by L V Chase
I pretend to be interested in my dress, running my hand over the different paint splotches. I pretend to pluck a hair off of it. I pretend nothing happened earlier. If this were the Oscars, I’d be the one walking on that stage.
When I look up again, he’s looking over at one of the other Homecoming Queen contestants. I shift my gaze away, but I land on Aurora. She’s looking between Grayson and me. Her frown curves down like a bent tree branch.
More shit.
I turn towards Jay. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Already?” he asks. “There’s still another half hour before it’s over.”
“I know, but it feels like it’s over anyway,” I say. “I got up early today, and I’m just ready to go.”
I careless glance over at Grayson. Jay follows my gaze.
“Sure,” he says. “I just need to take care of something first.”
He starts moving before I can stop him. I watch him walking up to Grayson, who’s watching me. I start following him, but Aurora cuts in front of me. I force a smile.
“Congratulations, Aurora,” I say. “Excuse me, I—"
“Thank you.” She makes a small curtsy. “But I owe you an apology. I didn’t know you had to make your own dress with, ah, limited resources. I could have lent you a dress. They might be a little tight on you, but some minor adjustments could make it work.”
I run my tongue over my teeth, trying hard to not bite down on her bait. “That’s so kind of you.”
I watch Grayson and Jay talk shortly before they both walk towards the entrance and leave the stadium.
“Cinnamon, I hear a lot of people have been sneaking liquor in,” she says. “You shouldn’t have come. You know how dangerous it is for an alcoholic to be near alcohol.”
“And you should stay away from the toilets,” I say, “I know how addicted you are to spewing stupid shit.”
Her eyes narrow. “Bitch, get drunk and drive back to your trailer park.”
Flashes of my mother’s wrecked car.
Flashes of my mother in prison.
Flashes of rage.
My hand snaps forward, hitting her across the face. She lurches back. I grab her by her hair, yanking her forward. She claws at me, her manicured nails scraping at my face and arms. I wrench her down by her hair before slamming my fist into her cheek. She falls onto the floor.
Good.
She kicks at me, her stiletto slicing against the side of my leg. I reach down, grabbing for her, and dragging her back up. The voice booms from above.
“Hey, hey, hey! Ladies and gentlemen! The Homecoming Queen is going full MMA. Or getting her ass beat. We’ll soon see!”
I pull away as the lights shine down on us. We’re up on the Jumbotron, too. The DJ’s stopped playing music, and he’s pointing to us as he continues his commentary.
“Oh, she’s rising from the dead, she’s going to—"
I turn just as Aurora grabs onto me, jerking me down beside her. Her fist frantically tries to find me, but it’s not much better than a slap. I strike her across the face before grabbing her, pinning her to the floor with her arms trapped underneath my knees. I hit her as hard as I can. Spit flies out of her mouth.
I pull my arm back again. Two pairs of hands grab onto me, dragging me off of her. Krystal and Chelsea pull me a couple of feet away. I try to shake them both off, but Layla slugs me. I stumble back. She hits me again. I manage to shake off Chelsea’s grip, but she grabs me again every time Layla hits me.
I taste blood when Layla hits me across the face.
When they let me go, I fall to my knees. Aurora’s foot comes forward, stomping down on my shoulder and arm. I grab her foot, hooking my finger on part of her stiletto. She stumbles to the floor.
The kicks from her entourage rain down. I struggle to get to my feet, taking a kick to the jaw before stumbling deep enough into the crowd that the hits stop coming. I run to the door.
Tears threaten to spill out my eyes. As I shove open the door, I hear some boy whisper.
“She held her own. Got to give the bitch credit.”
I run as fast as I can. I taste bitter blood.
I’m going to be expelled.
Principal Walsh said I couldn’t get into any more trouble. Attacking Aurora has got to be fairly high on the “trouble” list. They fought dirty and ganged up on me, but I still started it.
My whole body’s a complete mess, and the fight doesn’t even break the top three worst things to happen tonight.
