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Hannah slows down and places her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that. But how cool! Is it just like they say—being a teenager?”
I’m not really sure how to answer that. So far, being any age hasn’t fared well for me. “Um. . . I don’t know. I guess.”
“Well, I think that’s super cool. I’m friends with a teenager.” She smiles. “My house is right up here. My mom can make us some snacks, and we can swim. You can tell me all about yourself! I bet we’re gonna be together a lot.” I follow Hannah up the sidewalk until we stop at a beautiful two-story. “Shocker, all my brother’s friends are here.”
Laughter echoes through the air. I adjust my bulky, black-rimmed glasses as we near a group of sweaty boys. My eyes skim over the group, trying to pick out Hannah’s brother.
“What do we have here, Hannah Banana? First day of school, and you’ve already found yourself a new pet project?” The guys laugh, and my shoulders curve inward as I dip my head.
“Eat dirt, Chase. This is my friend, Makayla. She’s thirteen!” Hannah puts the spotlight on me. My cheeks suddenly heat with embarrassment. “Makayla don’t mind them. Some of them are nice. Hi, Levi!”
“S’up, Hannah.”
“I’m serious. She’s not like the rest of your flock.” The boy with the dirty blond hair goes on. “Running out of Barbies to dress up?”
“Maybe she’s the ugly duckling, and Hannah wants to turn her into a swan—”
“Shut up, Ben! Kip, I’m telling Mom!”
“Calm down. I was just kidding. Hey, no need to hide. It was a joke.” The boy walks up to me, forcing me to lift my chin. “Those are some big glasses.”
“Yeah, it helps me see what a big loser you are, turd breath.”
His friends gasp then burst into laughter. His smile falls the moment I find mine. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to follow my flock inside, away from the foul odor.” I lift my head high and walk next to Hannah, who’s smiling from ear to ear.
“We’re not done here, duckling.”
“Not by a longshot, turd breath.”
* * *
I rush into my father’s house, closing the door behind me. Leaning against it, I release a heavy sigh. That wasnotthe way I wanted my first day to go. Why in the world didhehave to show up? Of all people! And he’s afirefighter?
Hannah was the only friend I bothered to stay in touch with. Or enemy. Ben Wallace was a ghost I buried forever ago. The all-star football player who radiated good looks and oozed popularity. The only person who made my blood boil. I’d refused to let him see how much he hurt me and had given it right back. It was a constant battle of whose jab could hurt more.
Then. . . somewhere along the way, I fell for him. When his attention was on me, he made me feel seen. Even if it was negative, at least he still saw me. And it wasn’t like he was wrong. I was ugly. Scrawny. My eyes bugged out in my bifocals. Still, it didn’t give him the right to cut me down. Make me question my self-worth. Ben Wallace made it his mission to hurt me. And the worst part? I never knew why.
“Why didn’t I just walk away?” I grumble to myself as I push off the door. I could have told him to buzz off. Slapped him and continued dancing. I could have ignored him.But nooo.Why would I have done something level-headed and non-insane?
I toss my work bag on the couch and head toward the kitchen, searching for one—ortwo—bottles of wine. What was I thinking?It’s called vengeance.But to lure him into his hotel room, fake seduce him, and leave him chained to his bed? That wasn’t me. He impacted my life so much, yet he had no idea whoI was—the girl he wanted to ruin for sport. My anger took the wheel, got him up to his room, and did all the work.
That kiss, though. I thought I lost the battle the moment his lips crashed against mine. My first thought was to fight him off. But the moment we collided, a spark ignited, so intense, I couldn’t have pulled away if I tried. And I didn’t. I lied, told myself it was all part of the scheme. But on the inside, I craved it, feeling more alive in his arms than I ever have.
I swore I wouldn’t make it out alive when he bared his muscled chest. Then he dropped his pants, and I almost confessed everything. Somehow, I stuck to my plan. The moment I shut that door, I gathered my things from my hotel room and caught an Uber home. There was no way I could stay at that hotel—or anywhere near him.
For so many years, I imagined the day I’d get back at Ben Wallace, but I don’t feel as vindicated as I thought I would. I've never been more terrified, exhilarated, turned on. . . That kiss. . . it lingered. The feel of his lips against mine stayed with me. I kept telling myself it would be a thing of the past by the end of the weekend, and I’d move on.
Then he walked into my classroom looking as delicious as he’d felt under me.
Popping open a red, I pour myself a hefty glass and snatch up the bottle before plopping down on the couch.
“Didn't feel good. Felt terrible. Worst ever.” I take a deep sip of my wine. Time heals a lot of wounds. Not this one. “Even though he’s built like he takes on fires singlehandedly. . . ” I wonder what happened with his football career. In high school, it was all he cared about. He was built then, but now,God. . . And in more ways than one.A lotmore ways. Like,huge—
“Jesus.” I cover my face. “Get that image out of your head!” But Ben stupid Wallace is well-endowed, hung like a stall—
“Okay, stop this!”Think of something else. Anything else. Stat.I grab the remote and turn on the TV to distract myself. Food Channel—nope. Home Network—nope. True Crime—Women Who Snap. This might work. . .
“Is that a thing for you? Luring guys in? Getting them to want you?”
