Chapter 17
No Big Deal
I immediately stepped back from her, breaking all of our contact. She startled as she looked back at me and I threw on a tight smile. She frowned as she tilted her head. Great. I didn't know how to explain that she was turning me on without embarrassing us both, and possibly doing that misleading thing that I was so good at. I mentally cursed my stupid, hormone driven body and wished that, just for one night, I could shut off that part of me. Sometimes being a seventeen year old guy was a pain in the ass.
Not knowing what else to do, I extended my hand out to her and nodded my head to the dance floor. It was packed, but the song was fast, so we wouldn't actually have to touch each other too much. And right now, at least until I could calm down a little bit, I needed space.
Her face brightened as she nodded her head, her loose curls bouncing along her shoulders. She reached over for my hand and my eyes drifted down to the v-neck of her dress. It plunged deeper than anything I'd seen her wear before and the top of her cleavage showed. There was more than I'd imagined on her, and my already buzzing body replayed the memory of my fingers running over those breasts, feeling the soft firmness as I cupped them through her bra, feeling the rigidness of her nipples as my thumbs passed over the peaks. . .
Oh good, god!
I closed my eyes for a second, breaking my inappropriate focus and pulled her out to the dance floor. We'd be more exposed to gossipers out here, but at the moment I'd rather have that kind of exposure than the kind my body was starting to make. I could hide in the light splotched crowd until my blood flow returned to normal.
The driving beat engulfed us, as surely as the driving bodies surrounded us, as we parted the sea and moved to a central location in the pack. I caught a few heads turning and whispering to others around them as we passed, but I ignored it. I let go of Sawyer's hand as we found a place with a little room to move.
I wasn't really a dancer, but what guy in high school is? The others around me were doing the 'yeah, I'm only out here to please my girlfriend in the hopes of getting lucky later' dance, so I copied them. Sawyer however. . . could move. I found my eyes drifting over that body as she frolicked around to the upbeat song. She sang along and moved her hands through her hair, dislodging a few long pieces, which only made it look even better. A slight flush crept into her cheeks as the heat of the crowd and that long-sleeved dress started to get to her. She was intoxicating to watch.
I realized this wasn't helping my situation at all and shifted to look out over the crowd. I noticed sets of eyes staring at me, but many more sets were staring at Sawyer. Most of those sets were guys, and most of those had a glint in them as they watched her body move. A sudden surge of possessiveness washed over me, which actually startled me with an icy wash of astonishment. Was I possessive of her? She wasn't mine, by any stretch. . . but, I didn't want her to get hurt. And as I glared back at a few male eyes, all I saw were jerks and assholes who'd stomp on her heart if given the chance. Hell if I was going to give them that chance. They'd have an easier time getting through her overprotective father than me.
A few guys glared back at me, but most turned away and focused on their own dates. A calm, satisfying peace went through me as their eyes left my beautiful friend. Not tonight boys. Tonight, this angel, for some reason, was mine. A smirk was stuck on my lips for most of the songs after that.
Finally, a slow song started playing and Sawyer smiled and reached out for me. I wasn't sure exactly how my body was going to respond to hers pressing up to me, but I couldn't deny her what she wanted. Not tonight. Praying that I could stay in the even-flow I'd managed to obtain, I smiled and grabbed her waist, pulling her into me.
My fingers slid over the crushed velvet of her dress and the contours of her body beneath it were only too obvious. I slid over the lean muscle of the sides of her stomach, around her curved hipbones to the lowest part of her back. As her arms laced around my neck, a few of my fingers disobeyed me and rested along the very top of her backside. She either didn't notice or didn't care, as she gazed at me adoringly.
She sighed and tilted her head as we stared at each other. She pulled me tighter, her chest resting flush against mine. Those breasts I'd been admiring earlier, pressed firmly against me, made me need to swallow repeatedly and search my brain for something else to think about. Not helping the situation any, she started running her hand through the back of my hair, bringing our faces mere inches apart.