I find my phone, tucked away under my bed. Peer Review will know if I’m expelled before I will. And even if they don’t, the gossip will prepare me for whatever narrative the school’s going to take. Will I be the evil trailer trash that ruined the Homecoming Queen’s night for fun? Or did I do it because I was jealous? Will Aurora be seen as a helpless victim, or will she be a heroine that got the last hit in?
I check the website. The fight is the second piece of gossip on the site, but the first piece—which is getting far more attention—is about Grayson.
GRAYSON VOSS SAVES RENEGADE REEVES FROM EXPULSION. After the fight between Aurora Voss and Cinnamon Reeves, it was fully expected that Reeves would be expelled. But according to sources, Grayson Voss intervened on her behalf to save her from expulsion, and the Principal has honored his request.
Relief. Confusion. I let out a slow breath. What the hell?
He wants to torture me. That’s the only reason he’d try to keep me around, so that I can be his personal punching bag. H ow much more fun is it going to be for him when he can dangle the fact that I slept with him in front of me? He’s not going to let me go that easily.
At the same time, I’m even more indebted to Grayson than ever. I still have a chance to win the Daniel Comstock Art Award. I can still make a future. But now I owe the devil three times over. Fuck.
27
Cin
I clean out my cuts, put cold cloths on my face, and spend the night trying to sleep through the noise of everyone celebrating. A couple of hours after the campus quiets down, I close my eyes. I dream that Grayson and I are having sex, but it ends up on the Jumbotron. The DJ gives a play-by-play. It bothers me, but I’m too flooded with dopamine to pull away from Grayson.
When I wake up the next morning, a wet cloth has soaked through the top of my dress, streaks of blood staining the inside of the skirt. My face feels like tenderized meat.
I pull the cloth off. Somebody knocks on the door, but the last thing I want to do is get up and answer it.
They knock again. I cross my hands over my chest, praying it’s just someone looking for Diana and that they’ll disappear to go find her in one of the other DDDD girls’ rooms.
“Cinnamon!” a woman’s voice calls out. “Open up! You’ve slept long enough.”
I sit up. “Mom?”
“Let me in!”
I stumble onto my feet and pull open the door. My mother walks in like she’s a beauty queen. She grabs me by the face, touching some of the most tender parts, and kisses the top of my head.
“You almost got me when you said you weren’t going to help,” she says. “But you came through. You did good this time.”
“Did I?” I ask. “So, you’re out of jail? I mean, do you have to go back to court?”
“Oh, he didn’t tell you everything?” she asks. “He pulled some strings and paid some of the fines. He made it so I’m only serving community service. Can you believe it? Community service. That Voss boy must have more power and money than Jesus. I don’t know what you did to get him so into you, but you have to seal the deal. First, you have to get him madly in love with you. Treat him like a king, stroke his ego, and—"
“Mom, no,” I say. I take a step away from her. “I’m not—I don’t like Grayson. He’s an asshole. I’d never date him, and I sure as hell wouldn’t do anything more serious.”
“Sweetie.” My mother sits down on Diana’s bed. “He didn’t seem like an asshole when he got your mom out of jail.�
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“He only did it so he could lord it over me.”
“That’s just the way men are.” She shrugs. “Listen. You’re eighteen. You need to look at reality. You’ve never been smart enough to do well at school. Even if you were a good artist, you’d never make a career out of it. What else are you going to do? Beg on the street? Your best asset—that you’re a teenager with a good body—is depreciating. By the time you’re twenty-one, the best men are going to be looking at eighteen-year-olds again. You need to lock somebody down in the next couple of years. And this one’s perfect.”
As my mother checks herself in Diana’s mirror, I can see my future at her age. I’d be a miserable, failed artist whose ego made her think she was better than she was.
“You know, he must like you quite a bit,” my mother says. “It would have taken a lot of bribes to get me out of the DUI charges. He would have given up a lot to do it.”
“He’s also put me through a lot,” I say.
