One and Done (Two Outta Three #2) (3 page)

Rocky’s mouth dropped open. She glanced over at our teacher and frowned. “Remind me again why I invited you here?”

I smirked. “Is someone jealous?”

Rocky’s cheeks burned brightly. In a clipped tone, she replied, “I just think you should be a little bit more careful about your…your…”

“My what?”

“Never mind. I never did understand your shenanigans.”

Just like that, all humor left me. “That’s not what…oh, forget it.”

Probably sensing us talking about her, Miss McMillan walked toward me and extended a pale, slim hand. “Hello, you’re new here.”

“Guess so.” I shook her hand lightly, fearing that if I squeezed tight I’d break her seemingly frail bones.

She nodded and smiled. “I’m Miss McMillan. And you are?”

“Jesse.”

“Do you draw? Sculpt? Paint?” Her eyes darted over to Rocky. “Or are you just a lovesick boyfriend who can’t stand spending time away from your true love?”

Rocky and I stiffened simultaneously.

“I didn’t realize I was in drama class,” I joked uncomfortably.

Miss McMillan’s wild eyes bounced between the two of us. Smiling sheepishly, she bowed her head in apology. “I guess that was a bit inappropriate.”

“You think?” I grunted.

“So…um, Jesse was it?”

I nodded in annoyance. Just like that, the sexy art school teacher fantasy crumbled at my feet.

“What are you here for?”

“I was told you needed models.” I shrugged my shoulders, feeling even more stupid than I had before. It didn’t help that the same bougie kids started snickering beside us. Once again I felt the familiar twitch in my fist, only this time it was accompanied by a bit of soreness.

Damn that Dwight and his hard face.

Miss McMillan sighed quietly. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved. We have a pretty introverted bunch here who don’t take to new kids nicely, and it’s been quite hard to get some new blood in here. Nice going, Rocky.”

Rocky blinked in embarrassment. “Uh, yeah.”

Our teacher grinned and clapped her hands loudly, startling everyone in the room. “Looks like we have a new model joining us!” Pausing to run her gaze over my face, she smiled. “And by the look of that jaw, whew! You ladies are going to have good practice drawing classic Grecian features.”

I don’t blush. I promise I don’t. At least not usually.

“So…Jesse, was it?” Miss McMillan mused as she walked over to the corner of the classroom and grabbed a wooden barstool, subsequently dragging it to the middle of the classroom. “Why don’t you take a seat in the center of the room and we’ll begin.”

“Sit there?” I practically screeched.

She nodded with a smile.

“Right in the middle of the classroom?” I glanced over at Rocky, who shot me a teasing grin.

“Ugh, you can’t be serious,” a nasally male voice called from beside me. I turned and spotted a pale face covered in painful looking zits.

“Patrick, do you have anything to say?” Our teacher turned at her waist and crossed her arms over her chest. The act exaggerated her cleavage, causing every male in the room to ogle in wonder. Though the sight didn’t hold the same weight for me as Rocky’s cute bra did, I couldn’t help but look.

Rocky’s elbow dug into my side. “Stop staring. That’s rude.”

“I’m a teenage male. It’s biology,” I hissed.

Patrick scowled and replied, “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’d rather not draw this guy. Can’t I stick with a still-life or something? A bunch of eggs and vases seem much more interesting to me than a pop star wannabe.”

Miss McMillan eyebrows furrowed. “I’m pretty sure Jesse is much more interesting than three hardboiled eggs.”

“I beg to differ,” he mumbled.

Okay, the next moment may not have been my proudest, but hey I couldn’t help myself. After dealing with Dwight and a bunch of pretentious rich kids, I was on the verge of snapping.

Sneering at the pizza-faced motherfucker, I grabbed at my crotch and shook it around. “I may not have eggs, but at least I have these nuts.”

“Jesse!” Rocky gasped beside me.

Miss McMillan rolled her eyes. “Are you sure we’re not in drama?”

