Pride

by Robin Wasserman

  “You want a piece of me?” he asked in a mock threatening voice, as icy drops spattered down on her.

  She looked up at his flushed face, illuminated by a childlike joy, and suddenly lifted her head up to kiss him.

  “I want all of you,” she said sincerely—and then, before he could stop her, grabbed the hand with the snowball and smashed it into his face.

  “You snooze, you lose,” she crowed, exploding into laughter. He fell to the ground beside her, laughing just as hard.

  The sky looked so different up here, she thought, barely noticing the chill creeping through her fingers and toes. It seemed so much closer, as if she could reach up and grab a cloud.

  Adam’s gloved hand took her own, and she snuggled against him, wishing that they weren’t sprawled out in the open behind the resort. She wanted to be alone with him—now.

  “Think your roommate’s going to be around tonight?” she asked innocently. Harper hadn’t actually told Adam about her WFS plan, but she figured he would see the possibilities of this weekend just as clearly as she did.

  “Nah, Nikki kicked out her roommate, so he’s not going to be coming back tonight.”

  Or ever, Harper thought—once Nikki got her claws into someone, she was unlikely to let go.

  “So if you wanted to,” Adam began again, tentatively.

  “It would be a shame to let an empty room go to waste,” she said casually. But her heart was thudding in her ears. Why was she so nervous?

  “Are you sure?” he asked—and there was nothing casual about his tone.

  She looked around at the sky, the mountains, the snow—his face. It was the perfect spot for a perfect moment.

  “I’m sure.”

  Since their chaperone had disappeared within minutes of arrival, the Haven High kids were free to do whatever they wanted at White Stone Lodge. There was a party in room 17, free pot in room 32, and Miranda was pretty sure she’d heard something about skinny-dipping in the hot tub.

  But Miranda wasn’t in the mood. She’d brought along her new, über-portable laptop in hopes there’d be some kind of wireless network she could tap into. Her dating profile had been up for a few days and, much as she hated to admit it, she was desperate to see whether anyone had responded to her. It seemed a little pathetic, to have come all this way, spent all this money, just to spend another Saturday night at home in front of the computer … but on the other hand, she thought, logging on to her e-mail server, Harper was likely gone for the night, so it’s not like anyone would ever have to know.

  Congratulations, Spitfire, the following 3 users have expressed interest in your profile!

  User Profile: TheDude

  Sex: male

  Age: 17

  Height: 6′1″

  Favorite color: gold

  Favorite food: beer

  If I were an animal, I’d be: a PARTY animal

  Celebrity I most look like: Brad Pitt

  Best lie I’ve ever told: No Officer, I haven’t been drinking.

  Three things I can’t live without: beer, sex, pot

  I am … one wild and crazy guy, looking to party it up with one (or more) lucky ladies.

  You are … totally hot, especially in a miniskirt—and out of one. If you know what I mean. Wink, wink.

  And then there was bachelor number two …

  User Profile: HanSolo

  Sex: male

  Age: 16

  Height: 5′3 ½″

  Favorite color: Martian red

  Favorite food: peanuts

  If I were an animal, I’d be: a Wookie

  Best lie I’ve ever told: It’s not a doll—it’s an action figure.

  Celebrity I most look like: Mark Hamill

  Three things I can’t live without: Star Wars boxed set, comic books, and my scale model of the Millennium Falcon (I built it myself!)

  I am … the guy at the back of the class that you’ve never noticed before. The one lurking by your locker that you brush past without a word. I’m very smart, I just need some help with my people skills—at least that’s what my mom says.

  You are … friendly, nice, a Star Wars fan (may the Force be with you!). You like going to conventions and building models. And you would be willing to dress up like Princess Leia in the gold bikini.

  And, of course, Mirandas personal favorite:

  User Profile: Thrasher

  Sex: Yes, please

  Age: 18

  Height: 11 inches

  Favorite color: whatever color your thong is

  Favorite food: pizza

  If I were an animal, I’d be: a coyote

  Best lie I’ve ever told: Of course I remember your name.

  Celebrity I most look like: the Rock

  Three things I can’t live without: my bike, my booze, my band

  I am … a guy who likes motorcycles, trucks, booze, and hard rock.

  You are … a chick who digs guys who like motorcycles, trucks, booze, and hard rock.

  Spitfire, if you would like to send a message to any of these users, click here.

  Miranda snorted in disgust. What had she been thinking? Like anyone other than the freaks and the geeks would be using this stupid Web site. She could only imagine the look on these losers’ faces if they ever saw who they’d picked. There was a horrifying thought: Even these freak shows probably wouldn’t want to date her if they got the chance.

  Face it, Miranda, she told herself, flicking off the computer. You’re just doomed to be alone—forever.

  “We should really get some sleep,” Beth pointed out, wriggling out of Kanes grasp.

  He checked the clock on the nightstand: 10:40.

  “Sleep?” he asked in surprise. “It’s way too early for that. Besides”—he grabbed her and pulled her down beside him—“I’m sure we can find something more interesting to do.”

  She stiffened beneath his grasp and, again, pulled away.

