Chapter 3
3
RUE
T he day started out extraordinary with target practice, a few laps on the track (Winslow had an older bike he let me ride), and helping my friends spend money on junk we’ll use when we build our junk garden next spring. But it ended in a disaster not of my making, for a change.
The guys and I are seated around the bonfire. Leigh is MIA, but I understand why she skipped the party. She’s hanging out with her boyfriend, Seven Shanahan.
What is it like to have a boyfriend? Someone who doesn’t know of my messed-up past and who accepts me for me? My friends like me, but they would never date me. I’m one of the guys, and I am okay with that. I wouldn’t date them either.
Friendship is comfortable. Love should be something different. It should be heart-racing, breathlessness, and fluttering in the stomach.
While the guys talk about the crazy things they’ll do the moment they move into the college dorms next year, I study Malice over the rim of my red Solo cup.
Imagine my surprise when he showed up an hour after we did.
Six foot two. Tousled dark hair. A gold chain around his neck. Black shirt under his black motorcycle jacket. Is he going for the hot biker look? I don’t blame him for dressing the part.
His new ride, a black and white Suzuki motorcycle, is parked near the kegs. Dangling from the handlebar is a helmet. Strapped to the underside of the raised back seat is another helmet.
Why did I blow him a kiss, knowing full well it was him? Why did he bring his bike to the party when he rarely takes it for a ride, according to Red? Is Malice planning on taking a lucky girl for a ride?
Lucky? Pfft. What girl wants to spend time with a moody guy who grunts and mumbles and calls it a conversation? Not me. Then why can’t I look away?
Is it his face? He is beautiful with his chiseled jawline, well-defined cheekbones, and full, kissable lips with an enviable Cupid’s bow. He would ream me out if he heard his name and “beautiful” in the same sentence.
Or is it the vibe he gives off, this dangerous, standoffish energy that draws a curious girl like me in? I find dangerous to be a challenge. What will calm the danger in him? What will shed light on his dark mood?
I shift my focus to his mouth. His mouth isn’t moving. Malice doesn’t speak much, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t paying attention. He’s interested. Especially when one of the girls laughs. His blue eyes light up, and my mood sours.
Why am I annoyed that the tall, pretty girl with dark hair captured his attention? I don’t even like the guy. I’m curious, that’s all.
“Come on, Rue. It’s time to pay up.” Red gets up off the lawn chair and extends his hand to me.
He smiles, and I blink, amazed at how similar the Sterling boys look. It could’ve been Malice standing before me, except Red’s hair is gelled and spiked rather than tousled. Red is lean muscle. Malice is all bulk. His tall, bulky frame is one of the reasons he is a great offensive lineman. Not that football interests me.
I place my drink in the cupholder and set my hand in Red’s. He tugs me up and onto my feet. Our movement draws Malice’s attention. His gaze drops to my hand in Red’s before shooting back to my face. He narrows his eyes and locks his jaw.
Is he imagining that Red is Red’s brother, Midnight, and I’m my sister, Riley? When will Malice stop having a crush on my sister? When will he see me ? I sigh. Why wish for something that will never happen?
“What do you have planned?” I lost a bet to Red.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” He picks up the backpack at his feet and pulls me behind him. Winslow and Shay follow.
We walk past Malice and Cambridge High’s in-crowd. We’re almost past the crowd when I’m grabbed by the arm and yanked hard. I collide with a large body. The scent of leather is strong, and I hate that the heat from Malice’s arm on my lower back seeps through my shirt, branding my skin.
“Don’t do it.” His breath is warm on the tip of my ear. “Don’t go down that path. It won’t end well for you.”
Malice expects failure from me. Nothing new there. I stare at his Adam’s apple. His fingers tighten around my arm. A warning? Concern? Nope. He is showing the enthralled crowd he’s in charge of this situation and not Loser Rue Lee.
I pry his fingers off my arm and step back. He glares. I stare back. He takes a step into my personal space. We’re toe to toe, but I don’t budge. He clenches his jaw, and I meet his gaze, defying him when a different girl would bow down to Cambridge High’s royalty. That’s how it is in high school. Jocks are treated like they are rulers of the school.
“Call it a night, Rue.”
“I’m not ready.”
“That’s not what you said that night.”
How dare he bring up a private moment in such a public place? “You have no right.” My voice trembles, and his eyes soften. Does he see me for me? Is he through being angry with me? Malice blinks, and a moody jerk replaces the carefree boy with the infectious laughter who I fell hard for.
“Go sit and enjoy the rest of the night with your boys. Leave the path be.”
