I sit in the front seat, carefully pulling my hair over my shoulder and smoothing it down. After we finished, he had slid into the driverโs seat and driven us out of the drive-in while I stayed hidden in the back, getting dressed.
Nervous, I bite the corner of my mouth. The truck is definitely moving, and I canโt shake the worry that someone might have seen me climbing in before that. Everyone knows this is his truck, and now heโs driving in silence, not even glancing my way.
Typical. All those sweet nothings and intense feelings vanish once you get what you want, right?
I fasten my seatbelt, glancing back at the now distant drive-in. The road ahead is dark and empty. โI left my purse in Lylaโs car,โ I mumble to myself. โIโll have to come up with a story about why I disappeared and how I got home.โ
โWell, good thing lying comes easily to you.โ
I shoot him a glare, but his playful grin makes me relax a little.
Maybe I donโt need to lie at all. I could just tell her Masen Laurent gave me a ride home. What could go wrong?
I catch sight of the screen on the radio, seeing the name of the song playing from the iPod, and break out in a smile, turning it up.
Masen glances over at me, probably wondering why I look happy. โWhat?โ
I gesture to the radio where Eminemโs โWithout Meโย is playing. โI have a friend. He hates my taste in music,โ I tell him. โI sent him this song once. It led to a life-long argument that still hasnโt been settled.โ
โHe?โ
I lean back in my seat. โIn elementary school, our teachers set us up as pen pals,โ I explain. โWhen the school year ended, though, we just kept writing, and we havenโt stopped. He lives in Thunder Bay, but weโve never met.โ
Masen stares at the road ahead, his chest rising and falling steadily. Heโs not jealous, is he? Misha and I arenโt like that.
โDo you tell him everything?โ he asks, still not looking at me.
I narrow my eyes on him. Maybe he suspects Misha is important to me. Or maybe he wonders if my pen pal is more important than him.
The truth is, Misha is irreplaceable. But even with him, I donโt say everything.
I turn my head to look at the window. โI tell him more than I tell anyone else.โ
โDo you lie to him?โ
โYes,โ I reply honestly. โHe gets the version of me I want to be.โ
For some reason, I feel no shame in admitting that to Masen. With my mom, my sister, my teachers, and my friends, I feel like Iโm judged. Like thereโs something I need to live up to.
Even with Misha, I feel guilt for never putting my money where my mouth is and hoping he never finds out how awful I can be sometimes. I want him to think the best of me.
But with Masen, I almost feel like nothing I could do could make him want me less. Like my imperfections entertain him, my issues complement his issues, and two negatives make a positive, and all that.
โAre you going to write to him and tell him about tonight?โ
I turn to him, a slight smile on my face. โProbably. Would you care?โ He shakes his head, watching the road.
โYou wouldnโt be jealous?โ
โYouโll need your friends,โ he replies.
I arch a brow. What the hell does that mean?
He pulls into my driveway and follows the circle around to the front door and stops. I unfasten my seatbelt and glance at his right hand sitting on his lap. Not even a half hour ago that hand was on my ass.
No one knows how this feels.
I close my eyes, feeling lonely now. Why is he being so distant? Iโm not dumb enough to think weโre a couple nowโI never have unrealistic expectations when it comes to peopleโbut this is awkward. His vibe sucks, like tonight was a mistake or something, and it hurts a little.
Not that Iโd ever admit that to him.
โWellโฆโ I sigh, opening the door. โI guess Iโll see you.โ
I climb out and slam the door behind me, walking toward my house. I hear another door slam shut, and I turn around to see Masen jogging toward me.
I stop.
He touches my face, coming in close and looking down at me. โWhatโs his name?โ
โWho?โ
He hovers close, his lips an inch from mine. โYour pen pal.โ
His breath lingers on my lips, and I open my mouth just a little in anticipation for him. God, he smells good.
โMisha,โ I whisper.
He kisses me, his lips sinking into mine as I close my eyes.
โWhat was that?โ he teases, nibbling my lips. โI couldnโt hear you.โ โMisha,โ I gasp before diving into him and brushing his tongue with
mine. I press my body into his, feeling the bulge in his jeans rubbing me.
He finally pulls away, breathless and turned on again, just like at the drive-in.
