Ella's Twisted Senior Year (10 page)

I give Ethan a serious look. “Okay, we have a problem.”

He stops at the stop sign by the playground in our neighborhood and looks over at me. “What is it?”

I almost giggle because the seriousness in his eyes says he’s actually concerned. I hold up the carton of fries, keeping my expression hard.

“There’s only one fry left,” I say with a deep sorrow in my voice. “I think we’ll have to fight each other for it.”

He smirks and lets off the brake, steering us toward his house. “Should we suit up and make a wrestling ring in the back yard? Or just duel it out in the driveway?”

“Oh, Ethan you adorable idiot,” I say lightly as I hold the fry carton in the air like it’s a prized trophy. “We can’t duel over the fry at your house. Your mom will totally find out and then bust us for eating food from the dark side.

He slows down as he maneuvers around cars parked on the side of the road. “Looks like the showdown begins now.” His elbows lift and he leans down, giving me a fake evil glare.

“Looks like I have the advantage since I’m holding the fry cup,” I say, poking my nose in the air.

He rolls down his window and my eyes narrow. “What are you doing? There’s no fries outside.”

In a flash, he grabs the carton from me and holds it out of the window. “Now there is,” he says with a smile that makes a shiver run up my spine.

I grab for his right arm, which is on the steering wheel while the other arm taunts me with the last fry out of the window.

“You are pure evil, Ethan Poe.”

He throws his head back and laughs maniacally.

“Look what you did,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “We’re at your house now. That fry is officially contraband. Your mom likes me more,” I say, reaching over his lap and grabbing for his arm. He’s strong enough that I’m not getting anywhere, despite my efforts. “You should let me take it because she won’t get as mad at me.”

He shakes his head and leans to the right to let the fry slip further from my grasp. I’m practically crawling into his lap now, one hand on his knee and the other one grabbing for the container. “Why-are-your-arms-so-long?” I grunt out as I struggle to overpower him.

“Looks like I’m the winner,” he says. No,
whispers
. His lips are just inches from my ear and I pull back slightly, still hovering all over his side of the truck.

Butterflies freak out in my stomach and now there’s no way I could eat that fry even if I wanted to. I watch his eyes trail down to my lips and back up. We have to be thinking the same thing. Dangerous thoughts will only get me hurt again, so I sigh and lean back into the middle of the bench seat.

“I have an idea,” I say, taking a deep breath to calm my raging desire to kiss him. “Let’s split it.”

His head tilts to the side. “Diplomatic. I like it.”

He gives me the fry and I break it in half. Now it’s all cold and covered in too much salt from the bottom of the container but I give him his half and he eats it, so I eat mine too.

“Truce,” he says.

“Truce.”

We watch each other for a long moment—or maybe it’s just a few seconds. I can’t tell because my head is spinning. Finally, alarms go off in my head telling me to snap out of it and go inside. I turn and slide back to my side of the truck, my hand reaching for the door handle.

And then I yelp in surprise. Kennedy stands right on the other side of the door, her eyes blazing with a fury only she could manifest.

“What the—” Ethan says just before his door pops open. I watch him walk around the front of his truck. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asks her.

She shoves him in the chest with the palms of her hands. It’s not playful, either. He steps back a little and she comes at him again, arms swinging.

“You’re a liar! You said you weren’t going to hook up with her, you freaking liar!”

Ethan grabs Kennedy’s wrists to stop her from attacking him. “You need to calm down. You can’t come to my own house at yell at me.”

“I’ll do whatever I want!” she shrieks. Then she whirls around and invisible daggers pelt into me. I shrivel against the back of my seat.

Kennedy walks over and slams her hand against the window. “Get out here and face me,” she hisses. “You want to ruin my relationship? Get out here and tell me why.”

“Ella, stay inside,” Ethan says, holding up a hand to me. “Kennedy, get back in your car and leave. You’re being completely ridiculous.”

“You’re the one who lied to me,” she says, daring to cover her snarl with a sad little pout. I almost feel sorry for her, that’s how good she is. Then she tries to punch him again but he blocks it with his palm. “I can’t believe you left me for
her
.”

Ethan shakes his head. “I broke up with you because we’re not compatible. It has nothing to do with Ella. And you should listen to me this time because I’m sick of explaining it to you.”

Kennedy puts a hand on her hip. The stale taste of fries in my mouth makes me nauseous. Part of me thinks I might never get out of this truck, that Kennedy will keep circling around me like a shark waiting to devour its prey.

She puts her hands on her hips. “Promise me you won’t start dating her.”

