Pretty Reckless (All Saints High #1) - L.J. Shen Page 0,89

himself to another girl. At least this time he wore a condom.

Perhaps you’re not a worthy longtime mistake to make.

I turn around and start climbing the stairs.

“Scullys,” he croaks. I keep my pace steady. Up, up, up to my room. I can do it. If I don’t turn around. If I don’t get lost in his light eyes and dark soul. “Skull…Eyes,” he amends.

A hand jerks at the hem of my shirt, and he yanks me the two stairs down, back to the landing. He pins me to the wall in an alcove between the kitchen and the living room in one ruthless shove. I wince when I smell the alcohol and coppery blood on his breath.

His eye is swollen, and his lower lip drips blood onto his shoes. Drunken Penn is a sight I didn’t think I’d see on a school night. He usually wakes up at the same time, rain or shine, for his morning strength training, always looking like a million bucks in a tattered ten-buck outfit.

“What do you want?” I hiss. I feel so breakable in his arms.

“A kiss.”

I push on his chest. He is not making any sense.

“Drop dead, Scully.” It actually looks like he might.

I turn back around toward the stairs. He tugs my wrist again. His eyes are pleading. His eyebrows pulled together. He looks…pathetic, and the old Daria would take great pleasure in basking in this sight. But the new one wants to die knowing he hurts. Even worse than that, that he is hurting. That Via reentering his life was not everything he hoped it to be.

“Clean yourself up,” I say quietly. “Or you’ll get seriously infected.”

“Help me?” he croaks, his voice throaty, laced with pain.

“Why don’t you ask your girlfriend to do it?”

“Because she lives two towns over.”

“Wrong answer.”

“Because I don’t want her help. I want yours.”

I close my eyes. I tell myself that I’m just helping him clean up, not getting in bed with him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Penn so messed up. Physically—maybe. He’s a physical player. But emotionally…for the first time since I’ve met him, I see him feel. The walls are soaked with his emotions, the air dense with them.

I make my way to the cabinet above the sink and take out a first-aid kit, motioning for him with my head to come closer. He hops onto the kitchen island and gulps me in as I wash his face with a warm cloth I’m pretty sure our cleaners use to wipe the tiles. Then I clean up his bruises with antiseptic wipes and put a Band-Aid on a gash on his forehead that probably needs some stitches. I don’t ask him what happened. He tells me anyway.

“I fought three guys at the snake pit.”

“That’s dumb,” I whisper.

“Simultaneously.”

“That’s seriously dumb.”

He tries to chuckle, but it splits the cut on his lip again.

“There.” I take a step back. “Bet you’re feeling brand new.”

“How was New York?” he asks.

I can’t even think about that city without wanting to throw up. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to set foot in it again.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t pretend we’re friends.” I close the first-aid kit, push it back into the cabinet, and make my way upstairs to finish my entry.

When I get to my bed, the little black book is not there anymore.

Listen to the chaos

Brewing in your head

This, my pretty reckless lover

Is how our story ends

The next day, I’m a dead girl walking.

When I see Via in the hallway, I pass her wordlessly. I’m scared that if I say something, I might go apeshit, and my situation is very delicate. I’ve lost so much in the past few weeks, and I don’t trust myself to react anymore.

I’m passive. Timid. Scared.

Exactly as she wanted me. Precisely what she pretends to be.

Cheer practice is the only thing I have left, so when I put my uniform on in the locker room, I try to take a deep breath and enjoy the nothingness around me. Everyone is waiting for me outside. It’s time to shine. To be the old me. Whoever that may be.

I gather my hair into a ponytail, turning around to make my way to the door at the same time it bangs shut. I look up and see Esme leaning against it, arms folded. She is wearing her skimpy cheer outfit and a triumphant smile.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Her voice is sugary sweet, and my hackles immediately rise. I tilt my chin upward.

“Sure. I’m getting good at

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