Rival Love (11 page)

After about twenty minutes I set my guitar back on its stand. I take a seat at my desk and work through my piles of homework. As soon as I finish with my Italian assignment, I finally rest my eyes, just long enough to be woken by loud shouts and the slamming of car doors. “Dude! You were on
fi
-re!” I hear.

The front door opens and Caleb shushes someone. “I think Liv is upstairs sleeping. Let me go check real quick.”

“Let me go, I wanna ask her why she didn’t come to our game. She missed the touchdown I scored for her.”

Those two are so flipping loud. All right, at least Caleb is trying to shush the boy. I peer down at my book and exhaustion creeps up again. “Dude! Stop it! She’ll be pissed off if you just waltz in there and drill her with questions.”

“I swear, man…you say you hate her but you’re awfully protective of her. What’s up? Did you decide you wanted to get a little piece of it after all?”

I groan at the thought of either of them wanting any of me. I move toward the door and flip the lock. Then for the hell of it I make moaning sounds, “Ummm…oh…yeah…”

“Shush…what’s that…”

“Oh…yeah! Right there! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Dude! She’s totally banging someone in there or she’s playing with herself.”

Stifling back my own laughter at these two morons, I jump around on the bed and scream out, “Holy…hell yeahs!” And then my door bursts open.

Chapter 20

Caleb

Derrick insists on coming into the house while I go get my shower and change real quick for Amber’s party. He hounds me about taking Skylar with us, but she can’t come. She can only pull off the hat routine for so long before someone takes notice something is up.

Reaching her room, I hear her moaning and it’s the kind of moans girls do with me. She’s screwing someone in there, or she’s kinkier than I thought and using a toy. Either way, I shouldn’t give a damn, but it bothers me. Herself—totally hot. Another dude—no, that pisses me off.

Testing the handle, it doesn’t move much, meaning it’s locked. Before I realize what I’m doing, my foot is raised and ready to go through a door. The clearing of a throat causes me to halt. I look up and meet my uncle’s stern glare. “What’s going on here?”

Derrick stands next to me and shrugs. “Mr. Timmons, I swear we just got here and that was going on. Caleb was going to bust down the door right before you showed up.”

“Go stall Erin,” my uncle says.

Derrick elbows me down the steps. “She’s sooo busted. I kind of feel sorry for the dude in there.”

Just as he finishes the sentence, a loud “crack” fills the stairwell and Erin opens the front door. “Hey boys, how are…” She trails off when we all hear, “What the eff, Brian!”

“Oh Skylar, I’m so sorry, I just…It sounded like…”

Erin and I rush upstairs. I shove Derrick away as he tries to follow. Luckily Erin sees and says, “You need to have a seat in the living room, please. This is a family matter.”

Derrick reluctantly does what he’s told while I’m almost to the top of the stairs and hear, “You just busted down my door.”

“I’m soo…”

It’s weird hearing my uncle all apologetic. I glance into Skylar’s room and notice why he’s being all awkward now. Skylar is fully dressed and standing on her bed. There’s no dude in there, and she certainly doesn’t look like she was caught doing things to herself.

Erin clears her throat. “Does someone care to explain what’s going on here?”

Oh, this should be good.
“Well…the boys were standing outside her room, and there were…” Brian hangs his head and mumbles, “Sex sounds coming from here, and so I thought…”

“Liv?”

Skylar glares at Erin with her arms folded across her chest. “Seriously, Mom, he breaks down my door and I’m going to get in trouble?” She throws her hands up in the air. “This is such bullshit.”

“Watch the language, and what happened to your eye?”

And there it is. Skylar’s hand shoots up and she mumbles, “The bathroom door at school slammed right into my face. It’s not a big deal. Looks worse than it is.”

“That’s a handprint.”

Skylar hops from the bed and stomps her way across the room. “I told you stuff like this would happen. Stop staring at me like I’m a freak. A couple of girls got the best of me, big effing deal!”

She starts to push past Erin. I grab her wrist and pull her toward my room. “Just give us a couple of minutes.” Erin nods and Brian agrees. They retreat down the steps while I tug her to my room.

Once my door is closed Skylar wriggles out of my clutches and snaps, “This is all your fault.”

