Chapter Six
Zoey
Julie: He’s here.
Julie’s text interrupted the infuriating conversation I was having with Braylen. The girl had just sent Katy “Killer Boobs” Evans after her BFF Fynn—the boy she’d been in love with for, like, ever—and wasn’t doing a damn thing to undo the mistake she’d just made.
I glanced up from my cell, watching the gears turn behind Bray’s eyes. She was wicked sharp when it came to spinning stories any way she wanted them, but this? How could she make this right? An idea sprang to the back of my mind, as always—sometimes annoyingly so. A way to solve her problem for her. I bit my tongue, instead wrapping her in a fast hug that not only soothed her, but me as well.
“Gordon’s here. I’ve got to go,” I said.
“Zoey,” Braylen chided. “What are you up to?” She held her hands up super quick when I glared at her. “Not that he doesn’t deserve whatever it is…but seriously? What’s cooking in that genius brain of yours?”
“Nothing you have time for.” I squeezed her again. “And the schedule on this is tight. I’ll catch you later.” I spun on my flats and practically flew down the stairs. Half of me wanted to stay with Braylen and help her solve this massive problem she’d just gotten herself into, but I had to get to him now. This plan’s successes rested on the next few minutes of interaction with him. If I failed, then we’d have to move on to plan B, and I so didn’t want to do that. Plan A was just too good to fail.
I hit the landing with adrenaline pumping in my veins, the challenge in my blood downright exhilarating. I’d never done anything like this before, never so risky, and since I’d always been a strong believer in the rules, I couldn’t believe how good it felt to even think about breaking them.
I wonder if this is how Lennon feels all the time?
The rock star of the school had a way of bending the rules to suit him—like the time he’d recorded a ten-minute song for his final essay in Mr. Rowe’s Advanced English class instead of the ten-page essay that had been required. The creativity and artistry was what landed him the A on the assignment, despite the rest of us going the traditional route. We all had our ways of breaking the rules, and I could only hope I’d channel Lennon’s aloofness about them tonight.
The crowded hallway leading to the kitchen seemed to clear as I zeroed in on a mop of brown hair. Gordon’s back was to me as he held up the wall outside Lennon’s video game room, but I’d recognize him anywhere. Hard not to. We’d been in each other’s lives since before I could remember, and I was sure if I could remember as far back to toddlerhood, we had probably battled over who could walk and talk first.
Secretly, I’d always thought he was a cute boy—one who liked to get in my way most of my life—but it wasn’t until our sophomore year that I really paid attention to the sharp angles of his face. Or the way his eyes were the exact shade of brown as a melted chocolate bar, the gooey kind that spilled over a freshly assembled s’more and warmed every inch of your insides.
A shaky breath flew past my lips as I blinked a few times. Sure, the boy was hot, and smart. The only being on the planet who had the chops to push me where everyone else steered clear. But he was also the boy who’d slayed me on stage in front of our entire class and robbed me of my goodbye speech. One I’d dreamed of making for four years. His looks and incredible brain would not get in the way of my revenge.
I nodded to myself, pushing through the hallway to get to him.
Game face on, Zoe.
I conjured up all the nice, warm feelings I’d had toward him before his little speech this morning. Memories like when he’d shared his Taco Truck gift card he’d been awarded in the eighth grade for his solar powered science project that won over my wind powered one. He’d bought me lunch and dropped it off when he’d handed over Branch. Memories of the little wooden trophy, and all the times we’d passed him back and forth, and how he’d connected me to Gordon in a way that I thought was a secret symbol of friendship. Something strong and solid and never-ending—even if it only revolved around wins and losses.
I needed him to believe there was something good between us. And that meant believing it myself.
I focused on the memories as hard as I could. I held on to the emotions like they were a lifeline, and slipped on what I hoped was a friendly yet mysterious smile.
“Hey, there,” I blurted out, tapping him on the shoulder. I’d gone for smooth and confident and had instead hit a combo of angry and excited. Perfect.
Gordon’s wire-tight muscles flinched under my touch and he froze for a few seconds before turning around to face me.
For a split second, I envisioned him tearing into me, slaying me with more well-placed verbal jabs that had decorated his speech.
Shoving the fear down, I arched my neck, my eyes trailing up and up until I’d reached his. He’d always been tall, but damn, tonight the fact that he towered over me did weird flippy things to my stomach. A quick echo of some of his harsher words this morning stopped that insanity right in its tracks.
“Zoey,” he said, and his voice cracked. “Zoey, Zoey.”
“Well,” I said, chuckling as I crossed my arms. “You’ve got my name right.”
