by Ella Fields
A tiny pink letter was peeking out of one of the cracks. I looked around, finding a few students lingering, then tucked my lip between my teeth as I unlocked it.
It fluttered to the floor. After shoving my books inside, I picked it up, taking it with me to my next class. My nail flicked it open as I took a seat at the desk beside Daphne, and my heart bottomed out.
Break up with him, or I’ll take something of yours.
Daphne snatched the note before Mr. Roth came inside, her brows gathering as she read it, then looked at me. “Is she talking about Dash?”
I hadn’t even thought of who she might’ve been referring to, but the thought of Kayla and Dash caused everything inside my head and stomach to spin. “I don’t know.”
She ripped it up, then swept the pieces to the floor. “Ignore her. Are you and Byron even going steady?”
The class started to fill, so I just shook my head. We hadn’t labeled what we were doing. In fact, after almost a week of texting daily, I didn’t even hear from Byron last night.
I supposed I could’ve reached out first, but I was still worried I’d come across as needy. Thanks to Dash interrupting us this morning, we’d had less than a minute to say hello.
Steady. If we weren’t going out or dating for real, then what were we doing? Getting to know one another? I guess that’s what it was, which was fine with me, but I had to wonder if I really wanted to take this thing further with Byron.
Just then, he walked inside the classroom, right by two of his teammates, and took the seat directly in front of me. “Hey, Pegs.”
I smiled, and Mr. Roth dumped his briefcase on his desk. “All right, sit down, sit down.”
My eyes stayed glued to the back of Byron’s head as the note, whatever it was we were doing, and Dash clouded my head like a bad fog.
Maybe I’d done something. Maybe he was sick of trying to vie for my attention. Or maybe, I’d been making myself too available to him. I resolved to talk to Daphne about it at lunch.
Daphne had told me if we weren’t going steady, then I needed to pull back. Let him work for it. Whatever that meant.
So even though I was dying to message Byron and check if everything was okay and ask him what was happening between us, I didn’t. I liked him, sure, but I wasn’t next-level obsessed. I could wait him out.
I snatched the popcorn bowl to put back on my side of the bed. My eyes were on the TV as White Walkers descended on the Wall, but my mind roamed anywhere and everywhere else.
Maybe it’d be like last time, and I’d just show up at the party, and we’d eventually run into each other?
I hoped not. We might not be able to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, but I thought we were at the stage of getting to know each other where he’d at least make plans with me.
Dash’s face interrupted as he loomed above me. “For fuck’s sake, are you high?”
I blinked up at him. “What? No.” I laughed then. “Wait, were you just singing Manfred Mann?”
“You wouldn’t even need to ask that if you’d quit daydreaming for one damn minute.”
His eyes were hard, jaw set, and I poked him in the cheek. “Don’t be mad.”
His dimple appeared, his eyes dropping to my mouth. “Wanna practice again?”
I pushed him off me. “I’m good, thanks.”
Dash laid on his side, his head in his hand, and his shirt riding over his waist. “You don’t think you need to?”
“I’ve kissed him already.”
His jaw clenched. “When?”
“After our date, in the parking lot.” I shoved another handful of popcorn into my mouth.
Dash watched me, silent for some minutes, then said, “Just once?”
“Yeah.” I leaned up on my elbows to grab my water bottle, popping the top and taking a long sip.
His voice was scratchy as he asked, “Have you kissed him again since?”
I shook my head. “No, but I think he might try again this Friday.”
More silence.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I slammed my drink down on the nightstand. “Ugh, just speak.”
Dash smirked. “Just saying, how do you know you’re ready for what comes next if you’ve only kissed him once?”
“Are you being serious right now?” I couldn’t tell because his expression wasn’t giving anything away.
“Deadly. You need my training as much as you need your next breath, and you know it.”
I stared at his mouth, remembering the velvety touch of it on mine. Kissing him didn’t suck, and it didn’t make things awkward, but the thought of doing so now felt wrong in different ways.