โThank you.โ He kisses me one last time on the lips and turns around, heading back to his truck.
What the hell?
I watch, confused again, as he starts the engine and drives away, his taillights glowing in the darkness as he pulls out onto the street.
I know him very little, but after every encounter, I feel like I know him less.
I didnโt see Masen all weekend. Saturday came and went. My friends and I spent all day on the football field, orientating the incoming freshman cheerleaders for the next school year, and Sunday I was locked in my room, playing music, doing homework, and writing Misha.
Three letters.
Two of them were just full of boring, stupid crap, and the thirdโthe one about MasenโI crumpled up and threw away. Iโm not sure why. I donโt even know why I wrote it in the first place.
Walking down the hallway at school Monday morning, I stop at my locker and start to key in the combination, but I see black writing on the front, and I stop.
Anything to not need you, Anything to not fall for you,
Anything to look at a girl whoโs not you, But baby, thereโs nothing but you.
I smile.ย Masen.
At least I hope heโs the culprit. My cheeks warm, hating how happy that just made me. Why does it feel so good to know he was thinking about me this weekend when he snuck in to write it?
I try to force away the grin, but it pulls at me still as I open my locker and stuff in my bag, taking out what I need for the morning.
I walk to Art and enter the room, immediately shooting my eyes over to his seat and relieved to see him sitting there. I donโt know why, but Iโm afraid any moment could be the last I see him.
He talks to Manny seated next to him, and as usual, he either doesnโt notice me or acts like he doesnโt.
I walk up to my table and turn to set my materials down, but someone bumps into me, and I lurch forward.
โSorry,โ a deep voice says, and something is shoved into my hand.
I straighten and turn my head, seeing Masen brush past me and head to the front of the room, smirking back at me as he tosses his gum into the
trash can.
I curl my fingers around the small piece of paper and sit down, acting like nothing happened. He returns and takes his seat again, resuming his conversation with Manny.
I hold the paper in my lap and look down, unfolding it and reading it.
I canโt wait to kiss you.
Tingles spread underneath my skin, and I stuff the paper into my pocket, trying to appear like romantic crap like that doesnโt do it for me. Nope. Not at all.
And I totally didnโt replay the drive-in in my head a thousand times this weekend, remembering how awesome his kisses really are.
But then I look up and see Trey walking into the classroom.
My stomach sinks. I was looking forward to having Masen close, but Treyโs the rain on the parade again. I should just cut him loose.
โI think you really like art,โ I say as he pulls out the chair next to me. โPeople will start talking.โ
โTheyโll forgive me when they find out I only sit here to look down your shirt.โ He rests a hand on my chair behind me and lets his eyes fall to my loose T-shirt. He canโt see down the top, but a sliver of my belly is showing at the bottom, right above my tight jeans. โYouโre a nice view.โ
โYeah, okayโโ
But I stop, hearing a scratching sound. I turn my head, seeing Masen rotate a protractor in one hand, the sharp needle digging into the wooden table and slowly slicing a circle as he grinds it. I dart my eyes up to his face, seeing that heโs focused ahead, but when I look back down, I notice the black finish of the table is now marred, revealing the tan wood underneath.
I feel a smile pull at my lips. Heโs not happy.
Good.ย If he wants me to find a new prom date, then he can man up and ask me.
โWell, then,โ I continue, pushing the envelope and looking to Trey but talking loud enough for Masen to hear. โYou should see my prom dress. Youโre going to love it.โ
โCanโt wait.โ He grins back.
I open my sketch book and continue working on my project while Ms. Till starts drifting around the room to check on students and how theyโre coming along.
โHey, Manny.โ I hear Trey call in a whisper. โYou wonโt have your guard dog in P.E. today.โ
I hood my eyes, agitated. Manny remains still, shrinking almost entirely from view on Masenโs other side.
โYou see, Laurent?โ Trey calls over my head to Masen. โYou canโt watch him all the time.โ
I continue hearing the scratching of the protractor and look up, scanning the room. Till needs to get Trey out of here. Masen attacking him wonโt go unpunished if it happens again.
โWhen you sucker punch someone, that shit doesnโt go un-checked,โ Trey threatens, โso donโt turn your back, either. I wonโt be alone next time.โ
โJesus, Iโm bored,โ I mumble at Trey. โGo to Chemistry, would you?โ He arches a brow.
