Authors: Eveline Hunt
He didn’t look at me. Eyes not leaving the beginnings of his current masterpiece and voice as cool as it’d ever been, he said, “I’m not laughing at anything.”
But then the softest wink of silver touched my nose, fluttered down and kissed my chin. Frowning, I reached up to slap it away. There was nothing there.
The side of Slade’s lips twitched. When he felt me giving him a narrow-eyed stare, he spared me a sidelong glance. “May I help you?”
I turned in my seat, tightened my mouth, and ignored him for the remainder of the period.
When the bell rang, I yanked up my stuff, zipped my book bag shut, and was out the
door before my classmates had the chance to say,
Wut?
I exploded into the hallway and undid the knots of my earphones, plugging myself into my cello awesomeness.
At my locker,
I stowed away my math textbook and reached into my bag to get my sketchpad, then stopped when a piece of paper crinkled against my hand. I yanked it out and hissed when I realized that it was the drawing that Slade had sketched the first day.
Ugh. Just holding it made me want to hurl.
But against my better judgment, I unfolded it, not surprised by what I saw. My face stared back at me, expertly drawn, my brows twin flawless arches and my eyelashes so long that they obscured my eyes. I hated to admit it, but the bastard had talent. Capturing my model good-looks had to be the hardest thing anyone had ever done on this earth.
And then I saw them.
At the bottom of the page, two sentences awaited me, written in a small print that eerily echoed Ash’s left-handed scrawl.
Silly girl,
it read.
The joke’s on you.
I didn’t have time
to decide what it might mean.
Suddenly
, one hand landed on the locker next to mine, having snaked out from behind me. Three deadly-looking rings glared at me from its tan, slim fingers. Boyish boots came to rest outside my chucks, and a hard chest pressed against the back of my head.
“What’s that?”
asked Ash, leaning over to look.
I shucked the drawing into my locker.
“Nothing. Could you—” Noticing how close he was, I edged away from him. “Mind taking a step back?”
“Nah.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Kill me after I
look at myself in your mirror.” He flicked a silky tuft out of his eyes, meeting his gaze in the warped surface that reflected our faces back to us. My head was at the bottom. Five foot zero and this was what I had to show for it. “Look at that,” he said. “He’s so fucking hot. I bet he gets lots of action. Threesomes every half-hour—”
“Verbal
porn
. Keep it off my damn porch.”
“Look at that mouth. Don’t you want to kiss that mouth, Zel?”
Ha. “I’d be better off licking a urinal.”
“I can think of
other things you can lick. One of them is sitting right here.”
He really
thought he was going to get a rise out of me. It was hilarious. “Am I supposed to blush or something?” I said, bored. “Or what?”
“You have a face made of steel. I don’t expect as much.”
It was true. I wasn’t that big of a blusher. “Lovely. Okay. The bell is about to ring—”
That shadow again. Curling along the back of his neck, snuggling up to him. It was gone before I could decide whether it had been there or not.
Ash was oblivious to my sudden pause. “Ah,” he said. “I almost forgot. What about my tongue, eh, love?”
“Call me that one more time—” Clenching my teeth,
I rearranged my books, making sure to keep the drawing stuck in between my math and English texts. “What about it?”
Doing
the freaky thing that people with tongue piercings always do, he rested a silvery orb between his lips, letting it wedge through. When he saw me staring at it, he flipped it around and did it again, holding back a smile when my parched lips parted. Thirst response was rising. Need that mouth. Need it now.
He leaned down and placed his face next to mine, his hair brushing my temple.
Once again, something cool curled around my waist, bringing me back against him.
“Thinking of the magic tricks
I could do with this tongue, Zel?” he asked, turning his head and letting his lips brush across my jawline. “I’m quite hungry. I can think of a couple of things I’d like to eat.”
Getting back to my senses, I elbowed him back. “You’re an extra dose of annoying today. Add a side of nasty and a whole entree of
douchebaggery and you’re unbearable. And don’t you know the meaning of personal space?”
He didn’t straighten
. “Not when it comes to you, love.”
“You really want to get shot.”
“I’ve already been shot. One arrow and that’s all it took.”
“Your romantic self really scares me. Truly, it’s a terrifying thing.” Before I forgot to give it to him, I took out a card from my back pocket and held it up. A girl had given it to me earlier. For him. “You’ve got mail, by the way.”
