Chapter 11
ELEVEN
SUTTON
T he squeal of tires peels me away from the script I’d been reading. Car doors slam, and then I hear yelling, even from my spot here on the back porch.
“Fuck you, asshole!”
Something that sounds like skin-on-skin, someone being slapped?
Tossing the script to the bench, I stand and walk to the end of the porch, craning my head to surreptitiously look around the side of the house.
Cal is grabbing Sarah’s wrist, holding it in the air next to his face as he says something too quiet for me to hear.
Did she seriously just slap him? Was she trying to hit him again?
My eyes widen in surprise. They’ve been fighting a lot over the last several weeks, both at school and in front of Cal’s house, but I have never seen her hit him before.
Yikes. And I thought she was just a bitch when it came to me.
Well, me and half the female population of our school. But me, more so than the other girls.
My momentary sense of hope that this might finally be the beginning of the end of their tumultuous relationship dies a fiery death before it even has a chance to spark, as she kisses him.
My heart sinks.
Not even kisses really, so much as it’s like she is trying to eat his face.
I grimace as she grips the front of his shirt with her free hand and yanks him closer, tongue licking around the outside of his mouth.
Ew. Seriously, does she think that’s sexy or something?
Because from over here, she just looks like a messy toddler going to town on a lollipop.
You know, like one of those oversized ones that are the size of a kid's face that you find at carnivals.
Ugh.
I can’t keep watching this.
Disgusted at the sight, and stomach full of lead, I turn on my heel, quickly swiping my script from where I had tossed it. Making my way across the yard, I slip quietly through the back gate and head off to my own personal slice of heaven.
“Hey. Haven’t seen you around much lately.”
I snort, not bothering to respond.
Even as I refuse to look up, concentrating on staring at my lines that blur in front of me, I can feel him behind me.
His footsteps are quiet, but I don’t need to hear him to feel his presence.
I can always feel him near me. My skin tingles with awareness, and I suck in a breath as he comes to hover over me.
“Working on your lines? ”
Still, I say nothing.
He crouches behind me, and I can feel the warm weight of his hand as he places it softly on my back.
“Come on, Shorty. If there’s one thing I know about you and Lena, it’s how to tell when either of you’re mad at me. So, talk.”
Growling under my breath in irritation, because really that’s all I’ll ever be. Just his kid sister’s best friend, basically just another sister to him, so why should it matter if I am mad at him? I toss my forgotten script to the side.
“I’m not mad at you. What reason could I possibly have for being mad? ”
I still can’t bring myself to look at him though, staring off into the trees across the clearing.
So many times I have sat out here. So many nights just sitting by myself, writing, or with Cal when he happened to be looking for his own escape.
Sometimes we would sit and talk for hours, other times, we would just sit in comfortable silence.
I think this is the first time I have ever felt this way before though, at least here .
How can your heart break over the same person you are too disgusted to even look at?
“Well now, that’s a lie if I ever heard one. Come on, Shorty. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
The air around us shifts as he sits down next to me, his shoulder nudging into my own. Still, I say nothing. Clamping my lips shut in annoyance.
He sighs, rubbing the side of his face, and I can feel the weight of unease as it settles between us.
“Did she seriously slap you?”
Shit. Why did I say that? I shouldn’t have even seen that. And hell, it’s certainly not my place to say anything even if I had . But I can’t take it back now. Oh well, chalk it up to being that annoying little sister’s nosy best friend I guess.
Cal tenses, shoulders stiffening, before he blows out an exaggerated breath.
“You saw that? ”
I mean, not technically , though I saw the aftermath and was able to put two and two together. . . still, I can’t help it as I scoff, unable to stop the sarcasm as it seeps out of me.
“Hard to miss with the theatrics she puts on display.”
He shakes his head slowly, taking his time before responding.
“She’s not all bad.”
And now I’m the one tensing. Nope. Not today.
I may have had the most ridiculous one-sided crush on this guy since I was in the single-digits, but my infatuation only goes so far.
I do not need to listen to him make excuses or wax poetic about the girl who has single-handedly made it her mission in life to make mine a living hell.
Before I can think twice, I’m on my feet and storming off towards the tree line which blocks our houses from view.
“Shorty, wait! Hey! Sutton, hang on a minute!”
A hand grabs my arm, bringing me to an abrupt halt and suddenly I am facing Cal, looking up into the most beautiful set of hazel eyes that I have ever seen.
Eyes that I have spent countless hours daydreaming about.
No. Bad, Sutton! Stop getting lost in those damn dreamy eyes, right now!
Giving myself a mental shake, I try to jerk my arm free, only to feel his hand grip me more tightly.
“Let go of me, Cal.”
“No, come on. Talk to me. Why are you acting like this?”
