Eighteen: 18
Sunday grabs my backpack and motions for me to walk with him.
I do. He’s got my pack, right?
“I’m nice to everyone I like.”
“Oh.” I chuckle a little under my breath.
“You’re pretty,” he says, shooting me a sideways look. “And smart. AP classes. I got a lot of details about you when we were sitting in the counseling office.”
“Yeah, that kinda sucks. No privacy.”
“Well,” he says, veering off into the main building where my English class is next period. “You handled it well. Aside from the three fucks.”
I laugh out loud at that one. “Bowman should’ve suspended me. I was expecting it, actually.”
“He didn’t because he likes you too.”
“Right.”
“Nah, really. I watched him when you were talking about your geometry class. He was fascinated. Like you’re his dream student and he can shove you into being a productive adult if he can just get you through second semester senior year.”
“He’s nosy. He read my file. He knows about my sister. My situation.”
“What is your situation?” We stop outside my classroom and Sunday leans on a locker. And for some reason I don’t get the feeling that he’s being nosy.
“My sister died right after she gave birth to my niece. I live with my brother-in-law and the baby right now.”
“He’s the one who hit you.” It’s not a question.
“I got him back, so don’t worry about me. Sometimes you just need to have a who’s-in-charge fight, ya know?”
He stares at me. His smile is gone. “No, Shannon. I don’t know. I’ve had my share of fist fights, but I’ve never had them with the people I live with.”
“You’re lucky, I guess.”
“I guess I am.”
I don’t know what to say after that, so I just look down at my Chucks.
“I’ll take you to school if you want. I mean, after-school school.”
I should say yes. Everything inside of me wants to say yes. But it’s not fair to him. “Nah, my brother-in-law is gonna take me. Make up for the other night. And buy me dinner,” I add, to sweeten the story.
Sunday hands my pack over and I take it. “OK,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch then.”
“Yeah, lunch is my new favorite.”
He shoots me one of those amazing smiles, and with something that looks a little bit like reluctance, walks off.
The rest of my day goes by fast. You know how it goes—you don’t have a ride to night school and you’re wishing the day could be longer so you can figure it out. But no. Two-thirty comes way too fast and after I go to my locker and get what I need for tonight, I have to face the fact that it’s the bus or it’s walking.
And I can’t stand at the bus stop in front of school, because Sunday hangs out at the arcade across the street. So I walk home and sit on the couch until four when I have to decide.
What if I don’t go? Will Mateo come here looking for me?
I don’t want that. I was lucky Jason didn’t come home and find us out on the patio last night. I really don’t need any more drama.
So I walk back up to Lincoln and catch the bus a few blocks down from school.
I hate my life the whole twenty-minute ride down to Gilbert. I should not have to take the bus to night school. I should not even have to go to night school. Everything is unfair.
I tuck my pity party away when I get to school, but when I pull on the door to go inside, it’s locked.
I look around for Mateo’s car or bike, but the lot is empty.
I will cut a bitch if I just hauled myself over here for no reason. I swear to God, I will—
The loud roar of a bike cuts me off and even though I don’t want to feel the wetness between my legs, there it is.
I throb for him.
He pulls up next to me and pulls a helmet out of one of his side packs. “Get on,” he says, revving the engine.
“Where are we going?”
He ignores me. Stares straight ahead.
“Fucking fine,” I sigh. I push the helmet onto my head, swing my legs over the seat, and scoot up next to his back.
Throb for him.
“Scoot closer,” he says over his shoulder.
I can feel the muscles in his back through his t-shirt because he has no jacket on. It was hot today and typically I’d be bitching about eighty-degree weather in January. But those muscles under his shirt change my mind. I press my head into his back and smell him as we take off.
Chapter Fourteen
We end up at his house, which is indeed less than two hundred yards from my own apartment. I take off the helmet and hand it over to his waiting hands, watching as he tucks it back into the packs. “Why didn’t you just text me and tell me to come here? I took the bus over to Gilbert.”
He looks at me with something that might be curiosity. “To see how you’d manage to get to school without your friend’s ride.”
“Asshole. You could’ve saved me an hour of time.”
“Bygones, Shannon.”
I screw up my face at him. “What?”
“Just let it go. You’re here now.”
Here is a small bungalow, typical of old-town Anaheim. One story, possibly an attic, with those thick columns on either side of the front porch. We’re not in front, which is good. I don’t need any nosy neighbors seeing me here with him. We’re in the back where he’s got a huge five-car garage.
I’m not kidding, five cars. That garage has to be twice the size of the house. “What’s with the massive garage?” I ask.
“Cars,” he says.
OK, asshole. Remind me again why I’m with him and not Sunday?
I follow him up the back steps and he holds the door open for me, waving me forward.
He grabs my ass and squeezes hard as I walk past.
I throb. And gasp. But mostly throb.
That’s why, Shannon. He’s gonna fuck me. But then… “Hey, you said I could watch you jerk off in the classroom.”
That makes him smile. I like the smile. He likes me dirty, I realize. Dirty makes him smile. “We can do that tomorrow when you have to go for science. But until you finish all those tests you spoke so highly of at our first meeting, we meet here at three o’clock on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. And if you’re a bad girl, Saturdays and Sundays too.”
“I can’t on Saturdays. I told my brother-in-law I’d babysit for him while he works during the day.”
“Ah,” he says, turning to the fridge to grab two beers. “Well, we better make the most of the days we have then, right?” He hands me a beer and I take it. “But don’t think we won’t be fucking in the classroom too.”
“Is that the only thing you want from me?” It comes out with a sneer.
“Nope,” he says, popping the top of his beer off using the counter. He takes mine, does the same, and hands it back. “But it’s definitely up there at number one.”
“Why? You like the idea of getting caught?”
“No, Shannon, I like the possibility of getting caught. Fucking you here will be wild and fun. But fucking you there will be erotic. Taboo. Do you like taboo sex?”