Reckless Games: A Rixon High Novella Page 3

  They didn’t see me approaching, which was probably a good thing. Because from the way my heart was crashing wildly against my chest, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get out any words. Get a grip, I silently chided myself, it’s just Bryan and his friends. But the second I heard my name, I pulled up to a sharp stop.

  “Did you hear Peyton invited Carrie-Anne?” Kaiden said, eyeing Bryan carefully.

  “Invited her to what?”

  “The party Friday.”

  “Why the fuck would she do that?” Bryan said. “Carrie-Anne isn’t one of us.”

  My heart withered in my chest. I needed to move. I needed to turn around and get the hell out of there before I heard anything else. But I was rooted to the spot, unable to move.

  Gav shrugged. “Maybe she’s hoping the two of you—”

  “Fuck. That. Trombley is all kinds of weird.”

  “Didn’t you offer to help her out with that legacy project?”

  “Yeah,” Bryan let out a small chuckle. “Because I felt sorry for her. I mean, come on, she’s a total—”

  I turned and hurried away as fast as my legs would take me. Here I was about to apologize, and he was… I swallowed the lump in my throat, glancing back in their direction. Bryan was still laughing and joking.

  Foolish, foolish girl.

  Of course he’d only offered to help me because he felt sorry for me. Because he pitied me.

  Well, he could go to hell if he thought I was going to accept his help now.

  Indignance burned through me as I headed back into school, hoping to find an empty classroom to hide in until the end of lunch. But of course, the universe wasn’t done having fun at my expense, leading me straight in Joseph and Sorcha’s path.

  “Oh, it’s you,” Sorcha sneered, looking me up and down.

  “Hey,” I said. “I just—”

  “Whatever.” She stepped aside, and I slipped past them, exhaling a small breath. But her voice gave me pause. “Carrie-Anne?”

  * * *

  “Yes?”

  “I’m glad you found someone to help you with your project. It’s nice that Bryan took pity on you and offered to help. First Peyton, now you.” Her saccharine tone grated on me. “He sure loves a charity case.”

  Shock stole my words. It was one thing to talk trash about me, but Peyton didn’t deserve it. Not after all she’d been through. I took a step forward, narrowing my eyes at Sorcha.

  “And to think I actually used to want to be your friend.”

  “Excuse me?” She clutched her neck, feigning surprise.

  “You heard me. I might not have many friends—”

  “Any,” she corrected. “You don’t have any friends.”

  “Maybe not, but at least I’m not a vapid bitch,” I blurted, spinning on my heels and hurrying away from them. My heart beat so hard I felt lightheaded, but God, she made me so angry.

  As I reached the sanctuary of Mr. Keefer’s room though, the anger quickly dissipated, giving way to embarrassment. Because I couldn’t help but think that maybe Sorcha had a point.

  After all, I’d heard Bryan say it too.

  I managed to avoid Bryan, Joe, and Sorcha for the rest of the day. Spilling out of school with the rest of my class, I made a beeline for my car. My cell started vibrating and I pulled it out, dread snaking through me. Only a handful of people ever called me, and I fully expected to see my mom or dad’s name flashing on the screen. So naturally, I frowned when it was neither of them.

  “Peyton?” I said, hitting answer.

  “Hey, Carrie-Anne, how are you?”

  “I’m… okay. Let me guess, you’re calling to try to convince me to go to the party?”

  She chuckled. “Am I really that transparent?”

  “Do you want me to answer that?” I jammed the cell into the crook of my shoulder to pull out my keys and unlock my car.

  “Listen, I know it’s been a couple of weeks, but things have been crazy with the move, and getting settled in and—”

  “Relax,” I said, sliding into the seat. “It’s fine.”

  Peyton didn’t owe me anything, and I certainly didn’t resent the fact that she’d found someone to spend her life with.

  “How is living with a boy?”

  “Xander is hardly a boy, babe.” Her soft laughter filled the line. “But it’s great. I’m so happy.”