“My fault! Oh no, no, no, this is all you. No one told you to make screwing moans. You did that, baby.” I take a step closer to her, letting her tangerine scent assault me. God, she smells so good.

Her eyes flick from mine to my lips and then to the floor so quick I almost miss it. I push away from her and circle back to my dresser. “You aren’t going to last a freaking month let alone a whole school year if you don’t start defending yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you not hear my mom the other night? If she gets a phone call from the school, I’m practically dead. So what would you like me to do? Should I tell on every single person who trips me, pushes me into a corner, or decides to use me as a trash can?” I look over at her. “Let’s be honest this isn’t going away no matter what I do. People like Amber and her band of trolls can go screw themselves!” She turns to my door.

“What are you going to do then?”

“Nothing. Good night, Caleb.” She stalks out of my room, leaving me rendered speechless with lots of thoughts.

***

Derrick and I enter Amber’s parents’ house which is crowded. What happened at our house, if Derrick heard Erin about the bruised eye, he hasn’t said a word. And I’m not about to ask him. We make our way through the thick of the party and into the kitchen. Most of the linemen are in the back, lining up shots across an island while two receivers and a couple of cheerleaders stand around the keg.

Normally, I’d join Derrick for shots, but I go over to the keg instead. Snatching up a red cup, I tip back the frothy liquid. I manage to get a third of it down when someone squeezes my sides. I jump a little, causing some of my beer to spill onto my shirt. “I thought you’d never make it,” Amber purrs in my ear.

Flicking off some of the foam, I shrug. “Where else would I be?”

“Some other girl’s house.” She pouts.

My mood sours. There’s nothing more annoying than chicks pulling this stunt. Look, if there are other chicks, they’d know about it. “Nah. So, what did you think about the game?”

She smiles and lets her tongue dart out and slide across her full lips. I smile back and she snatches a full bottle of Jack. “How about you and I take our party somewhere else?” She stumbles a little toward a room off of the kitchen area.

I follow her, pushing my way past the guys. Derrick catches me and gives me a nod with a fist bump. “I’ll catch another ride.”

Chapter 21

Skylar

Dressed in all black from head to toe, I sneak one more quick glance at myself in the mirror and then smirk. Tonight, I’ve officially lost my mind, but in all fairness, boys are the spawn of the devil himself and they’ve driven me to this. At least, that’s my excuse this time.

Making my way through the kitchen, I glance around like a cat burglar and slip my keys from the hook near the back door. My wheels are technically still on lock down, but I need my revenge. Staying in stealth mode, I exit out the back of the house, and speed walk to my pretty, cherry-red Mini Cooper. Sliding into the front, leaving the door open, I pull the emergency brake and start to push it down the street. Two houses away, I slide back in and start it.

“Beg”
by Evans Blue blares from the speakers. My lips curl up at the ends. Shifting to first, I take off for a trip to the boundary line. I just hope I bought enough spray paint.

“Welcome to Livingston, home of the Harris Academy Bulldogs,” I read aloud. Yeah, I don’t think anyone is going to claim this as a welcome visit.

Driving past my old house, I sigh. My old bedroom’s light is on, and my insides instantly ache. I shouldn’t be thinking things like this—old room, old house, old neighborhood. This is home.

As I travel past Sam’s house, the pain increases to the point I can barely breathe. I almost stop but that’s not smart. Not tonight. Especially with what I plan on doing, I can’t leave behind witnesses or evidence.

Parking a block away from Kevin’s parents’ house, I slip on my ski mask and creep to his souped-up BMW coupe. I pull out my bag of goodies. The jar of ants, postal tape, Saran Wrap, Hershey’s syrup, and yellow spray paint lay in front of my feet.

Thank God Kevin’s such a delusional sap when it comes to locking his car when it’s parked in his neighborhood. It’ll be easy to put my little guys to work.

Okay, maybe it was a little presumptuous thinking this will be super easy. I know his house has only been tagged twice in the past four years. I think it has to do with his Doberman, Betsy, but I’m not worried about Betsy. That dog loves me, and I brought treats in case she comes prowling around here.

Carefully, I open up his passenger door with my gloved hand. I pop the top on the Hershey’s syrup and squirt it all over the inside of his precious sports car. The chocolate sauce is dripping from the ceiling to the floor, and sliding down the windows onto the door handles. Is this overly childish of me? Yes it is, but I don’t care.

