climbs out the window and closes it.
“Maddie,” I whisper, wiping the steam from the mirror over the sink. I gently bang my forehead against the glass, stare at my reflection. “Maybe she can’t stand the sight of you. You’re part of her past, a past that involves death.”
Or maybe she doesn’t want a guy she knows is broken.
More likely she thinks you’re an ass for pretending you don’t know her!
I want to be different, go back and change the way I acted, tell her I’m sorry. There’s an Alpha frat party tonight. I’m obligated to go. It’s black tie. I get dressed, hoping against hope I’ll see her there.
Maddie
ou look hot!” Gina squeals.
I hop off the chair and check my reflection. She’s lined my eyes in smoky grey liner. A darker shade of gray is on my lids, and she’s put on several coats of mascara. On my lips and cheeks, she put light pink lip-gloss and a touch of blush.
She’s also fixing my hair. Curling it with a thick curling iron. The end result is soft, romantic.
I wonder if Kyle will like it
, I think, and then mentally kick myself.
“Wow, Gina.”
“Yeah, I know. The guys are going trip over themselves to get your digits.” She pushes me back in the chair. “Especially one boy in particular.” She sniffles. Still has a cold or allergies, it seems. “I got the scoop for you, by the way.”
I turn to face her. “The scoop?”
“Yeah, the scoop about Hottie TA.” She spritzes some of my curls with hair spray.
I clear my throat. “And?”
I don’t want to give anything away. He doesn’t seem to know me, so I’m going to pretend I don’t know anything about him. Like the fact that he used to sleep with a nightlight. Or that he would tickle my back so, so gently while we listened to music. His favorite band was The Cure, and he said he wanted to be a poet when he grew up.
Once he wrote me a poem. My aunt threw it away, but I have it memorized.
You make me laugh.
I’m torn in half.
When I’m with you I feel whole.
I’ll never let you go.
That’s the Kyle I remember. Sweet. Kind. Caring.
Ass-grabbing Kyle doesn’t even register, but I know it’s him, a version of him I don’t understand, but still, it’s him. Plus, apparently he has no idea who I am.
“Earth to Maddie. Come in, Maddie.” Gina snaps her fingers in front of my face.
“Oh, sorry,” I say, and smile. “Thanks again for fixing me up. I love the dress, though the shoes make me wobbly.”
She sniffles. “You’re welcome.” She shrugs. “Now do you want the scoop or not?”
“Sure,” I say, standing. Following Gina to the door.
It’s ten-thirty at night. The perfect time to get the party started, according to Gina. I have to admit I’m excited about drinking alcohol again. The liquid is warmth and peace. It’s numbness, and feeling everything good. It makes me bold.
“His name is Kyle Hadley,” she begins.
That I already know.
“He’s a sophomore, and apparently Bitchy Spears thinks he’s a genius.”
I didn’t know that. Maybe he still writes poetry.
Her eyes meet mine. “He’s kind of a slut.” She raises an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if you think that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” She snickers.
“It’s…” I shrug. I have no idea what to say.
She continues, “And word is, he likes the kinky stuff.”
“What?” My eyes blink several times. “What do you mean by ‘kinky?’ “
“Shit, roomie. Have you been living in a nunnery? Whips. Handcuffs. Hell, I don’t know. There are several levels of kink.”
I open my mouth. Close it. My heart is pounding. Handcuffs? Whips? I’m way out of my league. My brain can’t even attach those things to making love. If that’s what Kyle wants, then he’ll never be interested in me.
Which is what you want,
I tell myself. But the desire spreading through my belly suggests I might be willing to learn. If Kyle were to show me.
“No, I haven’t lived in a nunnery.”
Not quite. My home life is sort
“Maddie,” I whisper, wiping the steam from the mirror over the sink. I gently bang my forehead against the glass, stare at my reflection. “Maybe she can’t stand the sight of you. You’re part of her past, a past that involves death.”
Or maybe she doesn’t want a guy she knows is broken.
More likely she thinks you’re an ass for pretending you don’t know her!
I want to be different, go back and change the way I acted, tell her I’m sorry. There’s an Alpha frat party tonight. I’m obligated to go. It’s black tie. I get dressed, hoping against hope I’ll see her there.
Maddie
ou look hot!” Gina squeals.
I hop off the chair and check my reflection. She’s lined my eyes in smoky grey liner. A darker shade of gray is on my lids, and she’s put on several coats of mascara. On my lips and cheeks, she put light pink lip-gloss and a touch of blush.
She’s also fixing my hair. Curling it with a thick curling iron. The end result is soft, romantic.
I wonder if Kyle will like it
, I think, and then mentally kick myself.
“Wow, Gina.”
“Yeah, I know. The guys are going trip over themselves to get your digits.” She pushes me back in the chair. “Especially one boy in particular.” She sniffles. Still has a cold or allergies, it seems. “I got the scoop for you, by the way.”
I turn to face her. “The scoop?”
“Yeah, the scoop about Hottie TA.” She spritzes some of my curls with hair spray.
I clear my throat. “And?”
I don’t want to give anything away. He doesn’t seem to know me, so I’m going to pretend I don’t know anything about him. Like the fact that he used to sleep with a nightlight. Or that he would tickle my back so, so gently while we listened to music. His favorite band was The Cure, and he said he wanted to be a poet when he grew up.
Once he wrote me a poem. My aunt threw it away, but I have it memorized.
You make me laugh.
I’m torn in half.
When I’m with you I feel whole.
I’ll never let you go.
That’s the Kyle I remember. Sweet. Kind. Caring.
Ass-grabbing Kyle doesn’t even register, but I know it’s him, a version of him I don’t understand, but still, it’s him. Plus, apparently he has no idea who I am.
“Earth to Maddie. Come in, Maddie.” Gina snaps her fingers in front of my face.
“Oh, sorry,” I say, and smile. “Thanks again for fixing me up. I love the dress, though the shoes make me wobbly.”
She sniffles. “You’re welcome.” She shrugs. “Now do you want the scoop or not?”
“Sure,” I say, standing. Following Gina to the door.
It’s ten-thirty at night. The perfect time to get the party started, according to Gina. I have to admit I’m excited about drinking alcohol again. The liquid is warmth and peace. It’s numbness, and feeling everything good. It makes me bold.
“His name is Kyle Hadley,” she begins.
That I already know.
“He’s a sophomore, and apparently Bitchy Spears thinks he’s a genius.”
I didn’t know that. Maybe he still writes poetry.
Her eyes meet mine. “He’s kind of a slut.” She raises an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if you think that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” She snickers.
“It’s…” I shrug. I have no idea what to say.
She continues, “And word is, he likes the kinky stuff.”
“What?” My eyes blink several times. “What do you mean by ‘kinky?’ “
“Shit, roomie. Have you been living in a nunnery? Whips. Handcuffs. Hell, I don’t know. There are several levels of kink.”
I open my mouth. Close it. My heart is pounding. Handcuffs? Whips? I’m way out of my league. My brain can’t even attach those things to making love. If that’s what Kyle wants, then he’ll never be interested in me.
Which is what you want,
I tell myself. But the desire spreading through my belly suggests I might be willing to learn. If Kyle were to show me.
“No, I haven’t lived in a nunnery.”
Not quite. My home life is sort
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