And pass up the chance to prove him wrong? Uh-uh. I barge past him and head down the path. Loudly and with pity in his voice, his words follow me. “Stop following Red around like a lovesick puppy. He’s meant for more.”
The other kids’ stares bore into my back, and there’s snickering. My friends rush to my side. Red reaches for my hand, and I sidestep him.
“ Rue .”
There’s pity in his voice too. I get it. I’m not good enough for a Sterling boy and never will be. They are meant for more than the attention of a girl with nothing to her name and a reputation for being a loser.
This pity party has gone on long enough. They don’t call the shots; I do. I decide what mistakes I make because I’m the one who has to live with the consequences.
“Let’s get this over with. I’m ready to ditch this party and head back to your place,” I say loud enough for those behind us to hear and get the message that there is no following done on my part. I wouldn’t be returning to Red’s had I not been invited.
Malice calls out the obvious in his know-it-all voice. “He’ll ask you to jump.”
“So, I’ll jump,” I say over my shoulder. “What’s the big deal?”
Malice catches up and takes a spot between me and Shay, his steps in tandem with mine.
“You’ll get hurt.”
Translation: You’re a loser and a failure.
“I lost a bet, and I’m good for my word.”
“Losing a bet and losing your life are two different things. One of them, you don’t come back from.”
“I’ll risk it.”
“You risk too much.”
“It’s not your life, Malice. Now go away. Leave me alone.”
“What if I don’t? Will you sic your boyfriend on me?”
“Yes.” I up my speed, not caring whether the guys catch up. I want to get this bet over with and distance myself from Malice.
A hand catches mine. His hold is gentle, and his fingers are playful, toying with my fingertips. It’s different from Malice’s grip. I interlace my fingers with Red’s.
“Geez, that took away the element of surprise,” he mutters.
“What’s in the backpack?” Anything to get my mind off Malice and his jerk comments.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
I’m not a fan of surprises. “Did you know he would be here?”
“Nah, I heard he would be at a different party. I guess he changed his mind.”
I wish he wouldn’t have.
“You shouldn’t test his temper,” Red warns.
“How could I not when he’s a jerk?”
“A jerk who puts on a good show,” Shay says from behind us. “You never know what you’ll get with that one.”
“You two are like the bull and the matador.” Winslow puts in his two cents.
“Who’s who?” I ask.
We walk down the path in a staggered pattern, blocking Malice’s attempts at pushing his way between us as the path narrows.
“You’re the matador,” Winslow says.
“Malice is,” I say. “He’s also the bull.”
“Explain,” Winslow says.
“Matador because he goads me with his jerk comments. Bull because he comes at me with the least amount of provocation.”
Winslow laughs. “Riley taught you all the big words, didn’t she?”
I smirk. “You wish.”
Soon, we reach the clearing. In front of me is the infamous tree with the rope swing. Shay and Winslow step around us and glance at the drop-off. Shay whistles. Winslow tilts his head at the lake below. “Are you sure? There’s time to back out.”
“I don’t have the money.”
“I can loan you the hundred dollars,” Shay offers.
“Thanks, but no.” I would rather jump than be indebted to someone.
“Your funeral,” Shay says.
The back of my head tingles. I look over my shoulder at the same time Red announces that he has a bikini for me to change into. So that’s his surprise for me. Great.
Malice stares at me with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He looks from the bikini to me and off into the distance. He shakes his head. I see the warning in his eyes. Jump, and I’m in big trouble with a capital T. When have I ever listened to him? The one time I did, he broke my heart.
Red sees where I’m looking. “Don’t give him the time of day, Rue. He’s a prick.”
His words surprise me. My sister is indecisive and has a bleeding heart, but I would never admit she can be a pain in the butt. “Hey, what happened to family and loyalty?”
“It went out the door when you demanded I not speak his name.”
“Aw, you’re such a great friend.” I hug Red.
There’s a growl from my right.
Malice yanks me out of Red’s arms. “Don’t do this. Trust me, there will be hell to pay if you do.”
Trust him? If I do, I’ll have to forgive him for hurting me, and I’m not ready to do that. Not until he sees me for me. I tug my arm out of Malice’s hold, flip him the peace sign, and change out of my clothes into the fiery red bikini as my friends form a human shield.
I stuff my clothes inside the backpack, walk to the rope swing with my head held high and my shoulders pulled back, and hope to God keeping my word doesn’t cost me my life.
Please don’t let me die tonight. I have so much left to do on this earth .
Anyways, I haven’t had a boyfriend and would like to have at least one before graduation.