“Boys do that type of thing,” she says, waving away my concern. “It’s just their way to see if you’re worth it. And he’s clearly decided that you are. I bet if you got pregnant, there’s a good chance you could lock it down. We’d hire a lawyer and walk away with a good payout, if nothing else. You know, there was this one guy that offered a million dollars for an abortion and—”
“I’m not getting pregnant,” I say. “And I’m definitely not getting pregnant just to trap him.”
“Cinnamon,” she says. “Come on. What are you going to do after you graduate? Are you even sure you’re going to graduate? I love you, Cin, but you’ve never had any special skills. You never did well in school until you had extra help. Your choices are going to come down between nabbing a rich man or becoming a prostitute.”
I rub my bruised cheek, but her words sting even more. The worst part is that I think she’s close to the truth, even if I don’t want to admit it. I never won any awards for anything. Even with help, I had to study twice as long to keep up with others.
My mother happily picks up Diana’s perfume, spraying it on her neck and her wrists. She douses herself in jasmine, pretending she’s the princess in her own story. What would have happened to Cinderella if she never married Prince Charming? She trades in the perfume for vodka and drowns her sorrows. She passes on her wisdom, telling her daughter to not run away from the Prince.
She tells her daughter to get knocked up by the Prince.
28
Grayson
Monday arrives. I manage to avoid Cin for most of the morning, more by chance than any effort on my part. I'm not sure whether I want to see her or not. She'll be there for our psych class, unless I decide to skip.
I don't skip.
She's already in her seat by the time I arrive. She's in ripped jeans and an oversized gray tee, like she's trying to disappear into her clothes. When I step closer, she turns away quickly, focusing on drawing circles inside her notebook.
There's no point confusing her, or pretending that things are different from what they are. I take a seat next to her desk and face forward, not giving her the slightest bit of attention or even acknowledgement.
Class starts. It takes fifteen minutes before Cin decides to say something.
"Grayson?" she whispers.
I tap my fingers on the table. I don't reply.
"Grayson," she tries one more time. "Can we talk later?"
The girl sitting in front of Cin, glances backwards, then faces forward again. I lean back in my chair, settling into a more comfortable position.
The rest of the class blurs by until the bell rings. I stay seated, and as Cin walk by, she bends low.
"I knew you were an asshole," she hisses.
I wait until she's gone, then get up and leave the class myself. It has to be like this. I know that she wants something more, but I'm fucking Grayson Voss. I don't do more, definitely not with some random girl off the streets. Hell, I’m doing her a fucking favor. I might be giving her a cold shoulder, but those other girls are vicious, all claws and fangs. They’d tear her apart if they thought she somehow snagged me.
Lunch is mostly uneventful. She's in and out, like usual, taking her food to the damn art room. Probably with Jay, of course. She did go to Homecoming with him, from what some of the other guys told me. As if I care.
Aurora's coming into the dining hall as Cin's leaving. They bump shoulders. I'm not sure if it's an accident or not, but Aurora scowls at her and marches away. Half of Cin's lunch, a red-sauce pasta, is spilled over the front of Cin's shirt. Cin's jaw clenches, then she glares across the dining hall like it's my fault. I look away.
When I look back up, Cin's gone. I spy Aurora staring at me from her place in the lunch line. I think she's smiling.
Aurora's one to hold a grudge. Tuesday rolls around, and there's a group of girls waiting by the front entrance. Aurora's not there, but I recognize them as hers. They're lingering at Rome's statue, pretending to check their phones or touch up their makeup, but something's off. They keep surveying the area, like they’re waiting for someone. Some of them smile and wave to me. I nod back to them, then decide to hang around, browsing my own phone.
A few minutes later, I spot Cin walking down the sidewalk towards the front entrance. She's wearing a pair of tiny black shorts that show off her long, lean legs, and a purple crop top that's more bra than shirt. She has a thin, white button up over the crop top, but the front's completely unbuttoned so that I can see her taut belly and round tits bouncing as she walks.
It's like she's trying to taunt me, remind me what I had a few days ago. I have to admit, it's kind of working. I find myself staring, tracing the outlines of her body from head to toe, then back up. I lick my lips as I see those small shorts hugging her body, thinking back to that night when she was mine.