โIโll see you at lunch,โ I say, pushing him to take the hint. โI have to work now.โ
He snorts like heโs wondering what possible โworkโ I could have to do in Art. He finally rolls his eyes and gives me a peck on the cheek, getting up and walking out of the classroom.
I reach down, pretending to get something out of my bag as I whisper to Masen. โTell me youโre jealous.โ
I say the same words to him as he said to me at the drive-in. I donโt want to go to prom with Trey. I donโt want to even talk to Trey.
But Masen has given me nothing, and Iโm not putting my life on hold in the meantime.
โTell me Iโm yours,โ I say.
He lets the protractor fall to the table and looks down, keeping silent.
My jaw aches, and I feel tears sting the backs of my eyes. โI feel like youโre going to disappear any minute. Like youโre not really real.โ
โIโll tell you everything,โ he whispers back. โI promise. Just not yet.โ
I wipe away the wet at the corner of my eye and clear my throat. I like Masen. A lot. But he has no roots here, and once the year ends, nothing is keeping him here. Iโm nervous.
A low growl catches my attention, and I turn my head, realizing itโs coming from Masenโs stomach. He shifts in his seat, looking a little embarrassed.
โHave you eaten today?โ
โIโm fine,โ he says. โI just didnโt feel like gas station food again.โ
I watch him, the realization of his situation hitting me. Does he just go to the Cove after he leaves here? Is he alone all the time? How much money could he possibly have to eat and get gas and do laundry?
Sadness creeps in. No oneโs taking care of him.
He must sense me watching him, because he jerks his chin at my drawing, changing the subject.
โWhat is that?โ
I swallow, gazing down at my third try at the coal sketch which looks more like a Rorschach ink blot.
I suck.
โItโs an album cover,โ I tell him. โThat friend I told you about? Misha?
He writes music. I was making him a surprise for graduation.โ
His eyes narrow on it, and his breathing turns fast and shallow. โWhat?โ
He turns away, blinking rapidly. โNothing.โ
I let out a sigh and turn back to my work.ย Nothing, nothing, nothing.ย I might lie a lot, but at least I say something.
I reach into my bag and pull out a granola bar, tossing it in front of him before I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.
Itโs only eight oโclock in the morning, and I think Iโve already had enough boys for one day.
Squeezing out the packet into the cup, I replace the plastic lid and shake the salad inside. The Caesar dressing mixes and coats the contents, and I grab a plastic fork and a bottle of water, moving down the cafeteria line to the cashier.
โYouโre eating?โ Lyla steps up next me and reaches over, taking a cup of fruit.
โYeah.โ I hand my lunch card to the cashier, and she swipes it. โSpring fever. Might as well eat. I canโt concentrate on schoolwork today.โ
Or at least not at school. My mind is on Masen all the time. Is he here? Is he close? Is he going to push me into a classroom, touch me, and kiss the daylights out of me?
Please. God. Yes?
โYou know, I should tell you,โ Lyla says, giving the cashier some money. โYou leaving the drive-in with Masen Friday night was pretty
shitty.โ
I stop and turn my eyes on her, my heart catching in my throat. I donโt really care if she knows I left with him, but does she know what we were doing in his truck at the drive-in?
She smiles sarcastically. โHim pulling out of the drive-in right in the middle of a movie, and you nowhere to be found? It wasnโt hard to figure out, and Iโm willing to bet Treyโs figured it out, too.โ
I exhale, relaxing a little. Okay, she doesnโt know much else then.
โYou know what?โ I say. โYou actually shouldnโt tell me anything. You didnโt see me leave with him, you have no clue whatโs going on between us, if anything, andย youโveย given more guys a ride than a bus. When youโre perfect, then weโll talk. Got it?โ
Her eyes flare, shooting me a nasty look as she opens her mouth to speak again.
But I cut her off. โYouโre done,โ I tell her. โIโm hungry. Letโs eat.โ I turn around, but I see Trey and J.D. approach and stop.
Son of aโฆ
โYou wanna have some fun?โ Trey comes in, placing his hands on my hips.
What? I breathe out a laugh, a little exasperated. I canโt keep up with the intrigues right now.