He opened and closed his mouth a few times. I’d never seen him struggle so much to put two words together, and the next laugh I snorted out was actually genuine.
This will be too easy.
I sucked in a sharp breath, and arched an eyebrow at him for good measure.
“I know,” he said, his shoulders dropping.
“I’m an asshole.” He finally trailed those brown eyes to mine, and my jaw dropped.
Wait. What?
“I shouldn’t have done that this morning,” he continued. “I could tell you a story, one that might make you forgive me, or at least make you understand why I snapped, but I don’t want to waste your time with excuses. It was a dick move, and I’m so sorry, Zoey.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, my arms falling to my sides.
Is he for real?
He couldn’t be, not wholly. Was he still trying to play me like I was trying to get back at him? More likely his apology was just to alleviate his own guilt, and I wouldn’t accept a selfish sorry.
Game face.
I forced out another laugh, tossing my hair over my shoulder before lightly touching his forearm. The hard muscle underneath the smooth skin sparked beneath my fingertips, but I ignored it and pushed on. “I was a bit…shocked,” I said.
“Me, too.” His eyes jumped from my hand to my face and back again. “You have every right to hate me?” He said the statement like a question, still eyeing my hand.
I smiled at the red dusting his cheeks, and stepped closer. “I don’t hate you, Gordon.”
Not entirely. But you will pay.
“Really?” He shifted until his back was flat against the wall. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to get away from my advance or if he was opening himself for me to get closer.
I shrugged. “I would’ve done the same thing.”
“No, you wouldn’t have.”
The disbelief in his eyes pinned me a little too hard. Could he possibly know me that well? I had thought about it, during my twenty-minute pull-myself-together session backstage, but he was right. I wouldn’t have ever thought to throw him under the bus if he’d earned the scholarship over me. In fact, I honestly thought he’d beaten me out of it. Winning it was almost as shocking to me as his hurtful words, and now this apology. Braylen was right, someone had spiked the graduation-punch with a potion that turned everything upside down.
“Sure I would,” I said, trying hard to sell the lie. “But I have to wonder what you’ll do if I earn the internship spot, too?” I nudged his hard stomach—cursing the way working at his dad’s restaurant had kept him so in shape. Unloading sacks of flour and sugar and all the other things that made that place delicious had given the smart boy a jock’s body. I’d been going for a playful hit, but feeling those muscles made me suck in a sharp breath. Another zing stole through my body. “Make a video on Snapchat about all the ways in which I’m awful?” I finally asked, remembering my original train of thought. It was supposed to be a joke, but my heart flinched. Maybe he would. Especially after my plan played out tonight.
For a split second, I wondered if I was taking things too far. Playing too dirty. I glanced around at the faces of my senior class, drinking and joking. Every once in a while, their eyes cut toward me with the same sneers I’d seen for four years, only less hidden now. Gordon had put a voice to the rumors—Zoey, the pampered princess who didn’t have to work for anything—and it was completely, utterly wrong. It was one thing for people who didn’t know me to think that, but for him? He knew better. He saw me grind every single day to get what I wanted, just as I did him. He’d betrayed me, which was completely different from beating me fairly in something we both wanted.
He deserved what he had coming.
His charm couldn’t erase what he’d done to earn it, either.
“No,” he said, rubbing his palm over his face. “I swear, Zoey.”
A chill raked over my skin when he said my name.
Damn, what is wrong with you?
I was having a hard time playing both roles—the girl who didn’t care that he’d slayed her on stage, and the girl who was crushed by it. It wasn’t easy pretending to be okay with what he’d done when in reality, it hurt worse than what those girls had said about me this morning in the bathroom.
My two opposing roles were messing with my responses to this…enemy.
Yes. Gordon is the enemy. He didn’t care about your feelings this morning and he doesn’t now.
“I honestly didn’t mean to hurt you,” he continued, and this time he was the one pushing off the wall to step closer to me. He placed a tentative hand on my shoulder, his eyes sincere. “I don’t know why you went after the scholarship, but you more than earned it. And, hell, you’ve probably earned the internship, too.” He cracked a grin that made my heart race. “But I’m still going to fight you tooth and nail for it.”
I laughed, the sound cracking some of the hurt off my heart. “Good luck,” I taunted, not sure why he didn’t understand why I went out for the scholarship. Surely he could understand the need to do things on my own? “Now…” I opened my arms in the universal lets-hug-it-out gesture. “Friends?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he set his beer on a thin table that hugged the opposite hallway wall. “Friends,” he said, and I wrapped my arms around his middle. He folded around me, and I sucked in a breath.