Ethan laughs. Like, actually laughs, not just that smirky thing he always does. “I’m not promising you anything. Seriously, I meant it when I said we could stay friends but this is just insane.”

“Something is seriously wrong with you,” Kennedy says, straightening her shoulders. “
Her
over me? Really, Ethan? I made you prom king. You’d still be just a dumb jock if it wasn’t for me. How can you just throw that away for some loser?”

Ethan draws in a breath, looking up to the sky for a second. Behind us, dump trucks park on what used to be my house, the cleanup crew done for the day. He glances to me, who is still sitting in the truck like the loser that I am and then he points to the road. “You need to leave. The fact that you thought we were dating to elevate my social status says we’ll never be on the same page. Life isn’t some kind of popularity game to me, Kennedy. That’s why we broke up. You need to leave. And find a new date for prom.”

Kennedy’s fists shake at her sides. She turns toward me. “I hope you’re happy.”

I step out of the truck with fear nipping at my ankles. I know what the after school TV movies would say: Kennedy is a bully and bullies don’t get far in life. Shrug them off and go on with your life.

But I can’t shrug her off. Something visceral inside of me awakens, and all it wants to do is rip her head off and cry out in victory.

“How dare you try to steal my boyfriend,” Kennedy says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She’s taller than I am, and maybe even stronger thanks to cheerleading. But I grab onto the beast inside of me, the tiny little piece of self-esteem that’s been hiding way too long.

This is wrong, and probably not in the spirit of an after-school-special movie, but it’s going to feel great.

I saunter over to Ethan and slide my hands up his chest, linking them behind his neck. His eyes startle, their darkness showing something surprised and elated at the same time.

I lean up on my toes and kiss him on the cheek. “You’re right, Kennedy. I did steal your boyfriend. But don’t act like it was hard or anything,” I say, mocking her stupid flirty pout expression. “You made it so easy I didn’t even have to try.”

The look on Kennedy’s face is pure gold. Pure, uncontrolled satisfaction floods through my veins, making me feel like freaking Cleopatra in all of her glory. I’m so high on throwing a bitch move right back at the Head of Bitches herself, that I barely notice when Ethan slides his hand around my waist and pulls me against his chest in an act of solidarity.

Kennedy glares at Ethan. “Don’t ever call me insane again,” she hisses. She points at the two of us. “I called this. I’m not some kind of crazy ex-girlfriend, Ethan. I knew it would happen and I called it. Kiss your popularity goodbye. I’ll have the entire school against you by tomorrow.”

I heave a heavy, dramatic sigh. “You should probably go before we start making out.”

Anger flashes behind her eyes and then she launches toward me, her fist aiming straight for my face.

Ethan holds me back but I twist out of his grip. I’m not about to let her hit me, but I also won’t hit the princess back. God only knows what drama that would cause. As if seeing it all in slow motion, I grab her fist before it collides with my face. Stepping backward, I pull her down, using her own momentum to throw her straight to the concrete.

I jump back as she hits the ground and she lets out a flurry of curse words.

The high-pitched tapping of Mrs. Poe’s heels on the sidewalk catch my attention. She’s holding her cell phone.

“Kennedy, dear, you need to leave. Otherwise I’ll have the police escort you back home.”

Kennedy scrambles to her feet, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Did you see what she did to me?”

Mrs. Poe nods. “I saw Ella act in self-defense. Now leave please. You’re no longer welcome at my home.”

The fiasco ends as quickly as it began, but I think Ethan and I both know this won’t be the end of dealing with her.

“I’m so sorry about that,” I tell Mrs. Poe as we follow her inside. My stomach flips over as I wonder about what exactly she saw. Did she see me kiss her son? See my arms around him, taunting his ex? Oh god. This is mortifying.

“Don’t worry about it, Ella.” Mrs. Poe gives us a side-eyed grin as she sets her phone on an end table near the couch. “I’ve been waiting for someone to put that girl in her place. She never had any manners over here.”

Ethan grabs my hand and pulls me into the privacy of the stairs, walking halfway up them until we’re hidden by the walls. He’s breathing quickly, his eyes bursting with excitement.

“That was so freaking hot,” he whispers. “I will forever be happy when I picture you putting her in her place.” His hands grab my hips and he takes a step down until we’re eye-to-eye. My body is on fire where he touches me, and the knot in my stomach turns into a nervous flutter that I never want to lose. He drops his forehead to mine. “Was that just an act?”

I shrug. “Well . . . yeah.”

His shoulders fall and his grip on me loosens. I press forward, leaning into him until his back is against the wall. My fingers crawl up his chest and I grin. “But it was fun pretending,” I whisper.

“You’re killing me,” he says, his voice breathy.

