Chapter 43
James
“What do you mean, Jasper’s not here?”
She’d only been at my house for less than a minute and she was already getting on my nerves.
“Look, White, I don’t know what the fuck to tell you. My dad forgot to tell your mom. Jasper’s at therapy today.”
She didn’t seem to care about what I had to say; she went past me and walked into the house.
She was wrapped in a cherry-red hoodie. I also noticed that she still had her uniform skirt on under that mass of clothes.
I dared to discretely undress her with my eyes, like I did whenever I wanted to, even though she never noticed.
“When is he coming back?” she asked, disappointed.
I was about to kick her ass out of the house when Jasper’s satisfied expression came to mind. It was hard to admit it, but seeing my brother communicate like he did with her was extremely rare. And I couldn’t deny that it made me happy.
She stared at me perplexed. “So should I head out?”
I ran my fingers through my hair, which was still damp from the shower.
“I don’t know, do you want to stay with me? I’ll invite you into my room and we’ll have a tea party and talk about our feelings?”
“Asshole,” she retorted, head held high.
She got all embarrassed when I brushed against her, but then she had the courage to talk to me like that? Who the fuck did she think she was?
I sighed to cool down; meanwhile she was already walking around the table to put a folder on top of it.
“Here.”
Oh yeah, that damn report.
“I’ll write it up and then turn it in tomorrow. But you have to work on it. Do we have a deal, Hunter?”
June tried to speak in an authoritative tone, but it came out as distrustful more than anything else. It was clear that she didn’t think I was up to the task.
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your homework. I want to vape,” I replied, taking all my anger out on her.
“Not while studying.”
“Oh yeah, because we’re studying together now, White? Didn’t you say I had to do it myself?”
I grabbed a piece of rolling paper, and she pulled the folder away so the weed wouldn’t get all over it.
“What are you doing?”
“Rolling a joint. You want a hit?”
“Are you nuts? No.”
I continued under her irritated stare, and not long after she started whining.
“Look, Hunter, I’ve been trying to be nice and amenable in order to—”
Right then, her phone vibrated. She ran to her backpack, which she’d left in a corner of the kitchen. Her uniform skirt went up steeply as she bent down to grab her phone.
I darted my eyes. Okay, it was fun to mess with her, but I definitely shouldn’t stare at William’s girlfriend’s ass.
I heard her mutter in a low, heated voice, and without thinking about it, I went over to her.
“Who is it?”
Who is it? What the fuck was I saying? She turned around and sighed.
“Will.”
When would he decide to talk to her seriously?
It didn’t make sense for him to get into a situation like that. Not now, when we still had unfinished business with Austin.
I saw her disappear into the living room to talk privately, so I decided to give her space and walked out into the yard.
I took a few hits then heard her come out in a frenzy.
“Give it to me,” she said, holding her hand out.
“What do you want now?”
She looked at me right in the eye without blinking. Sometimes I got the vibe that she was scared of me in addition to the scorn she felt. Other times she wasn’t afraid of me at all. Like now.
“To smoke.”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, princess. What’s going on?” I asked, moving the joint away.
“Let me smoke. You asked me before, or am I wrong?”
“Did something happen?”
“No, let me smoke.”
“Did you hit your head?”
“You’re insulting yourself, you know that?” She was always right. I passed her the joint.
Our fingers brushed against each other almost accidentally, but she pulled her hand back as soon as she realized it.
“You have to smoke the joint, not stare at it,” I teased.
“I thought about it again, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“Try it. Nothing will happen to you.” I chuckled.
She wasn’t laughing. Her gaze tied me to her with an intense stare, as if there were no barriers between us.
I brought the joint to her lips and felt the heat of her breath and the softness of her mouth on my fingers. I shivered but she didn’t notice. She had it between her lips, took a deep breath and then started coughing.
“Ugh, gross.”
“It poisons your lungs. Of course it’s gross.” I shrugged, smoking again.
“Then why do you do it?”
“Because you get used to it, and it becomes a habit. All you can do is poison yourself day after day.”
“Do you think it’s less poisonous doing a little at a time?”
