Chapter 6
SIX
Playing: “Safeword” by Halsey
Axl’s friends are a riot. They’re full of energy, laughing and bantering and passing around full joints.
Ledger lets me drink from his flask, and Tini lets me have one of her mixed drinks she brought in a pitcher for herself.
Apparently, the guys aren’t allowed to drink the concoctions she brings to these events, so they all groaned in frustration when she offered.
All but Axl, who keeps his eyes on me throughout the night, amusement constantly tugging his lip into a sinful smirk.
A roar from the crowd echoes in the air as the round comes to an end in an absolute blood bath.
Watching the sick Subaru Impreza WRX wreck was heartbreaking.
Its royal-blue body flipped, smashing on its side before turning upright with a harsh thump.
It was actually a little bit terrifying, but once it was announced that the driver was fine, I let myself feel the adrenaline rush it gave me.
A little bit of fear bleeds endorphins through my veins, and I find myself even more hyped than I was before.
This place is crazy, and I feel like I belong here.
The next round begins and the competition has dwindled exponentially.
I grit my teeth, my fist tightening as I watch.
I can’t help the way the speed gets under my skin, how I can feel it coast through me all the way to my core.
It doesn’t help that Axl’s scent is like an energy surge right to the bloodstream.
He keeps lingering around me, stealing touches, drinking in my smiles like it’s an addictive gin.
I don’t blame him; I can’t stop looking at him either.
I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol running through my veins or if it’s from the titillating race, but I’m finding it hard to keep my attraction to him under wraps.
There’s something so uninhibited about him, from the way he talks to the way he walks with one hand in his front pocket.
How he brings that stupid soda in his hand to his mouth and swallows, his throat muscles working overtime.
I mean, seriously? Why am I attracted to his throat muscles?
During the last round, things are a bit more chill, the late hours drawing closer, leaving everyone buzzed and tired. We all sit in the lawn chairs, nursing our drinks.
“Since we’re getting Greenwood residents out here, maybe your painter will want to come next time,” Tini says to Ledger, whose cheeks flush bright red even under the dark moonlight.
“Tini,” he whisper-yells.
“What? You’ve been in love with her since high school. And who knows? Maybe she’ll like fast cars and hanging out with us losers like this one does.”
I narrow my gaze at them, a small smile forming at my lips. “Who are you talking about?”
Neither of them say anything, and Ledger is obviously embarrassed if the look on his face is anything to go by. I turn to Axl and he folds without any pressure.
“Whitney Greenwood,” he tells me.
“Whitney?” I repeat, flabbergasted. “She’s not just a resident. She is Greenwood royalty.”
I’ve known Whitney my entire life—I mean, everyone has, she’s the mayor’s daughter—but she’s quiet. No one really knows who she is. Other than the fact that she loves to paint and can rock a pair of denim overalls, she is a complete mystery.
And she reads a lot. Has Ledger even picked up a book for fun?
“Oh, shut up, I know there’s no chance.” Ledger slouches in his lawn chair, crossing his arms with a broody pout. “Don’t fucking tell anyone, though.”
“I don’t have anyone to tell,” I let slip, but then I move on quickly. “She doesn’t really hang out with anyone. I’m sure you could walk up to her table at lunch any given day and say hi?”
“I don’t know,” he says hesitantly. “Like you said, she’s royalty. Even if I could… her dad is the mayor. He is the head dick of Dicksville.”
I cough on a laugh at the same time Axl does. “A way with words this one,” he says.
A chant erupts from the bleachers, and we look up to see both finalists neck and neck on the final lap.
I stand up from my seat, suddenly too pumped to sit, and strain my neck to see.
It’s glorious, how the Charger inches forward ever so slightly to gain the lead, but then the Mazda behind starts to play games, speeding up just to slow back down. What a cocky shit.
“Fucking Mazdas,” Lou mutters from the truck bed.
Luckily, the car playing mind games doesn’t win, and the entire place roars in victory as the Charger takes the crown. Apparently, the driver has won the past few years and everyone was hoping he’d take it again, despite the few pessimists who wanted someone to knock him down a peg.
People seem to clear out quicker than they got here, and I turn to the group of people who welcomed me into their world for a few hours. “Thank you. This was amazing, literally everything I dreamed it would be.”
