In Control (The City Series) (24 page)

“Kingsley, I just—”

“Don’t even say my name!” I ordered. I had shouted loudly and the room became silent. The conversations stopped and everyone’s attention focused on us. I looked straight ahead, finding Wren staring straight back. His white knuckles clutched a bottle of cheap beer and I knew he was moments away from bashing it over Porter’s skull.

I walked around Porter, straight past Wren, grabbing his hand on my way out the back door. I had to get out of that house; away from Porter and the overpowering trance he put on me.

“What the fuck, Kingsley?” Wren said, sliding the glass door closed.

The humid air left an instant trail of sweat on my lower back, and I was happy I wore little to nothing.

“Why is he here?”

“How would I know?” I said, throwing my hands in the air.

Wren rolled his eyes, gulped the rest of his beer, and chucked the empty bottle into the yard, where I heard it crash onto a nearby rock, breaking into pieces. “Why were you talking to him?”

“Wren, I didn’t walk up to him and
make
him talk to me. He came up to me!”

“I thought you were behind me. When I turned around, you were standing there with Porter.” He said Porter’s name the same way I did. Like it was deadly.

“I... I...” I didn’t know why I didn’t follow Wren into the kitchen.
I didn’t know anything except that I didn’t think I could last another moment in a room with Porter Henning.

“That’s what I thought.”

Wren walked to the edge of the porch and looked down at the beach. It was filled with families laughing and dogs running through the water to catch their Frisbees in the air.

“Wren,” I called, touching his elbow, “it was nothing.”

His eyes followed the length of my body, like he’d just realized I was half-naked. My short jean shorts were unbuttoned, exposing my bikini bottoms. The sheer top I wore over my bikini top was just enough to cover my exposed skin.
He gave a small smile and held out his hand.

“It was nothing,” I reminded him. “Now, if we ended up humping on the floor of the foyer...”

“You just love taking that extra step, don’t you?”

I knew Wren believed what I told him because I knew he trusted me. Porter was nothing to me now. What I didn’t tell Wren was that the
nothing
somehow still meant
something
.

By the time we walked back inside, the party resumed to normalcy. Jay and Samson greeted us in the kitchen, each carrying handfuls of shots.

“My favorite couple!” Jay shouted over the music. He handed me a shot glass, and Samson shared one with Wren.

“Hey, Kingsley,” Samson greeted.

I nodded in his direction. I discreetly looked into the foyer, searching for Porter, but didn’t see him there. It’s not that I
wanted
to see him again tonight, but it’s like there was a magnet inside of me that pulled to him no matter how much I fought it.

“Where’s Nat?” I asked Samson. I took my shot in one gulp, slamming it down on the kitchen island.

“Oh, she actually didn’t end up coming,” Samson replied. “Her mom wanted her home for some new dance class she was introducing at the studio.”

It was disappointing that Natalia didn’t show. I needed to talk to someone about how Porter being around was making things in my life seem off balance. He was somehow playing tricks on my mind that I couldn’t control, and I knew her advice would help the situation. But she wasn’t here to help.

Have you ever been so in love with someone that when they intentionally hurt you, you shelved that hurt so high up in hopes that it would collect dust and be forgotten? It took me a few months to identify
that
sort of love wasn’t the kind I needed in my life, and I swore that I’d never allow my mind to flood with thoughts of
that
kind of love ever again.

But now I could feel my brain drowning, and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it.

“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!”

The crowd circled around Porter, cheering as he chugged an excessive amount of beer. I looked at the faces surrounding me. Their expressions filled with pure satisfaction as they watched their friend drink his weight in alcohol. Porter’s shirt was drenched, his forehead covered in sweat. I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down and up and down until finally, the beer bong was empty.

The moment he swallowed the last drop, he threw his arms in the air, celebrating the accomplishment. He was acting like he’d just won a gold medal. The circle closed in tighter around Porter, pushing me out of the way. I stood in the background, trying to figure out why I was even there.

“Hi.” A girl I recognized from my math class stood next to me, greeting me as if she questioned why she did it in the first place. Her bright red hair shone under the florescent lighting, her pale skin painted with colors I’d never think to wear. Dark purple eye shadow covered her lids and her cheeks matched her hair; her lips were the only thing that didn’t stand out.

“Hello,” I replied. I gave a small smile and then turned my attention back to my boyfriend.

He was no longer pumping his fist in there air. He was talking to a girl. I looked closer, trying to see through the heavy crowd.

He was talking to Charlotte.

“That’s your boyfriend, right?” the girl asked.

The crowd began dispersing, and we both watched as Porter and Charlotte clinked their shot glasses together. He beamed at her and she happily returned his expression. Their exchange was just a little too friendly. A little too affectionate.

“Yes,” I answered, looking down at the ground. I couldn’t watch as the only boy I loved forgot all about me.

“And you’re okay with him talking to
her
?”

Charlotte swallowed her drink and then flew into Porter’s arms, hugging him tightly. It was the touching that gave me the push I needed to move my feet. Two small steps, but then I backed up. I was scared to interfere. Scared to make myself the center of attention when I’d always hid in the shadows.

What’s wrong with Charlotte?” I asked the girl.

Her eyes widened and she looked at me like I was stupid for not knowing the answer like everyone else at the party apparently did. “She just broke up with Alex. There’s a rumor going around that she wants to get back together with Porter.”

The news bit at my insides. I had to force myself not to run away and cry, knowing I was on the verge of losing the only boy that’s ever loved me.
If he ever loved me at all.

“But Porter broke up with her last year,” I established. He broke up with her because he had a crush on me. That’s what he told me months ago when we sat across from one another at Shake Shack. I remember every word he said because when he spoke them, my heart raced and I had to choke down my chocolate shake to keep my lips from moving and admitting how much I loved him.

