3. Teddy
THREE
TEDDY
“Please tell me again why the fuck we’re taking gym our senior year?” Cash grumbles shortly after lunch, tossing aside his khakis to pull on his ugly mesh shorts. Snorting, I shake my head and tug on my short sleeve shirt, sniffing at the collar as I do. I can’t remember the last time I took it home to give it a wash, but at least I don’t have major body odor like our other male counterparts.
Brant, naked as the day he was born, runs around the locker room, using his towel as a whip, his laughter boisterous as he snaps it at his best friend. I wonder when he will tell everyone he’s gay. My guess is never, considering who his parents are.
“Because we failed freshman year and made a vow to retake it senior year for an easy credit.”
Cash slams his locker shut and gives me a shocked look while I tie my tennis shoes. “Who’s fucking idea was that?”
I smirk.
“Yours, dipshit, so stop complaining.”
His grin flourishes, and he juts his thumb over his shoulder toward Brant. “He must’ve failed, too.”
Meandering out the back doors to the track and field, I answer his sarcasm with my own.
“Nah, Brant just takes gym every year so he doesn’t have to look more idiotic than he is. Brain versus brawn and all that.”
“Sadly, his best idea was planting that coke on us.”
We break out into a warm-up jog around the auburn-hued track, the day uncharacteristically sunny and humid, the boughs of heavy evergreens sweeping the freshly manicured landscaping. Behind us, perched high on a hill, the massive stone facade of Seattle Prep glares down at all of the students, its gothic architecture stunning, the gray foreboding building ancient and filled with secrets. The long glass windows glint in the rare sun, and sweat pools between my shoulder blades after only half a lap.
The students who have completed their warm-up gather in the center of the track where the grass is worn down to nubs. A few are stretching, some of the less athletic ones panting and red-cheeked. The only thing I do to keep myself in shape is stalk and murder people. Takes a lot more strength than one might think, or believe me capable of. I’m often teased for being tall and gaunt, having yet to fill out, but I’ve no doubt I could easily take on any of these assholes and win without even breaking a sweat.
Cash and I make our way over to the group, waiting for instruction from our two gym teachers. One, a young man fresh out of college, the new assistant coach for our lacrosse team, and the other, a wizened woman in her sixties who has worked here since the dawn of time. Her sour glance at all of us makes my stomach twist. She enjoys torturing her students as much as I enjoy lunging for the kill, but she’s safe from the voices in my head. As much of a hard ass as she is, she’s never been unkind to me, treating all of her students the same.
“This will be your last trail run of the year, kids. Partner up. The team to make it back to me first will earn extra credit if they need it, and they won’t have to dress down for gym the rest of the week.”
“Fuck yeah,” Cash hisses beside me, holding his hand low, palm open. I slap it, fighting my grin. It’s not like we will win because we’re fast and in shape, but because we will figure out a way to cheat just to piss off Brant. Everyone pairs off quickly, a group of bubbly girls flirting with said bully and his jock friends.
“Miss Peterson, Eden doesn’t have a partner,” Ashley points out. “Probably because everyone knows how slow she is.”
The entire class collectively laughs, and even the new teacher fights to hide his grin. Fucker. I grit my teeth in annoyance, eyes finding Eden. She stands silently in the small crowd, skinny arms crossed, pale legs like twin sticks jutting out of her too-big shorts. Her shoes are barely clinging to life, old ratty Converse high tops.
Miss Peterson glances around the group of girls, searching for any other singleton and finding none. My body tenses, turning toward the freakish girl, and Cash punches my arm. “Stop it, asshole.”
Our teacher’s eyes land on me, and she nods her head in our direction.
“Eden, join Cash and Teddy today, dear.”
Her eyes widen, and in the sunlight, they’re the color of pale twin amethysts, round like a doll’s in her porcelain face. The voices in my head perk up, and warmth flares through my chest. Blood would paint her skin so beautifully.
“Fucking hell,” Cash mutters while I fight a grin.
“Get going!” Miss Peterson barks, ignoring everyone’s shock. Brant and his pal Aiden jog by us, checking our shoulders as they go.
“It’s perfect!” he calls, turning to jog backwards and grin at us. “A freak for the freaks to share!”
Cash, utterly annoyed, huffs and jogs off, leaving Eden and me alone with the teachers. She doesn’t bother to even look my way, just sets her jaw and takes off into the woods, the trees swallowing her phantom-like form whole.
When I follow, the voices can’t help but to paint a gruesome image in my brain, the kind where only one of us returns from the forest, her blood cooling against my skin.