Next, I twist off the lid of the jar holding my ants and I let them loose in their new home. Once they all leave the jar, I begin step three. Scanning my surroundings again, I unravel the Saran Wrap. Starting from the back bumper, I tape one corner and unroll. Five rolls later, I tape the final piece and then grab the spray paint.

A deep throaty growl startles me. Turning slightly, I notice Betsy and quickly lift my mask. “Betsy, it’s me. Come here, girl,” I whisper while patting my thigh. I kneel to my bag and fish through it for her treats. She charges me. Any other person would run, but I hold my ground, preparing myself for the next thing—Betsy colliding into me full force. Knocking me flat against the cement, her tongue slaps against my chin and runs up to my cheek. “Uck! Bets, come on. Your breath is terrible!”

“Betsy! Betsy, where the hell are you?” Kevin’s dad yells. I should go. I need to go. My work isn’t quite done yet though. I push Betsy off me and spray paint the words “Marked your ride, BITCH!” Then I shove all my things in my bag and run. “Betsy there you…what the?” is the last thing I hear before sprinting away.

***

Amber’s house is practically screaming “alert the cops”—there’s a lot of underage stuff going on here. Toilet paper sways in the trees, people I think are in my classes are tossing their cookies into the bushes, others stand around laughing.

I’m not here to party. Nope. My next target is Caleb, and his pretty little ride. This is for the boys’ bathroom incident, flushing me out of my shower, and finally the Saran Wrap on the toilet seat. And now that I think about it, I can see why they say a bathroom is a man’s throne room.

Skipping up to his bumper, I look around. No one is watching me, and the streetlight he’s parked under is out.
Perfect.
I wrap up his car bumper to bumper and roof to undercarriage. Once I’m done all it’s missing is a big red bow. Shaking my can of orange spray paint, I finish with the words, “I own you Morgan.”

Looking over my handy work, a smile creeps onto my face. I kind of want to see his face when he comes out here and sees this. But someone’s loud voice, carrying across the lawn, pulls me from my thoughts. “Thanks for giving me a lift, Lance. Morgan’s getting himself a piece tonight and you know how that shit is.”

I gather up my things and slink into the nearby bushes. “Yeah, yeah. And…Holy shit.”

“What?” is followed by an “Oh damn. I’ll go get him.”

Crap!
Lance hovers by the car, looking around. I’ve got to get out of here—and quick. Army-crawling through the neighbor’s lawn, fallen leaves crinkle underneath me. A stick jabs my side and I stifle back a cry of pain as it ripples through my body.

“Who’s there?” Lance yells.

I don’t answer. I spring up and run as fast as I can. My lungs burn with a fiery rage while my legs are ready to give way but I can’t stop. Because another set of feet are behind me and with my luck lately, Lance is sober.

Arms swoop around my waist and pull me into a yard. I crash on top of a pile of mulch. Fingers pull at my mask but I kick Lance hard. “Ghhh, balls.”

I get up and kick him a few more times for good measure. He groans and tries to reach for my foot but I sprint off to my car. It kills me not to drive past the house and catch a glimpse of Caleb’s reaction, but my clock says twelve in the morning, so I’ve got to get home. Mom will be checking in on me as usual and I need her as an alibi for both crimes.

God, I’m such a criminal.

Chapter 22

Caleb

Amber is down to her skimpy underwear, and I’m in my boxers when Derrick bursts into the room. “Dude! Your car got smacked!”

Amber yells, while trying to cover herself, and I’m pushing her off my lap. Grabbing my clothes, I toss them on so fast I almost trip slipping on my jeans. Hobbling into my shoes, I bump into walls. The room is spinning, and I’m so wasted it’s not funny.

I stumble out onto the lawn and down the street to where my car is. Approaching it with blurred vision I’m not seeing what the hell he’s talking about. And I’m about to tell him thanks for the cockblock, when I see it. “I own you Morgan?” Rage oozes from every part of me. “Goddamn Bulldogs!” I yell. My hands shake with violence, as malevolent thoughts fill my head. I’ve got to calm down before I hurt myself or someone else.