My eyes drifted to her lips and I knew. . . I knew this was going to be a bad moment, if I didn't do something to distract myself - and soon. Quickly thinking of anything to say to her, I sputtered out, "So, Miss I'm-secretly-obsessed-with-school-dances, how is it you've never been to one before?" She'd let that slip during our planning sessions for tonight and it had surprised me. For someone so into it, I figured she'd been on the dance committee at her old school.
She sighed and looked away, our bodies naturally pulling back from each other. I exhaled a quick breath in relief and then tilted my head at her reaction. She was worrying her perfectly painted lip and staring out over the crowd of intimately dancing couples, but she didn't seem to be seeing any of them. I idly wondered what exactly was replaying itself in her head.
"It's okay, Sawyer. . . to talk to me. " I immediately recognized the oddity of me saying that, since I never really opened up to her. She raised an eyebrow as she twisted back around to face me and I thought she probably caught the oddity of it too.
She didn't call me on it though, only sighed and shook her head. "I didn't have a date. " She shrugged and I frowned at her anticlimactic answer. Surely there was more to it than that?
I shrugged as well. "Why didn't you go alone. . . or with a group of friends?" I knew that some of the girls around here did that occasionally. It seemed socially acceptable for girls to that - girl power and all. If a group of guys did that, well, there was a certain social stigma to it.
Sawyer looked down before quickly looking back up at me. "I didn't have a whole lot of girlfriends back there and the school instituted a one guy, one girl policy anyway. It had the parents in an uproar at first," she shrugged, "but what can you do?"
I frowned as I considered that. She was still worrying her lip and looking like she really wanted to fess up to something. I wouldn't normally have pushed, but she looked like she wanted to talk about it, she just wasn't quite there yet. I squeezed her waist, drawing her tight to me again. "Hey. . . tell me. "
She sighed again as she looked over my face. I thought her eyes were starting to water, but I couldn't really be sure in the swirling light patterns that flashed along our bodies. She opened her mouth and shut it, then opened it again. I waited patiently while she did it again, this time speaking before closing it again.
"The boy. . . the stupid one I told you about. . . " Her eyes flicked over my face nervously and her voice dropped so low, I had to lean in to hear her over the music. "He. . . " I nodded at her and rubbed the small of her back, silently encouraging her to open up to me. She swallowed and then finally did. "He was supposed to take me to junior prom last year. "
She looked away, her eyes definitely shining as she glanced around at the crepe paper and loose balloons. "I was so excited to go. " She turned her head back to me, the sad smile on her lips unconsciously making me hold her tighter. "He was the most popular guy in our class, and my class alone, was about three times the size of the entire student body here. " Her head motioned around to the suddenly sparse feeling gym. A surge of jealousy flashed through me, but I forced it down and made myself concentrate on her story.
She slowly shook her head as she said, "He was handsome and athletic and funny and charming," her eyes locked onto mine, "and he told me he loved me. " That jealousy sprang up in me again, but her lower lip started to tremble, making it shift to sympathy instead. She shook her head again, more forcefully. "I thought I loved him. I adored him. God, I practically worshipped him. "
She looked down at our tightly held together bodies and her voice dropped again. I lowered my head to rest against hers, so I could hear her in the noisy room. "Two weeks before the dance, I gave him my virginity. " She looked up at me and I forced myself to not close my eyes and dwell in the sudden sadness that swept through me. Sadness that she wasn't at the same level I was, that she'd been with someone like that before, that someone else had ever touched her that way. But I made myself keep eye contact as her voice quavered horribly with her next words. "I loved him and gave him every part of me. . . and he. . . " her voice and face turned to a mean sneer that I'd never seen on her, not even when she talked about Brittany, ". . . he gave me a three on his fuck-o-meter. "
My mouth dropped open at that and a hard flash of anger burned me. "He what?"
The moisture in her eyes built up to near flood level as her face softened into sadness. "He was playing some stupid game with his friends, something his brother had picked up at his fraternity. " Her eyes looked over the crowd again as her arms tightened around my neck. "He got points for sleeping with different types of girls. I was a low type. "
She swallowed and lowered her head. I brought my hand up to her chin and made her look at me. Our feet slowed to stillness as I held her in my arms. "No, no you're not. You're not a low anything. He's an idiot. "
She sniffled and swallowed back her tears, a light smile playing on her lips. I stroked my thumb along her cheek before returning my hand to her waist, pulling her in for a hug. She returned it, laying her head on my shoulder, her mouth facing my ear. Without us looking at each other, she continued.