“Wouldn’t that be cheating in a sense?”
He scoffed. “He’s an eighteen-year-old guy who hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend. As far as I know. Who’s to say he’s not hooking up with other people?” Dash softened his next words. “He did just get out of a long-term relationship, Pegs.”
The whole “he’s a guy” thing didn’t fly with me. Dash was right, though. Byron hadn’t promised me anything, and he hadn’t said he wasn’t seeing other people. He hadn’t even hinted at it. I swallowed the sting that tried to swell my throat.
“It feels wrong,” I said, planting a hand on his chest when he drifted closer.
His hand wrapped around mine. “That makes it even better.” His face hovered over mine, giving me a chance to stop this, but I didn’t.
His gaze narrowed, sharpening the bright blue of his eyes. My heart kicked faster, sprinting as his nose brushed mine and strands of his hair rained down to lick at my forehead.
My eyes closed at the first glide of our skin, and my stomach ceased knotting when his bottom lip fitted itself between my lips. Gentle, caressing, hypnotizing strokes had my body pliant and growing warm as his hand left my cheek and started drifting down my body to my hip.
When my mouth opened farther, and my tongue stroked hesitantly at the underside of his top lip, he groaned. “Good, that’s so good.”
I did it again, swiping a little deeper, and his teeth caught my tongue, gently scraping over it. I fizzed and faded beneath him, a desperate sound leaving me.
“Pegs.” Mom knocked, and Dash flew to the other side of the bed. “Is Dash staying for dinner?”
She opened the door as I stuffed a heap of popcorn into my mouth.
Setting a basket of clean clothes on the floor, she looked over at us, her lips puckering. “Don’t tell me you’ve filled up on junk the one night I actually decide to cook.”
“I’ve always got room for your cooking, Peeny.”
Dash had called her that since he started talking, and ever the sucker for it, Mom smiled. “You’d better.” She shut the door, and the popcorn sprayed out of my mouth as we both rolled over and started laughing.
Peggy
I rounded the corner, dropping my hall pass as I saw a couple making out against the wall.
“Such a dirty fucking girl,” Lars said against Daphne’s neck.
My eyes almost popped out of my head, a small squeak escaping when I saw where his hand was. Under her skirt.
Lazily, as if he didn’t even care who was watching, his head rose, and Daphne opened her eyes, her breasts straining against her blouse, and the top buttons undone.
I scrambled to grab my pass, gesturing with it down the hall. “Um, pee break.”
Daphne grinned. “Run along then.”
I nodded, continuing past them.
After I did my business, I decided against splashing water on my flushed cheeks. Instead, I stared at my reflection, waiting for them to cool.
The humidity had ruined my attempt to straighten my hair, but it sat a little longer, waves skimming past my shoulders, thanks to the effort.
I patted the remaining drops of water from my hands, then flipped my head forward and gathered it all into a small ponytail, using the rainbow scrunchy I had around my wrist.
I suppose Lars and Daphne weren’t exactly a secret, but
that was the first time I’d actually seen them together.
Lars was here on a scholarship, and most people thought it was due to his mom dating the principal. Some would say Daphne was slumming it, including herself, and even though Willa and I had pushed, she still wouldn’t divulge much about their relationship.
If you could call what they did a relationship. Who was I to know? One and a half dates and I was still clueless about everything.
Yet as I remembered the sight of his hand on her thigh, I knew I didn’t want to be. My cheeks threatened to flush again as I thought of someone touching me that way while whispering wicked things into my ear. I marched out of the bathroom, taking the other hallway back to class even though it was the long way around.
Dash eyed me behind the thick frames of his glasses, slouched low in his seat with a pen hanging between his teeth as I skimmed past the tables to my seat next to his.
“What’s up with you?” he asked when I kept doodling circles on the page instead of reading the five pages instructed by the teacher.
“Hmm?”
“You went to the toilet, right?”
I withheld a laugh. “Yes.”
