Easy (21 page)

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Authors: Tammara Webber

Tags: #Young Adult Fiction

BOOK: Easy
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Chapter 17

 

 

I hadn’t attended any Greek events
since the Halloween party, and had only seen Buck in passing since the
stairwell incident—always within a group, and always in public. When he moved
closer, I moved away, as though his very being repelled me, which was true. The
mere thought of him still made my mouth go dry and my stomach knot.

In our room, Erin
turned after her final mirror check. “He’d better stay the hell away from you
or I will whip out the
lawnmower
on his ass,” she declared.

“That move’s not
for ass use,” I joked, hating the tremor that lanced through me at the thought
of Buck with his arms banded around me. I hoped Erin was ready to have a
shadow, because I didn’t intend to leave her side.

Her arm encircling
my shoulders, she turned us both to face the full-length mirror. “We look
hot
,
girlfriend.” Her eyes met mine in the reflection. “Thanks for doing this. The
girls have been real supportive, but they’re not you. I feel stronger knowing
you’ll be with me.”

I smiled and
hugged her to my side. We did look hot. In the shimmery silver dress, with her
silver-strappy heels, Erin was her own disco ball. My blue sheath—simply cut in
front and the exact shade of my eyes—looked basic if not dull next to Erin,
until I turned around. The combination of bass playing and yoga had given me a toned
back, and the dress showed it off with a “V” cut almost to the waist. The nosebleed-level
black patent slingbacks on my feet negated
dull
quite a bit all on their
own.

Erin did a couple
of dance moves. “Let’s go make Chaz wish he was never born.”

I rolled my eyes
and laughed. “Oh, Erin. I’m so glad you’re on my side.”

“Damn right,
bitch.” She slapped my butt and we grabbed our coats.

In unspoken
agreement, we passed the stairwell door and walked down the wide, open front
staircase to meet our ride. Everyone we passed gawked—one scrawny freshman
tripping on a step, his eyes moving between Erin and me. Luckily, he was going
up, so he landed on both hands, practically at Erin’s feet. “Whoa,” he breathed
taking her in.

She patted his
head as she passed him, crooning, “Aww, how sweet,” like he was a puppy. His adoring
expression at her touch indicated that
here
was a guy willing to put her
on a pedestal and treat her like a goddess. I suspected that Erin didn’t want
that from a guy nearly as much as she insisted she did.

 

***

The men of Chaz’s fraternity had
gone all out, hanging an actual disco ball and hiring a band. Outfitted in
suits, ties, and a hazardous level of confidence, they all looked hotter than
hell and every one of them knew it. Two guys from the pledge class were at the
door, one hanging coats, the other taking the plus-one invitation Erin handed
over and giving us each a strip of tickets for the ‘bar’ set up in the kitchen
and a raffle ticket for the table of prizes another pledge watched over.

The prizes were
mostly electronic provisions—from iPods to game systems to a 42” flatscreen. “
Boys
,”
Erin scoffed. “Where’s a spa day? Or a Victoria’s Secret shopping spree?” The
table guard’s eyes widened in obvious approval of the latter idea.

“Hello, Erin,” a
deep voice said. We turned, and there was Chaz, looking amazing in a
perfectly-cut charcoal gray suit and red tie that somehow blended perfectly
with Erin’s hair. He glanced at me, his eyes warm and friendly. “Hi,
Jacqueline.” I sensed no reproach over the fact that their relationship had
detonated over Erin standing up for me.

“Hi, Chaz. The
place looks awesome.” I answered for both of us while Erin swayed to the music
and waved at friends, as though her ex didn’t exist. The theme of the Bash this
year was
Saturday Night Fever
. The band shifted from playing a Keith
Urban cover to a Bee Gees song—something popular when my parents were in grade
school, maybe.

Chaz glanced
around perfunctorily, his eyes returning to me. “Thanks,” he said, and then he
only had eyes for Erin. Watching the people already dancing, she snagged a full
red cup from a passing guy with a handful of them. He started to protest, but Chaz
glared, daring him to say a word to her. He buttoned his lip and kept moving.

While she sipped
and pretended to be oblivious to his presence, he stared at her. It was obvious
where he wanted this to go, and the fact that Erin was conspicuously gazing
anywhere but at him told me she was anything but immune. They didn’t move from
each other’s orbits the rest of the night, but he didn’t attempt to speak to
her again, either.

