by Germaine, KF
“I’m eighteen.” I stood, walked over the door, and pushed it closed.
“I hate wearing dresses.” I pulled my dress over my head, and he swallowed, taking in my frame. “And I hate cuddling.”
Before I knew it, Peters plowed through the dancing crowd, heading straight for me with fierce determination. I held my breath, watching, but two blondes made it to me first.
“Sanwicha Hamm?” Tina’s voice cut into my ear as she stepped in front of me. Tiffany joined her side, and they gave me another onceover.
Peters stopped just behind them. He crossed his arms over his fleece-clad chest but didn’t say a word. His eyes flickered with irritation, but surprisingly not at me. He was staring at the Tiffany.
“What are you doing here?” Tiffany said, lifting her hand to touch the strap of my cheap dress. “Here to profess your undying love for Jack Porter, I presume. Well, I think it’s a little too late for that. Theresa’s already boning him in one of the rooms.”
My heart sank so low I was sure it slipped out of me and landed on the sticky hardwood floor.
What have I done?
“Which room?” I said coolly, looking past them at Peters. I couldn’t interpret the expression on his face as he glanced between two-thirds of the Shrieking T’s and myself.
“This party’s invite only,” Tiffany answered, pointing to the front door. “You need to leave.”
“I invited her.” Peters’s cool voice interrupted my racing heart. “Sanwicha is on the guest list.” He reached between them and grabbed my hand.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“What are you doing?” Sydney yelled as I pulled her down the crowded hallway.
I began opening every door on our way down, looking for Jack. “You said you were looking for Jack, Sydney. So let’s look for Jack. You want to interrupt his good time, so let’s make this thing official and embarrass him,” I growled out just as her hand slipped through my grip.
“Stop!” she yelled and leaned back against the hallway wall. “Just stop, Peters. I just need to find Jack. He’s not answering my calls. I know he’s somewhere with Theresa.” Sydney closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll be out of here in ten minutes. Just let me look around. Then you can go back to hating me and wishing I’d die from a compact disc laceration.”
Fuck me.
When I saw Sydney leaning against my living room wall, a million emotions ripped through my body. She was annoying. She was manipulative. She was my enemy. But she was my enemy. When the Shrieking T’s began to circle her like vultures, I had to intervene.
Unshed tears appeared at the corners of her eyes, and I instinctively laid a forearm next to her head and cupped the side of her face. “Don’t cry… just don’t.”
“I’m not.”
I brushed my thumb under her eyes, wiping away the evidence, but she didn’t flinch. She let me smooth her hair from her forehead, and I felt her soften under my touch. “I could never hate you, Sydney. We fight. That’s what we do. I make empty threats from the back of the bus after waking up with glitter in my eye and a thong on my head.”
Eyes still closed, she smiled just slightly. Just enough to give me hope.
“I know you talked to Coach. You got me out of punishment because you fessed up, and thank you for the money. I’m not rich, and my parents do work hard… This is how we play, Sydney. It’s Porter and Peters at one another’s throats.” I stroked my thumb from her face to throat, and she exhaled, slightly parting her lips. They looked soft and smooth and dewy. I desperately wanted to pull them into mine and taste her.
“I could never hate you, Sydney,” I repeated myself, now entranced.
“Trust me. If you don’t hate me now, you’re going to hate me soon enough,” she whispered, her chest heaving into mine on each breath. “I’m a terrible person, and it’s all coming to a head tomorrow.” She looked up at me with her big, brown Bambi eyes. “Jack loves Allison. They’re supposed to be each other’s firsts. Not Theresa. Allison.”
I knew Sydney had a soft side. She was all spikes and acid on the outside, but inside she was vulnerable. If it took every last fiber of my being, I’d break down that guarded heart, swinging elbows just to get in. “Let’s find him, then… together. I like a happy ending as much as the next guy.”
She laughed softly. “I bet you do, Peters.”
I winked and grabbed her hand, pulling her down the hallway.
