I’m having a party tonight. Want to come?
Trevor: I would love to come.
Me: Is it weird we barely know each other?
Trevor: We’ll get to know each other tonight. I promise. ;)
What is he winking at?
Right before I text back, Kent barges into my room. He eyes me, my guilty look, and cocks his handsome head to the side. He looks freshly showered. His blond hair is styled and he looks so good in a pair of red jeans and a black shirt. His black high-top sneakers only add to the appeal.
“What are you up to?” he accuses.
I decide not to lie. “I’m talking to Trevor.” I watch his reaction like a hawk.
His entire face turns as red as his jeans. His mouth thins and he touches his stomach as if it hurts. “We’re playing like that?” he growls, eyes leaking their evil all over my bedroom. “You’re going to lose. You’re going to lose harder than I win.”
“Who say’s we’re playing? You don’t want me. You want Willow, and Auburn Hair, and girls like Samantha. Why can’t I be with a man who actually wants me? And Trevor wants me, Kent. He’s practically begging for it.”
His expression is pure wild rage. “You are such a…” He can’t or won’t finish. “All right, Rain. You want Trevor, you have him. I’m just a guy to you. Remember one thing. You’re just a girl. I can have whoever I want in place of you.”
“You’ve shown that already. Get out of my room. I have to get dressed.”
Why are we hurting each other? Why does the idea of adding to our pain make it seem less real?
“What are you going to wear?” He opens my dresser and starts rummaging through my clothes. He picks a pair of ripped jeans in a size too big, missing most of the jewels on the pocket, and a tunic style shirt that makes me look like a bag. “This is perfect.”
I roll my eyes and text Trevor my address.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Logic suggests this isn’t going to go well. I’m usually a logical person. I’m not operating with my brain. I’m operating with my emotions, something I never do, because I know your emotions can be misleading. Like right now. I want to make Kent suffer the way he has me. I know it isn’t right of me. It’s not even fair. Involving Trevor is going to backfire. I know these things. Yet I can’t stop myself. Last night Kent took something from me. He showed me my fears were fears regardless of how true they were. My wants were wants regardless of whether I could have them.
I resent him for that.
I resent Kent for being exactly who I can’t have.
As he sets out another hideous outfit I call Sam and invite her to the party. She agrees instantly. I have a feeling why, and he’s staring at me in disgust. Next I call Sophie.
“What’s up, drunky? Did you get laid last night?”
I lie on my back, ignoring Kent’s eyes on me. “Sort of.”
She hoots. “You’re welcome.”
“I said sort of. What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing. My boyfriend has to work. Why?”
“I’m having a party. I want you to come.”
She laughs. “You don’t sound like you’re happy about it.”
“Sam said she’d pick you up. And stop reading my mind, witch. Leave your tricks at home.”
“I plan on making you happy about it,” she warns with an evil chuckle.
“Bye, Sophie.” I hang up and toss my phone on bed.
“Sophie’s going to get you into trouble. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You got me into trouble,” I point out. “Get out. I want to get dressed.”
He ignores my words and lies next to me, turning his face toward me. Our noses almost touch and I can smell mint on his breath. His lips look unbearably inviting. I want what we had last night.
Reaching over tentatively, I touch them, dragging my fingertips over his smooth supple flesh. “I want to kiss you.”
Sadness enters his eyes. “I’m not good at this, Rain.” His words whisper against my fingertips. “I never have been.”
Leaning over slowly, so he can pull away if he wants, I press my lips to his, inhaling the taste of mint on his breath. “Me neither.”
His hand touches my lower back, pulling me closer. “I can’t believe I can’t have this.”
I’m glad there will be alcohol to forget him. Is this what he feels? This overwhelming desire to forget? When did I start running from Kent