Entanglement (YA Dystopian Romance) (8 page)

***

Amber
picked up after the first ring.

“Hey,”
she said, as if Aaron calling her was totally normal.

“Amber,
could you promise me something?”

She
was silent while Aaron continued to fiddle with his car door in his driveway,
trying to get it to latch.

“Probably
not,” she said finally.

“Promise
me you won’t go out with Clive tonight.”

“Let
me guess, you’d rather I go out with
you?
” she said.

“Sure,
whatever. I’ll take to a movie or something.”

“I
didn’t say I
would
go out with you.”

“Look—”
Aaron held the phone against his ear with his shoulder, “you might end up in a
situation tonight where you could get hurt.”

“Then
protect me,” she said.

“Amber,
just promise me.”

“No.”
And she hung up.

***

Calling
her was a mistake, Aaron decided that night, as he scanned the swaying mass of halves
grinding against each other inside the Pelican nightclub, their sweat
glittering under green lasers and disco balls, because even if Amber hadn’t
been planning on it, now she would probably come here just to spite him.

But
what worried him even more was the way he’d risen to Clive’s taunts after
school—how
protective
he’d felt toward her—when the odds seemed
increasingly slim that they were halves. In fact, he wasn’t sure he even wanted
Amber as his half; she’d be a nightmare.

Yet
here he was at the Pelican because she meant more to him than he cared to
admit, and if Clive date raped her in a filthy nightclub eight days before her
birthday, if he scarred
her like that, the loss she and her half would
suffer for the rest of their lives was unthinkable. Aaron couldn’t let that
happen.

He
spotted Dominic dancing with Tina Marcello against the far glass walls. Clive
would be near them. “Over there,” said Aaron.

Next
to him, Buff pulled on his red and white rugby hoodie.

“Seriously?”
said Aaron.

“I
didn’t come here to dance, Buddy. Breezie needs to know what hit him.”

“Whatever.
Just hold him off while I take care of Selavio.” Aaron straightened his leather
jacket and plunged into the crowd. He focused on the rainbows cascading down
Dominic’s back to stay oriented as he squeezed around pairs of bodies. In the
sweaty fog, someone knocked him in the jaw—and he froze.

He
had walked right into Clive, and the guy still hadn’t noticed him. It was too
perfect.

Aaron
reached for his shoulder, his heart thumping, and yelled, “Surprise!”

But
right then a gap opened and he saw exactly what he dreaded most. She was
rubbing up against Clive’s torso in a club dress with tiger stripes, lips
shining with lip gloss, her arms draped seductively around his neck like they
were already halves—Amber Lilian.

Clive
whipped around to face him.

***

Aaron
had three inches on Clive. It should have been an easy fight. A few punches. He
could have broken Clive’s nose, knocked him out cold.

Instead
he just stood there, stunned by the sight of Amber, as Clive attacked.

Aaron
had been struck off guard before, knocked to the ground even. He had taken
blows from other seventeen-year-olds, kicks, punches in his jaw. They didn’t
faze him.

This
was different.

The
strobe light split Clive’s movement into frames. His fist burned in the white
flash, a blur, before it smashed into Aaron’s jaw.

Pain
rattled his teeth. Aaron toppled backward, dizzy, and hit the floor. Clive
knelt over him and coiled his arm back again, ready to strike with his full
weight. Aaron rolled, crawled through someone’s legs and jumped up. His ears
still rang from the blow.

People
scattered, shouted. Aaron tackled Clive in the stomach, pinned his neck. Clive
squirmed out of his grip, a sour musk rising from his armpits.

Somebody’s
hands closed on Aaron’s shoulders, dragged him backward.

“She’s
not your half!” Aaron yelled, but it was pointless. More bodies crowded around
him, grabbed and shoved him, their ugly faces hardly human. He flung off their
hands, only to suffocate in their hungry perfume. Everything was in black and
white. An entire club filled with shadows, halves of people herding him
backward.

Aaron
never took his eyes off Amber. She was the only thing real. Her orange and
yellow tiger stripes. She returned his stare, speechless, just as shocked as he
was.

Clive
stood behind her, smirking, and with his long, pale fingers, he caressed
Amber’s neck, her collarbone, then reached lower—

Aaron
averted his eyes, disgusted, as every last inch of his skin caught fire and
burned with jealousy.

***

Aaron
stumbled onto the balcony and gulped fresh air, still seething—and pissed at
himself for overreacting. No shit Amber got touchy feely with Clive on the
dance floor, she was his damn
girlfriend
; Aaron just hadn’t really
believed it until tonight. A moment later, she came out behind him.

“So
that’s why you called me?” she said. “You’re an asshole.”

Aaron
rolled his jaw, and the pain from Clive’s blow gnawed inside his skull. His
teeth still didn’t align. “Go back inside and finish what you started,” he
said. “Clive brought you here for a reason.”

“No
duh,” she said, brushing her damp hair from her eyes. “They don’t check IDs.”

“You
think
that’s
why he brought you here? Come on, Amber, you’re smarter
than that.”

“Apparently
not the whiz you are,” she said.

“Fine,
I’ll spell it out for,” he said. “It’s called date rape. You’re nothing but a
trophy to him, he’s not going to wait until you’re eighteen.”

Amber
stepped in front of him, and her eyes were stunningly bright. “He’s not like
that, Aaron. You’re just
jealous
.”

“
Oh,
please
,” he said, “I’m stopping you from throwing your life away . . . because
you don’t seem to give a damn. Jealousy’s got nothing to do with this.”

“And
what exactly is
this?
” she said, motioning between them.

Aaron
leaned against the railing, as the techno beat numbed his thoughts. “What makes
you think he’s your half?” he said.

