Chapter 11
I didn’t like the look Cal gave when Sasha hauled him away from the party Saturday night.
He hadn’t wanted to leave with her. Envy and need churned in my gut.
He’d been fine where he was, watching me, maybe hating me.
Then again, when she came back not long after, the flames in her eyes brighter than the bonfire, it eased my jealousy a bit.
Had they fought? Was he okay? Would it be weird if I asked? Probably. Monday, though, I had all the reason in the world to reach for him. Err, text him. I meant text him.
I don’t respond well to being badgered.
Dipshit
Not sure anyone does. What’s your point?
You seemed to be trying to get my attention.
Dipshit
Did you want me to be trying, Princess?
I’m not doing this with you. Either tell me something new or I’m making shit up and you won’t like it.
Dipshit
Actually, Princess Know It All, I like your creativity. Do your worst.
I’ve got it in text. No takebacks.
Dipshit
Fine. Fuck. I hate my football #.
31? Why? What’s wrong with it?
Dipshit
Reminds me of the song about the guy who wanted the 13 tat, but he’s a loser and got 31 instead.
You like the Offspring? Now that’s unexpected.
Dipshit
And why the hell is that?
Don’t country boys only like country music? George Brooks or whatever.
Dipshit
You mean Garth Brooks? Cause I’m from the south we all like country music? Way to stereotype.
Don’t be a pissy little princess. I’m sure you made assumptions about me.
Dipshit
No, I didn’t. Now tell me your new shit and leave me alone so I can get ready for school.
I swallowed against the sudden dryness in my throat. Cal wasn’t ready? Images of him half-naked, damp from his shower, eyes heavy-lidded and sleepy, had me adjusting my instant stiffy.
Something new? Uh …
Mind an utter blank, I stood frozen until Ty called from downstairs, and I jumped. Uh, what could I text in response? Not a single thing came to mind that didn’t involve the new things I wanted to do to Cal’s wet body.
I chewed my lips until they hurt, then huffed and ran out of my room.
“What’s something about me I can tell Cal?” I asked Ty on our way to school.
“Huh?”
“You know, the thing we have to share on days we meet with Trent.”
Ty snickered. “Right, your couples therapy. Hmm, I dunno. You hate beans, like a weirdo. That’s a good one.”
And better than anything I could come up with. I hastily typed it out and shoved my phone into my pocket, not caring about Cal’s reply. It was done. I did my part.
“Thanks,” I mumbled to Ty.
As it turned out, I did care. Cal’s response made me grin and scowl in the same breath.
Dipshit
Beans? Really? So high maintenance, Princess.
“You remind me of my little brother.”
I twisted in my chair and glared at Asher, my chem lab partner. He was shorter and smaller than me, but I reminded him of his little brother? “How so?” I asked. I didn’t normally engage, even though we’d been civil toward each other, but this guy hung around Cal, so maybe worth the effort.
“He glares at our sisters the same way you’re glarin’ at Cal.”
I choked on a breath and coughed into my fist a few times before I straightened and said, “Doubt that.” No way his brother would be looking at his sisters with the same ideas I had for Cal.
In my mind, I’d licked a trail of shower water from his neck, never stopping, just over and over, because for some reason, it never stopped dripping from his hair. Which then led to shower fantasies and even cleaning the sweat off him after practice. All with my tongue, of course.
Yeah, today’s chemistry lesson was a loss. I couldn’t shake myself from daydreams so real I could practically smell them.
Asher wasn’t put out in the least by my attitude. He smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, okay, he’s usually mad at them for hoggin’ the bathroom. I’m not really sure why you’re mad at Cal.”
I shrugged, not responding to the question in his words, but instead asked, “You know Winters?”
I wasn’t mad at Cal. Not anymore. For whatever reason, I’d stopped scowling. I didn’t narrow my eyes at him or sneer. I just watched and waited, but he did the same. Like some eerie unspoken truce on either side of a battlefield with fog and shadows hiding our intentions.
My crush sat fully intact, not letting up, like a knee on my neck. It wasn’t giving me an inch to get over him, which was more to fuel the rage at myself since this would go nowhere. Cal had a girlfriend who might be a bitch, but even if we didn’t fight, he would never be mine.
Would never be mine.
Dammit, no matter how many times I said it, thought it, it didn’t stop me from steamrolling right over it and giving in to the dream.
Asher snorted and grinned in a cute, lopsided way. “Everyone knows everyone here, but yeah. I’ve known Cal a long time. Surprisingly, he’s not my cousin.”
Right, I wasn’t touching that, but … “Tell me about him.” Why I was asking him, trusting him to not make more of this than I would offer, was beyond me.
Asher had an easygoing way about him in spite of the dark clothes and eyeliner he wore.
Maybe that was it. Asher wasn’t what you’d think at first glance. I liked that. Reminded me of me.
“What do you wanna know?” he asked, and I glared.
Eventually, he sighed, muttered something to himself that sounded like “Gotta hold their fucking hands, I guess,” then louder said, “He moved here from Florida when we were kids. His daddy’s a surgeon.
