Betwixt, Before, Beyond (21 page)

Chapter
Seven

I haven't spoken to my parents since last night. Dad tried to open my door, but I jammed it shut so it wouldn't budge. I even sat on the floor, leaning against it in case he tried a little harder. I was steaming big time. Finally, Dad gave up with a sigh and whispered, "I don't know what's going on right now, Dale, but I want you to know I'm praying for you."

Whatever!

It was all such hypocritical bullshit. I didn't want his holy behind praying for me when he has been lying to my face my entire life.

I went to bed in a black haze, hating the entire world. I didn't even bother with breakfast this morning. I wasn't ready to sit down and spew my wrath at them. They can just keep waiting for all I care. They did it to me! I mean, I'd been wondering about Mom's age for a while now. I figured she must have been a really young mother. I wasn't stupid. But
, when I asked her about it, she said she got married straight out of high school. She totally failed to mention the fact she actually got knocked up before she even graduated and was shipped up north by her disgusted parents.

Why had everyone at the table just gone along with that lie? If I think really carefully about the moment it happened
—I was eight—everyone at the table looked a little awkward and sketchy. I should have questioned them further, but when you're eight years old you trust your family implicitly. Grown-ups didn't lie.

I scoff and shake my head.
So much for that theory.

Like hell they didn't
lie; I couldn't help wondering what else they've been lying to me about. I still couldn't believe they'd roped Rachel into the deal as well. I feel so betrayed right now I want to damage something. No, I want to call my sister and unleash verbal hell.

I clamp my lips together as the school bell trills and I lope up the front steps. I'm
kinda hoping I don't bump into Hugh or Jack. They'll only question me about why I split last night. I don't feel like talking about it, because I'm still trying to figure it out.

I spot Luis down the corridor and make a quick left, weaving through the teenage traffic to get to my locker. By the time I go the long way around, the bell has rung and the hallways are practically empty.

I fling my locker open. I'm in the process of searching for the English novel I was supposed to have finished when I hear a soft sniff. I peek behind me and notice Jasmine at her locker on the opposite wall. Her shoulders are slumped, her shiny dark hair hiding her face.

I wait for another sniff to confirm she's crying before heading across to her.

"Hey, Jazz," I figure starting softly is the best way to go. "You okay?"

She nods, sniffing again and then quickly swiping at her face.

"No you're not," I said smiling. Reaching for her shoulder, I give it a gentle squeeze. She's so small and petite. I think that's why I noticed her the first time. She's probably one of the shortest people at school. Everything about her is small and perfect. I noticed her my very first day and thought she was gorgeous. I smiled at her. She smiled at me...and then her boyfriend Dwight showed up, wrapped his arm around her and made it all too clear that she was unavailable.

If she'd been free, I totally would have gone for it. She was too pretty and sweet to pass
up. I don't know where I would have found the courage from. To be honest, the fact she was off limits made it easier to get to know her. We sat together in a couple of classes and always acknowledged each other in the hall. Yeah, I'd call us friends.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I rub her arm.

"No." Her head nods.

I snicker. She looks up to reveal puffy eyes. For once in my life, I'm grateful that my mother continues to tuck a clean handkerchief into every pair of pants she washes. I used to pull it out in protest, but she's one stubborn woman. I hesitate for a second before pulling it from my pocket. I feel the heat rush to my face as I hold it out. She looks a little surprised by my grandpa move, but then her lips quiver with a smile. She takes the handkerchief with shaking fingers and delicately blows her nose. She mops up her tears and looks a little awkward as she hands it back to me.

"Don't worry about it. I never use it anyway. My mom..." I trail off, burying it in my pocket and trying not to look as humiliated as I feel.

"I won't tell." She grins. "I think it's sweet."

I give her an awkward smile as I lean against her locker. I clear my throat and soften my expression. "So...what's up?"

She sniffs and gives me a weak smile. "
Dwight's being such a dick."

"Oh bummer." Man, I so don't want to hear about her arrogant, jock boyfriend.

"He's always with his friends, and never has time for me. I know I've been with him since last year, and it's stupid to think we'd ever last. I mean he's a senior. I still don't even know why he's into me!"

"I do." I shrug with a blush.

She grins before letting out a melancholy sigh.

"When I tried to talk to him about it this morning, he just went on about how I suffocate him. I think he wants to break up with me."

"Maybe there's something else to it." Why am I sounding so encouraging? She should totally ditch that loser. "Maybe you can try talking to him the next time it's just the two of you."

"Yeah, you're probably right. I mean when we're alone, he's really sweet and attentive. I just can't seem to get him alone much anymore." Her lips wobble. "So I decided I should say my piece in front of everyone this morning
, and it was so humiliating."

I tuck her hair behind her ear and gently rub her fresh tears away with my thumb. "The guy would be a moron to dump you."

She sniffs and gives me a sweet smile. "Thanks, Dale."

Dabbing at her puffy face
with her shirt sleeve, she lets out a breath and tries to straighten her shoulders. "I must look like such a mess."

She did, but I'm not about to tell her that.

"Want to get out of here?"

A fleeting surprise rushes across her face, but it's followed by a relieved smile. "Yes."

Before she can change her mind, I take her hand. Slamming my locker shut, I snatch up my bag, and we sneak out of school.