We’d never hugged before. Throughout it all—the trading back and forth of Branch, the same volunteer times, the accidental run-ins at the library—we never went beyond a friendly handshake or fist-bump.
I sank into his embrace, each of my coiled muscles unraveling under his touch. I breathed deeply, swimming in his scent—a killer combination of citrus and fresh bread dough, something delicious that penetrated his skin from his dad’s restaurant no doubt. For a second, I forgot the plan, forgot the reason why I’d opened myself up for this intimate contact in the first place, and simply…breathed. Like I hadn’t taken a good breath in years.
When he started to unwrap his arms from around me, I jolted back to reality. I pulled him closer, held him tighter. No time for nerves, I slipped my hand in the back pocket of his thankfully loose-fit jeans as gently as I could. Quick as possible, and with a touch as light as a feather, I plucked his keys into my fingers at the same time I turned my head up just enough to look at him.
The brown in his eyes was swirling with shock and question, but he didn’t blink when I’d made the move. Luckily, my assault of a hug was enough to distract him. Hell, I was distracted enough to almost forget he was the enemy.
Not a boy who smells too good and feels too good against me and who maybe I should have found a way to get this close to before this moment.
Right. Nothing like that.
I smiled up at him, stepping out of the embrace as I hid his keys in the side pocket of my clutch. “Can we…start over for the night?” My voice was too soft, too low. I needed to get a grip.
“How about the entire day?” He smiled.
I motioned toward the kitchen down the hall. “Get me a drink?”
He pursed his full lips, his eyebrows raising as he nodded. “I can do that.” He waved his arm for me to lead the way.
“I’ll meet you there,” I said, fishing out my cell. “I need to talk to Julie really quick.”
“All right,” he said, blinking several times like he wasn’t sure if what had just happened was real or if he’d imagined it. The look would’ve made me laugh if guilt wasn’t already churning in my gut for pulling off step one of plan A.
If it hadn’t worked then I would’ve been off the hook from myself.
But it had gone off without his noticing, and now there was no turning back.
I typed out a fast text to Julie, and she found me in the hallway rooted to the same spot five minutes later.
“Whoa,” she said. “You okay?”
I nodded, forcing the conflict to not show on my face. “Got ’em,” I said and handed her the keys. “Does Jay have everything?” I asked.
Julie downed the rest of whatever was in her solo cup and nodded. “Oh yeah,” she said, tossing the keys into her clutch. “He’s already there waiting. And Kennedy is in the car outside, ready to go. Everyone is more than on board.” She clutched my shoulder. “After what he did, this is letting him off easy.”
I forced a smile. “He apologized.”
“Please.” She scoffed. “He only did that to make himself feel better.”
“You think?”
“Mmm-hmmm. He doesn’t really feel bad. If he did, he wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” She tilted her head. “Are you having second thoughts? Because that is an entirely different situation.”
“No.” It was another lie, but I didn’t have time for an emotional debate right now. If I wanted to carry out the plan—which an hour ago I thought he more than deserved—then now was the time. There was no going back.
Julie crushed me in a hug. “It’s okay if you want to call it off. He deserves this, but you don’t deserve to feel like hell over it.”
The fact that she was prepared to go whichever route I was comfortable with only made the struggle in my mind more difficult. I chewed on my lip for a moment, but shook my head. “Do it,” I said.
She nodded and was out the door before I could take the order back. Julie and Kennedy would do anything for me, I knew that. I’d known that when I’d asked them about the plan over asking Braylen—because while Bray was my best friend, I knew she would’ve talked me out of it. And I was already giving myself enough of a hard time. In the end, it would feel good. I was sure of it.
Hell, Gordon had appeared like he was on cloud nine after he threw me under the bus, sauntering off stage like he didn’t have a care in the world. I just had to make it through the night, and by the end of it, I would get to feel that sweet victory that only comes from the beauty of a perfectly executed plan.
Then why do you feel crappy now?
I shoved aside the voice in my head, along with the twisting sensation in my stomach. I was officially the worst rule-breaker ever.
Gordon deserves this.
Walking toward the kitchen, I repeated the mantra in my head over and over again. When I found him holding a bottle of my favorite hard cider, I said it again. This time with feeling. I knew we’d picked up details about each other over the years, how could we not with how much we saw each other inside and outside of school? But the fact that he knew it was my favorite drink and the way he offered it made my stomach fill with butterflies.
I was losing it.
Because for some reason…some super quiet voice in the back of my head kept whispering that if I wasn’t careful, I’d let my guard down with the one person I shouldn’t.