“Kids, do ya’ll want pizza for dinner?” Mrs. Poe’s voice makes us rocket away from each other as if we’d both just become infectious. “Yeah,” Ethan croaks. “Yeah, we like pizza.”

My eyes crinkle as I hold back laughter. “This is going to be fun,” I tell him. Then I turn and jog up the stairs, leaving him soaking in all of that sexual tension we’d left behind. 

I meet Ella’s eyes across the dinner table. The look on her face—polite yet a little disturbed—makes me grin. We should have known better than to think that Mom meant
real
pizza when she asked if we wanted pizza for dinner.

“This is really great,” Mrs. Lockhart says, taking a bite of Mom’s homemade health food. It is round, with vegan cheese and something resembling a crust, but it’s not pizza. You can’t call this pizza, no matter how you dress it up.

“Thanks, Samantha,” Mom says, looking positively smitten with the compliment. “It’s cauliflower crust, but it tastes amazing, right?”

I sputter, holding the mouthful of fake pizza in my mouth. “Cauliflower?” I mumble with my mouth full. Ella giggles.

Mom waves a hand at me. “Just eat it. Your sister’s not complaining and neither is Ella.”

“I think it’s awesome,” Ella says, completely sucking up to my mother. She’s gone rogue, I see.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” I say, sticking out my tongue.

Her cheeks flush and she rolls her eyes.

I’m the only man at the table tonight. Dad is taking an international conference call in his home office and Ella’s dad is working a forty-eight-hour shift at the station. So it’s just me, Mom and Dakota with Ella and her mom at the dinner table.

Ella taps my foot under the table. “I am on your side, you dork. It’s still good pizza.”

Mrs. Lockhart peers at me over the rim of her wine glass. “Is there something going on with you two?”

Ella chokes on the fake pizza. “God, Mom. No.”

My own mom makes that grin like when she’s talking about our birthday presents in a sneaky way so we won’t find out what they are. “You just got home, so you haven’t even heard about the drama yet,” Mom tells her.

Dakota looks up from her cell phone. We may eat dinner together as a family, but my parents quit complaining about her phone a long time ago. I guess they’ll take what they can get and having their kids at the table is good enough for them.

“What kind of drama?” my sister says. She looks from Ella to me. “Wait, are you two dating?”

“No,” I say quickly, but like a normal person.

“No!” Ella sputters, holding up both hands as if someone’s got a gun aimed at her. “No, nothing is going on. Can we please not talk about it at the dinner table?”

Mom gives me a knowing look and it’s kind of awkward. It’s almost like she knows exactly how much I care about Ella, and the idea of Mom being privy to my private thoughts makes me shudder.

Mrs. Lockhart laughs. “Okay, now I have to know.” She looks at my mom. “Did you catch them making out? We always knew it’d happen eventually.”

“Even better,” Mom says. I put a palm to my forehead. No point in trying to stop it. “I heard yelling outside and walked out in time to witness Ethan’s ex-girlfriend throw a punch at Ella.”

Mrs. Lockhart drops her wine glass and it wobbles on the table but doesn’t fall over.

“Someone punched you?” she says, grabbing her daughter by the face and turning her head around to check for damage.

Ella wriggles out of her grip. “No, I blocked it.”

“It was awesome,” I say. Now that it’s all out in the open, a weight feels lifted from my shoulders. I can’t help it when I explain the entire story to them, leaving out only the small detail about Ella throwing herself on me and declaring herself my girlfriend. The moms watch me with interest and Dakota smirks the whole time, having found something finally more interesting than staring at her phone.

“Wow,” Mrs. Lockhart says when my story is over. She pours herself and my mom another glass of wine. “That’s kind of badass. I’m proud of you, El.”

Ella folds her fake pizza in half and takes a bite. “Just another day in my kickass life,” she says. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll humiliate the quarterback of the football team.”

“That’s me,” I say, tossing a forgotten wine cork at her.

Ella snorts, dodging my friendly fire. “Ops, I had no idea.”

“Really?” I lift an eyebrow. “It’s kind of the most important position on the team . . .”

She holds up her hands. “Hey, I just steal football boyfriends—I don’t stalk them.”

*

Ella offers to do the arduous task of searching for a decent movie to watch on Netflix, and I take a quick shower before joining her in the rec room. I’d showered after gym today, but being around Ella earlier had wreaked havoc on my armpits. I need to smell nice if I’m going to cuddle up with her on the couch all night.

I hold back a grin while I get dressed. This might be the best Friday night ever. Plus, my phone’s only missed call in the last three hours was from Toby. He wanted to hit up a party but I told him I was busy. He didn’t ask about my plans and I was grateful. I’m not exactly ready to tell everyone about Ella yet. Especially since I have no idea
what
we are right now.