I have a lock on my door, so you’d have to be a magician to gain access. Chance was in his room, making out with some redhead. “Get the fuck out!” he screamed, tossing a video game cartridge at my head. Fernando’s room was clear. No one was stupid enough to mess around in there.
When we couldn’t find them in the den or the kitchen or the living room, I knew there was one place left—the garage.
“It’s freezing in here,” Sydney said, squeezing my hand tightly. “I guess they left the house.”
When she dropped my hand, I felt like I was missing a limb. Like an important piece of me had just vanished, and I formed a fist, holding on to her warmth. Sydney walked around the garage in a daze and stopped by the Porsche. “Suddenly, I have hankering for tacos,” she said quietly, running her hand along the open roof edge.
“Yeah. Still working on the smell.” I grabbed two beers from the garage fridge. “Beer?” I asked, already tossing it at her head.
With ninja reflexes, Sydney grabbed the can midair, popped open the top, and perched against the hood. I stayed on the other side of the car, admiring the curve of her back. When I noticed her legs quivering against the cool metal, I removed my fleece, throwing it at her from behind.
She snatched it as it slid past, folded it, and laid it next to her. “You don’t want me to wear this, Peters.” She smoothed the fabric with her hand. “I’m serious. My life is over tomorrow. Sydney Porter will be banished from campus. A mob of angry villagers will have stormed my dorm room with torches in their hands, chanting, ‘Hand over the witch.’
“And Allison.” She paused, drawing in a deep breath. “Allison will gladly open the door and point to me huddled in the corner. She’ll say, ‘Try not to splatter blood on my prom corsages, will you?’”
“Now don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?” Rounding the Porsche, I unfolded the fleece and spread it over her. “Even for you?” I tucked the sides under her legs to keep her warm.
“No.” She shook her head and lifted her beer to her lips. “Because no matter what happens, I’m the one who loses. There are no winners in this game, Peters.” She took a sip and slowly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
The spark was gone from her eyes. Shit, I’d done this to Sydney. I’d taken this vibrant girl and crushed her until she could hardly recognize herself. Until she compromised her beliefs so much she’d be willing to pimp out her own brother for his sake and hers. I’d pushed her too far.
The glow of the streetlights seeped through the small garage door windows and dappled across her worried eyes. Her skin was pricked with a million goose bumps, and I just wanted to hold her. Instead, I rubbed my hands together and slid my warm palms over her biceps. “Who said you can’t win, Sydney?”
“What do you mean?” She stretched out her forearms, letting my hands slide down to her wrists. When I lingered over her piano tattoo, she locked eyes with me. “What are you doing, Peters?”
I shook my head because, really, I didn’t know what I was doing. All I knew was Sydney was in pain. Pain I caused. I wanted her to curl up in my arms so I could tell her everything would be all right. No one would ever know her secret. I would have never let it get that far.
I held on to her hand as I pulled out my phone and sent Jack a text.
“Send Allison a message that Jack is in the garage,” I said. Then I circled an arm around her waist and slid her down the hood until she sank against my shoulder. Nudging aside her spice-filled hair with my nose, I brushed my lips across her ear. “I’ll do this favor for you, but
you have to do me a favor.”
“Where do you get off, Peters?” she whispered, leaving a line of hot moisture across my jawline. “A favor? I can only guess what you want.”
“I don’t want sex,” I whispered, but my body was throbbing. I wanted to lay her across this hood and explore every last inch of her. “I want to put our past behind us. I want to be your friend.”
“You won’t want to be my friend tomorrow.” She turned her head until our faces swept past each other’s. “Trust me.”
“Then be my friend just for tonight.” Unable to stop myself, I leaned in, rolling my forehead against hers. When our skin made contact, Sydney skimmed my mouth with those corpulent pink lips. In complete and perfect silence, we inhaled the same air, dousing one another with scorched breaths, which were growing more urgent by the millisecond.
I slowly raised a hand to her chin, stroking a thumb across her bottom lip. She was beautiful. She had no idea the power she had over a man, and it made me want her even more. Under my touch, Sydney closed her eyes and relaxed her lips until the tip of my finger was moist.
