeremy had ever asked me out or anything.
My phone dinged again. So, you okay?
I’m fine, why?
It took longer for his response to come through this time. I don’t know. I saw you leave with that guy and just wanted to make sure everything was okay.
So that’s why he’d messaged me. He wanted to find out more about Ransom. I wasn’t getting into that discussion; it seemed rude to talk about another guy with him.
Everything’s good, but thanks. Right after I pressed send, I typed another message. I’m tired. See you in school tomorrow?
I wasn’t really sleepy, but for some reason, it felt like an iron fist was squeezing my stomach tight, and I didn’t know what to say to him.
Okay. I’ll see you then. Good night, Sam.
Good night.
I punched my pillows a few times and attempted to get comfortable. I tried to soothe myself with thoughts of the plan, but dregs of remorse floated up and kept interrupting me. This wasn’t the person I’d aspired to be years ago…someone who plotted and planned to bring another person down.
The niggling thought that doing the whole thing made me as bad as Jessica kept tiptoeing in. Maybe Jeremy was right. Did wanting to get even with Jessica for the years of bullying make me an awful person? Worries slithered through my brain like poisonous snakes. No wonder Satan preferred the form—they were evil and hard to keep at bay.
Fifteen
They say curiosity killed the cat. Probably for a damn good reason.
—Samantha Evans
The homes around me all looked like they could use a fresh coat of paint. Or a wrecking ball. I hadn’t been to this section of town in years. It was more the fringes of town, like the ratty tufts of material at the end of a scarf that people usually plucked off.
I slowed my pace and glanced around. Some of the buildings didn’t have numbers, so I hoped I could find Ransom’s place. From the looks of it, most of the houses on the street had been long since sectioned off into apartments.
A sharp gust of wind blew, and I shoved my hands in the pockets of my down vest. I’d thrown it on over my sweater since the thermometer hanging outside read forty-two degrees, and I hadn’t wanted to freeze on my walk.
Walking sucked. So did depending on other people to get me where I needed to go. It wasn’t like I could ask Jeremy to drive me to Ransom’s apartment. Slightly awkward.
Anyway, Jeremy and I hadn’t talked Friday in school after all.
He’d texted me in the morning to let me know he was home sick but told me to have a good day. And he’d sent a smiley face. Hopefully that meant he was over being angry with me for what was about to go down next week.
Another glance and I decided it looked like the right place. I stood in front of a tan duplex. The numbers were missing on the one side, but the left side read 314. Ransom’s text said he lived in 316-B, so I assumed he was on the right half.
No one else was out on the street. No kids played, although there weren’t really any front yards to play in anyway. Some kind of mechanical, whining noise carried from somewhere nearby. A leaf blower maybe? But there were no trees in sight to even scatter leaves.
I tightened my fists in my pockets and took a deep breath for courage. It’s not like I had anything to be scared of, I’d spent plenty of time with him before; he wasn’t a stranger anymore. But I wasn’t naive. I was going to his house. Alone.
Still stalling, I pulled out a ChapStick and ran some cherry balm over my lips. I tossed my hair back and walked up the wooden steps. He’d said to go in and up the stairs to his door.
I hesitantly pushed the front door open and quietly called out, “Hello?” No answer.
A narrow foyer led to another door to my immediate right. A flight of carpeted stairs in front of me rose to what I assumed was Ransom’s apartment. I stepped inside the landing. It smelled like burnt food and must. I twitched my nose but kept going.
The railing was smooth from years of use. I tried not to make any excess noise as I climbed the stairs, although I had no idea why I felt the need to walk so quietly. When I got closer to the top, music carried through a closed door off to the right—some classic rock song that I recognized, but couldn’t name.
Before I could chicken out, I knocked on the door. Three quick raps. I unzipped my coat, then rezipped it while I waited for him to answer. Except he didn’t. Right when I’d decided to leave, the door swung open.
Ransom stood before me, sexy as sin in a white T-shirt and a pair of dark-washed, low riding jeans. No boots this time. No shoes at all, in fact. He was barefoot.
I swallowed.
“Hey! I wasn’t sure if I heard a knock. I thought maybe you changed your mind and weren’t coming.” He smiled, and his eyes lit up. He motioned me inside.
I stepped forward, smiling back nervously. He looked good. Too good. And I was in his apartment, alone, with him.
“Um…sorry. It took me longer to walk here than I expected. I don’t have my license yet, but I’m getting it soon.” I was babbling but couldn’t quite help the rush of words.
