Page 84 of Riot Rules
“Oh my god, that was hilarious. Poor little perfect Carina Mendoza. Not so perfect now, is she? Hey, why don’t you come down here and play a while. Really show her who’s boss?”
Ididgo down there. I crouched beside her, cold rage snaking through my veins as I grabbed her by the chin and dug my fingers into her cheeks. “I’d better never hear her name in your mouth again, bitch.”
She’d pouted. Still playing with me. Still thinking that it was a game. “Or what?”
“Or I’ll cut out your fucking tongue and feed it to the wolves.” She heard the malice in my tone, then, saw the hatred in my eyes, and whimpered out loud. I hated myself in that moment. I was so angry at myself, and at her, and the audaciously shitty position I’d placed myself in, that I’d actually wanted to take my frustration out on her. I hadn’t, of course. I’m a piece of shit, but if there’s one thing I can be counted on tonotdo, it’s hit a girl. I stormed out of the observatory, burning up on the inside. The look on Carrie’s face when she saw me…
I could live to be a hundred and never forget the look on her face. I see her anguish in my dreams. When I pass her in the halls now, arm linked through Presley’s, her face is so blank and distant, barely even flickering with recognition when our eyes accidentally meet, that it’s strange to remember such pain and shock on her face.
To her credit, she recovered quickly. It was only a matter of days after the incident at the observatory that I saw her laughing and joking with Presley in the dining hall. Her laughter was like a punch to the gut. She’d sounded so carefree and light, actuallyhappy, like she’d completely recovered and already moved on after seeing me fooling around with another girl. It had stung, hearing her laugh like that. Stupid, right? I shit all over the trust I built with her. For good reason, but still. I hurt her, I know I fucking did. And then I have the gall to be upset when she recovers from that hurt?
“Come on, asshole. We’re going to be late.” Pax elbows me in the ribs.
“I needed to find my glasses.”
“Shouldn’t have bothered.”
“They help mesee.”
“They make you look like a dick.”
I’m sure he’s right, but fuck it. I look like a dick. The girls still stare. The girls still whisper. Carrie doesn’t do either, so my appearance is irrelevant.
Pax holds the door open for me—a literal first—and offers out an arm. “Lemme know if you need a hand. Y’know. If you’rethatblind.”
I contemplate giving him a dead arm, but things have been a little easier between us of late. We still bicker like little kids. Still rough house and fight when one of us has had enough and snaps, but there’s a kind of accord between us now, too. A fragile understanding. I’d prefer not to scrap with him today.
I still snarl a little as I follow him into the academy. “FuckingEnglish. We should just do all of our assignments ahead of time and finish the block early. It’s getting harder and harder not to beat the tar out of that motherfucker every time I lay eyes on him.”
The motherfucker I’m referring to is Fitz, of course. The moment the cops disappeared, the bastard’s mask slipped back down, hiding his true face, and he was once again our relaxed, smiling, too-cool English professor. He’s never brought up the fact that he threatened us. Hasn’t spoken to me outside of a classroom setting at all since that day outside the dining hall. The knowledge is still there though—he has Wren’s little box of goodies from the night of the party, and as long as he has the drugs, he’s still capable of causing an immense amount of trouble for us if he feels like it.
Pax laughs sinisterly. “I’m down to pay him a visit in Mountain Lakes. I know where he lives. Perhaps we can recover our property while we’re down there.”
I’ve already thought about this. “You know he’s too smart to keep it at his place. He probably buried the box in the woods or something.”
Wren’s inside the den when Pax and I arrive. He’s right where I expect him to be, lounging on the leather sofa, dressed all in black. He's been wearing the same clothes since before Christmas—a punishment for some dumb bet he made with Pax and then gave up on. He wouldn’t run with us this morning; I chalked his salty mood up to the fact that Mercy, who Wren hasn’t spoken with for months now, has been reaching out more and more, trying to reconcile. She left Wolf Hall last year to study at some fancy school in Switzerland, but I happen to know that she wants to come back. If Wren’s learned of his sister’s plans, then it’s no wonder he’s in such a sour mood. He’s lying on the couch with his arm over his eyes as usual; he barely even grunts when Pax digs him in the ribs as we walk by.
“Bastard,” he growls.
“Asshole,” Pax fires back.
I sit myself down under the window, and Pax joins me. It’s been a long ass time since he sat by himself at the old Victorian writing desk he used to favor. Sometimes, I think he sits beside me just so he can annoy the shit out of me. Mostly, I think he’s just content to be sitting next to a friend. Not that he would ever admit to such a thing.
I grab my notepad and laptop, dragging both out of my bag.
“Well, well, well. What’sthis?”
I look up, not really interested in whatever has caught Pax’s attention, but then I see Carrie walking toward us, her eyes already fixed on the ugly floral sofa that she normally sits on. She looks fucking beautiful. Her hair is a confusion of curls, loose around her face. As usual, the only makeup she’s wearing is a hint of mascara and a swipe of lip gloss. Her skin is flawless, pale and perfect, like alabaster. My hands ache at the memory of what that skin felt like, cool and soft as silk. I nearly have a heart attack when I realize that she’s wearing one of her NASA t-shirts under her bright yellow bomber jacket. She hasn’t worn that shirt since the night she caught me with Amalie. She hasn’t been back to the observatory, either. I check on the sign-in sheet sometimes and her name never graces its pages.
I regret that. Breaking her heart had to be done, but I should have chosen a different venue to accomplish the task. I knew what I was doing; I picked the observatory on purpose, because it was our place and we’d shared so much there. I knew the whole thing would hurt so much more because of that. I’d forgotten that before the observatory wasourplace, it washerplace, though. She lost more than me that night back in July. She lost her passion for astronomy. I stole her fucking stars.
“God, what I wouldn’t give to havethoselips wrapped around my cock,” Pax groans.
I nearly kill him. My hand balls into a fist, ready to swing, but then I see the girl behind Carrie—a pretty little blonde thing with huge doe eyes and a wary look on her face—and I realize he’s not talking aboutmygirl. He’s talking about this new creature.
Pax, being Pax, sticks his foot out as Carrie and this girl pass, and Carrie does something that shocks the hell out of me. She kicks Pax’s foot out of the way, baring her teeth at him.
Whoa-ho-ho! Girl’s got somefirein her these days.