"I found out about it, when I overheard some girls laughing about me in gym class. They said there was a chart in his locker and I was on it, so I busted it open to see for myself. . . and it was true. He'd slept with a half dozen other girls while I thought we were a couple, and he ranked them all higher than me. Needless to say, I didn't go to the prom with him. I barely went to school after that. I just couldn't take the hurt and humiliation. I couldn't bear to look at his charming, beautiful face. "
I held her tight when she said that, my hands coming up to wrap over her shoulders, wishing I could wrap myself around her heartache. I'd never loved someone who'd used me like that. I almost couldn't imagine the torture that must have been for her. "I'm so sorry, Sawyer," I whispered.
She sighed and sagged against me. "Do you know what the stupidest part is? I still loved him. I spent weeks wondering what I'd done wrong, why he didn't love me like I loved him. A part of me wanted to rush over to him and tell him I forgave him for everything, beg him to take me back. But I started seeing him hanging on other girls. . . and I couldn't. I knew I didn't compare. I knew I had no chance. I knew I was worthless. "
I immediately pulled back from her and put both hands on her cheeks. "No, you're not. Don't ever say that. " I shook my head, disbelieving that the warm, wonderful person between my hands could ever think they were anything but perfect.
She closed her tear-filled eyes and leaned her head against mine. In a whisper she continued with her painful reminiscing. "I didn't handle it all very well and I. . . I did something outrageously stupid. " Her voice lowered even more, to where I could barely make out the words over the blasting song lyrics. "I. . . got. . . really drunk and. . . "
She stopped herself and peeked her eyes up at me. Biting her lip, she shook her head lightly against mine. "I freaked my parents out and they pulled me from the last few weeks of school, eventually dragging me out here. They thought I'd do better in a smaller environment, even though it cost them their jobs, their friends. They gave up their entire life back there. . . for me. " A tiny smile lit her lips. "I try to never forget that, even when they're being impossible about our. . . friendship. " I smiled with her and dropped my hands to her waist again. She pulled her head back, and her voice took on that wisdom-soaked tone that was too old for seventeen. "This town, this school, was a chance for me to start over and I've never taken that for granted, even when things here have been hard. "
She grabbed a loose piece of her super-black hair, holding a strand up for me. "I did this to remind myself, that I can be anyone I choose to be. " She looked at the strand and smiled. "I'm traditionally a mousey-brown kind of color," she explained. With a smile she added, "My mom gets a kick out of coloring it for me every few weeks. It's the one thing we splurge on. "
The smile on my face faded as I thought over everything she'd confessed to me. I ached with sympathy for her and admired her for her strength, all at the same time. Maybe our situations weren't exactly similar, but she'd certainly dealt with her fair share of torture and ridicule. And here she was, starting over in a new town, determined to make it through each day in any way she could, much like me.
My hands slid up to her shoulder blades again, hugging her to me, our heads resting together again. My heart warmed as I held her tight, never wanting to let her go, never wanting her to get hurt again. The music swelled around us and my hand came up to cup her cheek. We inched closer and now every inch of her was pressing against me, head to foot. We'd stopped bothering to move with the music awhile ago and were just standing still together on the swaying-with-bodies dance floor, holding each other.
"I'm so sorry, Sawyer. " I rocked my head against hers as my thumb stroked her cheek, wishing I could stroke away her pain. "I wish I'd been there. I wish I'd known you. " I exhaled softly and ran my finger along the edge of her face. I could see her eyes start to water again as she stared at me. "I wish I could have saved you from that. "
My hand moved around to the back of her head, holding her in place against me. She lifted her chin so our noses rested side-by-side and her breath lightly fanned over me. "I'd never let anyone hurt you, Sawyer. I'd never hurt you. I love you," I whispered, my words not making it any farther than the centimeters away from me that she was.