Looking as if he had swallowed rotten fish, Patrick argued, “Why can’t someone like Rocky do the modeling instead of this freak? I don’t want to spend an hour staring at a dude. I’d rather appreciate the female form.”

Okay, Mr. In-Desperate-Need-Of-Zit-Medication just landed on my shit list for more reasons than one. He wasn’t going to spend an hour staring at any female form, let alone hers. Snapping my head around, I glared at him, picturing what it would be like to torture him a bit. Maybe Stephanie was onto something with that weird fanfiction of hers.

Miss McMillan quickly stepped in between us both, blocking my line of sight. “Da Vinci, Raphael, Picasso—do you think any of them minded staring at a ‘dude’ for more than an hour at a time?”

“Michelangelo did have to detail David’s dick,” another student pointed out.

“What do you say, Patrick? Care to emulate the masters?” Throwing my binder onto the floor, I proceeded to rip off my jacket, eliciting shocked gasps from around the room. “It’s really no problem. I have no qualms being naked.”

Rocky reached over and pinched me in my side. “Stop it.”

“What?” I asked innocently, spotting the familiar burn of her face. I had meant to get under Patrick’s skin, but seeing how worked up Rocky became felt just as good. I grinned triumphantly.

Miss McMillan straightened her glasses and glanced around. Realizing that she was about to lose full control of the class, she pulled out a nearby chair and readily hopped on. Placing two fingers in her mouth, she let out an ear-piercing whistle. We froze on the spot. “Quiet, everybody! Now listen up. As much as I don’t appreciate Patrick’s sexist comments, he does bring up a good point. Maybe we can use a female model for variety. Rocky, you okay with that?”

Rocky’s cheeks flushed as her head whipped around. “No. No. No. No.”

I elbowed her in the ribs. “We get it.”

“Shut up,” she whispered. Her face curled up into a little pout, and all at once my resolve came crashing down. She loved this class and here I was ruining it for her, just like I always destroyed everything I touched.

Shutting my eyes, I shook my head, suddenly feeling numb. “You know what? Maybe this was a bad idea.”

Rocky threw me a look of warning. “Jesse. I know what you’re thinking, and no. You need this club to stay in school.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do, then? I can’t draw or paint and apparently I can’t model either.” I threw a snide look at Patrick, who immediately looked away.

That’s right, pussy.

I was about to stand up to grab my things when I heard a raspy voice croon, “I want you to model for me, Jesse.”

I looked up in surprise and spotted Sarah Jacobs eyeing me like a hawk. I had no idea she was into art, let alone a member of the club. It wasn’t as if I kept tabs on her or anything, though it was hard not to know about her. It was no secret around school that the girl…uh…got around.

Rocky stiffened and shifted uncomfortably. “Are you sure you can’t draw?”

“Uh, I wasn’t really expecting a private modeling session,” I admitted, trying to remain collected.

Miss McMillan frowned. “I wasn’t suggesting anything of the sort. Can’t get in trouble with the school board now, can we?”

I smirked and snuck a peek at Rocky, who looked as if she was silently fuming. This was certainly not what I expected when I agreed to join the club, but like Mr. Elliott had warned me, I really had no choice. Eyeing the paint stained barstool, I pushed myself up from my desk and begrudgingly stalked my way to the center of the room. “If Pizza Face over here doesn’t want to draw me, it doesn’t mean nobody else does, right?”

“Right,” Sarah cooed seductively.

Patrick groaned, causing another surge of irritation to run rampant through my veins. I gritted my teeth and sat down, making sure I was facing his direction. Purposely, I unbuttoned the top of my Henley and smiled seductively. “Give it your best, Pizza Boy.”

“Look over here, Jess,” Sarah called out to me.

My head snapped around automatically at the sound of my name. My eyes widened when I realized Sarah had stripped off whatever weird army jacket she was wearing, revealing a very thin camisole. Keeping her eyes on mine, she ran her tongue around her lips and shot me a wink.