  Kane issued a silent curse—pulling away was all she ever did, and this whole chase thing was beginning to lose its luster. “Fine, we’ll sleep,” he said irritably. “I’ve been looking forward to waking up next to you—”

  “Actually,” she interrupted, rising from the bed and pulling on her shirt (despite his best efforts, her jeans had never even made it off), “I think I should go back to my room.”

  “Why? We’ve got plenty of space, plenty of privacy. Isn’t this why we—?”

  She bit her lip and nervously tucked her hair behind her ears. “We’d get in a lot of trouble if we got caught,” she said softly, backing away. “And I should really—besides, it’s a big day tomorrow. And maybe tomorrow night …”

  “Hey, hey, slow down,” he urged her, following her to the door and taking hold of her waist before she slipped out. “What’s wrong?” he asked, gently turning her to face him. “You’re trembling.”

  He felt her muscles clench, and for a second he thought she would pull away again, but then she relaxed into the embrace and touched his face lightly with the palm of her hand. “I just need to go,” she told him. “Okay?”

  “Of course it’s okay,” he promised.

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Not mad at all.” He kissed her, softly and gently, breathing her in. “But are you sure?”

  “You make it pretty hard to be sure,” she told him, pressing against him and kissing him again, with more urgency this time, gripping his body as if it were a life preserver, keeping her afloat. “Really hard.”

  There was more kissing.

  And then she was gone.

  “Harper?” he whispered.

  The room was dark, and she could see only a bare outline of his figure, carved out by a shaft of moonlight filtering through the window. She pressed herself against him, running her hands across his face, his skin, trying to memorize the shape of his body, the feel of it beneath her fingers.

  “Harper, you know I—with Kaia—”

  “I know,” she said quietly, stopping him with a kiss. Th
e last thing she wanted to hear about, think about, was Kaia. Adam with Kaia. Not here—not now.

  “I just want you to know,” he pressed on, “it was just that once—and this is the first time with …” He stopped and rolled over on his side, his face inches from hers. He brushed a lock of hair away from her eyes. “It’s different with you.”

  “Adam, you don’t have to do this. We can just—”

  “No, I need to say this,” he told her, “before we—I need you to know that … how much I … I’ve never known anyone like you, Harper. You’re the only person in my life I can always count on—”

  “You know I’ll always be there for you,” she reminded him. “Believe me.”

  “I believe everything you say, Gracie, because I know you’re the one person who always tells me the truth. Promise me you always will.”

  “Oh, Adam …” She grabbed him then and kissed him, hard, wrapping his arms around her and pressing herself against his bare skin. She was done talking. And it was a good thing—because the next words out of her mouth would have been a lie.

  “Yo, dude, you in there?”

  The loud voice was quickly followed by a pounding on the door and some raucous laughter. Harper quickly rolled away from him, and Adam groaned in frustration. The guys. Great. Their timing was just impeccable.

  “Go away!” Adam shouted, grabbing his sneaker off the floor and throwing it toward the door. “I’m busy.”

  “Getting busy is more like it,” another voice called out.

  “Asses,” Adam muttered. He turned toward Harper in apology. “Just give me a second and I’ll deal with this,” he promised, eager to get back to what they’d barely started.

  “You know what?” she gave him a quick peck on the lips and hopped out of bed, pulling the sheet around herself. “Let me.”

  Harper strode toward the door, but froze midway there when the shouting started up again.

  “You got Grace in there, dude?”

  “She’ll show you a good time—and I should know!”

  “You got me to thank, bro. I taught her everything she knows.”

  “Just don’t hog her. Leave some for the rest of us!”

  Adam leaped out of bed and stormed past Harper, flinging open the door.

  “Get the hell out of here,” he growled, leveling a fist at the cluster of grinning idiots.

  “Dude, chill, we’re just having some fun with you.”

  “Fun’s over,” he said shortly, and swung the door shut in their faces. “They’re drunk,” he told Harper, feeling like he needed to apologize, as if this were all somehow his fault. “Come on,” he urged her. She was still standing frozen in the middle of the floor. “Let’s go back to bed.”

  They climbed onto the soft mattress and swaddled themselves in the downy comforter, and Adam again took her in his arms.

  “Ad, those things they said,” Harper began hesitantly, in a tentative and unfamiliar voice.

  “Shh, it doesn’t matter,” he promised her. “Nothing’s changed—we’re still here, together. I still want you.”

  And he did, desperately.

  But he couldn’t stop hearing their words, their laughter. He couldn’t focus. And as he eased himself on top of her, ready to take their relationship to the next level, to start them off on a new beginning, he discovered—to his horror and humiliation—that he just couldn’t.

  Kane closed the door softly behind Beth—then gave it a sharp kick for good measure. What had been the point of finagling the single room? Of talking her into coming in the first place? For God s sake, it wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet—was he supposed to just be a good boy and go to sleep?

  Calm down, he told himself. He didn’t like exposing too much of his emotions, even in private. He was nothing without his poker face, and practice made perfect.

  Speaking of poker …

  He’d overheard some of the staff talking about a weekly poker game, and had no doubt he could talk himself into it.

  He weighed his options.

