Chapter 8
Devyn Thirteen Years Ago
S top freakin’ out!” I snap at Shana through my teeth. My eyes stalk Shane Porter, the eleventh grader on my brother’s rodeo team who winks at me every day when I pass by his locker. Dustin would kill him if he knew he even looked at me, let alone winked. But it makes my heart beat super-fast when he does it. Besides, what my brother doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
An eleventh grader and a ninth grader, especially one like Shane, who won the Tri-County Rodeo championships two years in a row…it’s unheard of. In his freshman year, he beat a thirty-seven-year-old record, too. I’m not in his league no matter how much he winks.
Shana’s hands are shaking around her Solo cup because she gets nervous anytime we do anything remotely fun or exciting, but I managed to drag her to the party tonight anyway. She has a thing for someone on the Rodeo team, too. Only she won’t tell me who.
“I’m not freaking out, Devyn, I’m just saying that if we aren’t home by eleven-oh-one, my dad is going to call your dad, who’s going to realize we are not, in fact, in your bedroom watching TGIF, and we will be grounded for life when they both find out where we are.” She runs out of air at the end of her lecture and takes a deep breath. “That’s all I’m saying, okay?”
“Okay,” I tell her. Because it’s fine. I have no intention of staying here past eleven, anyhow. I set my cup down on the counter, but then think better of it and throw it away altogether. I’m going to be away from it for long enough that I won’t be able to know if someone’s put something in it when I return. I didn’t want to drink, anyway. Beer is nasty, and I’m here for one thing.
I stand on the hearth and scan the living room, but I don’t see Shane down here. Or any of the other wannabe cowboys, for that matter.
“Shana, upstairs!” I shout over the music. She nods and follows me.
I’ve been around my brothers and his friends long enough to know the hangout spot at Robbie’s house, where the party is right now. Robbie’s parents are loaded, so there’s a fourth-floor renovated attic that is totally soundproof and has a full bar and entertainment system.
Everyone worth knowing at Pine Forest High will be there. And they will be…making out. Or whatever. That’s why I’m here.
I want a first kiss.
And if I’m being honest, the boy I’d rather have it with is never going to happen, so before ninth grade gets all crazy, and before I see Miss Priss Lemon Perkins at the regional Jr. Miss Pageant and she rubs her stupid baseball champ boyfriend in my face again, I will have had my first kiss with the star rodeo champion of Pine Forest High.
Take that, Lemongrass.
I know I shouldn’t care about this stuff, but I’m almost fifteen and haven’t kissed a soul. I’m a minority, honestly, an anomaly. In my friend group, at least. And I’m tired of waiting around for it to happen with someone who’s probably off kissing other girls and will never ever think of me that way in one million years.
If I’m gonna kiss someone, might as well be someone I can use against stupid Lemon Perkins.
As we walk up the second and third flights of stairs, Shana gets uneasy. “Devyn, where are we going? The party is down there. The only people upstairs are going to be doing something shady like drugs or…having s-e-x.”
“Don’t spell sex, Shana.”
She’s always acting like such a baby, and it drives me nuts. The crazy thing is, she’s already had her first kiss.
Again, she won’t tell me who, because she’s mortified it even happened, I guess. Who knows? Her parents never let her watch cable, and I blame that for her unusual level of innocence in times like this.
Still, she should understand why I need to get this done. “I have a plan, so just relax. Your crush might be up there too, for all you know.”
She blushes but keeps her head down while she follows me up the steps.
“I wish you’d tell me who it is. I could see if Dustin could talk to them, and—”
“What are you doing, Devyn?”
“Huh?”
“What are you doing? What’s your plan? You’re just going to, what? March up there and see Shane and kiss him? All to prove to some dumb pageant queen—”
“Princess.”
“What?”
“Princess. You said queen. She’s not the queen, because she hasn’t won…and I fully intend to win the crown myself, so she’s a princess.”
Shana stops walking but keeps her hand on the rail until I turn to face her. She blinks at me like she intends to challenge my snooty behavior, but she gives up.