  “Good, you deserve it, Peyton.” She really did.

  “Enough about me. Tell me about you. How’s school? I bet you’re busy with the yearbook stuff.”

  “Yeah, real busy,” I mumbled.

  “Oh no, what happened?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle. Mr. Keefer chose my legacy project so that’s kinda cool.” If only the rest of the committee agreed.

  “That’s amazing, Carrie-Anne. You should be super proud of yourself.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So now you have to come Friday. We can celebrate.”

  “I appreciate the invite, I do.” My brows pinched. “But I’m kind of confused…”

  “About what?”

  “About why you would invite me.”

  “Because we’re friends, aren’t we?”

  “I guess… but—”

  “Look, I know things are a bit weird because of Bryan…”

  “Things aren’t weird because of Bryan, Peyton. Nothing even happened. Not that I wanted it to.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” She snickered. “But if that’s the case, you won’t care that he’s not going to be there Friday then.”

  “He isn’t?” I instantly regretted the way my voice went up at the end.

  “Apparently not. He told Kaiden earlier. Something about his parents being back in town and wanting to have family time.”

  “I see.”

  “So now you can come and hang out without having to worry about things being awkward.”

  Now would have been a good time to tell her about Bryan’s offer to help me with the legacy project, but that would also require telling her about what I overheard him saying at lunch. And Peyton wasn’t one to stay out of things. So I kept it to myself.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It isn’t really my thing.” And who liked to show up to a party where they were an afterthought?

  No one, that’s who.

  “I won’t take no for an answer,” she said. “I have a rare night off and I’d like to spend it getting drunk with my girlfriends, pretending I’m a teenager with no responsibilities.”

  My heart fluttered at the fact she considered me one of her girlfriends. Even if our relationship was tenuous at best, I’d never had that before.

  “Please?” Peyton tacked on when I didn’t answer.

  “Fine, I guess I can come for a little while.”

  “Yay, you won’t regret it, I promise. I’ll ask Ashleigh to give you a ride—”

  “It’s fine. I can make my own way there. Just text me the address.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.” At least if I went alone, I could always decide to leave early without making a scene.

  “Okay. You know, there’s still a month until graduation. Plenty of time to live a little.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to argue, but she was right.

  “Wear something cute,” Peyton added, “and I’ll see you Friday.”

  We said goodbye and hung up. Talking to Peyton was like getting whiplash. She was too wily, too good at getting you to agree to things and push you out of your comfort zone. But the last time she’d done that, I’d ended up playing the spare part.

  A text came through and I smiled as I read the message. She knew me better than I thought, maybe a little too well.

  * * *

  Peyton: I know you’re probably already thinking up an excuse to get out of the party… but it’s almost graduation, Carrie-Anne. Think about it. Please! I’d really like us to hang out.

  * * *

  Screw it. She was right. There was only a month left of high scho
ol. Did I really want to be the girl who graduated without ever attending a party or kissing a random guy? Did I really want to graduate as a girl pining after a guy who would never want her?

  I didn’t.

  But the only problem was, how the hell was I going to find the courage to be anything other than the girl I’d always been?

  “Hey, Mom,” I said, joining her in the kitchen.

  “Hey, sweetie. Good day?”

  “It was fine.”

  “Oh no,” her expression tightened, “what happened?”

  “Nothing. It’s just the last few weeks, ya know? It feels weird to think high school is almost done.”

  “And then you’ll be off to college. Gosh, my girl, the freshman.” She beamed.

  “Yeah, well, we need to see what happens first.”

  Divorces weren’t cheap or straightforward and I knew there was a real possibility that the money my parents had put aside for college would need to go toward their settlement.

  “No, Carrie-Anne, that money is yours. I’ve already talked to your father and—”

  “I don’t want to do this right now,” I sighed, waving her off. “There’s still time. Maybe I can apply for financial aid or something.” Which kinda sucked because I didn’t want to get into heaps of debt.