Friends, yes. But something more is lingering on the horizon and it can’t be overlooked. Even our family has noticed.

I tap on the rec room’s doorframe. Ella’s curled up in a fuzzy blanket in the middle of the couch and she looks back at me, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest. I want her to invite me in, if only to hear her say she wants to be closer to me.

“Guess I was hoping for another wet towel show,” she says, poking out her bottom lip. “But fully clothed Ethan is okay, I guess.”

I throw a thumb over my shoulder. “I can go change if you’d like. Slip into a towel for you.”

She shrugs. “Nah, it wasn’t that great of a view anyway.”

This girl will be the death of me. “Can I come in?”

She stands up, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders like a cape. Her face squishes up while she studies me from head to toe. “I guess. I mean I have nothing better to do . . .”

She looks a little surprised when I close the door behind me but she doesn’t tell me to keep it open. Even though I want to grab her in a hug and feel her body against mine, I walk right past her and sit on the couch.  Two can play this teasing each other game.

She drops down right next to me, in the middle seat. Already this is going better than the last time we were in here alone. “Okay, so, there’s not many movie options tonight. I was thinking maybe we start a new TV show.” She looks over at me expectantly. “It could be our thing. We can pick one with a lot of episodes and watch them all over time.”

“That works for me. I’m all about finding more ways to spend time with you.”

Her chest rises as she draws in a deep breath, her lips puckering into a smile. She swallows. “We’re gonna end up making out, aren’t we?”

The timid look in her eyes makes my head spin. My heart struggles with my head in what I should say that won’t scare her away. “We don’t have to.” And I mean it, I do, but I know disappointment seeps through my voice.

She leans over and runs her fingers across mine. I turn my palm up and her hand slips into mine. “I want to,” she says. “I don’t know
why
exactly, but I want to.”

I take her cheek in my hand and tilt her lips up to mine. This kiss is different. It’ sweet and longing, soft and pressing.

She leans into me, crawling into my lap. I welcome her with open arms and I take her blanket and pull it over both of us. She smells like flowers again, and I breathe her in deeply, like I might never get to be this close again.

“This is fun,” she murmurs against my lips.

“Mmhmm,” I mumble back, kissing her open mouth. I slide my tongue across her lips and she shudders in my grasp. It is the cutest thing ever. We melt into each other, kissing like we’ve been doing this forever. Like I already know every inch of this girl. She’s still the same girl I’ve loved my whole life. We’re just a little more complicated.

Some TV show plays on the flat screen, the glow reflecting off her creamy skin. We slide down the couch until we’re lying side by side, feet intertwined and hands tangled up in each other.

I run my hands through her hair and kiss her hard, our tongues tasting each other.

“This is the best day ever,” I whisper against her neck.

She crawls on top of me, resting her elbows on my chest while she peers into my eyes. Something sad flickers across her features and I run my hands up her back. “What’s wrong?”

She wets her lips. “I don’t know how to stop hating you,” she says softly.

“What does that mean?” She’s on top of me, her boobs pressing against my chest, her lips just inches from mine. I taste her lip gloss. How can she still hate me?

She shakes her head. “I guess I hated you so long, it’s hard to come down from that. Like, one minute, I want you really bad. The next, I’ll look at you and remember all the years of hating you. I used to get physically sick if I saw you in the hallway at school.”

My heart drops to my stomach. I brush her hair out of her eyes. “Ella, I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to hurt like that.”

She lays her head on my chest and wraps her arms around me. “I know. I don’t hate you anymore. It’s just hard. This feels right and wrong at the same time. Does that make sense?”

I stroke her arm and watch the steady rise and fall of her head on my chest. “Yeah, I get it. It is a little weird.”

“I just—how can we know this is real? Seems like we’re making out just because we can.”

I must take too long to reply because she looks up at me, fear stitched across her face. “Are we something? Or is this—nothing? I mean, I’m fine either way.”

I chuckle and kiss her forehead. “I don’t think you’d be fine either way. I wouldn’t.”

“So what does that mean?”

I’ve always loved you.

The words lodge in my throat so I think of a safer thing to say. “Maybe we should take it slower. We started as friends on Monday and by Friday we’re hooking up on the couch. Maybe. . . and it kills me to say this, but maybe we should slow down?”

Ella shakes her head. “I don’t want to slow down. You know how long I wanted for you to like me back?” She grins and it’s a huge turn on.

“So then what are we?” I ask.

She presses her lips to the space below my collarbone. “We’re us.”