“You are aggravating sometimes.”
“My plan is to catch them playing a kissing game, and as long as Dustin doesn’t get cut from his shift at work earlier than he’s supposed to, I can insert myself next to Shane, spin the bottle just a tad too poorly, and finally get my dream first kiss.”
I stare off into the fake sunset to add to the dramatics for Shana, but she does not seem impressed.
“This is a stupid idea,” she says. But we keep walking. “I don’t even think you like Shane. I think you really like—”
“I can’t, Shana. He hates me. You know that. Besides, it doesn’t matter if I like Shane or not. He’s hot and popular, and kissing him can only help my high school status.”
The attic is at the top of the last flight of stairs behind a locked door, but as fate would have it, it is unlocked today. I turn the handle and open the door, expecting to smell pot or beer or something worse up here, but it’s neat and tidy, aside from five or six pizza boxes and a few opened drinks on the bar. I scan my eyes around the room, appreciating the layout when I hear Shana gasp beside me.
“Ew. People are humping up here. Let’s go back.”
“You go. I’m staying. I can tell it makes you uncomfortable, so if you don’t want to wait around, it’s fine. I’ll find a ride.”
“Suit yourself,” she sighs. “But I’m not leaving you here. I’ll be right downstairs waiting. If you don’t come back down in thirty minutes, I’ll send a hired hit for Shane.”
“Shhh!” I whisper and shove her to the door as we both giggle.
I click it shut behind her, only to be yanked back roughly by my hair and pulled into a hard body. My breath hitches slightly, and I tense up, ready to break away from whoever this is that has the actual nerve, but then I recognize the smell of him.
I hate that I like it.
“Ponygirl? What are you doing here?” He scans my body with an irritated huff he has no business huffing, the asshole. “Wearing that?”
I yank my hair free and whip around, shoving Hunter away before he can feel the goosebumps that I loathe come from his closeness. I’m not surprised he made an appearance at Robbie’s tonight; I just didn’t expect him to come ahead of my brother. They usually travel as a set. Dusty won’t be far behind him once the Sugar Stable closes in an hour or so.
Which means I need to lose Tweedle-Dumb over here, find Shane, and act fast on the kissing plan.
Hunter takes in my jean skirt and cowgirl boots and snickers. “You better get out of here lookin’ like that, kiddo.”
“Don’t call me kiddo!” I snap, enraged that he even thinks he gets a say. “You aren’t that much older. And I can wear whatever I please, thank you.”
I throw my hands on my hips to show him I mean business and he can take his skirt comments somewhere else. I’m in high school now. I’m not the little tween tagging along that they seem to think I still am. I can take perfectly good care of myself, and he and Dustin need to get used to that.
He frowns at my lack of obedience and tugs off his hoodie. “Here. You can wrap this around that piece of fabric that’s barely covering your ass.” He wraps it around me just like he says and then he ties the sleeves so tight around my waist that my stomach might burst. Or maybe that’s just how I feel whenever I’m around him. He makes me so mad sometimes.
I look down at the sleeves dangling in front of my jean skirt and cock my hip to the side. “And what are you gonna do if I don’t wear your nasty, smelly hoodie?”
His jaw clenches, and he gets up close and personal with my face. From a distance, I’m sure it looks like we’re flirting, not fighting. But then, I never can tell the difference when it’s Hunter.
“I’ll tell Dusty you’re here. Bet he doesn’t know, does he?”
I try to hide my reaction, but I suck at hiding anything around stupid Hunter. I guess because, aside from my brother, he’s known me longer than anyone. He can tell when I’m lying, and that freaking sucks. It’s like having two brothers rather than just one.
Only, that doesn’t feel right. Hunter’s not a brother. And I don’t like thinking of him like he is. Which is why it annoys me when he tousles my hair and keeps his arm around my back possessively as we approach the bar like he very much is my older brother.
“Hey, guys, look who came to hang.”