  “Oh, sweetie,” she came over and gathered me in her arms, “I hate that this is happening in your senior year.”

  “There’s never a good time to get divorced, Mom.”

  “No, but it’s so disruptive.”

  Because you make it disruptive, I wanted to scream, but I swallowed the words. They never got me anywhere. Mom talked about wanting to put me first, to protect my future at college, but the reality was once she got sucked into yet another argument with Dad, it all went out the window and I became the forgotten casualty of their love/hate relationship.

  “I think I’m going to head upstairs and do some homework.”

  “Oh. I was kinda hoping we could hang out. Gorge ourselves on cookies and watch some mindless TV.”

  “Maybe another time, Mom.”

  Disappointment glittered in her eyes, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pretend like everything was okay.

  It wasn’t.

  All I’d ever wanted was to go to college and escape my life in Rixon, but it was tainted by their separation. I’d heard them argue about it more than once. So while she said all the right words and smiled in all the right places, the truth was things were not okay. Money was tight and the divorce, if their arguments were anything to go by, was getting messy.

  I couldn’t just ignore that, no matter how hard I tried.

  And I couldn’t look forward to something that, in the end, might not be an option for me.

  Bryan

  The second I walked into math, Carrie-Anne dropped her head, suddenly finding the book on her desk mightily interesting.

  Whatever.

  I didn’t know what the fuck her problem was, but I was done trying.

  Slouching into my chair, I pulled out a pen and some paper from my bag and focused up front. But I could have sworn I felt Carrie-Anne glaring at me, her eyes practically burning holes into the back of my head.

  Unable to resist the urge to engage, I glanced over my shoulder and arched a brow. “Problem, Kitty Cat?”

  Her eyes narrowed to angry slits as she otherwise ignored me.

  Okay then.

  I leaned back on my chair, bumping her desk. She cussed under her breath, letting out an exasperated sigh when I stretched my arms high and swept them back over her table.

  “Mr. Hughes, you might be ready to graduate, but I still have you in my class for at least another three weeks, not to mention finals. At least try to pay attention.”

  “Yes, sir.” I saluted him, dropping my chair forward.

  A couple of kids snickered, and I grinned. It wasn’t that I wanted to be the class clown or anything, I just didn’t understand what the point was. I had a scholarship to Michigan in the bag. The hard work was over.

  Besides, after suffering Mom’s attempts at an apology all last night, I was feeling all kinds of restless.

  They thought a weekend at some fancy resort in the Hamptons, the weekend after graduation, was going to make up for the fact they were going to miss the culmination of my entire high school experience.

  It was a fucking joke.

  If they didn’t want to see me graduate, I sure as shit didn’t want to spend a weekend with them playing happy family.

  She had insisted on a family meal Friday night to talk about things which meant I would be stuck in the middle of parental hell while my friends partied at Aaron Bennet’s house. But it was either give them one dinner or never hear the end of it from my dad. And the thing worse than absent parents… absent parents who insisted on calling and texting twenty-four-seven.

  By the time the bell rang, I was almost asleep. Everyone filed out of the class, and I specifically hung back, waiting for Carrie-Anne to get done. Because apparently, I had zero self-control where she was concerned.

  “So, when do you want to start engraving the leaves?” I asked.

  “Didn’t Mr. Keefer tell you?” Her lips twisted. “You don’t need to help out anymore.”

  “I don’t?” A strange sensation snaked through me.

  “Nope. You can take your charity elsewhere.”

  “My charity? What the fuck?”

  Carrie-Anne moved around me, but I wasn’t done. Grabbing her arm, I pulled her out of the way of the other students.

  “Get your hands off me,” she snarled.

  I let her go immediately, dragging a hand through my hair. “What the fuck is your problem?” I spat the words, growing tired of her mood swings.