“Well, what the hell happened in there that’s making you draw like a four-year-old again?”
“Mr. Thane,” Mrs. Cruthers said from behind her desk. “Eyes on your own table.”
With one last withering look at me, Dash did as he was told, but I knew he was still waiting for an explanation.
When someone started coughing down the front, I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I saw Daphne and Lars.”
His brows pulled in as he tipped his head toward me. “And?” When I felt my cheeks begin to color, he grinned, his eyes glinting. “Oh, you saw them fucking around.”
“Mr. Thane. Care to share what you’re talking about with the class?”
Dash pursed his lips in thought. “That’s probably not a good idea, so I’m gonna have to say no.”
Mrs. Cruthers stabbed a finger at the door. “Outside. You can finish your reading in the hall.”
Dash was still grinning as he stood and grabbed his things. “Later, Freckles.”
He didn’t see me later, though. I peeked around the cafeteria but couldn’t see him.
I gave up my search and plowed into my leftover macaroni.
“What’s up with you?” Willa asked.
“Peggy Sue caught me and Lars in the hallway.” Daphne took a bite out of her burger.
“In the hallway?” Willa asked a smidge too loud.
“Shh. Shit.” Daphne picked some lettuce from her lip, tossing it to the table with a splat. “Sometimes we meet up really quick. It’s not a big deal.”
I just remembered. “There are cameras.”
“Not in every corner.” Daphne winked.
I looked over at the table of cheerleaders, noticing Kayla was actually eating and not staring death daggers at me for the first time this week. Which could be because Byron hadn’t shown today. “Do you miss your old friends?”
Daphne scoffed. “No, but the few who are real still talk to me. When queen Mcbitch face isn’t around, of course.”
“That makes them real?”
She twisted her lips. “Good point. Now they’re on my shit list too.”
My eyes bulged. “Ah …”
Waving a hand, she snatched a napkin, patting her mouth. “Don’t give me that.”
“What?”
“That face you make when you think you’ve done something wrong.”
Willa laughed as Daphne tried to imitate my supposed face, her eyebrows dropping low and her eyes widening.
I flipped them off. “Shut up.”
They cackled harder.
Lunch ended, and we headed to our respective classes. The afternoon dragged, and I found my mind swirling in dizzying circles. Where was Byron? I could text him and ask. Why did what I saw in the hall still leave a lingering curiosity? It felt kind of weird, being that they were my friends.
Dash was waiting for me, smoking beside his car as the teacher on duty debated whether to walk over and ask him to put it out.
I got there before he could and jumped inside, thankful Dash had already started the engine. Cool air blew over my arms. Through the window, Dash watched me redo my hair, a cloud of smoke blurring the glass for a moment.
Once inside, he was quiet, fingers tapping the wheel as some hardcore band blared from his speakers. When he neared the bridge, I decided I didn’t want to go straight home.
I turned the volume down. “Show me your new TV?” Apparently, he’d gotten one for his birthday at the start of summer. I didn’t typically go to his house, but it wasn’t by choice. He was just always showing up at mine before I could ever consider it.
He peeked over at me, then shrugged, turning around and heading toward the bay.
Dash’s house was a weird mix of old meets new architecture. Sloping and flat rooftops met provincial-styled columns in various shades of cream and dull blue. In the meticulously kept gardens, hedges intermingled with May’s favorite flowers, roses, and a gurgling fountain sat in the middle of the pink stoned circular drive. When we were kids, we’d TP it for Halloween or draw moustaches on the statue of the naked man, who spewed water from his mouth.
“It’s still the most ridiculous fountain I’ve ever seen.”
“I think its dick fell off.” Dash hit the brakes, turned off the ignition, and jumped out.
“You’re joking.” I shut the door, leaving my bag in the car as I traipsed over to the fountain.
“Looks like Emanuel glued it back on.”
Sure enough, it looked as if a line of clear glue sat over its shaft. I snorted, then bent low to drag my fingers through the cool water.
