Spark

by Brigid Kemmerer

  “Layne—”

  “He didn’t smell like beer. He wasn’t slurring his words. Or do you mean, he had to be drunk off his ass to be into someone like—”

  “Hey.” His voice was sharper than he intended, but it got her to shut up. God, she was crazy if she thought someone would have to be drunk to take a second glance at her. The way she was sitting had the skirt splayed across her lap, leaving a long expanse of spandexed leg stretching into the darkness. Anger flushed her cheeks, and curls of hair fell along one shoulder. Her eyes caught the starlight, making him want to—

  “What?” she demanded.

  Gabriel jerked his eyes away. He wanted to tell her everything he was thinking, how she looked striking right now, beautiful in the darkness. How he wished he’d known she would be at the party. How he would have been dragging Hunter out of the car instead of the other way around.

  He brought his cup to his lips. “Nothing.”

  She scowled out at the parking lot. “So is this like your place?”

  “My place?”

  “Where you bring girls.”

  “Yes. I bring girls to this run-down parking lot all the time.” He gestured with his cup. “I have a sign-up sheet nailed to that tree. Now that you mention it”—he glanced at his watch—“we should probably wrap this up.”

  Her eyes were intense, challenging, fixed on his. “Do you have a five-minute limit before you start getting mean?”

  “I don’t know, Layne. Do you have a five-minute limit before you start getting defensive?”

  She clamped her mouth shut and turned to face the darkness.

  As usual, he didn’t know if he owed her an apology—or deserved one.

  He picked at the lid of his cup. “Nicky and I come out here sometimes,” he said. “I’ve never brought a girl here.”

  “Never?” Her voice was some combination of skeptical and hopeful.

  “What do you think, that I’m some kind of thug player who’ll screw anything in a skirt?”

  She didn’t answer, and that was answer enough.

  “Wow,” he said. “I can’t believe you think I’d beat the shit out of Ryan Stacey just to drag you to the middle of nowhere so I could—”

  “Hey.” Her eyes flashed up to his. “Now who’s defensive?”

  “Touché.”

  They sat in silence for a while, until the crickets were deafening, and Gabriel began to wonder if he should just offer to drive her home.

  “It’s funny,” she said quietly. “You were the first person I talked to this morning, and you’ll probably be the last I talk to tonight.”

  This morning. It felt like a lifetime ago. He wondered if she had any idea that Ryan Stacey had been trapping her little brother inside a locker after scrawling insults all over his chest.

  I let him kiss me.

  No. She couldn’t possibly know.

  “Tell me your secrets,” she said.

  He looked up. “My secrets?”

  Layne drew her legs up to sit cross-legged on the tailgate, her hands in her lap. It put half her face in light, half in shadow, like a challenging angel trying to decide between good and evil. “You said yesterday that any time someone comes close to figuring you out, you pick a fight. You did it this morning in the woods, and you’re doing it now. If you’re not this thug player who can’t pass math, then what are you hiding?”

  “What are you hiding?”

  “I asked first.”

  He looked out at the night again—but his heart was running a marathon in his chest. “You already know Nick was taking my tests for me.”

  She cocked her head to the side and gave a little shrug. “That’s not even a secret. That’s like me saying, I have a deaf little brother.”

  Gabriel shrugged. Truths were clawing at his lips, begging to escape. God, to tell someone.

  No way. Like he could sit here, trapped on the tailgate, and spill everything. Gee, well, I can control fire. Oh, and those articles in the paper? They’re talking about me. And maybe I should mention that I’ve been thinking about your arms around me all day. Or how I’ve wanted to kiss you for days, but right now that would make me no better than Ryan Stacey . . .

  Yeah, that would be great. He drew a choking breath and fought for words.

  “How about,” she said, her voice careful, “I get a question, then you get a question.”

  That made him smile. “Like truth or dare?”

  She blushed and her eyes dropped. “I’ve never played that.”

  “Come on, Layne, kids play that when they’re ten.”

  “Not all kids.”

  She could be so fierce one minute, yet so innocent the next, and it was seriously making him crazy. “All right, go. Truth.”

  “I told you I don’t know how to play.”

  Gabriel leaned in and whispered, “The name of the game might be a giveaway.”

  Her eyes flicked up, sparking with defiance, and for a breathless moment he regretted not choosing dare.

  “Truth,” she said. “Why did you start cheating in math?”

  At least that slammed the brakes on his train of thought. “Because I stopped passing. In seventh grade.”

  “When your parents died.” Her voice was tentative, but it wasn’t a question.

  “Yeah. I’d never been an A student or anything, but after that . . . I didn’t even want to be at school, much less do any work.” He shrugged and leaned against the side of the tailgate to look at her. “I was in danger of being held back, and things were already so messed up. Nick started doing it for me, just to get us through the year.”

  But Gabriel remembered that first week of eighth grade, when he’d decided he was done cheating, that he didn’t need his brother’s help. He’d struggled to figure out how to solve every problem. Losing three months to his family mess, then another three to summer hadn’t exactly set him up to start pre-algebra. But he’d been ready to put his brain to a task, to do something normal, something routine, when so much of his life wasn’t.