We veer to a smaller hangout area with three couches and a game table in the center. A few people are playing cards. One person is unidentifiable since they haven’t unlocked lips with their partner since I entered the room with Shana five minutes ago. Ew. And the rest are a handful of rodeo team members I half know from being around the competitions. Most of them are juniors and seniors, and—
Bless my stars. I smile widely and shove away from Big Brother 2.0 as I lock eyes with none other than Shane Porter.
Hunter Thirteen Years Ago
O f all the girls to walk into Robbie’s, how did it end up being Devyn? And of all the things in the world she could be wearing, why did it have to be a teeny skirt and a top that barely qualifies as fabric? Every single eye in the room is on her, and I don’t like it for one second.
She’s Dusty’s little sister. She’s basically mine to protect when he’s not around.
Mine.
And it’s not the first time that word has dropped into my mind when I’ve been around Devyn. I shove the feeling deep down every time, though because again, she is my best friend’s little sister, and I’ve known her since she was in Barbie pajamas. It’s not a thing you do. You just don’t mess with someone that close to you. Someone with so many possible ramifications.
And if we did have something? What would happen if we broke up? Would I lose both Campbells? My best friend, too? I couldn’t risk that.
Still, Dusty isn’t here, and therefore, per bro-code, she’s mine to protect until he arrives.
She could have made the job easier by not being the prettiest girl in the room.
And the least dressed. I sigh and rub my temples as I get the sudden urge to put more space between Devyn and the guys, but before I can, Shane plants his huge ass between the two of us.
“Hey, Isaac, who’s your friend?” He lets his eyes roam her body and smiles at her the way I’ve seen him do to hundreds of girls before. I don’t like it. “You’re Campbell’s little sis, aren’t you?”
I don’t like it one bit. I especially don’t like how pink her cheeks get when he asks if she has a date for the dance yet.
The fuck?
“She does,” I blurt, and Shane and Devyn turn to me like they’ve just noticed I’m here.
“I do?” She folds her arm across her chest.
“You’re going with me,” I say, because I honestly don’t know what else to do. “As friends,” I add, feeling like I have to establish some boundaries. If not for her, then at least for me. I’m not sure I should be making my own decisions all of a sudden. I just asked—no, told my best friend’s little sister I will go to the damn dance with her.
Dusty’s gonna kill me. And Devyn knows it, too, because she smirks and clicks her tongue at me in that sassy ass way I hate that I like.
“You must want your ass kicked. But I’ll play.” She turns to Shane, and I almost think I see regret cross her face. “Sorry, Shane, I forgot I have to babysit this loser over here.” She shoves her thumb over her shoulder at me.
Shane looks confused, but that makes sense. This is all very strange.
“Okay, well…are you two a thing, or…?”
“No!” she shouts before I can say anything. “We’re not. We’re just friends.” she says it the same as I said it a few minutes ago, but it feels like a sting coming from her. I don’t want her to think of me as a friend.
But I don’t want her to think of me as a brother either, if I’m being honest.
Shane winks at Devyn, making her chest pinken and my knuckles clench. “Well, then, Miss Campbell, we were about to play spin the bottle. Wanna join?”
I don’t miss the way her eyes light up at his question. She really wants to play. She wants to play with him. I’m not sure what to do because this isn’t a short skirt and I can’t just wrap my hoodie around a multi-player make-out game, but I also can’t let Dev go swapping spit and getting felt up by guys from the team and not do something about it. Dustin would literally kill me. No, dismember me. Remove my balls at the slaughterhouse and feed them to the pigs.
I shoot him a quick text to see when he’s coming, but he doesn’t reply before the game begins. Devyn is still wedged between Shane and Garrison, a senior, and I’m on Shane’s other side just waiting for this nightmare to end. A few people go, and none of them land on Devyn, but then it’s Shane’s turn, and just before he reaches out to grab the bottle, I see him wink at her and then again at Garrison.
It happens so fast I almost don’t see it.
But I do.
Shane exchanges a look with Garrison, who nods back. You’d hardly notice if you weren’t looking, but I’m looking. I’ve seen them use this method before…the pair of them. They’ll work together to make the bottle land on whichever girl they want.
