DRAWN (33 page)

          It’s Yuki.

          Yuki starts pushing his way into the crowd. Even if I don’t want to see him, it’s impossible, when he’s almost a head taller than most guys here. I watch how all the girls deliberately bump into him like he’s a magnet their bodies are drawn to, but he never takes his gaze off me. The closer he gets, the more I grind against Golf Guy, wiggling my butt like it’s turned into my built-in pom-poms.

          I keep waiting for Yuki to react, to do anything that tells me I’m a slut.

          But there’s just this weird expression on Yuki’s face that makes it look like he hates himself. Why should he? Can’t he see he has nothing to worry about? I’m
nothing
like Akito-san. Yuki’s dad tried to take his life. I’m grabbing mine by the balls and just totally going wild with it.

          When Yuki stops a foot away from me, I finally get to see his baby blues close up.

          No.

          Squinting, I tell myself I’m mistaken. I must be.

          He’s so unfair.

          After everything he’s said and done, why is he looking at me like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world?

          Can’t he see Golf Guy trying to dry-hump me from behind? Can’t he see how
far
I’ve moved on?

          Desperate to escape Yuki’s gaze, I whirl around to face Golf Guy, taking him by surprise. “This is your lucky night,” I tell him. It’s all the warning he has before I French-kiss him.

          Someone pulls my hair from behind.

          What the fuck?

          “Stop it!” I hear Lace scream as I get twisted around by the hair.

          “Shit, babe, I can explain!” Golf Guy gasps.

          And then I find myself face to face with a monster.

          I mean, Grendel.

          Now I realize why Golf Guy’s so familiar. He’s totally famous in school for being the boyfriend of Grendel. Her real name’s Glenda, but no one calls her that. Everyone calls her Grendel.

          Because she’s as ferocious as the monster in Beowulf.

          Because she’s the reigning female MMA champion of the Immaculate Heart Academy.

          Because she sent another girl to the hospital for just daring to flirt with him on Facebook.

          And now she knows I just happened to kiss her guy.

          She raises her fist, getting ready to smack me down.

          Oh, fuck. I am so dead.

“Deez ertz,” Jace mutters from his place across the table.

          We’re at the diner that I used to go to with
that
person. I was shocked when Lace suggested we go there. I never thought she knew the place existed, too.

          Lace bursts into laughter at Jace’s attempt to speak even with his busted lip and cracked jaw, Christmas gifts courtesy of Grendel’s fist. I owe him my life. I don’t think I’m even exaggerating.

          “It hurts?” I want to shrink into a ball of misery and shame at Jace’s garbled words. The fluorescent light emphasizes the discoloration on Jace’s face, which is a mixture of green, purple, and red specks of crusted blood.

          Seeing it, I grab a paper napkin from the holder, dipping it in water. I try to scrape the blood away as gently as possible, but Jace still winces.

          Even so, he grins. “Vewemver Yuti
?”

          My hand trembles a little. “Yes, I do.” Of course I remember Yuki doing the very same thing to me, although that time it was just egg yolk. Jace’s case is so much worse.

          Lace stops laughing. “How the heck did you translate that?”

          “Zyez virty.”

          He’s right.

          “What did he say?”

          I crumple the used tissue away when I’m done cleaning his face the best I could. My hands are still shaking so I wrap them around my coffee cup – with its fourth refill – and take another sip. I’m already sober, but I’m hoping the massive amount of caffeine I’m gulping in will hide the smell of liquor in my breath. I should remember to buy mints later.

          Lace elbows me.

          “Huh?”

          She nods to Jace. “What did he say?”

          I give her a slight smile. “He says I’m feeling guilty.”

          “Oh.” Lace leans against her chair. “You should.”

          “I’m sorry.” It’s probably the fourteenth time I’ve apologized, but I won’t get tired of saying the words. I must have been out of my mind to do those things. If there’s one thing about tonight – last night – I have to be thankful for, then it’s probably the realization that I’m just not cut out to be a slut.

          Like an idiot, I had tried to be one, just because my dad and Yuki thought I was.

          But I wasn’t.

          I’m not going to let myself be a whore just because they say so. It’s not going to be easy to forget that what I thought was fun – that what I later thought I was doing for love – was not the same for Yuki. For all I know, it was just a fucking way to pass the time,
literally.

          But fuck that. It was what it was, and now I’m over it. To hell to anyone who’ll always think I’m the biggest slut in this side of Florida. Fuck them, I say. At least I still have my friends---

          I sit up. “What about Megan and Hubert?” I can’t believe I only remembered them just now.

          She snorts. “Ran away the moment the trouble started.”

          “Don’t get mad at them,” I say automatically. “This isn’t their fault. It’s mine.”

          She shrugs, her stoic expression telling me better without words what she thinks of the two.

          I take another gulp of coffee. “So…how did you guys know where I was?”

          “Your mom.”

          I spit the coffee out.

          Jace groans.

          Oh, shit.

          Grabbing another paper napkin, I mop up the drops of spit coffee on his arm. “Sorry,” I say in a small voice. I won’t blame him if he hates me now. I’m a total danger to him. If we walk out of the diner together, he’s probably going to get hit by a truck or something just because he’s with me.

          “I don’t understand…” I stop speaking as a piece of memory fleets through my mind. Shit. I drop my head on the table. “She’s tracked me by GPS.”