That got a bunch of smiles out of them, even grumpy Magnus in the corner. Tini steps forward. “Let’s do this again sometime. Hanging out with just these guys all the time can get really boring.”
“Oh, you love us!” Ledger teases, pushing her. She pushes him back, and then they are wrestling on the dry dirt.
Axl comes up beside me, his scent smooth and beautiful. “Can I walk you to your car?”
I look up at him and smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
The trip to my car is full of tension. We’ve known each other for years, but tonight feels different.
It’s like something has been brewing for a long time, simmering below the surface, and it’s finally coming to a boil.
We don’t speak, just let the energy thrum between us as we get to my car, still hidden behind the bush in the forest.
“You parked out here?” Axl asks, his tone disapproving.
“I didn’t want to stand out,” I tell him honestly. “But, you know, my outfit did that enough. I didn’t have to worry about my car.”
He laughs. “That’s true.”
Silence falls back over us. I keep my gaze on the ground, hesitant to look up and see the intensity that always gleams in his eyes when he looks at me.
“So,” he starts, and I finally look up while holding my breath. He swallows, obviously nervous, before continuing. “I was wondering if you’d like to—”
“Hey, dipshit!”
We turn to see who had interrupted us when Axl is suddenly pushed to the ground, a body lying on top of him. The brown hair and menthol scent tells me it’s Will, and I huff out a frustrated groan. I try to kick him off of Axl but my Ugg boot is too soft to make a dent.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Axl pushes him off and gets back to his feet, angling himself so he’s between me and our crazy ex-classmate. Will’s eyes are red with anger and his scent is almost burning, like a poison aggressively infecting our lungs.
“I’ve always been fucking sick and tired of you. Both of you,” Will spits. “Always acting so high and mighty. Always believing you’re better than everyone.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Your hang-ups are yours alone, Will. Don’t project that shit onto us. You don’t know anything about our lives, just as we don’t know everything about yours.”
His head whips to mine, a dark smile curling. “Don’t get me started on you, Princess. Perfect Stacey Hawthorne. Greenwood’s cheerleading prodigy. Daughter of the CEO who could live anywhere but chooses fucking Greenwood to grace his presence.”
Spit flies out when he speaks, and I step back to avoid being hit. “Seek therapy, Will. Seriously.”
“Maybe I should show Greenwood they aren’t as untouchable as they think they are.”
A loud, vibrating sound comes from Axl’s lips as he stands taller between us, blocking me from view. “You don’t look at her, Will. You don’t look and you don’t fucking touch, I swear—”
“Swear what?” Will sneers. “Or you’ll do something? You’ve been in Greenwood too long, dude. You’ve been sitting with the prim and proper despite not being one yourself, so I’d like to see you try.”
I knew Will held resentment for Greenwood, but I didn’t know he was this warped from it. He’s feeling bad for himself, angry that he is no longer part of the Greenwood elite and is stuck with people he deems lower than himself. He’s showing that insecurity through anger.
But I don’t care how he’s feeling, because this behavior is unacceptable, and Axl must agree because he pushes Will away when he steps closer, violence creeping in. We both feel it coming, the head of this horrible interaction hitting a climax, and we both brace ourselves for the impact of it.
“Get back,” Axl tries to bark at me before Will takes a swing at him.
Even though the command doesn’t hold me hostage, I still take a step back, gasping when Will’s fist connects with Axl’s cheek.
It looks like it hurts like a bitch, but Axl recovers in no time, and by the glare in his eye, he doesn’t look like he’s going to hold back.
When Will swings again, Axl dodges it and clocks his own fist into his stomach.
Will lets out a cry, almost like a wounded wolf, before he tries to elbow him in the face again, but Axl is quicker.
He dodges, lands every punch, all while Will is barking like a chihuahua, spewing bullshit between every hit.
Axl’s knee collides with his stomach, trying to douse the fight in him, but it only sends more venom into his insults.
But I’m not focused on Will. I can’t take my eyes off the way Axl’s body moves, how his primal instincts have taken over and are now on the edge of control. I feel something fluttering low, my stomach a glutton for punishment as I realize a horrible truth.
I’m turned on by this, I realize in horror. I am turned on by Axl beating someone up for me.
Will sways on his feet, his eye swelling in a bruise. Axl steps back, barely hurt, just a soreness in his knuckles from defending himself. He starts to turn toward me, ready to be done with this charade, but Will steps forward, his chin twitching.