Charade (10 page)

             
“There’s a difference because I’m not in denial about it.” The way her eyes dim, sad and acknowledging my words, does something to me. I feel them on me…in me. It’s fucking ridiculous and I’m the last one who should be consoling this girl, but I grab her hand and pull her to me. “Come here.”

             
She comes. Her arms wrap around my neck and mine around her waist. She feels small—smaller than usual, but soft and feminine tucked against me. “Life’s shitty sometimes.”

             
I expect her to cry. Wait for it. Mom’s always been a crier. Real emotional about stuff, but there’s no wetness seeping through my shirt from where her head rests on my shoulder.

             
No sniffling or shakes. Just…nothing.

             
Damn, this girl is shutdown tight. Which I should be thankful for, that way I don’t have to deal with it. I find myself running my hand up and down her back though. Her grip on my neck tightens, the only sign I have she’s comprehending anything.

             
“Your mom…what’s wrong with her?”

             
Her question is a vise-grip, squeezing the life out of me. “Cancer. What else?”

             
“I’m sorry,” she says, looking up at me.

             
“Me, too.”

             
She dips her head and I know what she’s going to do before she does it. Her lips brush against my neck and I squeeze her waist. Christ, this is fucking dumb. All
kinds of dumb, but I don’t pull
away when her lips skate over my throat again.

             
I don’t let myself think, but tilt her head up and take her lips. I’m not slow about it either. I’m hungry, needy for her. My tongue pushes into her mouth. A little groan escapes from the back of her throat and damn it turns me on.

             
Her nails dig into my skin and it only spurs me on more. I kiss her deeper, studying every part of her mouth. With my lips on hers, nothing else matters, but what we’re doing. I lift her up and her legs wrap around my waist. Stumbling, I walk to the bed, our mouths never parting.

             
Cheyenne makes a little “umpf” when we fall onto the bed, but she’s still kissing and I’m still kissing her and all I can think is that I want more. I’m not stupid. I know what this is. She wants to forget about her mom and I like the way she feels and I’ve wanted to know how she tastes. Knowing should make me stop, but I’ve never really been that kind of guy, so I keep going.

             
My mouth slides down her neck. My tongue licking that little hollow spot
I didn’t realize until this second, I wanted to taste.
Cheyenne’s hands are in my hair as I keep kissing my way down.

             
I push the top of her t-shirt down, taking my tongue across the swells of her breasts. I move far enough away that I can push her shirt up this time. Her bra is satin, but still not as smooth as her skin. I cup one breast, teasing the other through the fabric.

             
I’m on fire. Inside and out. My hand moves to the top of her pants. Before I go any f
a
rther, I look up at her. The heartbreak on her face—the pain in her eyes, douses my wildfire.

             
Fuck.
What the hell am I doing? I sit up and pull away from her. I ache from wanting her so fucking bad, but I say, “We need to chill out.”

             
If anything, my words make the darkness in her eyes worse.

             
Cheyenne pushes off the bed, fixing her shirt as she goes. “I gotta go.”

             
“You don’t have to.” I shrug, wondering where in the hell those words came from.

             
“Yeah, I do.” She grabs her purse. I get up and start grabbing the money and cards she threw on the ground.

             
“I…” she shakes her head.

             
“It’s cool,” I tell her. “We all lose it sometimes.”

             
“Not me. Not anymore.” Cheyenne takes the card and walks out.

~CHAPTER FOURTEEN~

Cheyenne

             
I stay in bed most of the next day. Andy asks me what’s wrong a million times, but I tell her nothing. I don’t even know how to explain it if I wanted to. Which I don’t. Not to her. Not to Colt, which is why I regret what I said to him, or even to myself. I was with Gregory for two years and he never saw that side of me. Never saw me lose it. Never knew how I felt about anything. I got good at the game, but somehow let my guard down with Colt. I hate it.

             
I want to forget. That’s all. Things are never what they seem to be anyway. The past ten years of my life have been a farce that I let control me too much. Just like my relationship with Gregory had been a farce. I’m not making the same mistakes again. My eyes sting because I can’t sleep. I’ve never really loved the dark, but now I hate it more. Was it dark for her? Did she die right away? Did—
stop!
I face the mirror and finish putting on my eyeliner

             
“How are you? Anything new with boyfriend number two?” Andy asks. At least it’s better than her questions all Saturday and Sunday.

             
I make myself smile because it’s one of the things I can control. There are so few of them out there I plan to cling to the ones I can. “No, Colt and I broke up.”

             
“That’s too bad. He’s hot. Way hotter than the other guy.”

             
My skin suddenly tingles remembering his hands on me—his mouth. My toes curl in my sandals, but I straighten them out. He snoozed, and now he’ll lose.

             
“Eh, he’s okay.”

             
Andy laughs. “And you’re straight up lying. You know that man is better than okay.”

             
“You should date him, if you like him so much.”

             
“I’m spoken for, remember?”

             
Yeah, I do. I don’t know why I said that. I turn to face her. “What’s going on this weekend? Do you know?”

             
Andy shrugs. “I know about an off-campus party. We’re planning on hitting it up. You’re welcome to come if you want.” She pulls off her shirt and pulls on another tee.