We catch up to Cash quickly, because of all the things he is, a runner isn’t one of them. Eden remains silent, her pace light footed but nowhere near athletic. Stuck at the back of the pack, I don’t mind; that prize was intangible for us, anyways. Brant is probably already back and asking if he can go again.
“Gettin’ slow, Johnson,” I pant, my eyes stuck on Eden’s long braid, a few tendrils of hair snaking loose as it bounces against her bony shoulders.
“Fuck…off…” he growls, jealous that our time is being tampered with by Eden. For four years, it’s been him and I and no one else. I suppose we’ve grown protective over one another in that sense, not keen to share when sharing would only bring us misery. But Eden…Eden has had no one throughout high school, and a sting of pity zaps through me. Pushing myself to jog faster, I catch up to the two, her sandwiched safely between us on the wide, dirt path, sunlight filtering in through the canopy above and painting the ferns a golden hue. The warm air is tinged with the scent of rot and dirt.
I glance down at Eden, who refuses to look at either of us.
“Brant said we could share you,” I jest, prodding at her defenses and seeing what will garner a reaction. Her cheeks instantly blot with more blood, her fists clenching so tightly her knuckles blanche. Cash’s head whips in my direction, and he glares at me over her. Smooshed between us, she’s nothing more than a tiny, defenseless mouse.
“Fuck no,” Cash growls, then glances at Eden, his eyes softening. She doesn’t bother to look at either of us, stone cold in her quiet anger. “I…I uh…you’re pretty, but…”
I snort as he fumbles to retract his statement so as to not hurt her feelings, but her small voice lashes out, holding within it more ire than I ever thought her capable.
“Just leave me the hell alone.”
She pushes herself harder, running a few paces ahead. Cash looks over at me, a mix of satisfaction and sadness creeping into the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t want her to feel she has a place with us, yet he feels guilty at shunning her. I know my best friend all too well, and therefore know he will get over it eventually.
I wink, jogging ahead to catch up to her, the predator in me satisfied as her body tenses when my shadow falls over her.
“We don’t have to share if you don’t wanna. You can choose either one. Just know Cash likes his balls played?—”
She halts mid-stride, and I nearly tumble into her, Cash flipping us off as he passes us and jogs away. In his absence, her fury grows, and her thinly arched brows pull low over her doe eyes. When she glares at me, heat rushes to my cock, and I have to fight all of the dirty, hormonal images away. I like her. And I’m discovering that I like tormenting her as well.
“You’re disgusting,” she seethes, her pretty white teeth bared, her plump lips parted in a sneer. A few strands of black hair are plastered to her dewy cheeks and temples, her tiny nose so prim and perfect on her pale face. She really is a little China doll. A fucking gothic one, too, and I’m suddenly a feral golden retriever chasing the neighborhood’s stray black cat.
“What?” I grin, resting my hands on my hips as I fight to regain a normal breathing rate. Her eye twitches, but she quickly glances away, resuming our run at a much slower pace. I’m quick to follow. The slap of our feet along the dirt path is as rhythmic as a metronome. “Fine, Cash isn’t your type. I don’t like sharing anyways, so if you want, I can make you come real quick?—”
In her shock at my words, she falters and tumbles over a fallen branch.
“Oof,” she grunts, splayed out on the dirt. Snickering, I bend to help her up, snaking an arm around her waist and lifting. She weighs about as much as a sack of flour, her ribs digging into my forearm. Struggling in my grasp to free herself of me, I only cinch down harder until her chest is pressed to mine, her dirt-coated palms resting on my pecs. She blinks up at me, a ray of sunlight slicing across her face and making her strange, violet eyes come to life.
More of that damnable warmth seeps into my veins and leeches into my soul. I’ve always felt her presence, but feeling her in my arms is another beast entirely. And once my obsession sets in, there’s no remedying it. She’s about to become my new plaything, and all of the millions of possibilities of what I will do to her rush forth in my brain. Hopefully she can withstand my psychotic ass. If not…I suppose stalking her will suffice, but only for a little bit. There’s only so much I can do against myself, constantly at war with my obsessive impulses ever since I let them run free four years ago.
“Let go,” she grits out, shoving against me to no avail. I like the way she struggles. Though I’ve never had a relationship, I know what I like sexually, and I also know it deviates quite sharply from what anyone would consider normal. I’ve yet to explore the depths of my depravity, but fuck if Eden doesn’t make me want to.