I didn't know what I meant by that phrase anymore. I couldn't think of anything, other than the overwhelming feelings I had for her. I couldn't process anything farther than naming that feeling. Her watering eyes threatened to drop that moisture as she held my intense gaze. "I love you too," she whispered, a tear finally making it down her cheek. I didn't know what she meant by that either. There were so many different levels of love - it was too exhausting to think about it. . . so I stopped.
My hand came back to her cheek, stroking the tear away with my thumb. Her lips parted, her breath picking up pace, and my eyes drifted down to the perfect heart arch. I found myself closing the distance between us, my lower lip brushing her upper one. We paused like that, my breath faster, my heart starting to race and my body starting to react again.
"Lucas," she whispered, her lips moving against mine as she spoke.
My throat closed on me and my nerves spiked. The pounding in my chest intensified to a level that I thought might be dangerous for me, and the only coherent thing screaming in my head was 'kiss her. ' Her body pressed against mine, our lips lightly touching, her thumbs stroking the back of my neck, my free one rubbing against the fabric of her dress. It was all too much for my body - too emotional, too sensual. I couldn't help it and I couldn't stop it, especially since I'd been struggling with my hormones all night anyway, and her hips pressing against mine were only exacerbating the situation.
She gasped softly and glanced down at where our hips were touching and I knew she knew. I knew she could feel me becoming aroused by her. Embarrassed beyond belief at what I'd been trying so desperately to hide from her earlier now being exposed, I stepped back, quickly dropping my hands to my sides. Surprising me, she stepped forward, pressing herself up against me again and I sucked in a quick breath.
"Oh. . . Lucas. . . " she whispered again, her hand coming up to my cheek, her lips stopping just short of touching mine.
My heart thudded in my ears as I debated. As I debated crossing that line again, debated caving to the feeling I'd been fighting back all night, debated letting her
in. Finally, I stopped fighting this feeling I'd been losing against all evening anyway. Hating myself, I leaned forward the infinitesimal amount needed to connect our lips, my hands automatically slinking around her waist.
The kiss was different from any kiss we'd experienced before. For one thing, I was in better control. I wasn't having an emotional breakdown and I wasn't high off my ass. The kiss was light and languid; we felt each other, we absorbed each other, we learned each other. There was so much emotion in the movement, that I nearly expected tears to spring to my eyes.
We broke apart after a moment and as my eyes lazily opened, I focused on the shape of her mouth as she pulled away from me. My eyes slowly lifted up to hers, right as hers lifted to mine. I could see the questions in her depths; I could see the desire too. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what was right. All I knew, was that her firm body, wrapped in luxuriously soft velvet, was still making my body react. All I knew, was my breath was faster as I gazed at her. And all I knew, was I missed the warmth of her lips on mine. And I needed that. I needed her back on me.
Maybe finding an answer to her unasked question, she leaned back in at the exact same time that I did. Our lips met in the same place as before, but this time with slightly more urgency. My hand trailed up her spine, straight up the back of her neck to tangle in some loose strands of her up-do. Some silky tendrils threaded through my fingers as I moved my hand all the way up to scrunch into the back of her hair, pulling her into me.
I didn't care that we were being quite public. I didn't care that everyone in school would know about this after break. For once, I didn't care about the gossip that surrounded us. She was what I cared about - her mouth, her tongue, her breath, her body. . . her heart.
I couldn't stop kissing her. I couldn't believe she was letting me. I couldn't believe I was letting me, but I couldn't stop. Part of my brain was screaming that it was wrong, really wrong, but as her soft lips moved across mine, all I could think was that it felt so. . . right. My body was saying that I needed this. That this moment was perfect and my brain should just shut up. . . and for once, my brain listened.
Just as her hands were weaving through my hair and our kiss was deepening dramatically, we were suddenly yanked apart. I stumbled as I was forcibly pulled a foot away from her. She stumbled as well at the sudden movement. Panicked, I looked over to a smirking Mr. Varner, who had one hand on Sawyer's shoulder and one hand on mine, prying us apart. I blinked at seeing him holding us; I hadn't been physically pulled away from a girl since the seventh grade.
