Page 4 of Riot Rules
A voice.
Female.
Kinda sexy, actually.
The slightly raspy, unusual sound disrupts the insults I’ve been hurling at myself. I open my eyes, look up, and wai—whoa!My spine straightens like someone’s just shoved a cattle prod up my ass. Legs for days. Beautiful almond-shaped eyes that are a deep, rich brown, the color of the earth after a downpour. They’re so mesmerizing that I forget about the blood running down my legs for a second and all I can do is stare.
Her hair is wild—tight, corkscrew curls. The bridge of her nose is smattered with freckles, giving her a girlish look that contradicts her very noticeable curves, which are showcased by a tight NASA t-shirt and black denim skirt. Her skin is pale as fresh poured cream. The apples of her cheeks sport a high flush, like she’s just walked out of an overly hot room. I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful in my life.
“Never thought I’d find Lord Lovett sitting in a hospital waiting room in his underwear, covered in blood. Jeez, you…” She eyes my crotch. “You weren’tmauled, were you?”
She knows who I am. And she didn’t say my title with any sort of emotion. That’s not normal. It’s impossible for most people to say the words ‘Lord Lovett’ without a sneer on their mouths or wonder in their eyes. This girl says the words like that’s all they are: words. A series of letters strung together and nothing more, with no implication of land, or wealth, or privilege attached to them.
“Sorry? Have we met?”
She arches an eyebrow, appraising my bizarre appearance; I realize belatedly what she’s seeing. God, this issucha fucking disaster. “Oh, only once or twice,” she says. “Aday, for the pastthreeyears. You’re joking, right?” She laughs, hiking the strap of her bag up higher onto her shoulder. There’s nothing for me to do but laugh right along with her.
“Of course. Totally fucking with you,” I agree. “You know me.”
“Yeah, you’re always pulling stunts and messing around in English, right?”
English? Englishclass? This aphro-fucking-dite goes to Wolf Hall and I haven’t noticed her before? How can that be even remotely possible? Three years? I’ve overlooked this girl forthree years? I don’t think so. “Yeah. Well…English is a bore, right? Gotta stay entertained somehow.”
The smile slides right off the girl’s face. “Cut the shit, Dash. You have no idea who I am, do you? God, you’resucha prick. You and your Riot House asshole friends think you’re so goddamn special. And you?You?” Her voice rises, that cool ease from a moment ago long gone. Her features are tense now, eyes narrowed, the bridge of her nose wrinkled, smashing her freckles into a knot, her full, amazing fucking lips pressing together into a line so hard that they all but disappear. I’m so confused by her wild change in mood that I inch back into the wooden, wobbly seat, pressing the tea towel to my cock a little tighter just in case she gets any ideas. How can she be even more beautiful now that she’s livid?
Christ, was Pax right? Have I lost way too much blood? Maybe I do know this person, and this amnesia is a temporary side effect of lack of oxygen to my brain. “Look—”
“You,” she continues, stabbing her index finger in my direction. “With your fancy, well-to-do English accent, and your fancy car, and your fancy clothes—”
“Hey! I buy my shit from American Apparel!” It’s imperative that I defend myself against this onslaught, even though I have no idea where it’s coming from and I’m tragically disarmed by my injury. The girl huffs, and there it is—the derision. Alive and well, after all. For just a moment there, I thought…
“Don’t lie. Your daddy sends you your clothes from Brook’s Brothers of London, doesn’t he? Do you even own a pair of jeans, Dashiell? Or, like, any other, regular kind of pants that don’t need to be dry cleaned?”
“I’d be better equipped to respond if I was wearinganykind of pants right now.”
“Funny.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, the warm brown of her eyes turning stony and hard. The weight of her gaze on my bare skin increases to uncomfortable levels.
“What’s your blood type?” Wren hollers.
Jesus, come on. Ijusttold him that. “O negative!”
The girl’s mouth turns down, briefly impressed. “O neg’s rare. They’re having a blood drive here today. You should donate. That’s whyI’mhere, in case you were wondering.”
I glance down at the blood-soaked tea towel. “I doubt that’s going to be possible. Any surplus blood I might have had is on the floor.”
Over at the reception desk, Pax is gripping the edge of the counter with both hands; the veins stand out in his neck. He looks like he’s about to vault over the desktop and shove Tara out of the way so he can input my details into the computer himself. “I’m not being stupid! That’s his actual name!” he snaps.
Tara deals him a deathly scowl. “I wasn’t born yesterday, okay. Just because he’s English—”
“Man, trouble follows you guys around like a bad smell, doesn’t it?” the girl with the stunning skin and the great hair says. “The three of you burn around this little mountain town like you fucking own it.”
“Wrendoesown a considerable amount of it. He bought Cosgrove’s last year. Y’know, the bar? I put most of my money in stocks and shares. Seemed more…prudent…”
My mystery classmate’s nostrils flare. “Yeah, I don’t really care about your portfolio. Perhaps you should acknowledge the wider world outside of your toxic trio every once in a while. Maybe that way, you won’t end up offending everyone all the time. God, you should go and help them. That nurse is about to call security on Pax.”
Even as she says this, Pax swings away from the desk, his eyes flashing like liquid mercury. Ahhh, shiiiit. I know that look. The motherfucker’s about to go nuclear. “Da—oh, come on.Carrie? Fuck’s sake, leave him alone. The man’s hurt. Dash, get over here and show her your driver’s license. This woman’s making life really fucking difficult.”
“Where thehelldo you think I’ve got my driver’s license stashed?” I say this, but in the back of my mind, I’m turning this girl’s name over in my head like it’s a smooth, precious stone.Carrie. Pax took one look at her and knew her. Pax, the guy who fucks a girl and forgets she even exists thirty minutes later. He called this beautiful creature by her name. Have I entered a parallel universe, where everything is identical tomyreality, except there’s one person extra here? What the hell is going on?
