“Really?” he asks, that caustic burn in his voice taking on a different note. It occurs to me that every insult he’s ever thrown my way—from moment fucking one—has been a defensive technique, something to keep me at arm’s length. He wants me. He has since the first second he laid eyes on me.
And vice versa.
I’m no innocent in all of this.
“Really,” I repeat, and then I give him another squeeze and he groans, pressing his mouth to mine with a surge of heat that reminds me of that ember in my belly, the one that flames every time he’s around. Gamer Girl in love with her stepbrother. Aghh! I promised I wouldn’t let myself do this, fall for him or … whatever it is that I feel for him.
I’m not sure how much further we might’ve gotten if Chasm hadn’t opened the door and caught us.
I must not have inherited Tess’ ability to write because when I see the look on Chasm’s face, words fail me. In some small way, I feel like I betrayed him. Or let him down. Or …
“Are you two fucking nuts?!” he growls out, slamming the door and putting his back to it. “Tess is on her way up here.”
Parrish stumbles back like he’s been punched, putting as much distance between me and him as he can before he stops moving. He’s looking at me, not Chasm, but his attention snaps over to the door as soon as a knock sounds on the other side.
The knob jiggles, and I hear Tess’ strained voice from the hallway.
“I’m allowing Chasm to continue your tutoring sessions even though you’re grounded, but I want you both downstairs.” A brief pause as she waits for us to unlock the door. Chasm keeps it closed, staring at me with an impossible expression as I swipe my hands over my hair and shove my sweatshirt sleeve across my mouth to hide the slightly wet, swollen nature of it. “Unlock this door now.”
Her voice brooks no argument, so when I nod, Chasm opens it without hesitation.
Seeing Parrish in the room with us calms her down a beat which makes me feel … either gleeful or guilty, I’m not sure. The piece of my soul that’s hurting makes me want to hurt her more, tell her that I kissed her precious son. The real me knows that it isn’t a very good idea. I don’t want to make Tess angry; I just want her to stop hurting me.
“Get your schoolwork and head downstairs; this isn’t a ‘hangout’.” She makes single quotes with her fingers, and I bite my lip to resist rolling my eyes. Tess looks at me for a moment, but she doesn’t apologize or even mention our fight downstairs. It’s such a sharp, harsh contrast from the way things are handled in the Banks household. Sometimes we fight and cry and yell, and sometimes that goes on for a while, but we always come back to it. We never just drop it. What good does that do, to pretend the problem’s gone away? “Parrish.”
“I heard you,” he snaps back, shoving his fingers through his hair and then giving her a look like he regrets saying that. Tess turns back to me briefly, but I won’t look at her. Instead, I focus on my feet like they’re the only things in the room.
“I’ll get you a new phone tomorrow,” she tells me, all matter of fact, like she didn’t destroy the slightly outdated but still super freaking important to me phone that Maxine pitched in to buy last year. Luckily for Tess, I have everything set to upload to the cloud, but what if I didn’t? What if she’d just destroyed months or years of precious memories? “But you’ll only be allowed to have it during the school day, in case of emergency. Otherwise, it’s mine.”
I grit my teeth as she turns on her heel and clacks her way back down the hall to her office.
Good.
I hope she writes about this. Maybe then she can reflect on what a bitch she’s being.
“Lucky you, a Tess-provided phone,” Parrish says, his voice quiet and strange. I lift my head up to look at him but he’s staring out at the lake, bored and apathetic and His Great Majesty of Sloths, like he didn’t just kiss me and grab my tit and … oh my fucking god, did I just let him—encourage him—to grab my tit?! “Be careful. She’ll get in there and snoop through everything.” Parrish turns his face back to look at me. “She’ll track you.”
Seriously? Seriously?! He’s doing exactly what Tess was just doing—acting like what just happened means nothing. And I hate that. I hate that more than anything in the world. Emotions matter. They’re sticky. They don’t just dissipate like water on hot pavement.
