Very Bad Things (17 page)

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend, Sebastian. Just a good
time. And, I don’t need a guard dog,” I said in a huff.

Outside, I heard someone yelling my name and turned to see a
group of senior girls I knew from the yearbook staff. Not seeing Emma or April
in their vicinity, I left a sullen Sebastian standing there and walked over.

I joined their group and in fake-girl fashion, they
proceeded to tell me how fabulous my hair was and how they adored my dress and
shoes. When in reality, they probably thought my dress was hideous and my hair
trashy. Every Parkie girl grows up knowing that if you want to fit in, you
gotta smile and lie your ass off. Yet the alcohol must have kicked in, because
I half-way believed what they said.

One of them asked, “Why did you go off at registration?”

“Oh, you know, I just wanted to be a rebel and rock the
system a little,” I replied, pumping my fist in the air. Total lie.

“Well, it made an impression on someone in particular,” she
said, cutting her glance toward a group of guys. When I looked confused, she
elaborated by whispering to me, “Matt Dawson. I heard him asking around if you
were coming tonight.”

I looked back at the guys and, sure enough, BA’s quarterback
was staring at me with open admiration as he sauntered in our direction.

“Did he and Emma break up?”

“Yep, right after you told Emma about April which was
hilarious, by the way. She wants him back, of course, I mean, who wouldn’t. He
is
the quarterback.”

Matt strolled with confidence over to us like the player he
was, and the closer he got, I could see why all the girls chased him. With
those velvety brown eyes and sexy grin, he was a heartbreaker.

“Hey, Nora, you wanna dance?” he said, putting his arm
around me. The smell of sweat and alcohol assailed my nose and the word
no
was on the tip of my tongue, but then I remembered Leo and how he had Tiffany.

“Sure. Come on,” I said, inviting the other girls out with
us, not quite ready to be alone with him. I’d just walked away from Cuba. Was I
ready to jump right back in?

The DJ was playing some old school Beastie Boys, and we
danced on the makeshift dance floor Emma had set up, complete with blinking
strobe lights and colored twinkling lights hanging from the trees that
surrounded the pool. We stayed out there for almost an hour dancing, and Matt
never took his hooded eyes off me. It verged on creepy.

When a slow song finally came on, he grabbed my hips and
pulled me close. I wrapped my arms around his neck and saw Sebastian staring at
me while he danced with a girl from BA. I forgot my earlier irritation and gave
him a cocky grin, waiting on his leer, but he didn’t tease back. He looked at
me hard, like he was mad, and then twirled his partner around until his back
was to me.

What the hell? Did both of the Tate boys need meds for
their mercurial moods?

“Sebastian says you’re in a band with him? Girls in bands
are hot,” Matt said in my ear, steering me away from the dance floor and over
to a grove of trees near the side of the house. I tried to lead him back to the
dance floor, but he stumbled and crushed my toes. I gave in and let him lead.

“Um, I’m not actually in the band. There’s a friend in the
band I’m helping learn some new music. That’s all,” I told him absently,
looking around the deserted yard, pissed at myself for letting him maneuver me
out here. “Hey, don’t you think we should go back to the patio. I can barely
hear the music out here.”

He grinned. “I’ll sing for you,” he said and started moaning
the words to Marvin Gaye’s song “Let’s Get It On” in my ear. Seriously. Matt
was lame.

I rolled my eyes and said the first thing that came to mind.
“Aren’t you mad at me for ratting on you about April?”

“No,” he murmured, leaning down to lick a spot near my ear.
I stiffened and shifted, trying to avoid him.

The song ended, and I was almost twitching with the need to
get away from him. Not only was he coming on too strong, but he reeked of beer.

“Let’s stay here,” he demanded, pushing me up against a tree,
making me feel claustrophobic.

“I need another drink first,” I squeaked out, jerking back
from him and breathing heavily. A prickle of fear rippled over my body.

He captured my arm and pulled me back, pinning me tighter
against the tree. He rocked his hips into mine and leaned down to kiss my neck
as I struggled to slide away, but he’d locked his arms, holding me hostage.

