is still not making a move to get out. This guy is unreal. I’m so mad, I could punch him in the face. Maybe I should. He won’t hit me back. And it would hurt him like hell since he’s already beaten to a pulp.
“Don’t pretend we haven’t met.” I reach for my brush and comb my golden locks in front of the mirror. Might as well. Asshole’s not going anywhere.
“We have, but we never exchanged names, just fluids,” he barbs, “which begs the question, how the fuck do you know mine?”
“What fluids? You were too chicken to seal the deal,” I purr, wondering if he really doesn’t know my name. We’re both pretty big deals at our schools.
I think about the sea glass necklace, watching my face turning scarlet in the mirror. Am I an idiot for taking what he gave me, turning it into jewelry, and making it my talisman? The sea glass is a functioning organ of mine now. It reminds me that good people exist.
Only, I don’t know if Penn is that good anymore.
I think I may have ruined him.
Watching him in the steamed mirror, I lean against the vanity. I can tell when a guy is checking me out, and he’s not doing that. He’s more like assessing the damage he wants to inflict on me. I know his hatred for me runs deep because when he talks to me, every word is a blade, causing a shiver to roll down my spine. Instead of ending in my toes, though, it explodes between my legs.
“This ain’t shooting the shit, Daria. You stay out of my way; I’ll stay out of yours.”
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I mumble. “Shouldn’t you be at school? And don’t tell me what to do. You’re nothing but an unwelcome guest here.” I snort out a laugh.
“I ditched, like you.” He runs his eyes over me as if I’m nothing. Air. “And agreed on my guest status. I’m a reluctant one, at best. But the offer was there, and I’d be stupid not to accept it. I see the way you look at me. Oh, Skull Eyes…” He throws the nickname in my face as though the past few years didn’t happen. Then he takes a step toward me, his devious grin back in full force. “This round, I’m going to fucking destroy you.”
I turn to him fully, dumbfounded. I’m clutching the edge of the marble sink with one hand, not sure how or when the tables turned. He’s talking like he’s the master of the manor and I’m a pawn at his mercy. I narrow my eyes, trying to crack his façade, but alas, it remains tough as steel. Penn Scully actually believes he owns me. Me. Daria Followhill. The most popular girl at All Saints High. I need to try to remind myself that his mother just died. That he is acting out. That this morning, he thought he was homeless.
“I don’t want you transferring to my school,” I hiss out. Melody would gladly file a transfer request, and Principal Prichard would salivate over the chance to snatch him up for our football team.
“That won’t be a problem. You guys suck so much ass, you have shit-breath.”
“Still smells better than poverty. You’re poor, right? Your sister was just bullshitting about being rich.”
When someone hits me with a stick, I run over them with a tank. I’m so mean to him I want to throw up. I hate this part of being me. The striking harder at all costs part.
“Just to make things clear”—I put the brush down, batting my lashes—“you’re not my step-sibling, foster brother, or a part of the family. You’re a stray dog, last of the litter, most unlikely to be adopted, and a charity case.”
Penn takes a step toward me, and my heart is fighting its way out of my rib cage. The closer he gets, the more I realize that my heart might succeed. Penn’s eyes remind me of a snake. Mesmerizing but inhuman altogether. They weren’t like that before.
His scent messes with my head. I want to reach out and caress his face. Kiss his wounds better. Beg for forgiveness. Curse him. Push him away. Cry on his shoulder for what we’ve done. For how it ended. For what we became afterward. Because I’m full of crap, and he is totally empty.
We ruined ourselves the day of our first kiss.
When Penn looks down at me, time stops. It feels like the world is