Page 38 of Revenge At Raleigh High
Swift topic change there, Silver. Smooth. Well done.
God, inner monologue me can be such a sarcastic little bitch sometimes.
Alex sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, frowning as he stares ahead out of the windshield. I do love being wrapped around him on the back of the bike. I love how free and wild it feels. I even love the cold knifing through my clothes and the wind threatening to pluck me off the back and send me flying, but this morning I’m not sad that Alex has had to put his motorcycle away until the snow and ice calms down. This morning, I’m quietly, unreasonably giddy that I get to stare at him while he drives and think about sucking that bottom lip of his intomymouth.
He's more than just a seventeen-year-old high school student with a penchant for trouble. He’s the fucking devil incarnate, come to tempt in the most distracting ways possible, and I’m not complaining about it one little bit.
The bridge of his nose wrinkles in a surprisingly endearing way that doesn’t really look right on his usually extra-serious face. I’m fascinated by the sight of it. I’d pull out my phone and take a picture of it, but I’m not quick enough. As soon as it’s formed, then it disappears again. “I’m not really a Thanksgiving kind of person,” Alex says under his breath. “I usually try and avoid the holiday at all costs.”
I swivel in my seat, arching an eyebrow at him. “You have something against turkey, Alessandro Moretti?”
“Just pumpkins, actually. So orange. And…bumpy.”
“Bumpy?”
He nods.
“All right, well, I’ll make Dad promise to ease back this year. He usually decorates every room in the house with them, but for you…”
“For me, he’ll hang them from the rafters and fill the living room with them from floor to ceiling,” he jokes.
“Maybe. But only because he likes you.”
Alex’s mouth twists a little. “Helikesme.” He seems entertained by the concept.
“Yes. And you’re the only person the dog likes, so you basically have to come. Mom’s taking Max to see my aunt in Toronto, so the house will be too empty otherwise.”
“What about you,Argento?”
“Hmm?”
“Doyoulike me?” I can tell a wicked smirk is itching at the corners of his mouth. He’s trying his best to suppress it. If I didn’t know him so well now, I wouldn’t even be able to tell he was trying so hard to hold it back—his features look like they’re carved out of stone—but I can see it in his eyes.
I lean back in my seat, studying my nails, affecting boredom. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess you’re tolerable.”
Unexpectedly, the car swings to the left and the engine cuts off. Out of the fogged-up wind shield, I notice the looming, grey shape of Raleigh High School and a number of blurry smears of color hurrying toward the main entrance, trying to get out of the cold. Alex unclips his seatbelt and quickly leans over, planting a hand against the window next to me to brace himself. He’s so fucking close. The smell of him floods my head. He’s the only person in the whole world who can make me feel dizzy and drugged with just the slightest trace of their pheromones. Case in point: I can’t form a single coherent thought right now, as I stare up into his dark eyes and slowly, slowly, drown in him…
I can’t fucking breathe.
He lowers himself an inch, his mouth over mine. He’s so close to kissing me. His lips are two tiny millimeters away from touching mine…
My heart’s wedged itself in the bottom of my throat.
I feel like I’m slipping, falling, disintegrating….
“We arrived in the nick of time,” Alex whispers. “I was going to pull over and find out just how much of me you couldtolerate. But…” He pulls away, sinking back into his seat while he twists, reaching onto the back seat for his bag. I’m reeling, still waiting for the pressure of his mouth on mine, drunk on the smell of him. “Looks like we’re going to be late. We’ll have to find out some other time.” The smirk he was reining in before has been unleashed in full force now. The crooked quirk of his mouth is far more potent that an all-out grin. Alex Moretti’s little smirks are like gift wrapped secrets, hinting at what they might hide but giving nothing away. He says plenty when he puts them into effect, and right now he’s saying, ‘Iknowyou fucking want me, Argento. You’re mine to play with. Mine to tease. Mine to drive crazy with the simplest suggestion of a kiss.”
And he’s so fucking right. Even if he didn’t tell me about Halliday.
* * *
“I heard she’s been transferred to some sort of mental facility. Margo, my neighbor? Her mom toldmymom that she tried to drown herself in their pool last night. I mean, who does that?
“Who still hasn’t drained theirpool.”
“It’s an indoor pool, dummy.”
I know exactly who the girls next to me are gossiping about, as I make my way into the locker rooms. Laurie Gulliver and Jade Prescott—both members of the Raleigh Sirens, girls Kacey used to haze back in the day, when she found it funny to terrorize the other cheerleaders to the point of nervous breakdown. It’s funny, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard them say so much in one go before. In the past, it was always, “Yes, Kacey.” “No, Kacey.” “Sorry, Kacey.” There was only one thing Kacey enjoyed more than giving those poor girls hell, and that was when she had one us do it instead. Me, Halliday, Zen, Melody: all of us are guilty of making these girls cry at one point in time or another.