We're giggling by the time we've raced out the back entrance and snuck through the teacher's car park. I'm not sure where to take her. I want it to be somewhere she can forget about her problems. We haven't talked much since breaching the school and walking down the road. We're still holding hands, and I love the feel of her skin against mine. I've wanted to hold her hand for a while now. I glance down at her and realize if I got the chance, I'd actually like to do a lot more than just hold her hand. She licks her lips and looks up at me.

Her eyes light with cheeky mischief as she bit
es the corner of her mouth.

"What?" I grin.

"Is it true you crashed a car last night?"

"No." I shake my head. "I didn't crash it. Jack did."

She giggles. Squeezing my hand, she pulls me to a stop and points across the road. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but do you feel like taking me for a drive...in that car."

I glance across the street and spot the sleek, silver Camaro. Would I ever! As I always do in these moments, I feel my insides f
lush with warning, but I ignore my gut instinct, and pull her across the road.

"Keep an eye out." She turns and scans the street while I reach into my bag for the tool Mason gifted me
—a Slim Jim. A few moments later, I'm clicking the door open. "Get in."

She jumps in and slumps down in her seat. I quickly hot wire the car
. The engine revs to life and Jasmine squeals with excitement. "Go, go, go!" She laughs.

The sound of her melodic delight, mixed with the rumbling engine is a heady rush. I ease out of the parking space and accelerate down the street.

We head up the mountains, and I find a great little look out. Pulling the car to a stop, we gaze down over LA before looking at each other and smiling. Jasmine gets out and jumps onto the hood of the car. I quickly follow suit, leaning against the windshield. She notices this and leans back against me, lifting my arm, so she can snuggle against my shoulder. I brush her hair back with my chin and kiss the top of her head.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah," she sighs, running her hand over my T-shirt.

"I'm really sorry you're going through a crap
py time. I know it must suck, and I know you probably don't care about my opinion, but you don't deserve to be treated like that."

"I know," she sniffs.
"But we've been together for a year and a half. I can't imagine being with someone else."

"You're with me right now.
"

She grins. "Yes, I am."

"Jazz, you need a guy who's going to treat you like a queen. You're sweet and kind, and any guy would be lucky to have you."

She looks up at me
, and I kiss her nose. A perfect smile spreads across her face. "Thank you, Dale."

I run my finger down her cheek and go to kiss her nose again, but she moves her head
, and I find my lips touching hers. They feel soft and sweet, so different from Carly's. Jasmine's lips are pliable, not demanding and filled with hungry lust. I cup the back of Jasmine's head and deepen the kiss. Her mouth opens in response, and before I can stop myself, I pull her on top of me. She doesn't resist.

Her little body pressing against mine makes me forget all my regrets from the night before. Man, I want this girl
, and if she'd let me, I'd have her right here and now.

I glide my hands up her tight thighs
; her soft skin is driving me crazy. I wiggle my fingers beneath her skirt, pushing it up her legs as I go.

She pulls back with a little gasp
, and I quickly retreat.

"Sorry," I mumble. "You're just so beautiful." I touch the side of her face, running my fingers
through her hair. I can sense her hesitation and am about to lift her off me, but then she smiles and leans towards me.

"No, this is good. You're making me feel better."

In other words, I'm a good distraction. I know this thought should sting, but I'm too amped to care right now. My body is demanding things my brain can't counter. I decide I'll analyze it later as I pull Jasmine's shirt over her head and quickly unclasp her bra.

The cool breeze whistles against our skin. I can tell Jasmine must have done this before. She seems to know how it goes and isn't nervous. Her moans of pleasure tell me she's into it. I take my time, using some of the tricks Carly taught me. Jasmine is practically begging for it
, by the time I finally satisfy her.

As always
, I feel the heady rush that comes with this moment, but this time it's amplified. We are out in the open, on a sunny day, doing it on the hood of a stolen car. I want to laugh with triumph. Not to mention the fact, I'm having sex with Jasmine, who I've liked for a long time now.

Her sweet gasps of pleasure make me feel like a man as we finish. I lay my head back against the windshield as she slumps against my naked chest. Her hands glide up my torso
, and we stay that way in blissful silence...and then I hear her sniff.

I jerk up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she whispers.

A few hot tears kiss my skin and
I want to groan. What now?

"I just...I mean I can't believe...I just cheated on Dwight."

Way to kill the moment, Jazz.

I gently lift her off me and turn away to get myself sorted. Man, I am such an asshole! Thankfully
, I remembered to use protection this time, so that was one less thing to worry about, but it doesn't even matter. As I zip my jeans and throw on my shirt, I feel like total shit. I made one of the sweetest girls I know cheat on her boyfriend, not to mention the fact I cheated on Carly. Somehow that doesn't seem as important.

Once again
, I'd let sex rule the moment, and I hated myself for it.

"Come on," I say quietly. "I'll take you back to school."

She straightens her shirt and tucks her hair back, unable to look at me as she slides into the car.

We drive back in silence. I want to apologize, but can't quite
form the words. I mean, yeah, I really wanted her, but it's not like I forced her to do anything. I was ready to stop, but she kept things going. She was the one who put the condom on me! She was the one who pleaded with me to satisfy her. I only did what she asked me to do.

I want to thump the wheel in disgust as I pull into the parking spot. I use my shirt to wipe down the steering wheel and handles. Hopefully
, the person wouldn't even notice it was gone, but that's not the point.

Jasmine and I creep away from the car and morosely walk back to school.

The school is in sight when I finally mutter, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let things get that far."