          Lace’s eyes widen. “You think?”

          “100% sure of it,” I say miserably. I better forget about the mints then. Any more attempts to cover up the truth’s just going to get me grounded longer.

          “Zee vaz zo vowid.”

          “Yeah, I know. I was…you know. Really crazy these past few days,” I admit in a small voice. Everything about the past three days is a fast-forward blur, with just cringe-worthy moments sticking out. But now, with my world getting back on track, my sins have caught up with me, and it’s not…cool. 

          Lace lets out a big sigh. “What did he say again?”

          “He says my mom was really worried about me.”

          “All of us were. You should have seen Yuki---”

          I think I got lost somewhere in the middle of the conversation. “What does…he have to do with this?” I can’t bear saying his name. It’s bad luck.

          “Your mom called Yuki and he called Jace and me. He wanted us to come and get you since he was worried his presence was going to make things worse.”

          That makes me ask for another refill. Nothing I can do now will probably worse than the memory of the gag-inducing, too-wet taste of Golf Guy’s lips.

          “He was really worried about you, you know?”

          “He’s just guilty.”

          “Ze wuvz yu.”

          I laugh at that. I have to. “No, Jace. He does not love me. He’s told me so himself.” I need to change the subject or I’m going to flood the diner with my tears, which would be totally uncool for tonight’s Rockstar KC. “Will we get trouble in school tomorrow?”

          She and Jace exchange looks.

          I tell myself I’m not hurt that they have a secret they’re not willing to share with me. The way I’ve been acting lately, I’m lucky they still cared enough to save my ass.

          “It’s being taken care of.” She glances at her watch.

          “Do you need to go home?” I ask.

          “Yeah. Jace’s driving me.”

          Oh. Okay. And me?

But I don’t ask it. I know I don’t deserve to. If I’m old enough to get drunk and get trashed, then I should be old enough to get a cab and go home on my own.

“KC?”

“Yeah?”

“You owe us, right?”

“Anything you two ask that I can do, consider it done.” I mean it.

She crosses her arms. “Good. Because we asked Yuki to take you home.”

Shock leeches the blood from my system, making me feel like hyperventilating.

She stands up and Jace does the same. I’m still a rock in my seat, but Lace pulls me up. I frantically grab her arm as we start walking toward the doors. “Lace, I don’t think I can do that.”

“You have to. I can’t bear seeing you like this anymore.”

Tears sting my eyes again. I don’t think I’ve ever cried this much in my life. “Lace, I promise I won’t get drunk anymore. I won’t flirt with your boys again.”

“You better not be since I’ve got an out of game this weekend and you cost my power forward to miss practice yesterday,” Lace mutters darkly.

I wince. “I promise I won’t even
look
at anyone from the basketball team.”

Lace exhales, the air forcing strands of her hair to fly up. “I was just kidding.”

“I mean what I said so--”

“I just want to see you happy again.” She drags me out of the diner with her.

“I will. I swear, I’m going to be---”

“You said you owed us. Do this for us. Just this once.” She’s using her omniscient coach’s voice, speaking as the one who knows
better,
which means I can’t argue.

And then there’s no point arguing because Yuki’s suddenly there, standing in front of me.

Pain starts excavating a hole inside my chest.

“Vud wuck,” Jace says before he and Lace leaves.

“Thanks,” I murmur even though I know no amount of good luck is going to make this…this thing with Yuki hurt any less. It’s so unfair. Just when I’ve managed to start numbing myself against Yuki, fate forces him back into the picture. Didn’t he promise he’d walk out of my life for good?

He really is a god. A god – not
God.
I’ve read enough Greek myths to know that gods don’t mind breaking their promises whenever it suits them.

“Let me take you home---” Yuki’s voice falters.

I know he was about to call me
senpai
.

The hole in my chest gets bigger.

I nod, not looking at him. I follow him to his car and get in without a word. When I’ve snapped my seatbelt into place, I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t make myself see him. I can’t. I just can’t. The rest of the ride is agonizingly silent, the tension between us practically a live being, taunting us of words we’ve said and words we have to say but don’t.

          We get to my house in twenty, but it feels like I’ve gone through a decade of hideous mindless torture. “No need to walk me to the door,” I mutter in a rush as I get out.

          But of course he doesn’t listen.

          Yuki captures my hand just as I’m halfway to our front door.

Déjà vu, I think as he spins me around. Before I know it, I’m staring at Yuki.

Shit, shit, shit.

          Why is he still so fucking gorgeous in my eyes? Yuki’s hair is hand-combed-messy, his baby blues dark. Black shirt, sweat pants, and trainers usually make a boring outfit, but on Yuki it just makes him look like a walking ad for Nike going sexy. The deep V of his black shirt offers a tantalizing glimpse of skin, and its short sleeves emphasize the cut of his muscles---

          What the fuck am I doing, fantasizing about him again? Am I stupid or what?
This
was what got me into trouble in the first place.

          “
Senpai
.”

          I manage to twist my hand away from his hold and cover my ears. “I don’t want to hear you speak!” I can’t afford to.

          His fingers encircle my wrist before forcibly pulling my arms down to my side.

          Shit.

          “I need you back in my life.” He sounds hoarse, like he’s practiced the words a thousand times his voice has become paper thin.

          “No, you don’t,” I say dully.

          “I’m sorry I fucked up,
senpai
.”