  Then Nick had come into his room with an identical paper. “Here,” he’d said, and his voice had been almost proud. “I did your math.”

  Gabriel glanced across at Layne, who was still waiting, still listening. “Nick wasn’t into sports or anything. He needed to be doing something, to be helping. To have a purpose. I didn’t want to take it away from him.” He snorted. “Christ, that sounds lame.”

  “No,” she said. “No, I think I get it.”

  “At first I would do the work and throw it away. But I hated lying to him, so I stopped. Then I hit high school and made varsity freshman year, and it was just one less class to worry about. Now I’m so far behind that I don’t think I’ll ever make up the difference.”

  “I’ll help you,” she said.

  “You can try.” He almost reached out to push the hair back from her face. “Your turn.”

  She held his eyes. “Truth.”

  “How did Taylor get you to that party, really?” He gave her a quick once-over. “Especially looking like that.”

  She shifted to look out at the darkness. “I changed my mind. Dare.”

  Gabriel slid his cell phone out of his pocket and held it out. “Okay. Here. I dare you to call your father and tell him you’re sitting in a dark parking lot with me.”

  “Ooooh.” She glared up at him without any real malice. “I don’t think I like this game.”

  He smiled. “Come on, pony up.”

  She folded her arms across her stomach and sighed. Her voice came out very small, warring with the crickets and water. “Taylor told me that she’d talked to you and that you hoped to see me there. My friend Kara picked my clothes.”

  Oh.

  Suddenly he felt like he’d had a hand in this, though he hadn’t known anything about it. “Layne,” he said. “Taylor never talked to me. I swear—”

  “I know! I figured it out, okay? That’s why I feel like such an idiot.”

  Navigating this conversat
ion made controlling fire seem easy. “But I would have—”

  “Don’t. Please don’t.”

  “Layne, let me—”

  “Your turn!”

  He drew back and sighed. “Truth.”

  “How did your parents die?”

  The words felt like a weapon, as if she were trying to hurt him for asking her something that obviously left her off balance. But his parents’ deaths were just another bolt of guilt that struck him on a daily basis.

  “In a fire,” he said flatly. “They were arguing with the parents of some kids who used to hassle us. The house burned down. Not everyone got out.”

  She stared at him for the longest moment. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. Why would I make that up?”

  Her mouth worked like she wanted to say something, but the words couldn’t quite make it out. He knew that expression, and he couldn’t take one more ounce of pity. So he made his voice hard. “Your turn.”

  She licked her lips. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Truth.”

  He wanted to fire an arrow back, something to make her flinch, too. “Why did Ryan Stacey say you were deformed?”

  Of course it did make her flinch, but it made him feel like an ass.

  She didn’t look at him, but she answered. “Because I have scars all the way up the right side of my body.”

  “Yeah? From what?”

  “From a house fire,” she said. “My house burned down when I was five.”

  Shit.

  Now he was the one staring. “Layne,” he ground out. “Layne, I’m—”

  “I really don’t like this game.” Her legs swung off the tailgate, and her feet crunched on the rough pavement.

  “Stop,” he said. “Layne—”

  “See, Gabriel?” she called over her shoulder. “I’m not perfect either, right?”

  Then she was running, and the darkness swallowed her up.

  CHAPTER 24

  The short skirt made for easy running. The scent of grass and water was in Layne’s nose, and she really had no idea where she was going, except away. The sound of her breath filled her ears, ragged and almost sobbing. Thank god the parking lot was empty, because she couldn’t see a thing except for the industrial plants across the water. Pavement gritted beneath her boots, then grass as she stumbled and almost missed a curb.

  She couldn’t believe she’d told Gabriel about the fire.

  Really, like it mattered. Her scars would be all over the Internet tomorrow.

  She’d kept a secret for ten years, and now everyone knew.

  “Layne. Stop.”

  Of course he’d follow. He didn’t even sound breathless. “Go away,” she yelled. “I’ll call my dad to come get me. Just—”

  The ground went out from under her. She sucked in a breath, flailing for balance. Arms came around her waist from behind, jerking her back, keeping her feet in the air.

  She fought, feeling his chest at her back, but he was too strong.

  “Damn it,” he said, his voice strained. “Do you want to go in the water?”

  That forced her still. Red and white lights still hung in the distance, warring with the stars. Now that she wasn’t running, the sound of waves hitting the rocks was unmistakable.

  And right in front of her.

  “The water?” she said numbly.

  He put her feet on the ground, but he didn’t let her go. “Yeah. Water. Did you miss the part where I said we’re parked on a peninsula?”

  “Wow,” she whispered. Talk about a night going from bad to worse.

  “If I let you go, are you going to take off again?”

  She shook her head. But she didn’t want him to let her go, either.

  He did anyway. “You’re lucky you didn’t break an ankle.”

  “Thanks.” She still hadn’t turned to face him. “For catching me.” Then she added, “And for punching Ryan. I should have thanked you for that before.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to thank me for that. He’s lucky I left the party to run after you.”

  The heat in his voice made her shiver. She’d seen blood on Ryan’s face.