             
“Yeah, that sounds good. I need a good time.” Something churns in my stomach, but I ignore it the same way I tell Aunt Lily I’m fine every time she calls.

             
“Nice.” Andy picks up her bag and opens the door. She walks partway out, but then turns to face me. “You sure you’re okay? You’re all smiley, but…you’ve been tossing and turning the last two nights. When you do sleep…you cry.”

             
I drop the eyeliner I forgot was in my hand. My insides tremble. My heart cracks, but I push myself into another smile. “It’s fine. I got in a fight with my aunt, but everything’s better now.”

             
So now I know there are two places I can’t hide: when I’m sleeping or when I’m with Colt.

***

             
The next two days pass in a fog. I laugh where I should and talk where I should. I even smile too, but none of it feels real. Lily calls so much I start to ignore her.

             
“Hello, Chey,” Gregory says as we walk out of class.

             
“Hi.”

             
He squints. “Wow. I didn’t think you’d be so normal when I spoke to you.”

             
I shrug. “I’m over it.” Looking at him, I wonder why I let him get under my skin so much. Why us breaking up or him screwing Red had such a huge effect on me. I wasn’t dead in the woods. All I did was lose a boyfriend.

             
Smiling at him, I try to keep walking. “Wait,” he steps in front of me.

             
“I have to go. I don’t want to be late for class.”

             
But I don’t go to class. I go back to my room to try and sleep before Andy gets back.

***

             
“Hey.” Colt steps up next to me, while I’m walking to the coffee house on Thursday.

             
My heart drops off for a couple beats and then picks up again. “Hey.” I keep walking and so does he.

             
“You ignore all your ex-boyfriends like this?”

             
He called a few times yesterday. I’m surprised he’s trying at all. I’m not really sure why he would, but him being here is like he’s picking at the edge of a sticker. Using his nail to peel back a layer of me that I can’t handle removing.

             
“So that’s how it is? I play your game and then you ignore me?”

             
I want to ask him why he cares. What he’s going to get out of this. But then, I guess a part of me knows. We have death between us. Mine from the past and his lingering in the future. “I’m not ignoring you. I’m just in a hurry.”

             
He stops walking. “Whatever you have to tell yourself, Princess.”

             
I am going to kill him!
I cross my arms and plant my feet. “Stop. Calling. Me. Princess.”

             
Colt grins. It’s strange because he’s this tattooed, messy-haired guy who wears faded jeans and t-shits. One look at him and you can tell he doesn’t take shit—that life hasn’t been easy and he’s scarred because of it. But when he smiles? Really smiles, it’s perfect. Like toothpaste commercial, boy-next-door beauty that makes it really hard to be pissed at him.

             
And I also know I just did exactly what he wanted me to do. I reacted. I don’t want to react anymore, but I can’t seem to help it. “Why are you doing this?”

             
“I’m just talkin’. What’s wrong with that?”

             
“You know what I mean.”

             
He shrugs and the confusion in his eyes makes me wonder if maybe he doesn’t know either.

             
“Colt! Get the fuck over here, man. You got ten seconds or I’m leaving!” Adrian sits in car on the street.

             
“Bastard,” Colt mumbles. “Go get your coffee. You’re even
pissier
when you don’t have caffeine.”

I can’t even get mad because he’s smiling as he says it.

             
For the first time in maybe ever, when we walk away, we’re not mad. One isn’t stalking away from the other. We walk away separate, but together.

***

             
I have no idea whose house we’re at. All I know is the music is loud, the place is packed and there’s plenty of alcohol, much of which I have partaken in.
T
he tingle of my buzz zip
s
around inside me
,
taking out all of the thoughts I don’t want to have.

             
I lost Andy a while ago, but this time I don’t care. I’m dancing, drinking and not caring who or what’s around me.

             
I feel someone slide up behind me, a hand on my waist. I turn around and Gregory is standing there.

             
“I don’t remember
saying you can touch me,” I hiss
.

             
“Aw, come on, Chey. We’re just dancing.”

             
“Where’s Red?” He doesn’t move his hand so I shimmy out of his reach.
             

             
Gregory’s forehead wrinkles, but then he catches on. “Maxine? I’m not with her. We were just messing around. You’ve always been the one I want.” He steps closer to me again, his mouth right up against my ear. “We’re good together, honey. You know that. I screwed up, but I won’t do it again.”

             
My world is spinning, partly from alcohol, but also because of Gregory’s words. I should want this. Want him. I can be normal with him and forget about Mom’s body in the woods, all the tears I’ve cried and even about Colt. I look at him, wondering if he could make it all go away. If I can go back to pretending. Gregory smiles and my stomach aches. No, he couldn’t. He hurt me, and I can’t trust him. Maybe it’s a male thing. Maybe none of them can be trusted.

             
“I have to go.” I jerk away from him and weave my way through the mass of people. The music suddenly feels too loud, almost echo-y. The spins suck me in a vortex worse than I’ve ever felt.

             
“Chey! Wait.”

             
I keep walking and so does Gregory. When he grabs my hand I try to pull away, but can’t, so I keep going, dragging him with me. I need air.