"There is no foreplay on the dance floor. " He leaned into the both of us. "If you want to have sex, you drive your car to the river, just like all the other kids. " He chuckled at that and looked me over, concentrating on my eyes. If he'd had a flashlight, he would have flicked it back and forth over my irises, making sure they dilated properly. I glared back at him, showing him that I wasn't under any influences. He smirked again and lightly shook his head before turning and leaving us to our slow dance.
I looked back at Sawyer, reason returning to me as I did. I shouldn't have been kissing her. It was still really wrong and misleading and I'd sworn I wasn't doing that tonight. Why couldn't I ever keep my silent promises to her? Instead of clutching her tight to me again, I kept our distance. I avoided looking at her eyes as guilt washed through me; guilt for her and guilt for Lillian.
Finally, I looked over my shoulder at the punch bowl on the snack table and muttered, "I need a drink. " I sort of looked back at her. "Want one?"
With a soft voice, she answered me. "Sure. . . I guess. "
Studying the spot in the corner of the gym where the punch bowl was, I extended my hand out to her without looking her way. I felt her grab it and interlace our fingers. Embarrassment and guilt prevented me from looking at her just yet. None of that should have happened. I weaved us through the throngs, grateful for the bodies around us that gave me an excuse to not have to engage her yet. I heard a buzzing current of whispers follow us along and I could only imagine the stories I'd just provided this crowd:
"Did you hear? They were practically screwing on the dance floor. I heard Luc was so wasted Sawyer had to hold him upright. Then Mr. Varner came by and Lucas picked a fight with him. God, he was only trying to be a responsible teacher and Luc went off on him - you know they had a threesome, right?"
I sighed and rolled my eyes at all the possible forks the gossip stream could run through. I set my jaw and tightened my grip on Sawyer as I pulled us through the crowd. They'd pick the worst one and run with it - that was just the way it went. The most hurtful comments, the most tortuous situation - whatever was the best scandal, that's what people would believe. Guilt calmed my temper as I thought through what Sawyer knew of hurtful gossip. She really was a lot like me. . . and here I was, dragging her back down into the mud, when she was trying to get her life back together again.
I let go of Sawyer's hand when we reached the six foot table with a huge bowl of some pink liquid. Sawyer stepped beside me, but I kept my face forward, staring at the stupid bowl, the water slightly sloshing inside from the bass of the hip-hop number pounding in the room. Her hand came up and I thought she might swing me around to look at her, but she only reached down to the table, to grab a couple plastic cups from a large stack of them.
No one was manning the station, or anywhere near it, so I ladled some punch into a cup when she handed me one. Without looking at her, I handed the full cup back to her and grabbed the other empty one. I filled it as well and sighed, hating how I was ruining her night. Sure, we'd been inappropriate and I'm sure we'd need to have a conversation about that, but I couldn't just ignore her for the rest of the night. Hadn't I promised that I'd make this night memorable for her? That we'd have fun? I knew I wasn't being much fun at the moment.
We stepped away from the table and I finally turned to face her. She was holding her cup in both hands and staring at the liquid inside, one thumb stroking the ring on her other one. I sighed and she looked up at me.
"Sawyer. . . " My throat suddenly parched, I took a huge gulp of punch, nearly swallowing half the cup in one gulp. That was when my entire night shifted. That was when everything in my body shifted.
My throat burned as the huge amount of liquid I'd consumed traveled down the length of it. I didn't know what I'd just had, but I knew a large portion of it was alcohol. Some idiot had actually spiked the punch bowl. A year ago I'd of thought it was funny, but a lot had happened in a year. Now, as I coughed and sputtered on the potent liquid and Sawyer's brow scrunched together in concern, everything that had happened in that year rushed in on me. More specifically, everything that had happened on that night rushed in on me.
It was the alcohol. The smell. The taste. Whatever was in there was sending my senses into overdrive. It was the same as that night. It was the exact same stuff Darren, Sammy and Lil had been drinking at the bonfire party. I hadn't actually drunk any myself, but my mouth had been all over Lillian, and what she'd tasted, I'd tasted.
