Chapter 29
E ver doesn’t speak to me the rest of the day, but the next morning, I check the new shoes in my closet, finding one pair tagged in graffiti-style wording that says EVER MUNREAUX WAS HERE.
I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.
With no notifications on my phone overnight though, I’m still worrying while waiting for her to come out of her room.
Thankfully, she does. And when she does, she’s cuddling the bear I gave her.
I’ll take that as a good sign.
“How about Art?” I suggest to break the ice.
Unfortunately, one withering look from Ever has everything freezing back up again, even the walls around us.
That’s not a good sign.
We were finally getting somewhere…I thought.
I wanted to fuck her yesterday. Jesus Christ, did I want to. It’s a miracle I lasted as long as I did. A couple of tugs on my cock and I was spilling seed like a farmer in the spring.
Which was hot. The whole thing was. The way she tasted. The way she didn’t get shy. The way she took charge and moved for me so easily. The way she seemed to like my cum not only on her but also in her. Fuck.
I don’t know why she has to be so stubborn. Why can’t she look at me during sex? I never said it had to be the whole time. Just the beginning.
And some of the middle.
And preferably the end.
But not the whole time.
She’s so fucking dramatic.
I was about to let it go anyway. If she would’ve kissed me, I would’ve dove into her deliciously wet cunt no problem. I would’ve fucking slathered my cock with her pussy juice.
But no. She said “Never.” She’ll never kiss me on the mouth. What kind of bullshit is that?
How am I supposed to feel about that?
I don’t know how I feel about any of it.
I’m trying not to feel anything. It’d be stupid as shit to. Not only is this my job but it’s short-term. Not short-term by my standards necessarily, but definitely by other people’s.
I know I didn’t feel great leaving things the way we did yesterday. She was in her butterfly conservatory for four hours before coming out to go for a run.
I don’t feel great now either because even though she’s right here, her mind couldn’t be further away.
I gotta make it right with Ever. Or at least better. If I don’t, she’ll probably try to smother me in my sleep tonight.
“I think Art’s a good name,” I say. “Because you like to draw.”
She doesn’t respond in any way whatsoever.
Shit. What can I do?
What I always do to get her attention. Fight.
“Like how you drew on another pair of my shoes last night.”
Nope. Nothing.
Oh. My bad. I forgot who I’m dealing with. A demon.
“Maybe Lucifer’s more fitting since that’s two pairs of my shoes you’ve ruined now.”
Just before we reach the kitchen, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Halting on the stairs, I pull it out and…
What? A video message?
One glance at Ever and I see her waiting in the stairwell, too. That’s suspicious. Her phone isn’t out though. So maybe not.
Then who…
Against my better judgment, I open it. Not a moment later, the screen gets taken up by a celebrity. Did someone send me a post from social media?
I’m about to close it out when the video starts playing automatically.
“Ayo, Crue, this is Julez. I got a message for you.”
Julez? The rapper? Why the fuck would he have a message for me?
“Before all that though, I’m supposed to tell yinz to come see me this summer on my Family Julez Tour hitting whatever-the-fuck city is near you.”
The rapper rolls his eyes while taking a hit from a blunt. It looks like he’s in a recording studio, but with a lot more people in it than I would imagine is supposed to be in one.
“ The Collette’s gonna be opening for me, so don’t miss it.” The background, as well as everyone in it, disappears as Julez brings his phone in close to his face to say quieter, “Mark my words, she’s gonna be my wife one day.”
He cracks up, probably because he’s high but also because…Collette is a popstar with a kid and a squeaky-clean image. Julez not only is a rapper but has a rap sheet as well. It’s clearly a joke.
“Anyway, about this message. Ever wanted me to tell you…” Julez holds his phone out as far as his long arm can stretch, then says, “You’re welcome.”
The video ends, returning the staircase to silence.
Does she know him personally?
If that was a favor though, he wouldn’t have plugged his tour.
“You paid him just to say that?” I ask, getting—no surprise—nothing in return.
See. This is why I’m always fucking grumpy. This shit right here.
Feeling as petty as my protectee, I delete the personalized video message, then go into the Recently Deleted folder and do the same there, too.
Never listening to that motherfucker’s music again. It’s too bad because I actually liked the song he did with Collette.
Ever and I descend the rest of the stairs without another word to each other.
You’re welcome. That’s what I should’ve said to her yesterday instead of all that “good” bullshit.
I didn’t know what else to say. She got so angry so fast. She just…
I’m supposed to think like she does and guess what her next steps are so I can protect her before anything bad happens, and for the most part, I have been. It’s the stuff that involves me where my brain seems to shut down and stop working altogether. I never know what she’s gonna say or do to me.
I don’t have experience with this—girls, sex. Well, sex repeatedly with the same person. That’s a whole different ballgame than a one-night stand. One-night stands are such low pressure because you’re never gonna see that person again. At least that’s the hope.