It’s not right. Regardless of whether a girl sits down to play and wants a kiss, something feels off about rigging it to land on certain ones. It’s dishonest.
My hands clench so tight my fingernails are causing bloody little crescents on my palms, but I don’t care. All I care about is what happens when that thing stops spinning.
Shane sets the bottle down, and it’s not like I can stop him. What am I supposed to say? I’m sweating bullets, but why? I’m pretty sure Devyn wants this fucker to kiss her. She came up here all dolled up looking for precisely him, and she can’t even argue that. She talked him up all summer long. It’s no secret she’s got herself a little crush, but I didn’t think she’d be this bold.
I also didn’t think he’d bite back. Fuckin’ shithead. She’s a freshman.
It’s Dusty’s sister. He’s our teammate. She’s off limits.
And if she’s off limits to me, then she is absolutely off limits to Shane.
I scoff at myself for even thinking like that. Devyn is most certainly off limits to me. And everyone in this room. And as the bottle stops abruptly, pointed at the girl in question, I lose it.
Shane leans in, angling his head, and I see her. She looks at me for one quick moment with a question nestled in her stare. A dare.
And that right there is all I need.
Shane will not kiss my girl tonight.
Abso-fucking-lutely not.
Devyn Thirteen Years Ago
B efore I know what’s happening, Shane is shoved to the ground, and I’m thrown to the side of him. My shoes crunch against the floor as I stand, the table flipped, and the bottle shattered all over the floor where two bodies are throwing punches at one another.
I don’t even need to see him to know one of them is Hunter. But why?
I don’t understand.
I came up here for Shane. I wanted to kiss Shane. Shane wanted to ask me to the dance, and Hunter stepped in the way. Then he blocks my chances at a first kiss with the star of the school?
“She’s Dustin’s little sister, bro! You can’t mess with her,” he shouts before throwing a punch into the side of Shane’s nose. I hear a gross crack and a growl as Shane spins and shoves his elbow into Hunter’s side.
“I don’t care whose little sister she is, Isaac. I think you’re just jealous she wants some of this,” he kicks Hunter in the gut and then rips his shirt off and does a quick belly roll show of his abs while some of the others in the room cheer him on, “and she doesn’t want any of that.” He gestures to Hunter, who’s sadly crumpled on the ground, and I cringe.
Why I care is beyond me. Shane might be as dumb as a doornail…and he’s certainly acting like a d-bag right now, but I knew that about him beforehand.
Hunter, on the other hand, has no excuse for his completely immature behavior, coming up here and fighting for me like he’s my boyfriend or something.
I pause at that. Because something about it makes me even angrier. And I don’t know if it’s anger that he acts like my boyfriend or that he isn’t my boyfriend. And I hate that. I hate how confusing he always is. Like this summer at the lake when he acted like something more was going on between us, and then became a total ass to me whenever my brother was around.
No, I know where we stand. It’s about time he knew, too. “Just go, Hunter!” Both boys stop throwing punches, but they don’t release one another as they look up at me. I’m still wrapped up in Hunter’s hoodie while I step up on my soapbox to reprimand him. “Stop treating me like I’m your responsibility. I’m not some little girl who needs to be taken care of, and it certainly wouldn’t be your job if I were.”
Suddenly, the room is dead silent. But the crowd is no longer looking at me or the shitshow on the floor. Eyes wide, flip phones out snapping photos, jaws dropped…they are looking behind me.
“No, that would be my job,” my brother’s voice booms.
Shane backs off as soon as he sees Dustin. Hunter pushes himself up, covered in blood and bruises, and it bothers me that it bothers me. Screw him for being a caveman; that isn’t my fault. It’s his own damn fault if he can’t handle a guy kissing me.
But it’s in the moment he’s looking between me and my brother, still dripping in sweat from fighting for my dignity that wasn’t even his to fight over, that I realize…Hunter Isaac has a crush.
On me.