He shut the door behind us. “No problem.”
We were in his living room. Somehow the smallish space seemed even smaller with him standing so close. I could practically feel the heat from his body next to me.
A fish flopped in my stomach as I looked around. A sofa faced a large flat screen television. The TV seemed out of place with the rest of the furniture. The only other pieces were a low coffee table and a dinged up end table. There were no pictures on the walls.
“Well, come on in and sit down. Do you want something to drink?”
I noticed a bottle of beer on the table next to the sofa. “Uh, sure, thanks.” I wandered over and perched on th
e edge of the worn out couch.
He returned from the adjoining kitchen a minute later with a can of soda and a beer. “I didn’t know what you’d want.” He set them both on the table in front of me and sat down next to me.
I didn’t want to look like a child, so I said, “Beer’s fine, thanks.”
He grinned and reached over to twist the top off the bottle then handed it to me before leaning back. “I feel bad that you walked all this way. I would have gladly picked you up.”
He picked up his own beer. His long fingers curled around the dark bottle. “So, did you have any problems finding the place?”
I shook my head and took a sip. I rarely drank, didn’t really like the taste of beer, but I managed a smile after I swallowed. Being so close to him was wreaking havoc on my nerves. I wanted him to move closer, I wanted him to stay where he was. I took another drink, bigger this time.
“You look great. I like your hair down like that.”
A blush skittered up my neck and filled my cheeks. “Thanks.”
“Do you want to take your coat off? It’s pretty warm in here.”
“Oh, um…sure.” I set my drink down and slipped my arms out of the vest, then wondered what to do with it.
“Here.” He took it from me and tossed it over the arm of the sofa. His fingers were warm when they grazed mine during the exchange.
He offered an understanding smile. “Sam, I can tell you’re nervous, but you don’t have to be.” He gave a small shrug. “Look, we can do whatever you want. Movie? Food? Talk? Charades?” He smiled wider this time.
He had tiny dimples I hadn’t noticed before. I relaxed a little.
“Food sounds good. I’m starving,” I said. I immediately wondered if I was supposed to admit that to him, or pretend like other girls I knew that I never ate. And if I did, it was only things like kale or cucumbers. I decided if I was going to do this, try to hang out with him, he might as well know I had a healthy appetite, one that didn’t involve only eating rabbit food.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. While he placed the order for a large pizza, I tucked my legs beneath me and glanced around some more, sipping my beer. The taste didn’t seem as horrible now after a few large swallows.
After he finished the call, he set the phone down and looked at me. “So, tell me more about you.”
“What do you want to know?” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.
“Anything. Everything.”
I laughed and curled my toes inside my shoes. “I’m not all that exciting.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be exciting. I just want to know you better.” He twisted to face me, and leaned forward a little. “Tell me whatever you want to.”
So I did. Somehow, amidst a second beer, I found myself telling him about how I came to live with my aunt and about all the crap at school. The fact that I felt free to share that much with him surprised me. But he was a great listener. It felt good. I relaxed a little more into the sofa.
A knock sounded on the door.
Ransom jumped up. “Must be the pizza. Hang on.”
He paid the driver and carried a large box back into the room.
“C’mon, let’s eat.” He motioned me to the floor, where he’d set the box and some napkins he’d grabbed from the kitchen.
I slid from the couch to join him. It smelled great. After talking for so long, my nerves finally settled enough that I could take a large bite.
“Mmm…this is really good.” I spoke through a mouthful of tangy sauce and melted cheese.
“I know. They make the best pizza in the neighborhood. I usually order from them at least twice a week.”
He licked some sauce from his lips, and I tried not to stare.
“So, you were telling me about this Jessica girl.”
Somehow, I had the feeling that Ransom wouldn’t judge me, that he’d understand what I was doing.
“I came up with this plan,” I began.
He arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Sounds devious.”
“Oh, it is.” I gave a fake evil laugh, and he laughed with me.
I told him everything about my strategy to get back at Jessica. And he told me I was brilliant.
“I know, right?” I beamed. By now the pizza box sat empty between us on the floor. “I mean, it’s so perfect!”
He nodded. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“Oh I will!” I winked. It felt good to joke and tease with him, to know someone else got it.
He even offered some suggestions that I could do during Hell week with the initiates. Being able to share the whole thing with someone, someone who understood what I was doing, and why I was doing it, was like a weight lifted off my shoulders.
