Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,120
he makes a shadow in the mirror. The only light in the room comes from a dusty skylight up above our heads, and even then, dusk is approaching quickly. Speaking of, I really should get going … “It's like you both hate and love dance at the same time, like it's the air you breathe but also the poison that’s slowly killing you.”
“Mm. Third position.” Callum takes up the pose, and I copy him. Again, he steps forward to correct me, getting too close, touching me too softly. I can't believe this is the same guy who chucked hot coffee in a football player's face and then punched him in front of two dozen Fuller High students. “Do you know why that prick called me Prima the other day?” he asks, like he can read my mind, his velvety voice making me shiver.
I shake my head, and Cal sighs heavily.
“I used to think dance would get me out of here,” he says, and even though it's too dark to see his facial expression, I can feel his emotions in his words. I don't need to ask where here is, exactly. I know he doesn't mean just Springfield, but … poverty. Darkness. Violence. Hate. Abuse. Everything.
He puts his hands on my shoulders, and I shiver, closing my eyes and holding third position with shaking arms. I'm no good at this. But I don't think that was the point. He's showing me his world, and it's a world you can't explain with words.
He readjusts my arms and feet for me, and each place his hands touch leaves a mark that I can just feel when I close my eyes, like bright spots of light in the blackness behind my lids. He stretches out my arm, smirking a bit when my breasts brush against his chest. I don’t exactly have a dancer’s body myself. Too busty, too curvy.
“I don't see why it can't be?” I ask, and Cal laughs again, a dry sound that makes me shiver again. I open my eyes, and find that some cloud cover's moved over, blotting out all the light. We're standing in total darkness now.
“When I was fifteen,” he says, moving my body again. I let him manipulate me and find some sort of comfort in it. For a moment there, I don't have to think or wonder what I should do, what my next move will be. I just exist. It's beautiful. “I made the mistake of sleeping with my dance partner.” He pushes down on my arms until they're relaxed by my sides. “Her boyfriend and his buddies kicked the shit out of me. They broke my left ankle, shattered my kneecap, fucked up my spine. I can't dance for long without hurting. And there are just some things I can't do anymore …” He trails off, lost in dark memories. “Not only that, but the recovery time put me so far behind. What a way to lose my virginity, huh?”
“What did you do?” I ask, because I know that Callum was already part of Havoc in ninth grade. They'd just formed their little gang, but they were small-time back then. Not so much anymore. I can't imagine they didn't seek revenge.
“I almost killed the ringleader,” he says, his voice cracking slightly. “Vic stopped me. If he hadn't, I'd probably be in prison for murder. But he taught me how to get revenge the right way—without getting caught.” Callum steps away from me and moves over to his bag, lifting his phone out and turning it on again. He sets it on top of the stereo and the light plays strange shadows across his face. “You did good, coming to Havoc.”
When he turns around, he’s limned in light. My breath catches, making my chest feel tight as he approaches me in his hoodie, his sweatpants bunched up above his knees. The scars on his muscular calves catch the glow from his phone screen, highlighting the jagged, angry lines.
My heart stops beating for a moment as Cal reaches out a hand for me to take, and I carefully place my fingers in his. City by Hollywood Undead starts to play as he pulls me to him, hard and fast. The sudden movement knocks the air out of me as he draws me in against his chest, my back to his front.
“I’m going to personally make sure every person on your list suffers,” he whispers, his velvety voice against my ear. Callum walks us in a circle