He took it and
eased it open. “Always brightens my day.”
“What the hell are you doing?” I tried to duck out of his hold. “Don’t read it with me here. You’re being mean to the girl who wrote it.”
“It’s my note and I can share it with whoever the fuck I want to.”
“You want to share it with me?” No. I didn’t want to read it. I didn’t want to see his reaction,
didn’t want to hear him read my feelings out loud. “Do tell me,” I said. “Why, oh why, am I granted this privilege?”
“So you can take not
es for when you write Hunter a love letter.”
“Should I puke into your mouth?” I asked sweetly. “Or should I puke
over your face?”
Ash looked amused. Resting his lips on top of my head—really, someone had better teach the boy a thing or two ab
out giving a girl space—he looked down at the note, which was written in pink pen and overridden with hearts. Already, I was starting to cringe. He trailed a fingertip over a smiley face and murmured against my hair, “Don’t do that. You’ll scare him away.”
“I’m seriously considering punching you in the balls right now.”
I thought I felt him smile. “There are a lot of things I want you to do with my balls, Zel, and punching is not one of them.”
“Would you get this over with already?”
“‘Dear Ash,’” he started.
Someone kill me now.
“‘We’ve been talking for a while now,’” he read, pressing closer behind me, his lips trailing to the side of my head. “‘And I think you’re a very nice guy. I’m sure you’ve heard this from a thousand other girls, but I really, really like you.’ Cute. I like you, too, Gina-buns. ‘You’re sweet and funny and your tongue piercing is kind of weird, but it’s really nice, too. If you’re down for it, I’d love to go on a date with you sometime? But before we settle anything’—saw that shit coming—‘I’d like to know something. Is there anything between you…and…’”
Ash slowed
, trailed off. When he didn’t keep reading, I did. “‘…the girl with the green eyes?’” I said, not sure why he was weirded out. It was normal for girls to wonder, and I wasn’t particularly bothered. But when I saw what came next, I halted on my tracks. “‘The cute…’” I scrunched up my eyebrows. “‘…brunette one? I’ve seen the two of you kis—’”
He
snapped the card shut.
“Whoa, what?” I said, turning to look up at him. “Ash? What the hell did that say?”
He tucked it into his back pocket. “It’s my note. I don’t have to share what it says with you.”
“Hold on there, Miss Little Bitch Princess. As soon as she mentions me, it becomes my business.”
“She wasn’t describing you. She was talking about another girl. With green eyes.”
“And brown hair.” I arched an eyebrow. “Really.”
He said nothing.
My eyebrow edged higher. “Are you going to explain this shit, or am I going to have to drill it out of you?”
“I don’t understand why you think it’s you. There are plenty of girls walking around with green eyes and brown hair.”
“I agree that my looks are nothing special, but I’ve yet to see
you
with a girl that looks like me. Except, of course, me.”
“You’re not even brunette.”
“Then what the hell do you call my hair color?”
“The bitch baby of honey and caramel.”
The bell rung, signaling the beginning of next period, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. “Okay, I want you to say it with me,” I said, enunciating each word as if I were speaking to a child. “Take your time, okay? We learned the color wheel yesterday, and this should be very easy for you. What is the color of caramel?”
Ash said nothing.
I cupped a hand around my ear and tilted it toward him. “What was that, dearie? I couldn’t quite hear you.”
Nothing.
“Say it with me, now, okay?
Broooown
. Did you get that?
Broooown
. One, two, three. Together.
Broooo
—”
I cut off when, suddenly, h
e reached up and slammed my locker shut. Loudly. Not very nicely. I held back the urge to flinch and paused when I realized how close he was. His hand was splayed next to my face. The sleeve of his hoodie brushed the tips of my ear. He didn’t take his arm away, and I ended up trapped against the locker, shying away from his stare. His eyes were barely visible under the raven swaths of his hair.
“Remind me,” I said, letting out a nervous laugh, “to never, ever, ever piss you off again, Evans. If you g
ive me that look again, I’ll probably die on the spot. Do you want me to die on the spot? I don’t think you…” He said nothing, and my voice died inside my throat. “…do.”