I suddenly became aware that Ransom had stilled and was staring at me, at my mouth, staring in a way that screamed, I want to kiss you right now, this second. My heart raced, and my breathing quickened. He still didn’t move toward me, and I wondered briefly if I had the guts to lean in and kiss him.
His eyes rose to meet mine. As I gazed at him, completely unable to move, I noticed his jaw twitched the tiniest bit, and I heard him swallow.
His eyes moved closer and closer to mine. It was like everything was moving in slow motion. Like we were swimming underwater toward each other—all speckles of light and movement and lungs tightening in need of air.
I wasn’t even sure I was still breathing until the second he was a fraction of an inch away, and I felt myself gasp.
Then his eyes closed, lashes fanning against his bronzed skin. I must have done the same because the next thing I knew fireworks exploded through me as his lips moved on mine.
His kiss started soft, for just the briefest seconds, but quickly turned hungry. My mouth seemed to know what to do because it opened and welcomed him in. His hands were in my hair, on my cheeks, my neck. I wanted to taste him over and over. Sparks raced through my body and pooled in my stomach. Every place he touched electrified me.
I wanted more, more of him, more of the sensation. I learned what it felt like to run my fingers through his thick hair. It was even better than my fantasies. Somewhere I heard deep moans and didn’t know if they came from my throat or his. But it didn’t matter. We fell back on the floor, side by side, never coming up for air.
His hand moved down from my head to my lower back, pulling me tighter against him. I’d never imagined…couldn’t have imagined…what it would feel like to be so desired. So wanted. I reveled in the sensation. Someone wanted me that fiercely. The knowledge emboldened me, made me feel powerful for the first time in my life.
He breathed my name against my neck as his lips trailed a path down my collarbone. My head tilted back. I couldn’t think, I just felt. His rough palm grazed my hip, fingers splayed under the hem of my thin sweater.
It became harder to concentrate on enjoying his kisses when his hand moved across my rib cage. Although it felt amazing, I’d never done anything like this with a guy and nerves were getting the better of me. I tried to relax and just let it happen.
“God, you feel so good.” His mouth moved from my lips down my neck again. His lips slid down the V of my sweater, and he pushed one side away with his mouth, his tongue flicking patterns as he went.
“Ransom, wait, stop.” I pushed against him to sit up, pulling my sweater back into place. Unexpectedly, tears threatened.
He sat up, hair mussed, and licked the edge of his bottom lip. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry…if I lead you on.” I pushed my hair out of my face with a shaking hand. “But I’m not ready for this.”
He didn’t say anything for about five seconds; he just sucked air in slowly and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up more. His knee bent in front of him, his other leg still tangled against mine.
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing. I pushed too far, too fast. I’m sorry.”
Relief washed through me
that I wasn’t going to have to make some awkward escape, or worse, have to try to fight him off if he didn’t take no for an answer.
My eyes must have shown him what I was thinking, because he sighed and reached for my hand. “Did you really think I was going to try to make you do something you didn’t want to do?”
When I didn’t answer, he pulled his hand away. “Jesus, Sam, what do you take me for? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone as far as I did, I should have stopped sooner.” He drew in a long slow breath and looked down. “I like you, and it felt good. But that’s no excuse.”
I reached out and took his hand. “I like you too.” I took a deep breath. “And it felt good to me too.”
He looked up.
“But.” I shrugged. “This is all I can offer right now. I’m not ready for…”
“Sex,” he said bluntly.
“Anything more than this.”
His dimples peeked out. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not kind of disappointed.” When my eyes widened, he hurried on. “Hey, I’m a guy. But,” he stressed, “I’m not going to push anything either. I told you, I like you, and I meant it.”
I weaved my fingers through his, a warm glow building inside. He liked me.
He bit his full lower lip. “I don’t want to ruin the one possible good thing I have going in my life right now.” He leaned in to kiss me.
But I wasn’t ready to pick up where we’d left off, so I pulled away.
He sighed. “Maybe we should get you back home.” When I looked at him, he quickly added, “Next time, I’ll take you out somewhere on a real date. If I didn’t already blow it that is.”
“You didn’t blow it,” I said softly.
“Good.” He smiled.
He helped me up, and I walked over to grab my coat.
“Why don’t you let me give you a ride?” he asked. “It’s getting cold out. You’re going to freeze walking all the way home.”
I laughed. “I’m pretty sure it’s just as cold on your motorcycle.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “I meant in my car.”
“You have a car?” My eyes widened.
The Society Page 10