Seriously?

Rocky cleared her throat loudly. “Jesse, can you face me? I want to get you at another angle.”

I couldn’t help but smile at Rocky’s tone. It was shy, angry, and somewhat territorial. Without hesitation, I turned around and faced my friend.

“Hey! Now I can’t see him!” Sarah protested.

I drowned her out and remained focused on Rocky’s big eyes. Though her drawing board blocked the rest of her face, I would bet any amount of money that she was sporting the usual blush that I had grown to love so much. Whenever I looked at her, it was as if it were just us two in the room—perhaps the world. Soon the other students became nothing but white noise in the background.

Chapter 3

“Mom, I’m home!” I shouted, not knowing why I insisted on announcing my arrival every day after school. Maybe it was to give my mom the chance to hide whatever brand of whiskey she was chugging down her throat, or maybe it was even for the slight possibility of hearing her ask me how my day went. Yeah, I knew the latter would never happen.

“Mom?”

I groaned when the aroma of tequila hit my nose. She only hit the Jose Cuervo bottle on particularly bad days.

“About time you showed up!” she snarled.

Yup, definitely a bad day.

I followed the raspy voice to our den and groaned when I spotted my mother lighting up another cigarette. A filthy kitchen bowl sat on the table beside her, filled to the brim with ash and cigarette butts.

I shifted uneasily and tried my hardest to ignore everything around me. I ignored the stack of newspapers that littered the ground. I ignored the empty bottle at her feet. I even ignored the two empty cigarette boxes thrown onto our stained couch. At least I tried to, anyway.

“You know, it’s really dangerous smoking near paper. You trying to burn this place down?” I growled, snatching up the mess to throw away.

“You better watch your mouth, boy. You’ve been a pain in my ass since the day I peed on that pregnancy stick, and I don’t need your smartass telling me what to do.” She took another drag of her cigarette and eyed me disgustedly. “I’m your mother, remember?”

“Then why don’t you act like it for once?” I snapped back as I walked toward the kitchen. A sudden crash caused me to whirl around. Tiny bell-like whistles echoed as glass and ceramic pieces littered the hardwood floor. “What the fuck?”

Mom jumped from her seat, and in superhero fashion, rushed toward me with her fist in the air.

Bam.

Another sucker punch to the face.

Though this particular punch didn’t hold the same physical power as Dwight’s had, this one hurt more. A lot more.

I winced as the familiar swirl of sadness and anger pooled inside my stomach. Mom stumbled a bit, but was obviously fuming. Her chest rose and fell as if struggling to capture what little breath she had left. God knew the only thing in her lungs was black ash.

“You better watch that mouth, you stupid fuck!” she exclaimed, gasping for air. “You’d be in the gutter dead if I wasn’t here watching your dumb ass.” She lurched toward the side, nearly knocking into our china cabinet. A vindictive part of me yearned to see her smack her face into the glass, but of course I wouldn’t let that happen. My arm shot out, catching her before she face planted. Unfortunately, instead of thanking me, she looked up and scowled. “Get your filthy hands off of me, boy! I don’t need your help.”

“What the fuck is your problem? I do nothing but take care of you and…love you. Why are you always attacking me?”

“We never wanted kids, then suddenly you showed up.” The tone of her voice was low and eerie. It reminded me of a killer taunting his victim before he lashed out. Prying her arm from my hold, she managed to hobble toward her beer-stained recliner and plop down.

“It’s called protection, Mom…or in your case, maybe you should have just abstained,” I growled.

She huffed. “You’ve always been a fucking thorn in my side. You ever wonder why your father left us? Because of you!”

I bit my tongue, fighting the urge to remind her that it wasn’t me who was drugged out every single hour of the day, nor was it me who drained our savings on whiskey and pills. Dad left because Mom chose the bottle over him, but she’d never understand that.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm myself, I narrowed my eyes and ground out, “Why didn’t you just end the pregnancy then? If I came as such a shock, you should have just walked over to that free clinic and been done with me.”

