Punk 57 (30 page)

“You see, Laurent?” Trey calls over my head to Masen. “You can’t watch him all the time.”

I continue hearing the scratching of the protractor and look up, scanning the room. Till needs to get Trey out of here. Masen attacking him won’t go unpunished if it happens again.

“When you sucker punch someone, that shit doesn’t go un-checked,” Trey threatens, “so don’t turn your back, either. I won’t be alone next time.”

“Jesus, I’m bored,” I mumble at Trey. “Go to Chemistry, would you?”

He arches a brow.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” I say, pushing him to take the hint. “I have to work now.”

He snorts like he’s wondering what possible “work” I could have to do in Art. He finally rolls his eyes and gives me a peck on the cheek, getting up and walking out of the classroom.

I reach down, pretending to get something out of my bag as I whisper to Masen. “Tell me you’re jealous.”

I say the same words to him as he said to me at the drive-in. I don’t want to go to prom with Trey. I don’t want to even talk to Trey.

But Masen has given me nothing, and I’m not putting my life on hold in the meantime.

“Tell me I’m yours,” I say.

He lets the protractor fall to the table and looks down, keeping silent.

My jaw aches, and I feel tears sting the backs of my eyes. “I feel like you’re going to disappear any minute. Like you’re not really real.”

“I’ll tell you everything,” he whispers back. “I promise. Just not yet.”

I wipe away the wet at the corner of my eye and clear my throat. I like Masen. A lot. But he has no roots here, and once the year ends, nothing is keeping him here. I’m nervous.

A low growl catches my attention, and I turn my head, realizing it’s coming from Masen’s stomach. He shifts in his seat, looking a little embarrassed.

“Have you eaten today?”

“I’m fine,” he says. “I just didn’t feel like gas station food again.”

I watch him, the realization of his situation hitting me. Does he just go to the Cove after he leaves here? Is he alone all the time? How much money could he possibly have to eat and get gas and do laundry?

Sadness creeps in. No one’s taking care of him.

He must sense me watching him, because he jerks his chin at my drawing, changing the subject.

“What is that?”

I swallow, gazing down at my third try at the coal sketch which looks more like a Rorschach ink blot.

I suck.

“It’s an album cover,” I tell him. “That friend I told you about? Misha? He writes music. I was making him a surprise for graduation.”

His eyes narrow on it, and his breathing turns fast and shallow.

“What?”

He turns away, blinking rapidly. “Nothing.”

I let out a sigh and turn back to my work.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
I might lie a lot, but at least I say something.

I reach into my bag and pull out a granola bar, tossing it in front of him before I excuse myself to go to the bathroom.

It’s only eight o’clock in the morning, and I think I’ve already had enough boys for one day.

Squeezing out the packet into the cup, I replace the plastic lid and shake the salad inside. The Caesar dressing mixes and coats the contents, and I grab a plastic fork and a bottle of water, moving down the cafeteria line to the cashier.

“You’re eating?” Lyla steps up next me and reaches over, taking a cup of fruit.

“Yeah.” I hand my lunch card to the cashier, and she swipes it. “Spring fever. Might as well eat. I can’t concentrate on schoolwork today.”

Or at least not at school. My mind is on Masen all the time. Is he here? Is he close? Is he going to push me into a classroom, touch me, and kiss the daylights out of me?

Please. God. Yes?

“You know, I should tell you,” Lyla says, giving the cashier some money. “You leaving the drive-in with Masen Friday night was pretty shitty.”

I stop and turn my eyes on her, my heart catching in my throat. I don’t really care if she knows I left with him, but does she know what we were doing in his truck at the drive-in?

She smiles sarcastically. “Him pulling out of the drive-in right in the middle of a movie, and you nowhere to be found? It wasn’t hard to figure out, and I’m willing to bet Trey’s figured it out, too.”

I exhale, relaxing a little. Okay, she doesn’t know much else then.

“You know what?” I say. “You actually shouldn’t tell me anything. You didn’t see me leave with him, you have no clue what’s going on between us, if anything, and
you’ve
given more guys a ride than a bus. When you’re perfect, then we’ll talk. Got it?”

Her eyes flare, shooting me a nasty look as she opens her mouth to speak again.

But I cut her off. “You’re done,” I tell her. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

I turn around, but I see Trey and J.D. approach and stop.

Son of a…

“You wanna have some fun?” Trey comes in, placing his hands on my hips.

What? I breathe out a laugh, a little exasperated. I can’t keep up with the intrigues right now.