“Friends don’t touch like this, Peters.”
“Maybe they should.” I pulled her toward me, and she parted her lips. I traced her mouth with mine, ready to take her just as the main door to the garage swung open.
I panicked.
Yanking Sydney off the hood, I watched as she landed in a thump against the concrete floor. Then I dropped down beside her.
“What the hell?” she whispered, rubbing the back of her skull.
“Gray?” Jack’s voice came from the doorway. “Gray?”
Before Sydney could mutter another word, the clicking of heels came from Jack’s direction.
“There you are, Jack!” Allison’s honeyed voice shot through the garage. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I thought… I thought you’d be with Theresa Denton.”
I motioned for Sydney to crawl behind the stacked rocket dog boxes. She turned on her knees, and I followed, staring right into her beautiful ass—the ass of my comrade. Behind the protection of a bratwurst wall, we both sat cross-legged, facing one another, and listened.
“I was in the house. I just spent thirty minutes in the bathroom, washing my shirt. It’s my favorite, so I whipped up an old concoction my grandmother told me about. Works like a charm.” Jack let out a nervous chuckle.
“But I did see Theresa. She’s acting weird tonight. I think she lost a contact lens because she asked for my help in Fernando’s bedroom, and then she dropped down on her hands and knees. So I did too, but I couldn’t find anything on the floor. When I looked up, she was super angry and dumped her drink all over me, yelling something about how I could have a sandwich if I wanted.”
Sydney and I grabbed each other’s forearms and stifled our laughter.
God, she was brilliant. Her cheeks always formed perfect round circles when she smiled. Those eyes, they’d haunt any man’s dreams, and sometimes their nightmares, depending on the situation.
“What was that?” Allison’s voice shot out from behind the boxes, and we both tightened our mouths.
“Probably rats,” Jack responded, and I raised my nose, twitching it around to make Sydney laugh. She did, covering her mouth. I couldn’t help it. Sydney had so much personality that every time I made her laugh or smile, I felt like I’d won an Oscar. Screw the Heisman.
“I didn’t know you were coming tonight. I mean, I would have invited you myself, but I thought Katharine was dead set against pledges being here. Do you want to go back inside?”
Allison let out a long sigh. “She is, and I do want to go inside, but Katharine will punch me in the uterus if I do. She’s threatened all off us with uterus jabs so we can’t make Kappa babies to pledge in twenty years.”
Sydney’s eyes grew wide and she made a fist, slamming it into the palm of her other hand. “I’ve got a sterilization trick for Katharine, but it doesn’t involve a blow to the uterus,” she whispered, and I covered her mouth with my hand.
She stuck out her tongue and licked my palm. I chuckled and lowered it in her lap—too close to her nether region—so I quickly started to drag it away. But before I could, Sydney grabbed it back, holding it tightly, and inched forward until our knees touched.
We were now face to face in my freezing garage, hidden behind the dark shadows offered by thirteen hundred rocket dogs (Fernando already ate a box), and there was nowhere else I wanted to be.
“Well, we can sit in Gray’s car,” Jack said, opening the door and slamming it shut. “Gray lets me drive it all the time. You know, we’re cool like that.”
Annoyed, I scrunched up my face, and Sydney squeezed my hand, still wearing a huge smile.
“Here, Ally, you’re cold. Please take my jacket. I really think you should eat more carbohydrates. You’re so thin and beautiful, but it’s good to have some extra weight in the winter.”
Sydney threw her head back and shook it in a silent laugh. When she lowered it back down, a tear escaped her eye, and I brushed it off with the back of my hand.
I couldn’t tell what kind of tear it was. A happy tear? A sad tear? Maybe a little of both. All I knew was I never wanted to make Sydney cry again, because her face full of any tears would be too much for me to handle.
“Jack,” Allison said, clearing her throat, “I’ve really liked hanging out with you over the last few weeks. I’d like for us to go out. Like on a real date. Outside of school and outside of the library.”