That remembered taste and scent flooded my brain as my vision started to swim with the suddenness of the alcohol hitting my system. I stepped back from Sawyer and she grabbed my half full cup and set it on the table with hers, confusion and compassion clear in her face as she reached out for me. The memories of laughing, prancing around a fire, lying with Lil on the beach, the alcohol on her breath, on her tongue, assaulted me. I couldn't shut it off.
My stomach rose as I took another step back from Sawyer. I couldn't control my body. That one dose of alcohol was enough to bring back every horrid and wonderful detail of that night, and I generally tried to keep those memories buried deep within my subconscious. My mind drifted forward in the sudden torrent of reflections - to the onslaught of rain, to the faint yellow stripe in the road, to the squeak of the windshield, to Darren's laugh, to the beer can being passed back and forth, the smell of it reaching me whenever Lil handed it to Sammy.
I
leaned over and clenched my stomach, my breath embarrassingly fast, nearly out of control. I was having a panic attack in the middle of the dance, a dance where people were already watching my every move. But my breathing was really the least of my problems. My stomach clenched with a terrible familiarity as Lil's face clouded my eyes.
I looked around, knowing I didn't have much time. Sawyer's wide eyes caught mine for a second and she put her hand on my back, asking what was wrong. I couldn't answer her. I couldn't even speak because my stomach was in my throat, closing off speech. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to stay there.
A wastebasket on one side of the punch bowl table drew all of my attention and I darted over to it, leaving Sawyer a few paces behind me. With both hands on the edges, I leaned over and nosily lost my stomach, that vile liquid leaving my system in not one, but three short heaves.
I panted over the edge of the basket, feeling my stomach descend to its normal level. The sound of laughter hit me over the music. I closed my eyes and felt my cheeks heat. Throwing up in the middle of the gym was not exactly the best way to stay inconspicuous. Embarrassment flooded me and regardless of wanting to give Sawyer a good time, I suddenly wanted to be gone. Maybe trying to rejoin the world hadn't been the best idea after all.
I felt Sawyer's hands lightly rubbing my back as she leaned over to ask if I was alright. I nodded, still able to hear chuckling going on around me. The can reeked of alcohol now, and leaning over it was going to make me lose it again, so reluctantly, I straightened and faced the music, so to speak. I turned, wiping my mouth with my sleeve, and was met by Sawyer's concerned gray eyes. She ran a hand across my cheek then put the back of her hand against my forehead, like she was checking to see if I was sick.
I shook my head and muttered I was fine then glanced behind her at the packed gym floor. Several sets of eyes were staring our way, some leaned over in conversation with their partners, others outright laughing. Two individuals that were cracking up louder than was really necessary, caught my attention. Josh and Will were on the edge of the floor, just a few steps away from me, standing together and holding their stomachs they were howling so hard.
Josh got himself under enough control to give me a twisted sneer, and I had the feeling he was either responsible for the punch bowl or had known about it. Either way, he was enjoying my embarrassing reaction. I glanced around the room, full of people that I didn't even feel like I knew anymore, and turned away, needing out of there.
Sawyer grabbed my arm as I twisted away from her. "Where are you going?"
I glanced around at the masses, their residual laughter still echoing loudly in my ears. "I need. . . quiet. "
She nodded, understanding, and grabbed my hand, leading me from the room. She led me through a set of open doors into the hallway. The bathrooms were on one end of it and a swarm of students were down there. She pulled us to the other end where the coach's office was. No one was in that end and it was peacefully quiet. The hallway turned into a short T, with the guy's locker room on one side and the girl's on the other. We stopped as we rounded the corner, to the short side of the T by the girl's locker room. I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes, wanting to be back at home.
A warm hand came up to cup my cheek and I nearly sighed out loud from the comfort in that touch. "You alright, Luc? What happened?"
I cracked open my eyes, not sure how to explain my latest meltdown. Sawyer's held a depth of emotion in them that made it hard to think clearly. I wanted to confess everything to her. I wanted to tell her everything in my heart and in my soul, but fear locked my throat up. Talking about that night was so hard.