But I blink, trying to focus myself again and find my quick wit. “Sure.” I give in. “I was wondering when you’d start getting interesting.”

J.D. laughs, and Trey cocks an eyebrow, half-amused and half looking like he wants to teach me how to keep my mouth shut.

“Laurent can’t seem to take his eyes off you,” he says.

He turns his head over his shoulder, and I follow his gaze, finding Masen sitting at a table full of the worst delinquents in school. He leans back, his long legs stretched out, and his hands locked behind his head, laughing with the guy he’s talking to.

“So?” I look back at Trey.

“So I think he wants you,” he answers. “I want you to use that for me.”

And then he leans in, holding the other side of my face and whispering into my ear. “Get him to come to my house next week for the party.”

I pinch my eyebrows together, vaguely remembering him mentioning his parents being out of town soon. And he wants me to bring Masen. So you can do what? Beat him up after I’ve lured him into the trap like in that 80’s movie?

Yeah, no.

Trey pulls away, and I force my tone even. “That doesn’t sound like any fun to me.”

Trey hoods his eyes, clearly getting aggravated with my lack of cooperation. He turns to Lyla, giving her a sexy smile. “Lyla, baby,” he says, and I see J.D. tense. “You got some balls, don’t you?”

Lyla grins back coyly, and I shake my head.

If I don’t do what he wants, Lyla will. I catch J.D.’s sneer shoot between Trey and Lyla, and then to me before he looks away.

I heave a sigh. “Masen’s not stupid, Trey. He’ll see right through her.”

I shove my salad at Lyla and brush past the boys, walking toward Masen’s table.

Stepping up, I stop next to him. All of his buddies cease their conversation and look at me, but Masen doesn’t spare me a glance.

“Hey.” I put my hand on my hip, knowing he’s aware of me.

A smile curls Masen’s lips, and his friends’ eager glances dart between him and me.

“Princess,” he says. “What can I do for you?”

Oh, please. I slide in between him and the table, hopping up and planting my hands behind me, leaning back a little, well-aware my shirt is riding up as his eyes flash to my stomach.

A few snorts sound off from his friends, and I taunt him with my eyes.

“Your prom date’s watching,” he says.

“He sent me,” I reply. “He seems to think you’ll let me bring you to one of his parties.”

I hear a few mumbles around the table, while Masen simply looks amused. We both know what Trey has in store, and I can feel my own friends watching us.

“You don’t want your friends thinking you’re a chicken, do you?” I play.

Masen’s smile widens, and he glances to his side, probably seeing if Trey is paying attention.

Not that either of us probably care. I kind of like this game. No one would believe we’re actually into each other. I can play them as long as we’re not playing each other.

He looks up at me and slides his hands under my knees, pulling me off the table and slowly lowering me into his lap, straddling him. Quiet laughter sounds off around the table and a need is suddenly building between my legs.

Leaning into him, chest to chest, I whisper in his ear. “I don’t want you to go,” I admit. “He won’t be alone.”

“Why do you care?” he speaks low, keeping his tone flat. “You’re still taking Machismo-Dick to prom, aren’t you?”

“Has anyone else asked me?”

“Would you say yes?”

I brush his ear with my nose, feeling his soft skin there. “Ask and find out.”

“Trevarrow!”

I jerk, hearing my name called. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s the principal. Great. I move to get off his lap, but he presses his hands down on my thighs, keeping me there.

“Masen,” I urge. He’s going to get me in trouble. In public.

“Get off his lap,” Principal Burrowes orders me. “Now.”

I put my hands on Masen’s shoulders, moving to get up, but he grips my hips again, keeping me down.

“She gets off my dick when I tell her to get off,” he tells the principal.

My mouth falls open, and I widen my eyes.
What the fuck?

Burrowes’ expression turns furious, and I hear various laughs and snorts around the table behind me.

“I beg your pardon?” she exclaims.

But Masen just leans into my ear. “I’ll see you later.”

And then he stands, carefully letting me slide off his lap and onto my feet.

He doesn’t spare anyone a second glance and walks out of the lunchroom with Burrowes’ heels clacking after him.

Somehow, though, I doubt she’s going to be able to stop him.

I’m going to hell. I’m pretty sure she’s going to drag me there herself.

Ryen has a nasty temper, and it’s the one thing about her I didn’t know but was happy to find out.

It excites me.

I tilt the flower pot and pluck out the key that’s hidden underneath. Unlocking her front door, I replace the key and enter the house as the grandfather clock chimes to indicate it’s five a.m. Hopefully, everyone is still asleep.