He can’t leave me for her. He can’t leave me for her. He can’t leave me...

I closed in on them, hoping the boldness wouldn’t disappear the moment Charlotte looked at me.

It did.

“Oh, Kingsley!” Charlotte said, grasping both of my shoulders. “Your shirt, it’s so...nice.”

She looked me up and down, obviously scrutinizing every part of me. If I could, I would have slapped her. I’d never been violent with anyone. I’d never hit back in my life, but at that moment, I wanted to hurt Charlotte. She was trying to take away the one person that meant everything to me.

“Alex just walked in,” I lied. “He’s outside and wants to talk to you.”

She was skeptical of my words, but must’ve believed them because she turned to Porter and said, “Find me later?”

I watched as she eagerly walked away, tempted to trip her. When I turned back to Porter, his eyes were on Charlotte’s departure too.

“Almost ready to go?” I asked, hoping he would say yes. I had to be back at the Hendersons’ in an hour, and if we left now, we’d have some time alone. Lately, all we’d been doing was partying. When I told Porter that I wanted to have fun, this wasn’t what I meant.

For the last three days, I’d finish tutoring, meet up with Porter, and we’d head straight to his friend Cody’s place. His parents were out of town, and his babysitter, who was his older sister, was more focused on spending time with her boyfriend than paying attention to the chaos her little brother was creating.

The first night, there were only four of us. We hung out in Cody’s basement and passed a bottle of vodka around. The next night, there were at least ten other kids from our high school there. News must have spread about Cody’s parties, and now instead of one bottle of alcohol, there were at least five.

“I feel like we just got here!” Porter slurred.

If it wasn’t for the kitchen counter holding his body upright, I’m pretty sure he would have fallen over.

“I have to get back soon. The Hendersons have been getting suspicious about what I’ve been doing after school.”

“Kingsley,” he drawled, “do one last shot with me. Then we can go.” He wasn’t going to let it go until I did what he wanted.

“One shot. That’s it.”

Porter celebrated my decision by laying a kiss onto my lips. Public affection wasn’t something we usually did, but Porter was drunk, and all of the things he usually didn’t do were thrown out the window.

Two shots later, and still, Porter begged me to do “just one more!” My stomach was burning. Sweat covered the back of my neck. Two shots weren’t enough to make me drunk, since I’d built up my tolerance, but I wasn’t in the mood for drinking, and the more I swallowed, the more my stomach fought back.

I had fifteen minutes to get back or else I’d never be able to leave the house again. Mrs. Henderson would probably break every single bone in my body for showing up late. I wasn’t prepared to lose the tiny bit of freedom I had, so I pulled on Porter’s arm, begging him to leave.

“Fine,” he whined. “You can be such a baby sometimes.”

I ignored his spiteful words, struggling to support his weight as we walked down the street. Each step was like trying to climb up a mountain, and by the time we got to the corner, I thought about puking. I looked at my watch. I had ten minutes to get home. My feet had to cross the threshold at exactly 8:30 or else I’d be a goner. My backpack weighed heavy on my shoulders and my attempt at carrying Porter was failing. He lived close to Cody’s, so I was thankful that we were almost there.

Porter continued babbling in my ear, telling me how much
fun
we were having.

“This isn’t fun for me, Porter,” I confessed. I knew he wouldn’t remember me telling him this tomorrow, so I disclosed everything on my mind. “Drinking every night. Carrying you to your house. Putting on a perfect performance so that the Hendersons won’t find out what I’ve been up to after school. It’s not fun!”

The closer we got to his house, the heavier he became. My shoulders were numb, my arms aching. I was much smaller than Porter, and having to brace him for blocks was barely manageable. We approached Porter’s front yard, and I carefully held onto his arms, making sure he was able to stand before letting him go.

“Are you okay?” I asked. I wished I could walk him up to his bedroom, crawl into his bed with him, and share the same pillow. I wanted to be surrounded by his scent all night and make sure he didn’t get sick.

“Yeah,” he replied, pushing away my arms. “I can fucking stand up, just let me go!” He fought his way out of my arms and stumbled up his driveway.

I was losing him. I knew it just by the way he looked at me. There was a blankness about it, almost like he was staring at an empty wall. Tonight, when he looked at Charlotte, that’s when I really knew. The eyes that once showed me everything were now becoming absent.

“Porter,” I said, running up to meet him. I was tempted to tell him why sometimes I couldn’t stay later at night. Why I could never take weekend trips with him and his parents. I wanted to tell him to stay with me until I turned eighteen, because then I could do everything with him. “I hope you sleep okay.”

The words I wanted to say were shoved deep into my stomach and locked away. I could never let Porter know how unstable my home life was. I could never let anyone know. If someone were to find out the things that happened to me at the Hendersons’, I’d be sent back to the children’s home. I’d be locked inside a room and forced to listen to the other miserable cries around me. I’d be taken away from Porter.

No one would ever find out, and I would never tell.

I got home right on time. The moment I stepped inside, Mrs. Henderson was bounding down the stairs.

“You’re late,” she announced.

The tone of her voice indicated that no matter what I said, it didn’t matter. Her mind was made up. I backed into the door, reminded that it wasn’t long ago that I was hurt in this same spot.

“It’s 8:32, Kingsley,” she said, stepping off the last step. “There’s just no excuse for you to be late.”

She moved in front of me and raised her arm. I flinched, closing my eyes, and waited for the impact...but there was none. When I opened one eye, Mrs. Henderson was still there, but her arms were down at her side.

“I wasn’t going to hit you,” she declared.