I knew Chaz was a
good guy, if misguided and gullible. He’d swallowed Buck’s side of what
happened between us, had argued with Erin that maybe I was drunk that night,
and I didn’t remember everything clearly. He was probably one of those boys to
whom rapists were ugly men who jumped out of bushes, assaulting random girls.
Rapists weren’t your nice-guy coworker, or your frat brother, or your best
friend.

Maybe it never
occurred to him that his best friend was capable of ripping a girl’s
self-confidence away in the span of five minutes. That he could hurt someone
innocent to wound a rival. That he could violate her in a twisted attempt to obliterate
his own powerlessness. That he could make her feel constantly threatened, and
not give a shit.

The only time I
felt completely safe was when I was with Lucas.

Damn.

Ten minutes later,
I was watching Buck dance with a senior from Erin’s sorority. He smiled and
laughed, and so did she. He looked so… normal. For the first time, I wondered
if I was the only girl he’d ever terrorized, and if so, why. I jumped when I
heard Kennedy’s voice in my ear. “You look stunning, Jacqueline.” My drink sloshed
over the cup’s rim onto my hand, luckily missing my dress. He took the cup from
my hand. “Ah, I’m sorry—didn’t mean to startle you. C’mon, let me get you a
towel.”

I was disconcerted
enough from his arm steering me through the crowd, his hand on my bare back,
that I wasn’t aware of the separation from Erin until we were in the kitchen
with my arm over the sink as though I had a mortal injury rather than a
beer-soaked hand. He rinsed and patted my hand dry, and I withdrew it from his
grasp when he didn’t let go right away.

He ignored my
withdrawal, smiling down at me. “As I was trying to say before—you look
beautiful tonight. I’m glad you came.”

The music was
loud, and conversation required us to stand closer than I wanted to be. “I came
for Erin, Kennedy.”

 “I know. But that
doesn’t diminish my satisfaction that you’re here.”

He was wearing his
usual Lacoste cologne, but it no longer made me want to lean against him and
inhale. Once again, he stood in direct contrast to Lucas, whose scent wasn’t
any one thing—it was his leather jacket and his barely-there aftershave, the
meal he’d cooked for me and the subtle yet sharp smell of graphite on his
fingers after he’d been drawing, the exhaust of his Harley and the minty
shampoo smell of his pillow.

One brow cocked,
Kennedy looked at me closely, and I realized he’d probably said or asked
something.

“I’m sorry, what?”
I leaned my ear toward him so I could take a second to push Lucas from my mind.

“I said, ‘Let’s
dance.’”

Unable to shake my
errant thoughts, I agreed and let my ex lead me to the designated dance floor,
right in front of the band. An area had been cleared of furniture just under
the motorized disco ball, which hung dangerously low for some of the taller
guys. Rotating slowly, its mirrored surface threw flashes of light in waves
around the room, illuminating faces and gyrating bodies, and glinting off any
reflective surface from doorknobs to jewelry to Erin’s silver dress. Her hands
were locked behind the neck of a Pi Kappa Alpha senior, an empty cup hanging
from her fingertips. Her dance partner was unknowingly at the receiving end of
a death glare from Chaz. Erin had noticed, though, and she pressed closer to him,
staring up into his eyes with rapt attention.

Poor Chaz. I
should be angry with him, too, but he was clearly miserable.

“I heard about
Chaz and Erin. What happened?” Kennedy had followed my gaze.

“You should ask
him.” I wondered what Kennedy would make of Buck’s behavior. They were civil
with each other, but that competitive fixation had been between them from day
one.

“I did, sort of.
He didn’t seem to want to talk about it. Said they’d had a big fight, she was being
unreasonable, blah blah—you know, the stupid stuff guys say when we fuck up
something good.”

Just then, the
music changed to something fast, allowing me to reinstate my bubble of personal
space and fortunately axing the conversation about breakups and fuckups. I was
so relieved to end that exchange that I failed to pay attention to where Erin
was. I failed to pay attention to where Buck was.

In a lull between
songs, he walked up behind me. “Hey, Jacqueline” he said, and I jumped for the
second time that night. “Are you done dancing with this loser? Come dance with
me.” The hair on my arms stood on end, every nerve in my body on full alert,
and I moved closer to Kennedy, who put his arm around my shoulders. I didn’t
want his arm on me, but given the choice between them, there was no choice.