He’s got a little sister.” This was shit I knew, except the Florida part.
“Rumor has it his parents got divorced last year. You wouldn’t hear that from him or Cara, though. ”
“How do you know, then? Who’s talking?” I’d kick their ass.
“My momma.” Okay, I wouldn’t kick her ass. “She’s friends with Sara—that’s Cal’s momma—and Sara complains a lot, loudly.”
“What do you mean?”
Asher adjusted in his seat to face me a little more and lowered his voice.
“She’s that prom queen, entitled kind of woman.
She got everything given to her but thinks she’s a victim.
Momma didn’t tell me, but I overheard them talking about Sara cheating on Cal’s daddy, but she complains and blames him for all of it. ”
I glanced at Cal, hating that for him. “That sucks.”
“Yeah. Cal’s a nice guy too, which makes me wonder how he ended up with Sasha.”
The bitch. “What about her?”
“Preacher’s daughter. Cute like a Chucky Doll.”
“She’s mean to him?”
Asher shrugged. “Unconfirmed. She’s a sly fox, but I’d swear sometimes it’s more than words she bites him with.”
That went along with what I thought I saw at the beach party. I’d been too far to hear or see clearly but could’ve sworn he’d flinched in a bad way when she reached for his arm. Now I was even more curious about what happened between them leaving and her coming back alone and pissed.
“He doesn’t deserve the shit he puts up with.”
I smirked. “That supposed to warn me off? Stop me from getting on his ass.”
“Heh.” Asher smiled wider and glanced across the room at Cal, who sat in the front row, then back to me. “Is that where you wanna be? On his ass?”
“You’re one brave little shit.” I wouldn’t admit to what I thought about doing with Cal’s ass. It’d always served me better to leave goading like that alone.
“Nah.” Asher straightened in his chair and checked on Mr. Matthews, who was still distracted with the slideshow he was readying to present to the class.
“I’m the oldest out of my siblings, and sometimes I feel older than my parents.
I’ve watched them fight themselves over what they wanna be doin’ versus what they have to be doin’.
I know keeping the peace and bitin’ one’s tongue.
I also know a lot about lashing out for all the wrong reasons. ”
“Well, I guess you know everything, then.” That might’ve been experiences with his family but was aimed at me and this entire year. The pranks, the fighting, the posturing … I didn’t pretend to misunderstand.
“Nah, not everythin’.”
I gasped. “What? You don’t know something?”
“Don’t happen often, so enjoy.”
“Well, lay it on me. What is it you don’t know?”
“Glad you asked.”
I rolled my eyes, then my hand to get him talking.
“I dunno what sparked this war zone between you and Cal, but I got a good idea. I also don’t know how much longer he’s gonna keep pretending with Sasha, but I got a good idea about that too.”
At the mention of a possible breakup, I straightened in my chair and leaned closer. “What else?”
Asher kept his darkly outlined eyes on mine. “I don’t know which of you is gonna make the first move, but it’ll be epic.”
I snorted. “Way off the mark, Asher.”
“Am I?”
I nodded. I wasn’t about to break the fragile truce, or whatever was between us, and get in trouble again.
“Then tell me nothin’s brewin’ between you even when he’s starin’ at you right now.”
I glanced at Cal, and sure as shit, he was watching me over his shoulder.
“How the fuck did you know that?” I hissed.
“Better question is when the fuck is he not starin’ at you?”
I liked the sound of that more than I should.
Cal had given me every bit of the rage I’d flung at him. Yet, now that I’d simmered, so had he. Could we really be thinking the same thing? Feeling the same way about each other? Even with the insights, Asher might not have figured out the exact emotion behind my actions, so I played it carefully.
I dropped my chin to hide a smile I didn’t want Cal or anyone to see. “Who the hell are you?”
He shrugged. “I’m a work in progress.”
I elbowed him with a snort about the time the teacher sighed and raised his voice to get our attention.
Cal and I continued our silent stare-off all day.
Ty said I should try to talk to him, but I wasn’t ready.
Our texts with each other and the forced conversations we had with Trent were more of the same shit we flung like deranged monkeys at the zoo.
It was only in these across-time-and-space moments when this thing between us seemed as if it might be something more than we’d shown each other.
Or something we weren’t ready to show each other.
Trust was hard-earned in my book, and even though Cal and I hadn’t blown up at each other recently, that didn’t mean shit yet.
We had eyes on us constantly. Teachers, other students, coaches, and Trent, everyone seemed to be holding their breath for the next brawl.
Cal could be waiting for the right moment to strike.
No matter how I wanted things to be between Cal and me, we still had a shitload of unresolved bravado between us. I didn’t know what he meant by all of it. I wasn’t sure what I wanted it to mean anymore.
One thing was for sure, though: the more hope tried to wiggle in behind my ribs, the more pissed I became. Fuck Cal Winters. Why did he make me think so hard? Or dream so big?