  Sleep? Not so much an option as a failure.

  Partying with his peers in some smoky, overcrowded room that, by this point, probably had sweat on the walls and vomit on the floor? Kane didn’t associate with these losers when they were in town—and he saw no reason to make an exception for their change in zip code.

  Poker it was.

  He crept through the lounge on his way to the staff quarters, wary of running into their absentee chaperone.

  Turns out his instincts were half right: Jack Powell was in the lounge, but judging from the blonde precariously balanced on his lap, nibbling his ear, he wasn’t going to be doing much chaperoning anytime soon.

  Kane shook his head in admiration—finally, a member of the Haven High teaching staff he could look up to.

  Newly inspired, he went off in search of some fun of his own. Not too much fun, he reminded himself. After all, he had a girlfriend now—a real one. And that meant no extracurricular activities. If Adam could do it, he could do it.

  As he’d suspected, his charm was more than enough to get him admitted to the back room and then to the poker game—though he supposed waving around a ready wad of cash hadn’t hurt.

  It had been just what he’d expected: dark room, good Scotch, and two beautiful women facing him across the table. Those compact, svelte bodies, hard muscles only highlighting the soft curves … There was only one surprise. Sitting to the right of Amber and Claire was a more familiar face: Harper.

  “What are you doing here?” Kane asked, taking a seat at the makeshift poker table.

  Harper rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask. And you?”

  “I’d say that’s a good policy. Don’t ask and”—Kane glanced at the buxom brunette on his right and the luscious blonde on his left—“don’t tell.”

  “Your deal,” said the guy who’d let him into the game, handing him the cards. “Oh, and did Amber tell you?”

  “Did Amber tell me what?” Kane asked, winking at her.

  “We usually play a warm-up round before we start tossing the money around,” Amber explained. “Just to get us in the mood. Strip poker.” She looked him up and down. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Mind?” He glanced toward Harper, who only smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Trust me, I don’t mind at all.”

  Was she crazy?

  Kaia stared out the dusty window of the pickup truck, wondering if she’d lost her mind. What other excuse could there be for her agreeing to this ridiculous plan?

  A few hours earlier, as she’d half hoped and half feared, Reed had shown up with her cold, greasy pizza. After trading yet another round of insults, she’d challenged him to find some way to alleviate her Grace-induced boredom. He, in turn, had shown up at the end of his shift with a dirty pickup truck and a challenge of his own: Drive off into the middle of nowhere with a skuzzy stranger and hope that his definition of “something interesting to do” wouldn’t land her in the morgue.

  She didn’t even know why she’d called him. So he was hot. Fine. There was no point in denying that. Nor could she deny the fact that when he looked at her, when his eyes burned into her, she trembled.

  But that was irrelevant. It had to be. Kaia Sellers could not involve herself with someone like this Weed, poor, stupid, aimless, and completely unacceptable. Couldn’t, and wouldn’t. And yet …

  And yet, she’d made the call. And when he’d shown up at her door, she’d welcomed him in, hadn’t she? Leaned toward him, so he would smell her perfume. Favored him with a sultry smile.

  And now here she was in the old truck, Reed by her side, speeding through the darkened landscape, the lights of civilization (if Grace qualified) fading into the distance behind them.

  I must be crazy, Kaia thought, unsure whether to be appalled or amused. It was the only possible explanation.

  Crazy was fine—for a night. But whatever happened, Kaia promised herself, one night was all it would ever be. Reed Sawyer could not be allowed into her
life. He didn’t fit. And never would.

  They drove in silence, and when the truck suddenly came to a stop, Reed turned off the engine and got out without a word. Kaia climbed out as well (once it became painfully clear he wasn’t planning on opening the door for her) and looked around in dismay. If this wasn’t the middle of nowhere, surely it was only a stone’s throw away.

  That’s it—he brought me here to kill me, she thought in sudden alarm.

  They were parked on the shoulder of a dusty road that stretched across the flat land until it disappeared into the darkness. Ahead of them sat the massive, hulking frame of a gutted industrial complex, long since abandoned.

  “We’re here?” she asked, masking her increasing panic with the comfortably familiar cloak of disdain.

  He nodded, and hopped up on the hood of the truck.

  “And where is ‘here,’ exactly?”

  “This is Grace Mines,” he explained. “Or used to be. It closed down—then it burned down.”

  “And then what?” she asked, intrigued in spite of herself. She hopped up onto the hood of the truck next to him, looking more closely at the shattered remains of the mine, gleaming in the light of the full moon.

  “Then nothing. Who has the money to do anything about it?” he asked rhetorically. “It’s been like this ever since I can remember. I guess it always will be.”

  Kaia tried to imagine the empty husk before her as it had been in the boom times, teeming with workers, young men seeking their fortune, fathers struggling to support their families, the air filled with the clicking and whirring of machinery. This place had been alive once. And now? Weeds sprouted amid the fallen beams, empty beer cans lay strewn in piles of ash, the jagged glass of the shattered windows splintered the moonlight—now, it was just a corpse. A fallen giant, a dead zone, soon to be reclaimed by the wilderness around it.