We stare at one another for a beat too long, and her cheeks flame to life, our gazes locked as nature comes alive all around us. A cool breeze plays in her hair, robins chirp, and somewhere a squirrel is chittering at its companion. Peace. I fucking feel at peace right now, and it’s bliss.
“No,” I say softly, my smile tempered for her sake. If I grin as widely as I want to, she’d probably throat punch me.
Her lips twist into a furious sneer, and just before she can knee me in the balls, I catch her thigh with my hand, clamping down so hard onto her flesh and muscle that I wonder if I’ll leave bruises. I want to. The purple hue would match her haunting eyes.
Panic floods her gaze, and her cheeks pale when she realizes I’m far stronger than I look.
“Teddy,” she breathes, fanning my name across my face at her terrified plea. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck . Her sudden strike of anxiety has me getting hard, and I quickly let her go, lest she feel my heat against her stomach. The last thing I need is a sexual harassment claim brought against me. Dick would have a difficult time getting me off the hook for that, and since he teaches here, I have to remain constantly on my toes.
She stumbles backwards, quickly righting herself and smoothing down her deep green gym shirt, her cheeks pinkening again. An awkward silence befalls us, and so I cross my arms and cock my head to the side, prepared to gently interrogate her. I want to figure out where she lives, and Dick has threatened me with everything but death if I hack the school’s administration system again. It’s more fun this way, anyways. Some good old fashioned stalking wouldn’t hurt Eden, right?
But before I can prod her, she takes another step back and hisses, stumbling as she favors her right leg.
“Looks like no more gym for you,” I jest. Her eyes snap to mine, irises coated in a layer of fury.
“It’s your fault I fell, freak.”
Her words are delivered with venom, and it pierces me far more deeply than it should. When she realizes the depths of her anger, her gaze softens, and she shakes her head, turning around to limp down the path in front of me. Stung but not wounded, I follow, a silent sentry, and her a ghost. The asshole in me can’t keep silent for long, though, and riling her up is far too easy.
“So, any fun plans for prom?”
Limp. Limp. Silence.
“Yeah, me too. Cash and I want to go together. Maybe spike the punch.”
Shuffle. Shuffle. Hiss of pain.
“Y’know, I could carry you. Don’t want to damage that ankle any further. Then how would you run away from a murderer?”
That one works. She doesn’t stop limping, but she does hiss, “What? Are you saying you’re going to murder me?”
My biting grin is quick to flourish, but she doesn’t see, too focused on the path now. If only she knew.
“Nah,” I say lightly. “You’re far too fun to pester.”
She must roll her eyes, but it’s difficult to see from my vantage point, our height difference remarkable. It reminds me of that Shakespeare line all the girls quote: ‘Though she be but little, she is fierce.’ None of them actually know the play, though, and none are fierce like Eden. Circumstance has made her hate the world, and I want to know just how deep those wounds go.
“You’ve never bothered me before now, so quit while you’re ahead.”
“A mistake I’m greatly regretting at the present.”
She glances up at me, intrigue swirling on her confused face for a moment before it vanishes, replaced by stony obstinance.
“Regret it somewhere else.”
I smirk.
“And leave you out here all alone, defenseless and wounded? Not very chivalrous of me.”
“Don’t you know chivalry is dead?” she grits out, her limping becoming more and more prominent with each slow, measured step forward. Calling her metaphorical bluff, I swoop down and scoop her into my arms like a bride, her weight as inconsequential as a feather. Like a wild cat in a burlap sack, she struggles against me.
Our eyes catch, and she stills, anger making her lips purse and her nose crinkle cutely. “Stop fighting me, Eden.”
Her brows pucker, and for a fraction of a second, she obeys my command and relaxes in my arms, and those damnable voices rejoice in sick pleasure. Forcing her to do anything would bring me nothing but ecstasy.
She blushes demurely, turning her face away to glare down the path.
“We need to get back before class ends,” she mutters, relinquishing. My smile is tempered this time. “You can put me down, though. I’m too heavy.”
Now, I roll my eyes. “Don’t fish for compliments. It’s not classy.”
“I’m not!” she barks, elbowing me in the chest as she attempts to roll out of my grasp.
“Goddamn, Eden,” I laugh. “It was a fucking joke! Pipe down and enjoy the ride.”
“Just hurry back,” she says quietly, something awfully close to tears mingling in her tone. Silently, I obey.
Because as much as I desire to control Eden Marie Clemm, I know without a doubt that from today forward, it’s really her who will control me. And I’m oddly okay with that.