  “My problem? That’s real rich coming from you.” She stepped up to me and jabbed her finger at my chest. “I don’t need you, Bryan. I don’t need anyone.”

  Before I could even formulate a response, Carrie-Anne shouldered past me and took off down the hall, melting into the sea of bodies.

  “Jesus,” I breathed, scrubbing my face.

  I’d seen Carrie-Anne get worked up before—I was often the one pushing her buttons—but I’d never seen her so cold before.

  Fucking girls.

  Couldn’t live with them, couldn’t live without them. But Carrie-Anne Trombley…

  Well, she could go to hell for all I cared.

  The week didn’t get any better. Mom wouldn’t get off my back about what they were now calling my ‘graduation present.’ Most kids got a party or a check or a new laptop for college. But my parents wanted me to suffer a weekend at the Hamptons with them. They’d even gone so far as to say I could take a friend. As if I really wanted to make Gav or Kaiden suffer with them too.

  “Nerd alert,” Gav whistled, and my head snapped up in the direction of Carrie-Anne. She was approaching a tree, a packaged sandwich and packet of chips in her hands. “How goes the legacy project?” he asked.

  “It isn’t.” I shrugged, irritation splashing through me. I don’t know why I’d even bothered to offer to help. We clearly rubbed each other the wrong way, and it wasn’t as if I actually wanted to spend my free time engraving ninety wooden leaves. But she’d seemed so dejected, the words had spilled out before I could stop them.

  “What happened?”

  “She’s above the likes of me helping her, apparently.” I clicked my tongue, watching as she sat in the shadows of the trees, eating her lunch.

  “She’s… an odd one,” he mused. “I can’t quite figure her out.”

  “I’m over it. It wasn’t like I wanted to help her anyway.”

  “I can’t believe you have to appease your parents tomorrow night instead of coming to the party.”

  “I might make it afterwards. I could do with a blowout.”

  “What you need, my man, is some pussy. If you don’t use it soon,” his eyes dropped to my crotch, I’m pretty sure it’ll fall off.”

  Smacking him in the arm, I fro
wned. “Says you. Who was the last girl you hooked up with?”

  “A guy never kisses and tells.” He shrugged.

  “Bull. Shit.” Laughter rumbled in my chest. “I’m going to miss this, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know. But it’s college, Bry. We have to make the leap someday.”

  Just then, two cheerleaders sauntered up to us. “Hey, Bryan, Gav,” Melissa Henson smiled at me, dropping her eyes down my body and back up. “We just wondered if you were going to Aaron’s party tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be there,” Gav said as he checked out her friend.

  “What about you, Bryan?” Melissa purred.

  “I… uh, I’m not sure yet.”

  “Well, if you do go, maybe we can all get a drink and hangout?”

  “Maybe, yeah.” I cupped the back of my neck, watching as they walked away.

  “Maybe your luck is turning,” Gav chuckled.

  “What about you and Riley?”

  He shrugged. “She isn’t really my type.”

  “Who the fuck is your type?” I teased.

  “Would you… with Melissa, I mean?”

  “I mean, she’s hot, sure.” Long blonde hair, legs for miles, and a body made for sin. But she’d never caught my eye before.

  Maybe because you were too busy looking at the wrong girl.

  I shook the thoughts away, glancing over at Carrie-Anne again. But when I finally found her spot under the trees, she was gone.

  “Isn’t this lovely?” Mom asked as we sat crammed into a booth at some fancy restaurant in Halston on Friday night. The next town over, it was bigger than Rixon, full of boutiques and high-end bars.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled, sipping my Coke, “real lovely.”

  “Bryan,” Dad chided. “You could at least try to pretend you want to be here. Now, I think I’ll have the filet mignon with the crushed potatoes and green beans.”

  “Hmm, yummy,” Mom beamed, her eyes scanning the menu. “Pick whatever you want, sweetheart. It’s our treat.”

  Of course it was.

  More like a consolation prize.

  “So, did you give the trip any thought?” she asked.