I took another long drag before answering her.
“Your body gets used to it. So, yeah.”
“But it really tastes awful,” she repeated, reaching her hand out to me. I passed it to her this time; she smoked it herself.
I glanced at her. She noticed. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and then looked down, embarrassed.
“What?” she asked, irritated.
“Nothing.”
“Are you listening to me or not?”
I curled my lip into a grimace and grumbled.
“What’d you say?”
“That you should quit. And not just smoking.”
I broke into a derisive smile.
“Why is that? Let’s hear what the princess has to say.”
“Because it’ll kill you. You know that.”
“Who says I’m not already dead?”
“And tell me, do those reheated e-girl quotes from circa 2018 impress the ladies?”
She furrowed her brows and curled her lips into what looked like a childish snicker. The weed was starting to hit her.
“You’re such an idiot. I’m just giving death a nudge. Maybe that way it’ll come find me earlier than planned.”
She didn’t seem like she could mask her emotions any longer. But she wasn’t laughing anymore. She stared attentively at her short, bitten nails.
“We all gotta die of something, you know? Not knowing when it’ll happen is fucking exciting. Don’t you think?” I pressed, passing her the joint again.
She shifted her eyes nervously, then pulled up the hood on her red hoodie, letting two blond locks of hair peek out.
Red looked good on her. She almost looked pretty.
“I don’t know. I think it’s stupid to destroy yourself for a little moment of pleasure. I’m not gonna have any more. Here.”
She handed me the joint, shaking her head no.
“So you’ve already decided to live a straight-edged life without even a bit of pleasure?”
“I didn’t say that.” She balked, almost offended. “I’m just saying it’s impossible to live your whole life that way like you do, James. It’s impossible to survive it.”
“I have a thing for impossible things.” I blew the smoke out at her. She was hooked. I felt it. I saw it.
Do you want to be with Will? Fine, but don’t act like I don’t have that effect on you. And I’m not one to beat around the bush.
“I saw you. You’re always staring at my lips, Snow White.” She covered her face with the excuse of adjusting her hood.
“Why do you always act like such a bad guy? You’re not.”
“And why do you always have to act like a Goody Two-shoes? You’re not either.” She seemed floored by my answer.
“Based on what?”
“You want to kiss me even though I’m your boyfriend’s best friend.”
Blushing furiously, she put her hand on her face and covered her whole cheek.
She was embarrassed, and I had the urge to slam her against the wall and stick my tongue down her throat. But only to show her that I was right. I could even turn on a girl like her with one kiss. It certainly wasn’t because I wanted her.
She closed her eyes. Smoking slowed down her normally quick thoughts.
“No, I don’t want to. You’re off base. And your statement isn’t true. Your arrogance makes you think that. Not to mention that tough-guy look you have, does it really give you that much self-confidence?”
“You’re all blah, blah, blah. I stopped listening after the first word you said, White.”
“I hate you, Hunter.”
I grumbled, sticking my lips out, quickly capturing her attention again.
She could say she hated me, but the truth was anything but.
“But if you act like that, I’ll use that as an excuse to look at your lips,” I murmured, lingering on her full lips.
“Sorry, what?”
She parted them to lick them. That innocent gesture sparked dirty thoughts and conflicting emotions in me.
Fuck, her lips were beautiful.
Maybe the weed I put in was too strong. She was just as confused as I was.
I want to lick your lips. Now.
I would’ve told her already if she wasn’t William’s girlfriend. Or maybe not? She was still June White.
What the hell was I thinking? She’d tell me to go to hell instantly. But her eyes darted down, to find my lips again.
If only you knew what I’d done with these lips, maybe you wouldn’t look at me like that anymore.
Our furtive glances stopped at the same time when I resumed our conversation again.
“Tell me something, White.”
She lowered her head, waiting for me to say something.
“Was what you told me the other night true?”
“Was what true?”
“What you told me about your brother.”
She got up quickly. “Yeah, why would I lie about that?”
“I’m not saying you would. I’m just asking because—” I blew a cloud of smoke in her face, and she shrank into her hoodie. “Why did you tell me?”