S
lowly, he leaned down, coming so close that the tips of his hair entangled themselves with mine. His lashes fell. Shadowed his eyes. For the first time in my life, I noticed that there were gray flecks in his irises, interwoven with the hazel. A strange mix, but still pretty.
I tried to turn my head. “Get off me.”
“Mmm?” he murmured.
“Get off—”
He kissed me.
His lips tasted shockingly familiar. My eyes widened and then, unable to help themselves, fluttered shut. As if it came second-nature to me, I curled my arms around his torso, pressed tighter against him,
dug my fingertips into his back. He shivered under my touch. Trying not to smile, I bit his bottom lip. A gentle little nip. He gasped before delving deeper, reaching up and cradling the side of my neck and tilting my head back, his lips parting against mine. His tongue piercing caressed my own tongue, set a string of fires loose inside me and nearly had me curling my toes.
I was melting, I was drowning, and he smiled against my mouth. Something slithered along my waist and locked me tighter against him. I didn’t bother to look. I didn’t care.
And then—
Jolt.
—nothingness—
“‘—before we settle anything
,’”
read Ash, his chin resting on my head, “‘I’d like to know something.’ Saw that shit coming. ‘Is there anything between you…and the girl with the blue eyes? The cute blonde one? I’ve seen the two of you kissing around school…’ Nothing new there, Gina-buns. ‘In the hallways and stuff. It looks like you really, really, reeeeeally like her. Like,
like
her, like her.’ Leave it to a girl to use four bloody likes in a row. ‘I feel so rude for saying this, but the two of you don’t act like you’re going out. So I was just wondering—’”
“Shut up,” I said, closing my eyes. I reached up and, scrunching my eyebrows, massaged my temples. Something felt weird. Wrong
. I just had the strangest…episode. Ash. Kissing me? Just a moment ago. Right? But the more I thought about it, the more it slipped away. A faded blur overlapping with reality. A faint image clouding the real thing: him reading the note, him tucking my head under his chin. Right?
“No,” I said, and snatched the card
from him. “No. You read it wrong. It said something else.”
He
smiled against my hair. “Oh?”
I
scanned the contents of the letter. I was sure—I was so damn sure—
“Looking for something in particular?” he asked, his lips trailing to the side of my head again. “Let me see. Maybe I can help you.”
I ducked out of his grasp, turning to face him.
Girl with the blue eyes…pretty blonde one?
“No,” I said. “It said something else. I just—I don’t know wh—”
I looked up at him and stopped at what I saw. Flushed cheekbones. Bottom lip lush and rosy, as though it’d been bitten.
The faint blur flickered in front of my eyes again. But…a blur of what? What in the—what had I been talking about? I couldn’t…remember.
Trying to hide my confusion
, I closed the card and held it out to him. “Your face is red,” I said. “And honestly, it’s freaking me out.”
He took the note and tucked it into his back pocket,
suppressing a smile. “Declarations of love never fail to make me blush.”
“False. I’ve never seen you blush because of a so-called declaration of love.”
“You do know we’re late to class?”
“You’re so smooth when it comes to changing the subject, I’d scrape my ass if I tried to rub it against that attempt. And yeah. I know. I don’t particularly care.” I bended down to get my bag from the floor and hiked it onto my shoulder. “It’s just math,
anyway.”
Big mistake.
“Let’s get you that tardy pass,” he said, turning to walk toward the office.
I followed, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? Come on. We should skip the rest of the period. Please. I’ll let you teach me the next lesson. I know w
hat the teacher’s doing today, and you can go over it with me.”
“Fine. I’ll do it.” A sidelong glance. “And afterwards, I’ll eat your mouth.”
“What?”
The
edges of his lips twitched. “Nothing.”
An
assistant principal passed by, and I hid around the corner until she was gone. Ash walked ahead of me as though he didn’t have a care in the world. In fact, he reached into his back pocket and fished out a Milky Way, leisurely unwrapping it and taking a lazy bite.
When I caught up to him, I said, “Aren’t you afraid of getting in trouble?”
“Does this look like the face of a person who gives a fuck?”
Right. “Good point.”
We went to our tree, which was out of sight of the main building, and sat under it. Grumbling, I took out my math text. He slid behind me and placed his legs outside of mine, reaching around to ease my book open. His cheek brushed the side of my head; the silky tips of his hair tickled my temple.