Ever literally told me to get off her while her cum was still drying on my cheeks. If that happened during a one-night stand—which it never has—I’d never have to face that girl again. But I don’t have a choice here. I don’t just have to face Ever, I have to continue facing her every minute of every fucking day for the foreseeable future.
That was shitty. She owes me an apology for that. Will I get one though? From the carelessly malicious Ever Munreaux? Not likely. There are only two scenarios I can think of that happening. One, Ever tricks me again. Or two, hell freezes over. Shit might be frosty between us right now but Satan’s spawn is still fuming. Her willing to pay a celebrity to deliver a smartass message for her proves that.
“Good morning, Miss Munreaux. Will you be eating your breakfast—”
“To go,” Ever says shortly, cutting off Chef Ryan.
As usual, Arthur’s already in here, eating at the table. Sometimes he acknowledges his daughter, but most times he doesn’t. It seems he only does if he has a bone to pick with her. Luckily, he remains silent today, allowing us to be on our way in the span of a couple of minutes.
In Ever’s car, she sets the teddy bear on her lap, giving me a view of the face that was tucked against her chest.
“What the fuck happened to him?” His face doesn’t look anything like it did when I gave it to her.
Lifting the bear, Ever examines him like she hadn’t noticed. How could she not? The face is concave at this point.
“Crue?”
The first word she says to me and it’s my name. It could be worse.
“Yeah?”
“No, him.” She jiggles the stuffed animal. “He’s Crue.”
It’s worse.
“His name’s not Crue.”
“Yes, it is. I named him Crue 2.0 because he’s better than you. He didn’t mind one bit that I didn’t maintain eye contact.”
It takes me several minutes to figure out what that means.
“You fucked the bear’s face in?”
“I guess it’s a good thing you stopped when you did, or the same thing might’ve happened to yours.” Meeting my eyes for the first time since we left the gym yesterday, she pops her eyebrows in challenge.
A challenge I would love to call her bluff on. Fucking try it, little bat. I’m not made of terry cloth and stuffing. My face, and every other part of me, can handle a violent ride. In fact, I welcome one.
I rip the bear from her grasp and toss it in the back without looking away from her. Fuck that no-named bear.
Ever only rolls her eyes, equally unimpressed and unbothered, before nibbling at her egg and sausage bite, no yogurt in sight.
No idea what to say next, I begin the drive to Littoral. Halfway there, I have to break the silence.
“I looked up douche, by the way.”
Because the Sapphire’s electric and hardly makes any noise, I hear her mutter, “When you looked in the mirror.”
I choose to ignore that.
Bitch.
I knew douche was an insult toward guys, but I didn’t know it was an actual tool…thing for girls.
“And douching isn’t all that good for you. It messes with your levels.”
“Levels? Levels of what?”
“Your bacteria.”
Ever’s quiet for a bit, then says, “Okay,” like she’s not sure why I’m telling her this but she’s the one that threatened to use one.
“So…I hope you didn’t actually douche.”
“You spend a lot of time concerned about my vagina.”
Way too much time. More now that I’ve felt it and tasted it. It’s become a hobby of mine, thinking about that cunt.
“Someone has to. If you’re fucking a teddy—”
“Oh my Goddess. Every girl humps a stuffed animal at least once in her life. It’s like a part of growing up.”
“You’re nineteen.”
“Well, I’ve never had one to try it on. I thought I’d see what all the hype was about.”
“Because your other ones were too expensive to disfigure or…”
“I’ve just never had one before, period.”
Now I feel bad for throwing the bear.
Kind of.
Not really. It should’ve been me she humped. It’s the number one reason why I have a face.
Probably.
“And?”
“And what?”
“Did it live up to the hype?”
Ever shakes her head for several moments too long.
“Did you come?” I ask, more fascinated than I’d ever admit out loud.
“Well, yeah… I mean… If I rub my clit on anything long enough, I’m gonna come.”
So she’s a clit-climaxer. I figured she was but not all women are. It’s good to know she hasn’t been faking it with me.
It’s really good to know.
I eye the bear through the rearview mirror, wondering how many times she came on him.
After I get Ever to class, I jog back out to the car and bury my nose in the bear’s caved-in face to see if I can pick up on her scent. I don’t know if she was wearing underwear or not, but I can’t really smell her pussy. Sadly.
I look the animal over for anything that could pass as a smear of cum, finding none. The gleam in his now-lopsided eye appears gloating, or at least that’s how it feels, sealing his fate.
I give him an arrogant smirk of my own…all the way to the closest trash can. Just as I’m about to let go though, Ever’s face flashes in my mind. She was really happy when I gave her the bear. If she was telling the truth about never having a stuffed animal before, this would’ve been her first one.
“Fuck,” I say as I walk his smug ass back to the car. After a half hour of trying to redistribute the stuffing back to his face, I sit him on the passenger seat again, exactly like I did the first time except with a face that isn’t even close to perfect.
But mine isn’t either and she did name the fucker after me, so…
Happy humping, Ever.
I flip Crue 2.0 off before shutting the door and hustling back to Ever’s classroom.