"Luc," she whispered. "You can talk to me. "
A corner of my lip lifted at my words coming back to me. Guilt washed through me. She'd confessed something really hard for her to talk about tonight. . . I should do the same. Maybe once we got past that hurdle, everything else between us could be talked about.
"I remember everything. . . from that night. Every horrid, intricate detail. I wish I could forget. " My throat threatened to seize up on me and my heart started racing again. She only stared at me expectantly though, and I flushed, realizing that I'd never actually said that out loud. I looked down and stammered a few times while she stepped closer, resting her hands on my chest.
"It was the punch. Josh, or someone, spiked it and it reminded me. . . it reminded me of. . . " My voice trailed off, my throat closing.
"It reminded you of that night. . . the night of the crash?"
I looked up at her, my face softening with relief that she understood. "Yes," I whispered. "I just couldn't take it. I couldn't stop the memories of the wreck from coming, and I hate thinking about what happened. . . " I stared at her, my face paling as I wondered if I'd just said that out loud. Apparently I had.
Her hand came back to my cheek, her eyes darting between mine. "Do you. . . remember, Lucas?" she whispered.
My mouth fell open and I wanted to scream "yes". Instead, I floundered for any syllables.
"Holy crap! You did show up. "
Sawyer and I turned our heads, to look at the voice encroaching on our privacy. It belonged to Brittany, who was sauntering out of the girl's locker room, alone, and stumbling a bit, like she'd had a few cups of the punch. Her honey hair was twisted into a perfectly put together mass of cascading curls and her dress was short and tight. She looked like a million bucks, but I wouldn't have gone near her if you'd given me two.
"Leave us alone, Brittany," I muttered, my voice cracking as emotions surged through me.
She gave me a sneer as she walked up to me, ignoring Sawyer standing in front of me. "You think you're so great," she slurred as she stepped into Sawyer, causing her to back up a step. Sawyer's face flushed as she glared at Brittany.
Trying to move away from where Brittany was now trapping me against the wall, I muttered, "What are you talking about?"
She put both hands on either side of my body, leaning into me. I instinctively pressed against the wall to get away. "The locker room is empty. We could finally get this. . . tension between us over with. "
I flicked a glance at Sawyer, her face darkened dramatically and her hands clenched into fists. Not wanting a fight, I gently pushed Brittany away from me. "What do you want with me, Brittany? I don't get you. "
She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. Sawyer beside me relaxed her stance and I thought maybe I'd averted World War III. Brittany gave me a condescending look as her eyes swept the length of me. "You. . . all those years you acted like you were so much better than me. "
I tilted my head, not understanding. Besides our make out session, I'd barely noticed her. I certainly had never looked down upon her. I just had had other things come up, especially when Lil and I got together. "What are you talking about?"
She stepped up to me again. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You were all over me. . . hot to trot, and then you got all sanctimonious and wouldn't even touch me, like I was beneath you or something. " Her lip twisted in a sneer. "Mr. High-and-Mighty quarterback and his Barbie doll prom queen. " She scoffed at me. "Like you didn't want to fuck me. " Her lips curved into seductiveness.
I rolled my eyes and sidestepped away from her, closer to Sawyer who was listening intently. "I didn't ever want to. . . fuck you, Brittany. Not even close. "
She snorted derisively. "Whatever, Lucas. I remember what you were like and I'm sorry but. . . " she ran a hand down my chest and I pulled away, "the way your hands ran up and down my bare body," she flicked a glance at Sawyer and I suddenly realized with a surge of annoyance why she was bringing this up, "the way your tongue probed my mouth - you wanted me. "
I pushed her back roughly, angry that she was trying to hurt Sawyer by bringing up something that hadn't really meant anything to either one of us. She stumbled at the sudden move and I thought she might fall, but she righted herself at the last moment.