“Does
it matter? It’s not like I get a choice.”

“Yes
you do,” he said. “You still have a choice for one more week, and this is when
people screw it up. It might not be him next Saturday, so don’t do something
you’ll regret.”

“Who
are you, my
parents?
” she said. “I have enough people fussing over my
safety without you preaching to me.”

“Fine,
but believe me you’re with the wrong guy,” he said.

“Why
don’t you just say it already and stop wasting my time, Aaron—
you
think
I’m
your
half.”

“Well,
since you brought it up,” he said, “maybe you shouldn’t be dating Clive eight
days before our birthday.”

Amber
stepped closer to him, and the ocean breeze lifted her hair across her
forehead. “I’ll date whomever I please.”

Aaron
could smell her lip-gloss—cherry flavored—and feel the heat emanating from her
skin. “At least until Clive kills them, right?” he said.

“He
only does that when I get bored and tell him to,” she said, her eyes
challenging him.

“Really?”
said Aaron. “Then why has he known about every time you’ve seen me? Bored
already?”

“Slightly.”

“Then
let’s make things interesting. Dance with me.”

“No,”
she said, staring him straight in the eye, “didn’t you just lecture me about
not doing things I would regret?”

Before
he could answer, yells from inside the club interrupted their conversation.
Aaron and Amber spun as Buff staggered out onto the balcony, two bouncers right
behind him, their torsos bulging inside black T-shirts.

Buff
planted his palms on their chests, one on each, and halted them. “No more
bullshit—I swear!”

They
rolled up their sleeves and hustled him backward, shoved him against the
railing. Buff’s eyes froze on the dark, sloshing ocean behind him. They were
going to pitch him over.

“I
said no more bullshit!”

Aaron
and Amber jumped to the rescue.

“There
you are bud—”Aaron threw his arm around Buff’s shoulder and dragged him away
from the bouncers. “Been looking all over for you! See that sailboat over
there . . .
marvelous
, isn’t she?”

Amber
intercepted the bouncers. “Oh my God, thank you guys
so
much for your
help!” She smiled and batted her eyelashes at them. “He’s my half
.
”

Aaron
stole a look at her and had to turn away to suppress a snicker.

The
bouncers grunted and retreated into the thumping, flashing darkness.

 “Buddy,
I got him!” said Buff, smacking his palm. “Broke Breezie’s nose, just like
that.” He grinned, and blood dribbled down his chin from a split lip. His eyes
were bruised too.

Amber
came up next to them and rubbed her arms. “It’s cold,” she said to Aaron,
shivering. “I changed my mind. Let’s go dance now.”

“Forget
it,” said Aaron. “It was a bad idea.”

“Fine,”
she said, and her gaze darted to Buff. “I’ll dance with your best friend then—”

But
before Buff had a chance to accept, Aaron snatched her hand away from him.
“Alright,
one
song,” he said. “You still think you’re going to regret
this?”

“Actually,”
she said, catching his eyes with a sizzling glance as she pulled him into the
club’s sweaty heat, “I’m counting on it.”

***

A
scan around the club revealed that Clive and Dominic were absent, and it made
Aaron nervous; they were up to something.

The
song was in transition as he and Amber headed for the corner, just the
synthesizer. The lasers made slow sweeps across the ceiling.

When
they reached a good spot, the strobe lights flashed and the bass kicked in,
obscuring Aaron’s thoughts. Amber faced him, blushing, and glanced down. He
watched the lights flashing across her face, and his heart fluttered,
weightless. He pressed his eyelids shut. His birthday was too soon; dancing
with Amber was a mistake. He needed to get out of here.

But
then she draped her arms around his neck, and already, he felt himself giving
in. He held her waist, unable to pull away. Blood surfaced under his skin. The
thrill was almost palpable.

The
music pressed them together, the club dissolved. They were alone. Together.

He
felt her hair on his cheek, silky. She smelled like sweat and flowers. Holding
her was easier than it should have been. Excruciating, yes, but easier.
Intoxicating, in fact.

Very
intoxicating.

Aaron
felt her mouth near his ear. “None of this is going to matter when we’re
eighteen. Why are you so tense?”

But
she was tense too. Her body felt taut, as if she was holding her breath.

She
moved closer, and he felt her cheek against his neck. He could feel her heart
racing—or was it his? His nerves felt tingly wherever their skin touched.

“What
are you thinking about?” she whispered.

“Take
a guess.”

“I
can’t read you,” she said. “Tell me.”

“Oh,
you know . . . ,” he said, “just my Anthro essay.”

“Butthead.”

It
felt like only a moment passed, and then the song was over. It hardly seemed
fair. But they still didn’t let go of each other.

“I
think the song’s over,” he said.

“Then
why are we still dancing?” she said.

Just
then, Buff burst out of the crowd and grabbed Aaron’s arm.

“Buddy,
your
car
—” he gasped, out of breath, “Breezie and Selavio are pushing it
into the water!”

7 Days,
11 hours, 29 minutes

Outside, the cold, salty
breeze stung his eyes, blurred his vision. Dominic and Clive were leaned over
on either side of his Mazda, their arms flexed on the inside of the frame. They
had turned the car around, and now they were picking up speed, jogging toward
the end of the pier where white foam frothed up onto the planks.

Aaron
unclasped his fingers from Amber’s hand and started after them—and slipped,
slamming his face into wet, slimy wood. He jumped back to his feet.

“Turn
it right,” Dominic yelled, nearly running now. “Turn the wheel right!”

The
car veered left. “I said
right!
”

They
jumped away from the car, just as Aaron shot past them. He sprinted for the
driver’s side, where the door swung open. Salt clogged his nostrils, his thighs
burned.