“It just felt natural.”
“If it upset you—”
“No, of course it didn’t.”
“Even Will explained it. Sometimes I’m too direct.”
Bullshit.
“Did you tell him too?”
I was going down a dangerous path. Too dangerous, even for me.
“No. It just hasn’t come up,” she admitted.
I stayed quiet. I couldn’t keep secrets from her. If Will found out . . .
“James, I don’t understand why you’d hold on to something I told you in a moment of weakness.”
“The honest way you told me,” I replied spontaneously.
“What do you mean?”
“I felt envious.”
We went back to confronting each other with our eyes. One, two, three, maybe four seconds. Then we both looked down.
“James.”
I felt her eyes burn my fingers as she tapped the joint to get the ash off.
“I wanna ask you something else.”
I closed my eyes. “If you must.”
“What were Amelia and Brian doing in your family photos?” A busybody, that’s what you are.
“Mind your own fucking business. That doesn’t concern you.”
“You were a cute kid, though.” She said it laughing, almost childishly, amplifying the envy I felt for her carefreeness.
Her way of prying into my past started to make me uncomfortable.
“You don’t have to know shit,” I spat, standing up.
I put the blunt out in the ashtray on the veranda table. When I walked past her to go back in, I noticed she was getting pale.
“I need—”
At a certain point she tried to get up but dizzily wobbled instead.
“You okay?”
“I think so,” she hinted, in a less-than-convincing tone. I got suspicious.
“Should I get you some water?”
“No, it’s better if I—”
“What? Spit it out.”
“James, I’m not feeling well.”
I came closer and supported both of her arms, preventing her from collapsing. “Do you have low blood pressure?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You should’ve fucking told me. I wouldn’t’ve let you smoke in the first place.”
She put her forehead on my shoulder, so I put my arm around her sides and brought her to the couch.
“Are you able to sit down by yourself?”
She lay down haphazardly, oblivious to my presence.
Her uniform skirt barely lifted up, and her solid thighs peeked out. Her long eyelashes stayed still, and her eyes were closed with such an innocent expression that it made me feel weird.
She was a girl like any other, and I should’ve thought of every way I’d bang her. Instead, I pulled down the bottom of her skirt to her knees, making sure I didn’t graze against her skin. Then I wrapped her in Jasper’s Super Mario blanket.
I thought of the worst-case scenario for a moment.
I imagined William walking through the door.
He’d never forgive me. And not just because she was collapsed on my couch.
I had a vivid imagination, and my thoughts had been going too far for a while.
I shooed away those ideas and sat at the kitchen table.
I read the title of the assignment the vice principal gave us. Gender Disparity in Literature.
Let’s see what princess wrote, I told myself, skimming the lines of writing.
A foreword, introduction, and the development?
Look at how she beats around the problem without ever facing it.
I’ll deal with what he made her redo. The concept was well written but it didn’t elaborate, as if she was afraid to show herself.
There was no substance to it. What an idiot. She had such childish handwriting.
I spent an hour on that damn essay as she slept. At a certain point her blond hair emerged from the couch.
“Where?” Her eyes went wide when she realized she was at my house.
“You have interesting ideas in that little head of yours,” I told her.
“What are you doing?” she asked apprehensively when she saw me holding her homework.
“I finished it.”
“Oh no, I totally forgot.”
“I already did it. Really.”
She seemed skeptical. “You let me pass out?”
“What else was I supposed to do?”
Disoriented and with messy hair, she looked around.
“I’m starving.”
“You’re stoned. I’m hungry too. Let’s order something.” I put the pages back in the folder.
“Here?” She stared at me, almost scandalized.
“What the fuck do you want, a formal invitation?”
I saw her check her phone. “It’s late. I better get home,” she muttered hesitantly, before picking up her backpack off the floor.
“Don’t forget this.” I handed her the homework.
She examined it carefully. “Thanks, James, um . . .”
I frowned when she unexpectedly came closer to me. I froze and took a deep breath before closing my eyes.
A kiss on the cheek. Then she dashed off.