Dash tugged at a piece of my hair. “It’s hotter than Satan’s scraped up asshole out here. Let’s go.”
“You say the nicest things.”
Dash huffed, holding the door open for me, which shocked me a little.
“Dash, oh—hi Peggy.” May was standing at the end of the hall, holding a martini in one hand and her sunglasses in the other.
“Hey, how are you?”
“Good, good.” An awkward pause settled as she stared at me, and I kicked off my boots, not to be nice, but more for something to do. “How’s your mother?”
“Great, thanks for asking.”
Dash cleared his throat. “Why don’t you go drink that martini, Mother?”
May blinked, then forced a smile. “Yes, why don’t I?” She took a sip, then disappeared.
“Nosy fucking woman,” Dash said as we traversed one of the long halls to his room, and then another hall, and then stopped at the last door on the left.
“You’re like a cynical old man,” I said as he slammed the door behind us. “With the slippers and cat to match.”
“What? I am fucking not.”
I raised a brow at Church, who was asleep on said slippers.
“Don’t talk shit about Church.”
His room was bedecked in dark browns and grays, and having the drapes pulled shut gave it a modern dungeon-esque feel.
Framed records hung on the dark brown walls. The Rolling Stones, Arctic Monkeys, and varying other bands’ records were signed and protected by a sheet of glass. He’d gotten tickets to see the Arctic Monkeys live for his seventeenth and had taken me with him. His dad had scored the signed record from the Stones.
Half a dozen boots of the same design in different shades of black and gray littered the floor, hiding beneath jeans, T-shirts, ties, his leather jacket, empty chip wrappers, and textbooks.
And then there was the giant TV hanging from the wall opposite his giant king-size bed, the latter sitting low to the ground.
“How do you even watch that?” I asked.
“With great ease.” He stripped out of his blazer, tossing it on the brown leather sofa in the corner.
“It’s so fucking big.”
“That’s what she said.”
I
coughed out a laugh, then lowered to his bed, my school skirt fanning up around my thighs.
“You’re curious, aren’t you?”
“About?” I pretended to take an interest in my nails.
The bed dipped, and then his voice was directly behind me. “Lie back.”
“We don’t need to—”
“Cut the bullshit excuses, Freckles. We know why you wanted to come over, and it wasn’t to see my TV. Lie back.”
I did, though I was tense, and a nervous breath sat stuck in my throat.
“Good,” he whispered when my back settled against his chest. His hands brushed down my arms, rubbing until he could feel my breathing steady. “What exactly did you see?”
We both knew what he was talking about, so I didn’t bother pretending otherwise. My eyes had shut. The gentle touch of his hands lulling my body to relax and meld into his. “Well, he was kissing her.”
A swift caress had my ponytail shifting, warm breath heating my neck. “Where?”
“Her mouth and …” I swallowed when his lips grazed my neck. “Yes, there.”
“What else?” I could’ve imagined it, but I swore his voice turned huskier.
“His hand was up her …” I licked my lips as his rubbed over the curve between my shoulder and neck. “Her …” I stopped, a gasp leaving me when I felt his other hand bunch up my skirt. “Skirt.” My exhale tumbled out of me when the pads of his fingers hit my thigh.
“What do you think he was touching?” The words were nothing but heated air, barely audible, and my stomach flooded with drunk bees, buzzing and flipping.
“Her … her …” Oh God, I couldn’t even say it, but he didn’t force me. He tilted my head back with his fingers at my chin, his mouth crashed down on mine, and his other hand climbed between my parted legs.
“Wider,” he rasped, and I shifted them apart even more. “Good. And I believe the word you were looking for is cunt, pussy, vag—”
I shoved my tongue inside his mouth, and he groaned, meeting me sweep for breathless sweep. “Do it,” I said on a pleading exhale, pulling at his lip with my teeth. “Please.”
His eyes opened, hooded and dilated. Then, keeping them on me as we breathed each other’s next breaths, his finger skimmed over the wet patch of my panties.