I want another taste of her, between her thighs, her mouth, her chest, everywhere. God, I want her, but I won't be begging for anything. I won't lose control.
The other girls, five of them in total, surround Cin, blocking her before she can enter the school. They're talking, but I'm too far away to hear. I can guess the general gist of it, as Cin's face flushes darker red. She pushes one of the girls, a tanned brunette, who shoves her back. Another girl lunges and grabs her hand.
I walk over at a brisk pace.
"...don't belong here, trash." The first brunette shoves her again in the chest, and Cin stumbles backward.
They sense me, and freeze, two of them now holding Cin's arms, one for each of them. No teachers are around, or they're smart enough to stay out of the way.
The brunette looks unsure of herself. "Grayson, we're..."
I hold up a hand. "Don't let me interrupt." I nod towards them to continue.
The brunette—Kacy or something, maybe—flashes me a smile. She slaps Cin across the face. Cin swings her head from side to side and tries to break free, but the others are holding her in place.
"We don't want you here." The brunette spits in Cin's face, then grabs her by the hair and yanks Cin's head sharply to the side.
"Look!" One of the others, an anorexic blonde, has been rifling through Cin's backpack. She pulls out a tube of what looks like paint or glue.
"Give that to me," the brunette says with a grin.
"No, give it to me," I say, stepping forward.
The blonde gives me the tube. It's a tube of yellow paint. Cin's not moving now. She's looking at me with those green eyes again, breathing hard. Her fists had been clenched, but they open up.
"Grayson..." Cin begins.
She thinks I'm going to save her again. She's wrong. I can't have everyone thinking that I've got a soft spot, a weakness. Everyone already knows I kept her from getting expelled. I have to make them believe it was because I hate her, not because I want her.
I have to end this, but it won’t be pretty. I'm positive that Aurora set the other girls up for this, and the only way to get Aurora to back off is to make her think that the job’s done. The only w
ay for Aurora to think she's won is for Cin to break.
And I know how to break Cin. I know what her weakness is, the thing that'll burn her up more than anything else right now.
Me.
Still, I hesitate for a second as I meet Cin's gaze. She might have a weakness, but I sure as hell don't. My fist tightens around the tube of paint. Cin must see that I've made up my mind, because she shakes her head softly, her green eyes watering.
"Grayson, no..."
I pop open the tube, turn it upside over her head, and squeeze it half empty. A thick stream of yellow paint oozes out and onto her darker hair. The others girls scream as they laugh and dash backwards to avoid getting any paint on themselves. I toss the used paint tube onto the ground and leave.
"Fuck you!" Cin screams. "Fuck you, Grayson!"
Her voice wavers. She's nearly crying, but she doesn't break. Something hard smacks me on my arm and bounces off. The paint tube. There's a small splotch of yellow on my shirt where Cin hit me. The others gasp. One of the girls starts shrieking at Cin. I could turn around and make her pay for that, but I don't. I enter the school, blocking out the noise.
The next several days are a jumble. Some days I ignore her, especially when she tries to rile me up. Some days I piss her off on purpose, especially when she ignores me. But the more I tell myself that she's just another forgettable face and warm body, the more my brain keeps coming back to her, telling me that I'm a fucking liar.
Dad's getting on my case again about a girl for Brady. Aurora's being a bitch as usual. Eric's off having a threesome with—can you fucking believe it—Lana and Sophie. I mean, I pretty much ghosted them after Homecoming, so I can't quite blame them. Or him. It's not like those two meant anything to me.
It's not like Cin.
By Thursday afternoon, I can't take it anymore. I have to see her, not like in school when I'm, well, the me that I'm supposed to be, but alone. In private. Just the two of us, where we can be naked, raw, honest. I'm not afraid of the truth. I can admit that I'm obsessed with her, but it's something I'm sure I can get over soon. I'm not going to be some pathetic puppy chasing after someone. I just need to see her.