She looked me dead in the eyes. “I wish I had.”

Cue another punch in the gut. I stood there, dumbfounded, not knowing how to respond.

After a beat, Mom broke the silence and shoved something into my chest. “Here. From your father.” She said the word ‘father’ as if she was speaking of mice or some other vermin.

“Is this what I think it is?” I looked down and grabbed onto the blue envelope.

“Hell if I know. Probably another one of his ‘meaningful cards.’ Is it your birthday or something?”

Of course my own mother wouldn’t know my birthday.

“No.” I pursed my lips.

“Well, I wouldn’t bet it’s a love letter.” She snickered. “Who would love you?”

“Is anybody home?” Rocky’s voice called out from the foyer. I must have left the door open somehow. Once again, her timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

I turned back to my mother and smirked. “Somebody.”

Letting out a loud snort, Mom scowled. “It’ll only be a matter of time until she realizes what trash you are. Give it some time. You’ll drag her down into your scum soon enough.”

***

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” Rocky’s eyes darted around nervously. She pushed aside her art bag and drawing board before plopping down on my mattress. “I sort of feel like I’m intruding.”

Intruding on my bed?

I gulped. “You know you’re always welcome here.”

Always.

“But your mom…”

“Is none of our concern.” I waved the blue envelope in the air and sighed. Every few months my dad would send a greeting card stuffed with money. It would always end with the same line: Call me.

I never did.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Rocky’s tone was hushed.

“Nah, I already know what it is. What’s the point?”

“The point is that I don’t know what it is, and I’m really curious!” She leaned over and tried to snatch it away, but I was too quick for her.

Laughing, I shrugged and flicked at the corner of the envelope. “It’s just a card with money in it. Nothing special.”

“Nothing special?” she gaped, twisting her fingers together. “I wish I had free money. You know how many art supplies I’d buy with that?”

“Here. Take it then,” I replied, tossing the envelope onto her lap.

Looking appalled, she picked it up and chucked it back toward me. “I don’t want your money! Makes me feel like a prostitute or something.”

“You’d have to be paid to sleep with me before that happens.” My laugh died down when I realized how inappropriate the joke was, especially given the look of horror on Rocky’s face. She leaned back into my wall and grabbed my pillow, pulling awkwardly at a loose piece of thread as she tried to avoid my eyes. “Yeah, that was kinda messed up. Sorry?”

She shrugged and didn’t say a word, though judging by the crease in her forehead and narrowing of her eyes she was deep in thought.

Averting my gaze, I glanced back down at the envelope and frowned. Maybe if I wished hard enough, the words, ‘I made a mistake and I’m coming home’ would be written on the card instead of the usual ‘call me.’ Of course that wouldn’t happen. We’d never have another chance to be a family again—not that we ever were a family to begin with.

“Rocky?” I swallowed hard. “How’s it like?”

“How’s what like?” Her eyes finally found mine, peering at me curiously.

“Having a family,” I whispered. “You know…a normal one.”

Her face softened. “I’d hardly say we were normal. A rebellious sister, about thirty cousins, and a dad that dresses like a clown in TV commercials—yup, we’re a regular Leave It to Beaver.”

“No, I mean…” I shook my head. “Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.”

“What? What is it?” She leaned forward and placed her fingertips lightly on my thigh, causing a jolt of electricity to travel up and down my skin. “You know you can ask me anything.”

My gaze traveled from her hot pink colored nails up her arm and back to her face. I gulped. “How’s it like knowing they have your back?”

“You have that…” her voice trailed off.

“You must be thinking about someone else, because that is something I definitely do not have.”

Her top teeth raked across her bottom lip, scraping off the remnants of her shiny lip gloss. “Jesse, you and I are family…” Her eyes widened. “I-I mean not like brother and sister or anything like that…I mean.”