“Let me go,” I wheezed, fighting against his restraint, but
I wasn’t strong enough. I’d never been strong enough. I twisted in his arms,
the effort making me pant. Dark and vicious memories filtered into my head,
reminding me how I’d given in before. How no one would ever love me if they
knew.

I would
die
before I let new memories in.

He grinned, ignoring me. “Chill out. I know your type. All
nice and quiet, but freaky underneath that up-tight exterior.” He tried to kiss
me on the lips, but I spun my face away, and he laughed. “You wanna play hard
to get?” he murmured, his hand reaching up to hold my face still.

I spat in his face and glared at him, welcoming the fury
that now coursed through my body, overtaking the fear and refusing to let this
happen to me.

He blinked and reached up to wipe away the spit, giving me
just enough room to raise my leg and knee him hard in the crotch. He yelped out
and collapsed to the ground with his legs bent up around his waist.

“What the hell, Nora?” he gasped out. “I wasn’t gonna do
anything! I was just playing around!”

My entire body shook. My hands, my arms, my legs, and even
my face felt like it was vibrating. I wanted to jump on his prone body and tear
him to bits; I wanted to take my fists and slam them down over and over against
his face; I wanted to make him hurt like I’d been hurt so many times. Instead,
I bent over, closed my eyes and dragged in deep gulps of air.

He moaned and sat up, peering up at me with rage. I didn’t
care. My rage was bigger than his. “If you ever come near me again, I will
fucking kill you. Do you understand me? I’m not afraid of you,” I bit out.

I’d faced worse evil than quarterback Matt Dawson.

I left him there and ran for the patio, anxious to leave
this house that reminded me too much of my own. I found Mila by the pool,
surrounded by friends. I tried to explain why I was ready to go without saying
too much when she announced, “Trouble at two o’clock. Evil bitch and copycat
cohort arriving in three, two, one . . . annnd . . .they’re here.”

Emma and April planted themselves in front of me.
Shit.
When would this night be over?

Getting straight to it, Emma pointed her finger in my face.
“Did you think I wouldn’t see you dancing with my boyfriend?”

I laughed at the absurdity of it all. “No one wants your
boyfriend but you. Oh, and April here,” I smirked.

“You broke us up, skank! You lied about him and April. Matt
and I have been together for years, and no freak-of-nature brainiac is going to
take him away from me,” she snapped.

I shook my head in disgust. I never wanted to be near Matt
Dawson again. I just wanted to leave this fucked-up party and never come back
to this house.

“What? Nothing to say to me, Nora?” Emma said and nudged
April, “Look, the bee girl is out of words.”

Something about Emma truly frightened me. Always had. Maybe
that was part of the reason I’d always let her push me around. And as I stared
at her, I realized
why
. She reminded me of Mother with her skillful
sarcasm and scathing cut-downs. Both of them were snakes, cold-blooded and
masters at spotting weaknesses in opponents, which they’d use to plan nasty
attacks.

Suddenly Mila jumped in front of me, bless her heart. “Leave
us alone, Emma,” she told the viper. “Matt asked her to dance.”

Emma chortled. “Is sweet Miss Priss taking up for the geek?”
she sneered, pushing her fingers into Mila’s chest until Mila staggered back
and fell into a chair. Emma tossed her full cup of beer into Mila’s face and
turned back to me, her eyes like death rays. “Boyfriend-stealing sluts are not
allowed at my party, so leave.”

My adrenaline from my skirmish with Matt rose back up to the
surface. I’d had enough. Enough of guys putting me second, enough of people
pushing me around and telling me what to do, and enough of trying to please
them all. None of them knew the real me, the one that carried a six-inch knife.

Plus, she’d just poured beer all over the sweetest person I
knew.

“Emma, do you know what your problem is?”

Emma twisted her lips. “I don’t care what you think, bitch.”

“You’re a mean person, and these people here aren’t really
your friends,” I said. “Oh, they’ll kiss up to you because they want to be
popular, but behind your back, they talk about that mole on your cheek that
looks like a zit or how big your ass is in that mini skirt.”

She grinned evilly. “Everyone wants to be me, Nora. I’m not
just a cheerleader; I’m
the
cheerleader at BA. I’ll always be the
popular girl. And you won’t.”