A near hysterical laugh escapes me before I can stop it. And I decide, what the hell? In for a penny, in for a pound.
“Why am I acting like this? Are you freaking serious right now?” I yank on my arm once more, and almost stumble as he lets go abruptly. “Gee, why the hell would I have a reason to act like this? Hmm, I don’t know. Let me think for a minute here.”
His brows crease in concern at my sudden shift in attitude, but he doesn’t budge, still standing too close , even though he is no longer touching me .
“Why. . .the hell. . . would I be acting like this? How about the fact that you claim to be my friend, that you care about me, but then you date a raging bitch whose sole purpose in life is to make the lives of every other girl at our school a living hell? Or maybe the fact that you say we are friends, but then expect me to not get upset for you when the person you choose to date treats you like shit.”
“And you just put up with it, because why ? Her popularity? Her looks? When you could literally have any girl you wanted. I swear, you have a fucking line that would wrap around the school between all the puck bunnies chasing after you, and all the other girls who just can’t get over your good looks. ”
A look of shock and amusement crosses over his face, and I feel a weariness settle in my bones underneath the layers of frustration and hurt.
“What?”
“Sutton Mae Farley. . . did you just curse ? You totally just dropped an f-bomb at me.”
Ugh.
Stupid boy.
Did he not just listen to my whole tirade?
All he cares about was whether or not I said ‘fuck’ to him?
Seriously? I want to slap the stupid smug grin right off his stupid handsome face, but then I would be no better than the bitch-queen.
Instead, I cross my arms over my chest, as if that would block out the emotions raging in my chaotic heart.
“Gah, why are boys so . . .!” My words trail off, but Cal helpfully chimes in.
“So, what? Stupid? Frustrating?”
“Oh my god! Obnoxious! You are one hundred percent, without a doubt, the most infuriating. . . obnoxious. . . guy I know.”
The grin slips and his brows narrow, and I would almost say there is a look of . . .concern? No, not concerned, but I can’t quite place it.
“How many other guys do you know?”
“What?” My brain short-circuits at the shift in conversation as it tries to keep up.
“I said, ‘How many other guys do you know?' The way he emphasizes the word ‘know,’ makes it sound more carnal , almost dirty, coming from him.
“Really?” I deadpan.
“Yeah, Shorty. I’m serious right now.”
“Just because I may not be as pretty or as popular as bi-” I catch myself before it slips free - again .
“As popular as Sarah, doesn’t mean I am a complete recluse.
My dad is the hockey coach, remember? I literally know all of the guys on the hockey team.
Just because you are on the team, and you’re Lena’s older brother, doesn’t mean you’re the only guy I ever interact with.
Not to mention the guys I hang out with in theater, band, and choir.
I do have a life outside of watching you play hockey or our lovely little chats out here in the meadow, you know. ”
At this, he frowns.
“Well, yeah. I mean, I know that but-”
“So I know other guys.” I match his tone, the insinuation clear in the way I speak. “Hell, I’ve even dated some of the guys. And at least the guys I date have the decency to treat me with respect. Which is more than I can say about the girls you choose to hang around with.”
Ok, this may be a bit of a stretch. One guy.
I’ve been on a couple of dates with one guy from the hockey team.
And that ended up being totally awkward because the whole time he was worried about what my Dad would think; meanwhile, I couldn’t stop worrying about Cal, and if he would notice, if he would even care if he saw me out with one of his teammates.
So, yeah. Needless to say, it ended before anything ever really began. But, I digress .
Cal’s frown seems glued to his face, shock and annoyance written all over his features. Not bothering to wait for a response, I turn on my heel and continue towards our houses, which are now in sight. I only get a few yards before he is trailing after me, however.
“What guys?”
I ignore him, continuing to press forward, almost to the gate that leads to my backyard.
“Sutton, what guys!”
You’re brother is an idiot
Lena-Bug: Well, no duh! I could have told you that.
Lena-Bug: In fact, I think I have told you that. Like, several times.
Lena-Bug: Why, though? What happened?
Lena-Bug: Do you need me to come over there and kick his ass?
No, nevermind.
It’s nothing, really
Lena-Bug: . . .
Lena-Bug: Uh huh. If you say so
Lena-Bug: . . .
Lena-Bug: You know. . . if you really wanted to show him how much of an idiot he is, you could always show him.
I literally have no idea what you are talking about right now.
Lena-Bug: With your actions, dummy. Show him with your actions
Lena-Bug: He takes for granted the fact that you always show up to his game. Rain or shine, sick or not.
Lena-Bug: And I know you are going to say that ‘of course’ you show up to all the home games, because your dad is the coach. But like for real, you and I both know the reason you come is because you have been in love with him since practically forever
Lena-Bug: So if you really wanted him to understand how dumb he is, just don’t go to his next home game. Trust me, he’ll get it then.