I held back a laugh, though truthfully I was relieved she didn’t think of me that way. I grabbed at my neck and grimaced. “No offense, but you live in your happy little bubble without realizing how the other half lives, you know? You don’t know what it’s like to be me.”

“I’m not a rich snob, Jesse,” she replied with disapproval.

I smirked. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“Well, you’re loved and protected.”

And you always will be. That’s why I’ll never be with you. I’d just push you away for good.

“Jesse, stop being so melodramatic. You’re loved too…” She looked toward my door and grimaced, undoubtedly thinking about my mother. “Look, I care about you. Steph cares about you. You’re not as alone as you think.”

My shoulders slumped forward. Taking a deep breath, I gestured toward the gigantic slab of wood perched against my bed frame. “Why’d you bring your drawing board? Didn’t get your fill of drawing this handsome face in class?”

She snickered and shook her head. “I actually have a project to do for AP Art, and seeing that you kept getting distracted by Miss McMillan’s knockers—”

“Hey!” I gasped.

“—I figured if I got you alone, I could finally position you the way I wanted.”

Oh, she walked right into that one.

I wagged my eyebrows suggestively. “And what position would that be? Top or bottom?”

Her mouth dropped right open. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m only teasing.” Too bad my dick didn’t feel the same way. As discreetly as I could, I grabbed at a nearby pillow and positioned it onto my lap.

Rocky’s face was burning bright. “Um, what I do mean is that I want to get an exact expression on your face. Earlier you kinda sat around like this…” She dropped her arms by her sides, slumped her shoulders forward, widened her eyes, and slacked her jaw. “Uh, duhhhhh.”

Laughing, I jokingly punched her in the shoulder. “I did not!”

She giggled back—a sound I loved to hear—and grinned. “Seriously, I want you to look…”

“Like what?”

“Like how you always do when you’re with me.”

Completely in love with you?

“And how’s that?” I gulped.

She sighed and scratched her head. “I don’t really know how to describe it…I guess…not like before?”

“Care to embellish?” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Basically, I want you to look like you’re not lusting over somebody’s boobs.”

“And whose boobs are we talking about?” I choked out. “Miss McMillan’s or Sarah’s?”

Her mouth dropped open. “See! I knew it!

“Oh, come on, Rocky. I was only looking at you in class.”

She blinked quickly. “You were?”

“Well, yeah.” I looked down at my sneakers and shrugged. “You’re the only one I feel comfortable with.”

“Or the only one you can’t imagine sleeping with,” she muttered. Though she tried to play it off as a joke, I knew there was an insult hidden somewhere in there.

I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “Okay, fine. You want to draw me? Let’s do this.” I stood up and grabbed my desk chair, spinning it around until I was facing her. “Draw me like one of your—”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed her drawing board, hiking it onto the top of her thighs. She crossed her legs, causing the hole in her jeans to become stretched out, exposing her olive legs. “Just be your usual self.”

“Devastatingly handsome?” I joked, unable to look away from her bare skin.

“Excruciatingly stupid.”

I smirked. “You better make me beautiful.”

“You already are, Princess.” She giggled.

The low hum of the radio was the only sound in the room. Mom must have dozed off into another one of her drunken comas, leaving the house deathly quiet. I yawned and struggled to remain upright, watching Rocky’s face contort into pure concentration. It was amazing that she couldn’t see the power she had over me. Then again, it was something I tried my best to hide. My gaze flickered down to her cheek where a loose tendril of hair rested, and I desperately wanted to push it away so I could see her fully. Of course I didn’t.

It killed me that Rocky and I could never be together, but that’s what true love was about, right? Sacrifice. There was no way I could invite this loving, family-oriented angel into my dysfunctional and broken world. I needed to save her from a lifetime doomed with my torture…yet, was I that strong? When I found out Dwight had asked her out, it was like another sucker punch to the face. Imagining her with another man’s arm wrapped around her waist, slow dancing to a John Legend tune and kissing under the corny disco ball of the dance, did things to my insides that I’m not too proud of.