Page 137 of Anarchy at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 4)
Oscar is standing there with his iPad in hand, but when he looks up, I can see that he’s dreading this just as much as I am.
I think about what he said to me the night of the murder mystery party. “I’m sorry that I’m not good at this, Bernadette.” There are so many things between us that need to be said, so many things that I’m dying to know.
“We should talk,” I say, before I lose my nerve. Oscar turns his head slowly to look at me, but at least he doesn’t snap back with some overly defensive bullshit. We stare at each other as his white glasses slide down his nose and he fixes them with a single finger. His middle one, of course, because how could he possibly not be a dick for two seconds?
“Since I'm sure Victor will be spending most of his time this weekend with Trinity …” Oscar leans in close to me, trailing his inked fingers down the length of my arm. The move is casual, not unexpected between lovers, but this is Oscar we’re talking about. Nothing he does is casual. He’s nothing if not a man of careful calculations and purposeful intent. That, and I'm sure I could live a thousand lives, die a thousand deaths, and I would never forget what he told me, why he doesn’t like to be touched. You know how he did it; he tried to strangle me. “You'll have plenty of free time to spend chatting with me.”
He draws his hand back suddenly, staring down at it with a sharp frown, like he isn't sure why he touched me in the first place.
Oscar takes off for the bus, leaving me alone with Aaron. I glance over to find him watching me, his face contemplative but peaceful. That’s a bit of a surprise for me to see, considering we just sent our girls away.
“How are you not freaking out?” I ask, reaching both hands up to adjust the high pony I've gathered my hair into. “About the girls, I mean. It's all I can think about. Heather, at that school, with all those rich fucks …”
Aaron smiles at me, and the shape his mouth makes, it can only be described as the color of a summer sunset or a hug you didn't know you needed until warm arms wrap around you and hold you close.
“What you're doing with Heather,” he begins, stepping forward and touching his thumb to my lower lip. Even just that simple touch resurrects so many good memories for me and so many wishes for the future. That's how powerful first love can be, a transcendent force so powerful it could defy gravity itself. “Is what I wanted to do for you all along. Nantucket, remember?” Aaron winks at me to soften the blow, but he's right. He is so fucking right. Sending Heather away keeps her safe, and I'm the only one that suffers.
“Fuck,” I murmur as he chuckles at me. “You're right, I know you're right, but that doesn't make it any easier.”
Aaron leans down toward me, brushing his sweet mouth across mine, smelling like sandalwood and roses and future hope.
“It should,” he whispers, moving his lips from my mouth to my cheek and then pressing a gentle kiss there. “Because it means you've learned to truly put somebody else first. You miss Heather, but she's in the best possible place she could be. You kept her safe by sacrificing your time together. It's not an easy thing to do.” Aaron pauses and looks up, running his tongue along his lower lip as he notices Trinity glaring at us from her position near the bus. “Pretty sure we’re making everyone late,” he says with another laugh, one that very clearly says I don’t give a shit if we are.
Oak Valley Prep students might like schedules and punctuality, but Prescott students just play shit by ear. We do things on our own fucking timeline. After all, we operate assuming ours is shorter than other people’s.
“Well,” I start with a roll of my eyes, letting Aaron take my hand in his good one and pull me toward the bus. “You wouldn't want to inconvenience any of Oak Valley Prep’s finest.”
We move carefully across the icy driveway as Trinity mutters something under her breath and climbs onto the bus ahead of us.
Everyone stares at us from their seats, dressed in designer clothes and looking like they're on their way to a movie set instead of a rustic lodge on the outskirts of the city.
I stare right back at them, this strange chasm opening up between us that promises me we have absolutely nothing in common. These students, they might as well be from a different planet. I’d probably have more in common with an alien from Mars than I do with the student body of Oak Valley.