  But she couldn’t summon the righteous indignation she’d felt in the hallway when Gabriel had hassled those bullies. The only things at risk that day had been school papers and hurt feelings. She had no idea what Ryan had planned—or what else Taylor had paid him for—but she wasn’t naïve enough to think he would have stopped there.

  “Are you cold?” said Gabriel. He hadn’t stepped back, but he wasn’t close enough to touch anymore. “There’s a fleece blanket in the car.”

  Layne shook her head and turned away, keeping her eyes on the lights across the water. She wondered if he was thinking about her scars. For the first time, she understood that expression about the gorilla in the corner of the room. She’d always thought being burned in a house fire was one of the worst possible things that could ever happen. Then he went and yanked the rug out from under her, saying his parents had died in one. For some reason it made her feel ridiculous and furious all at once.

  “You know,” he said quietly, “you don’t have to keep running from me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But she did.

  “I might pick fights, but you run.”

  Layne whirled. Starlight traced shadows across his features, and she was glad for the darkness.

  “You’re wrong.” She stepped up and poked him in the chest. “You ran from me on the trail.”

  He knocked her hand away. “Yeah, after you pulled away.”

  He was so close, almost stealing her breath. She fumbled for words. “Well, I didn’t know what you—”

  Gabriel kissed her.

  Thank god his hands were there, catching her arms, because her knees didn’t feel up to the job of keeping her on her feet. He tasted like coffee and caramel and sugar. She’d always imagined he would be rough, but he wasn’t. He was gentle, cautious, drawing at her lips in a way that pulled a sound from her throat and made her want to press up against him.

  Oh. This was what all the fuss was about.

  His hands slid up her arms to find her face, his fingers tangling in her hair. His kiss grew more insistent, parting her lips. At the first brush of his tongue, she gasped and knew her knees were going to give out.

  But then Gabriel stepped back, his hands braced on her shoulders. She was left shaking there in the middle of the path, wind coming off the water to whip through the space between them.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was rough, almost ashamed. “I didn’t think . . . after the way that asshole treated you—”

  She shook her head fiercely. “No—it’s fine—”

  “I should have waited.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  Her breath stumbled when the words escaped, and she felt her cheeks burn.

  But he smiled. “Yeah?”

  She couldn’t move. Right then, she realized he’d been right, about the running. She wanted to run, before his hold on her heart got any tighter.

  He leaned closer, until she could see his eyes. The smile was gone. “Do you want me to let you go?”

  No. Never. She closed her eyes and nodded.

  A hesitation, then, “I think you’re lying.”

  She was. But in what freakish world would a guy like Gabriel Merrick be standing with her in the dark, at the water’s edge, sharing kisses and secrets?

  He closed that space between them again, until the line of his body just brushed hers. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Do you want me to let you go?” he said again.

  She swallowed. “No.”

  He dropped his head and ran his lips along the edge of her jaw, and the warmth of his breath made her shiver and lean into him. His hands slid down her arms to catch her waist.

  She froze and grabbed his wrists.

  He went still and spoke against her skin. “Does it hurt?”

  Layne shook her head, feeling fire on her cheeks
for an entirely different reason. She kept hearing Ryan’s voice. She’s all deformed under there.

  God, she hated him. Them. Everyone.

  Don’t cry. Don’t.

  But her emotions were all over the place, and she could barely keep them contained. She didn’t even realize Gabriel had pulled her along the path until she felt wood planks against the backs of her knees and he was saying, “Sit.”

  A bench. She sat. The wood felt rough through her tights, but sturdy. The tears had held back so far, and she said a quick prayer of thanks.

  “You should probably take me home,” she said.

  He leaned in to brush the hair back from her face, and it felt so good that she wanted to catch his hand and hold it there. But she didn’t.

  “Do you really want me to?” he said.

  No, she didn’t. She shook her head and looked out at the inky water.

  He leaned closer. “Want to play more truth or dare?”

  I dare you to kiss me like that again.

  “Truth,” she whispered.

  “Truth. Hmm.” He stroked his thumb against her mouth, then brushed his lips against her cheek, moving to kiss the curve of her ear. “Who’s a better kisser? Me or jerkoff Stacey?”

  It was so unexpected that she burst out laughing. “You,” she said. “Ugh, he was all slobbery and—”

  “Okay, okay, don’t need the visual.” He paused. “Truth.”

  She sobered. “Do you think I’m a freak?”

  “No.” He was playing with the edge of her turtleneck now, running his finger along her neck in a way that made her wish she’d said to hell with the scars and had worn a tank top.

  But then she caught his hand again. “Don’t you care?”

  “Care?”

  Anger had her shifting on the bench, ready to unleash the rage she should have poured into that idiot by the pool. “That I’m all deformed?”

  “I think you’re beautiful,” he said. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day you fixed my test, when you stood up to me in the hallway.”

  She brushed his hand away. “You have not.”

  “Yes. I have. I didn’t even tell Nicky about you, and I tell him everything.” He paused, and his voice found an edge. “Almost everything.”

  Layne studied his profile in the darkness. He’d told her this morning that he and his twin weren’t speaking. She wondered what had happened there.