Page 24 of Tainted Love

We slowly inch closer until we’re nose to nose, and I can smell the mint and soda on his warm breath. Michael stops, and I inch forward just a millimeter more and close my eyes when the softest pressure of his lips graze mine. Then they stop, and my eyes fly open as those lips fall into the wide smile of laughter, and Michael’s Jolt cola breath sprays on my face.

“I can’t do it, man,” he laughs, looking back at his friends. “I tried. But I can’t.”

They are all howling with laughter now. Laughter about kissing me. It’s almost like I was a dare he couldn’t complete. It’s mortifying.

Hot tears sting the back of my eyes. My throat feels tight since my heart is currently caught in it. Everyone is either laughing at me or looking at me with pity. I’m not going to cry in front of these douchebags. I close down the emotion whirling through my body like a Kansas tornado and carefully stand, pivot, and walk away.

I’m Sascha fucking Bell. I will not show these losers how I’m affected. But one thing is for sure.

Michael Tazman is dead to me.

PART TWO

"Growing Pains"

Chapter 11

“Just What I Needed”

Taz - Age 18, 1988

On the first day of school, I slide out of my truck and meet the boys in the parking lot. Even though it’s early, the September sun beats down on me, making me thankful for my choice of baseball cap and shades. “What are we looking at?” I ask, squinting into the distance over Delzy’s shoulder.

“Why is Landry talking to that freak?” Tiffany sneers, her neon orange fingernails tapping impatiently against her ugly-ass designer purse. I glance in the direction they’re looking in and see Landry approaching a girl who stands out among the sea of students. She’s definitely new. I would’ve remembered her. She’s a stone-cold fox with long blonde hair that falls down her back and a hot pink dress that hugs her curves in just the right places. Way to go, Landry. I’m proud of him.

“Who? The blonde bombshell with the banging body over there?” Garrison teases. “Are you jealous, Tiff?”

“As if,” she responds with an eye roll and a jut of her hip. Tiffany may be fine, but she’s mad-annoying. Usually, I can tune out these hockey groupies, but today, I’m running on very little sleep and a bad attitude that’s only worsening by the second.

Delzy’s eyes narrow. “Who is she?”

Tiffany’s voice drips with venom as she replies, “That’s Ivy Owens.” She looks at Garrison and me as if we’re supposed to know what in the hell she’s talking about. My confusion is evident as I raise my eyebrows in a silent plea for an explanation.

“I can’t believe you guys don’t remember her,” Tiffany continues, her tone holding a mixture of disbelief and disgust. “She was kidnapped when we were, like, thirteen, on the way to school. It wasn’t far from here.” Memories start to bubble up from the depths of my mind, but I can’t grasp them fully.

“Oh shit,” Garrison interrupts with a gasp. “I remember now.” A sick feeling churns in my stomach as I recall the news reports and search parties that had gone out looking for Ivy all those years ago. But my own problems at the time had consumed me, leaving no room for anything else.

Landry trudges back to the group, his head hung low and a defeated slope to his shoulders. Delzy’s teasing voice breaks through the silence. “How’d it go, loverboy?”

Landry lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head slowly. “Crashed and burned.”

Tiffany chimes in with an opinion no one asked for. “It’s probably for the best. Going anywhere near that girl is social suicide.”

Garrison confidently declares his interest. “Maybe I’ll give it a shot. The girl is smokin’. Plus, I could use a challenge.”

A laugh escapes me at his cockiness, but deep down, he’s not wrong. We all have our fair share of attention from the girls around here.

“You’re disgusting,” Tiffany adds with a sneer. “She’s not even cute.”

That girl is a babe. No wonder the girls around here are threatened. I question briefly if I’d also strike out with her, but Delzy can’t take his eyes off her. I know what that means. I’ll be nothing more than a wingman for my best friend on this one.

After a few minutes of chatting, we make our way inside. A few of the guys from the hockey team are filling us in on the latest from their recent training camp.

Delzy and I are a dynamic duo on the ice, playing for the Junior Hockey League team, the Merrimack Mavericks. The stakes are higher, and the competition is fiercer as we strive to make it beyond high school and into professional hockey. Endless days of training and traveling consume our lives during the season. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

We generally play on the same line, and as good friends, our chemistry is unmatched. Our coach anticipates college teams will scout both of us. I may be overly confident, but I predict we will successfully reach the NHL.

Neither of our paths has been easy. Growing up in a nearby town without a consistent father figure, Delzy faced plenty of challenges. He’s a latchkey kid like me, but he grew up poor. Somehow, he persevered with determination and grit. His mother eventually remarried a wealthy car dealership owner, who relocated them here right after I moved back.