But I blink, trying to focus myself again and find my quick wit. โSure.โ I give in. โI was wondering when youโd start getting interesting.โ
J.D. laughs, and Trey cocks an eyebrow, half-amused and half looking like he wants to teach me how to keep my mouth shut.
โLaurent canโt seem to take his eyes off you,โ he says.
He turns his head over his shoulder, and I follow his gaze, finding Masen sitting at a table full of the worst delinquents in school. He leans
back, his long legs stretched out, and his hands locked behind his head, laughing with the guy heโs talking to.
โSo?โ I look back at Trey.
โSo I think he wants you,โ he answers. โI want you to use that for me.โ
And then he leans in, holding the other side of my face and whispering into my ear. โGet him to come to my house next week for the party.โ
I pinch my eyebrows together, vaguely remembering him mentioning his parents being out of town soon. And he wants me to bring Masen. So you can do what? Beat him up after Iโve lured him into the trap like in that 80โs movie?
Yeah, no.
Trey pulls away, and I force my tone even. โThat doesnโt sound like any fun to me.โ
Trey hoods his eyes, clearly getting aggravated with my lack of cooperation. He turns to Lyla, giving her a sexy smile. โLyla, baby,โ he says, and I see J.D. tense. โYou got some balls, donโt you?โ
Lyla grins back coyly, and I shake my head.
If I donโt do what he wants, Lyla will. I catch J.D.โs sneer shoot between Trey and Lyla, and then to me before he looks away.
I heave a sigh. โMasenโs not stupid, Trey. Heโll see right through her.โ
I shove my salad at Lyla and brush past the boys, walking toward Masenโs table.
Stepping up, I stop next to him. All of his buddies cease their conversation and look at me, but Masen doesnโt spare me a glance.
โHey.โ I put my hand on my hip, knowing heโs aware of me.
A smile curls Masenโs lips, and his friendsโ eager glances dart between him and me.
โPrincess,โ he says. โWhat can I do for you?โ
Oh, please. I slide in between him and the table, hopping up and planting my hands behind me, leaning back a little, well-aware my shirt is riding up as his eyes flash to my stomach.
A few snorts sound off from his friends, and I taunt him with my eyes. โYour prom dateโs watching,โ he says.
โHe sent me,โ I reply. โHe seems to think youโll let me bring you to one of his parties.โ
I hear a few mumbles around the table, while Masen simply looks amused. We both know what Trey has in store, and I can feel my own friends watching us.
โYou donโt want your friends thinking youโre a chicken, do you?โ I play.
Masenโs smile widens, and he glances to his side, probably seeing if Trey is paying attention.
Not that either of us probably care. I kind of like this game. No one would believe weโre actually into each other. I can play them as long as weโre not playing each other.
He looks up at me and slides his hands under my knees, pulling me off the table and slowly lowering me into his lap, straddling him. Quiet laughter sounds off around the table and a need is suddenly building between my legs.
Leaning into him, chest to chest, I whisper in his ear. โI donโt want you to go,โ I admit. โHe wonโt be alone.โ
โWhy do you care?โ he speaks low, keeping his tone flat. โYouโre still taking Machismo-Dick to prom, arenโt you?โ
โHas anyone else asked me?โ โWould you say yes?โ
I brush his ear with my nose, feeling his soft skin there. โAsk and find out.โ
โTrevarrow!โ
I jerk, hearing my name called. I donโt have to turn around to know itโs the principal. Great. I move to get off his lap, but he presses his hands down on my thighs, keeping me there.
โMasen,โ I urge. Heโs going to get me in trouble. In public. โGet off his lap,โ Principal Burrowes orders me. โNow.โ
I put my hands on Masenโs shoulders, moving to get up, but he grips my hips again, keeping me down.
โShe gets off my dick when I tell her to get off,โ he tells the principal. My mouth falls open, and I widen my eyes.ย What the fuck?
Burrowesโ expression turns furious, and I hear various laughs and snorts around the table behind me.
โI beg your pardon?โ she exclaims.
But Masen just leans into my ear. โIโll see you later.โ
And then he stands, carefully letting me slide off his lap and onto my feet.
He doesnโt spare anyone a second glance and walks out of the lunchroom with Burrowesโ heels clacking after him.
Somehow, though, I doubt sheโs going to be able to stop him.