“Yes,” Jack quickly replied with clear and distinct confidence. “I’ve been wanting that since the moment I laid eyes on you, Ally. You’re the smartest, sweetest, and most hygienic girl on this campus. I would love to take you out.”
Sydney lifted her arms and jokingly sniffed her armpits, but that beaming smile stayed plastered on her face. It quickly dropped when smacking noises began from the front seat of my car.
“Do me a favor, Peters,” she leaned in and whispered, pointing to a toolbox set in the corner of the garage. “Pick up a wrench and knock me unconscious. I can’t live with myself if I hear my brother lose his virginity.”
I smiled and lifted my hands to cover her ears. “Can you hear me?”
She shook her head and whispered, “Now’s the time to tell me to go to hell, Peters. Your big meat paws are thick. I can’t hear shit.”
“You smell like mayonnaise left out in the sun too long, Sinister.” I started off with a childish low blow just to test her. She smiled, flashing me a thumbs-up.
“One of your breasts is bigger than the other.” Her left.
Another thumbs-up.
The smacking noises grew at a steady pace, and I made a note to have Jack detail it later. Pressing my palms down against her ears, I closed my eyes. Because if DJ couldn’t hear and QB couldn’t see, the next words out of my mouth wouldn’t be real.
“I love you, Sydney Porter.”
When I opened them, she gave me another thumbs-up.
Then she said, “I loathe you too, Gray Peters.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I opened my eyes to a dark room and a ceiling sprinkled with glow-in-the-dark stars. Moving my body in a slow snow angel-like formation, I inhaled a breath of relief.
I was the only one in Gray Peters’s bed.
A low snoring sound came from the floor below me, and peering over the edge, I saw Peters lying in a fetal position on his rug. He’d pulled all the covers off the bed, leaving me totally exposed. I gently tugged his bedspread back up, and he stirred.
“Sydney?”
“No, it’s Fernando… Go back to sleep or I’ll roll off the bed and smother you.”
He laughed and sat up straight. Holding his head, he let out the low groan of a severely hung-over twenty-something. “Jesus Christ. What happened last night?”
I tugged up the rest of the covers and turned on my side. “The question is what didn’t happen last night, Peters, and for the record,”—I flipped a finger between him and myself
—“we didn’t happen.”
“I know,” he said a little half-heartedly. “Can I get on the bed? This hard floor is leaving my hip sore.”
Before I could answer hell no, he jumped in bed and pulled the covers up. I nudged him with my elbow, and he fell back out.
“I should go home.” I sat up and realized I was wearing a large white T-shirt. “Shit. What happened to my dress?”
He raised a hand above the mattress edge and pointed to a skintight blue dress, now cut into long strips, in the corner. “You came in here complaining about societal pressures on women to wear uncomfortable sausage tube casings, then grabbed a pair of scissors off the desk and started cutting from the crotch up.”
“What? No way.” Reaching down, I made sure I still had on my underwear. “Were you in here? Oh my God.”
He laughed and let out another painful moan. “No, Allison came in here with you. She helped you cut it and then found a T-shirt in one of my drawers. Then you put on a pair of my socks, grabbed my sunglasses, and slid across the living room floor with Allison, singing Beyoncé.”
“I would never.” I gasped, and he laughed harder. “Beyoncé?”
“Trust me. You did. Fernando got it on video. It’s probably on YouTube now. He’s been big into YouTube since his DJ stardom.”
I lay back in bed, and Peters released a whimper like a man who’d just lost a bar fight.
“What are you wearing, Peters?” I peered back over the edge, but I still hadn’t quite adjusted to the room’s darkness. “Do you have clothes on?”
“A T-shirt and boxers.”
I lifted the covers. “Fine, get in… No touching.”
A second later, Peters hopped into bed, and I’d made a wall of pillows between the two of us as a barrier. Despite using four pillows, there was still one for each of our heads.
“You’re like a girl with all these pillows. Allison would be envious. Speaking of, is she still here? How’d she get home?”