I cut my eyes at her bestie. “Why are you still friends with
April? Guess you gotta keep your enemies close, huh? Making sure she doesn’t
sleep with Matt again?” I said, purposely pushing the one button I knew set her
off.

Her face turned a bright cardinal red. She cursed and shoved
me hard, making me stumble and crash to the concrete on my bottom. My elbows
caught most of my fall, and when I glanced at them, blood was dripping down my
arms. I tried to get up, but she kicked me in the stomach before I could roll
away from her heels. I managed to stand, determined to not let her kick my ass
in front of the entire senior class.

She laughed. “Matt was only using you to make me mad.”

“Matt is a serious douche,” I said, squaring off against
her.

She called me a very unladylike name and ran at me, but I
stepped to the side at the last minute. She turned around quickly, though, and
elbowed me hard in the ribs, except this time I managed to balance myself. She
came at me again . . . and I slugged her in the face with my fist. I clearly
had no idea how to land a good punch, but Mila and I had watched
Fight Club
junior year. My fist must have connected well because she screamed and stood
there, holding her eye.

“I can’t believe you hit me!” she screamed. She ran at me
like a crazy woman at a Macy’s clearance sale, her hands slapping wildly at my
face. It became a full-fledged chick fight when she yanked a handful of my
hair. When I saw the hunk of red she’d pulled out of my head, I returned the
favor.

She teetered when she tried to kick me again with her
stilettos, and I heard someone in the crowd laugh. She grabbed at the bodice of
my dress and tugged, trying to rip it off. Her sharp fingernails pressed
against my piercing, and I screamed out, the pain slicing through my chest. I
threw her off me.

She grunted and barreled at me again, looking a lot like
those over-the-top wrestlers you see on television. When she made contact this
time, I rushed her with my shoulders. She yelled and flailed her arms wildly as
we both hit the pool water with a loud
splash!

Sebastian was the first person I saw when I came up out of
the water.

He scowled but reached in and pulled me out of the pool.
Water was dripping everywhere, and I couldn’t help but get him wet as he held me.

“Are you drunk?” he asked me, a frown on his face.

“Most likely,” I sighed, wringing the water from my ruined
hairstyle.

“What the hell?” he said, looking upset.

I shivered from the suddenly cool air. “PMS? Which I like to
call Psychotic Mood Shift. It sounds scarier.”

He shook his head. “Come on, let’s get you out of here
before anything else happens,” he said, taking my hand and leading me back
around the side of the house where all the cars were parked. I decided right
then to not tell him about Matt. I didn’t know how far Matt would have gone out
there, but I didn’t want to create trouble for Sebastian when he was a brand
new student and had to play on the football team where Matt was the
quarterback.

“What about Mila?” I asked, stopping him so I could take off
my wet shoes.

He blew out a breath, like he was fed-up. “Already rounded
her up. She’s meeting us at the car.”

I eyed him carefully. “You’re angry. Why?”

“First it was Cuba, then you and Matt, then the fight with
Emma! What’s next?” he said.

“So?”

“So! I worry about you. You’re a magnet for trouble. You
have been since the day I met you.”

Tears threatened, but I swallowed them down. “Well, don’t
worry about me, okay. I live in a twenty million dollar mansion
alone
!”

He raised his brows, and I felt guilty for yelling at him.
He’d come to mean something to me, and I didn’t want to screw that up. “Just be
my friend,” I implored. “I only have a few, and I can’t lose you, too.”

“I’ll always be your friend,” he whispered, gently easing me
into a hug, like I was fragile. I guess I was. I pressed my nose to his chest
and inhaled, hoping he smelled like butterscotch, but he didn’t. And at the
thought of Leo, I grew sad, letting our last conversation play back in my head.

I changed the topic. “So how embarrassed should I be? Did I
win?” I joked.

He thought about it. “It was slightly comical. I’ve seen
worst in a
Girls Gone Wild
video. But my money was on you,” he said,
tweaking my nose.

“Thanks for bailing me out,” I said, as we came upon Mila
standing by his car. She was drenched in beer but gave me a sparkling smile.

“You kicked ass, Nora,” she squealed and hopped around,
obviously still reeling from the excitement. I didn’t agree with her, but
smiled anyway, not wanting to dampen her spirits.