Smiling, Buck held
out a hand.

I stared at it, incredulous
and cringing closer to Kennedy, whose body became rigid, aligned with mine. “No.”

With his usual indolent
smirk, Buck gazed down at me as though my ex wasn’t there. Like we were alone.
“All right then, maybe later.”

I shook my head
and focused on the word I’d said over and over that morning. The word that
preceded every kick. “I said
no
. Don’t you understand
no
?” From
the corner of my eye, I saw Kennedy’s gaze snap to my face.

Buck’s eyes
narrowed and his mask of indifference slipped for a split second. And then he
recovered and the guise was back in place. I knew in that moment that he wasn’t
giving up. He was merely biding his time. “Sure. I hear you.
Jacqueline
.”
His eyes shifted to Kennedy, whose guarded expression was at odds with the
piqued rigidity of his body. “Kennedy.” He nodded and Kennedy responded in
kind, and then he walked away.

I slumped against
my ex, and then moved out of his grasp, my eyes searching for Erin’s silver
dress amongst the crush of people in the little house.

“Jacqueline,
what’s going on between you and Buck?”

I ignored his
question. “I need Erin. I need to find Erin.” I started in the opposite
direction Buck had gone and Kennedy grabbed my upper arm to pull me back. I
wrenched it away, and then realized people were staring.

He moved closer,
without touching me. “Jacqueline, what’s going on? I’ll help you find Erin.” His
voice was low, for my ears only. “But first, tell me. Why are you so angry at
Buck?”

I looked up at him
and my eyes stung. “Not here.”

He compressed his
lips. “Come with me? To my room?” When I hesitated, he added, “Jacqueline,
you’re freaking out. Come talk to me.”

I nodded and he
led me up the stairs.

He shut the door
and we sat on his bed. His room, as usual, was neat and organized, though the
bed wasn’t made, and there were jeans and shirts tossed over his desk chair. I
recognized the sheets and duvet cover we’d chosen before coming back to campus
this fall, because he wanted something new. I recognized his bookcase and his
favorite novels, his law books, his collection of Presidential biographies. The
contents of this room were familiar. He was familiar.

 “What’s going
on?” His concern was genuine.

I cleared my
throat and told him what happened the night of the Halloween party, leaving
Lucas out of the story. Listening silently, he got up and paced, taking deep
breaths, his fists knotted. When I was done, he stopped and sat, hard. “You
said you got away. So he didn’t—?”

I shook my head.
“No.”

A breath whooshed
out of him. “
Goddammit
.” He pulled his tie loose and unbuttoned the top
button of his white dress shirt. His teeth were clamped so tightly that the
cords of his neck popped out under his skin like pipes running from his jaw
down. He shook his head and smashed a fist on his thigh. “
Motherfucker
.”

Kennedy wasn’t
usually much of a curser—certainly neither of these words was part of his standard
vocabulary. He peered at me closely. “I will handle this.”

“It’s already
been—it’s over, Kennedy. I just… I just want him to leave me alone.” I was
curiously without tears, which was odd. I felt like I’d gained strength from
telling him, just like I felt stronger after telling Erin.

His jaw clenched
again. “He will.” He took my face in his hands and repeated, “He will leave you
alone. I’ll make sure of it.” And then he kissed me.

The feel of his
mouth was as familiar as the items I’d catalogued when I walked into his room.
The books in the bookshelf. The comforter under my hand. The rock-climbing
equipment in the corner. The hoodie I used to borrow. The smell of his cologne.

Unwittingly, I
registered the feel of his lips, moving a little too roughly. I reasoned that his
anger at Buck made his kiss less tender, but I knew better. Because this, too,
was familiar. This kiss—it was how he’d always kissed me. His tongue snaked
into my mouth, possessively, and it was familiar and fine and not Lucas.

I jerked back.

His hands dropped.
“God, Jackie, I’m sorry—that was so inappropriate—”

I ignored his
slip. “No. It’s okay, I just… I don’t…” I cast about in my head, trying to
define what I didn’t want. We’d been broken up for seven weeks. Seven weeks,
and I was done. I stared at my palm, turned up on my lap; the realization and
the finality were something of a shock.

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