"If I'd
wanted you. . . I'd of taken you. God knows it wouldn't have been hard. . . half the team did. "
Her face paled as she truly did glare at me. With a hardness in her voice, she raised her chin and said, "You can't talk to me like that. You're not a god around here anymore. " She laughed once with no trace of humor in it. "You had it all, but now, well, you've sunk all the way to the bottom of the social barrel. Hell, you're underneath the barrel, and I find that very. . . " she smiled in a not pleasant way, ". . . satisfying. "
I grabbed Sawyer's hand, ready to leave Brittany's vitriol. In my irritation, I couldn't help but snap back, "And yet, you're still trying to get me to screw you. "
She sniffed haughtily, stumbling a bit where she stood. I momentarily considered turning her in for being drunk on school property, but immediately discarded it. Regardless of what she'd do to me if the roles were reversed, I wasn't going to start turning people in out of spite. Just as I pulled Sawyer's hand to leave the hallway, Brittany angrily brushed by me, bumping my shoulder in the process.
I turned to watch her leave and she paused at the corner to the main hallway, one hand steadying her on the wall. She looked back at me, that suggestive smile back on her lips. "Even I don't mind dumpster diving every once and awhile, Luc. " Her eyes lingered down my body before flicking to Sawyer. Then with a throaty laugh, she disappeared down the hall, presumably to rejoin the dance.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, turning over my shoulder to look at Sawyer. I had an apology for Brittany's comments ready on my lips, but the look on Sawyer's face caused them to completely evaporate. Her face was pale white and her eyes were starting to water. She stared at the spot Brittany had just left us from and chewed on her lip.
"Sawyer?" I said quietly, suddenly very nervous, but wanting to know what she was thinking. I stepped in front of her line of sight and she blinked and looked up into my eyes.
I was just about to ask her if she was okay, when she spoke in a shaky voice. "Did you. . . date her?"
I exhaled slowly, hating Brittany for so callously bringing up that brief, pointless encounter. Trying to exude nonchalance, I said, "No. We just made out once. " I shrugged in what I hoped was a casual manner and added, "It didn't mean anything. "
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open a little bit. Her cheeks regained some color as her eyes narrowed at me. "Didn't mean anything? Do you know how much crap she gives me because of you?" I cringed and started to apologize, but she cut me off. "With how she torments me, it obviously did mean something, at least to her. Why didn't you tell me you had a history with her? No wonder she hates me, Lucas. "
She shook her head and if I didn't know any better, I'd swear a flash of jealousy went through her face. But that couldn't be, she was so vastly different to me than that sour woman. She couldn't possibly be jealous of that meaningless encounter when we had so much. . . of something.
I shook my head and put my hands on her shoulders. "No, really, it was nothing. I don't know why she's latched on to you. . . or me. I think it all goes back to Lil really. She just hates to lose, and I really didn't pay much attention to her, especially once Lil and I started dating. " I felt like I wasn't doing a very good job of explaining and my hands moved up to her cheeks, almost begging her to understand how little Brittany meant to me. "But it was nothing, Sawyer, just two kids messing around. It was no big deal. "
After I said that, she batted my hands away from her face and her eyes narrowed in anger. I took a step back, surprised at her reaction and wondering what I'd said to make her mad.
"No big deal?" she said quietly, a seething undercurrent to her tone.
Not sure what I was doing wrong, I cautiously said, "Yeah. It was just making out. . . no big deal. " I shrugged and raised my arms slightly to the sides, hoping she'd get that I meant that.
Her face got even stormier and I suddenly got the impression that I was digging myself into an even deeper hole, I just wasn't sure why. Her finger suddenly came out to poke in my chest. I frowned at the movement and at her words. "Just when I think that you're different than all the other guys, you go and say something like that, and sound just like them. "
I blinked, hopelessly confused. "Sawyer, I don't. . . What did I say wrong?"
She pulled her finger back, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away from me, towards the girl's locker room. Vague sounds of music and people laughing drifted from the other hallway to us, but I didn't currently care about the embarrassing debacle that had driven me out here not so long ago. I didn't even care about the odd exchange with Brittany. All I cared about was this woman before me, that seemed to be mad at me for some reason.
Not turning her head to look at me, she spoke in a tight, controlled voice. "Nothing. You said nothing wrong, Lucas. I was just wondering. . . if maybe you came in your shorts for her, too. " She looked back at me then, her eyes angry, hurt and on the verge of tears. "I was just wondering if that was 'no big deal'. "
Collision Course Page 18
