Impossible (12 page)

Then came the other issue. Where was I going to sit? I turned around and surveyed the room while trying to figure out who sat where. There weren’t many people who I knew in my History class. It had never crossed my mind to socialize with people outside of my circle. In hindsight, that was probably a big mistake.

Sometime during my humiliation, Luca and his friends had walked in. It was pretty embarrassing that someone like Luca had friends, but I didn’t. Luca’s gaze flickered towards me, but he quickly looked away.

Ignoring him, I headed straight to the front of the room where a guy called Winston was sitting. The only reason I knew his name was because he was always winning awards for various academic achievements. Winston was a chubby boy with lots of acne and thick-rimmed glasses. Sometimes another guy sat with him, but today he was alone.

“Is this seat taken?” I asked, flipping my hair over my shoulder.

Winston peered up from his textbook regarded me with uninterested eyes. “It looks pretty empty to me.”

“Can I sit here?” I chewed my lip as he studied me.

“Yes, I suppose you can.” Winston promptly went back to reading his text book, and ignored me as I got my things out of my bag.

Once I was settled, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Luca watching me intently. Beside him sat Stacey and his other friend with the tattoos, whose name I couldn’t remember. His friend said something to Stacey who smirked at me.

Great. Now Luca’s friends were ridiculing me. Sure, they’d probably made fun of me before, but back then I’d had people to back me up. Now it was open season on me. I sank lower in my seat and wished this class was over already.

My plans of wanting to get on Kance’s good side were obviously not going to work. I had to think of another strategy.

***

Detention was a lot busier than it had been the day before. At the pep rally someone had switched around the music for the cheer squad to something highly inappropriate. The culprits had been caught, and the three of them sat a few rows behind me.

As for Luca, once again, he took the table directly behind mine. I tried not to react to his presence, but it was pretty hard not to when he was practically breathing down my neck.

Mr. Kowalski stayed in the room for the first thirty minutes, but eventually wandered off when he thought we were all busy with our homework. The second he was gone, Luca kicked my chair.

I didn’t get why he wanted to talk to me. The things I’d said to him last night had been downright mean. At the time, my primary emotion had been anger and I’d wanted to lash out at anyone, and everyone, that tried to help me. It was better if we didn’t speak. That way, I wouldn’t say things that I’d regret.

Trying my best to ignore him, I continued working on the English essay that was due on Friday. Homework was the last thing on my mind, but I was already a failed cheerleader and I didn’t want to add anything else to my list of failures.

Luca kicked my chair again, and my pen slipped and made a long squiggle across the page. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?

Without a word, I gathered up my things and stomped over to a desk on the other side of the room. I wanted to be as far away from him as I could get. As I set down my stuff, Luca got up and followed me across the room, dragging his bag along the floor.

He slipped into the desk behind me. Then he kicked my chair. Again. “Are we playing musical chairs?”

I was gripping my pen so hard I thought it would snap in half. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Why? Because you feel guilty for all the crap you said to me last night?”

I turned in my seat to find him studying me in amusement. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Because you entertain me.”

“I’m not a clown. I’m not here to entertain you.”

His lips turned up in a crooked smile. “You could be. You do have pretty big feet.”

I resisted the urge to punch him in the face. “You are so annoying! Can you just leave me alone?” I sounded more desperate then I did angry.

“Answer my question first.” He rolled up the sleeves of his jacket. “Do you feel guilty?”

I shrugged, my eyes glued to the complex network of his tattoos. “I don’t know.”

“I can tell how full of remorse you are,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “So, that History lesson was something, huh? Those facts about the Cold War blew my mind.”

“Are you trying to say something?”

Luca began fiddling with his sleeve. “How did it feel being one of us?”

My eyes narrowed at his brashness. “Excuse me?”

He glanced up. “You know, being a freak, a loser?”

“I am not a loser. I’m nothing like you.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m not,” I insisted, and pointed at his bare arm. “I look nothing like you, and I certainly don’t have hundreds of tattoos on my body. I don’t get why you would get them in the first place.”

Luca was quiet as he stared down at his arm. Finally, he pushed it towards me and jabbed a finger onto the skin. “See for yourself.”

Intrigued, I leaned closer, and stared at where he’d pointed. All I could see were spidery black spirals that made no sense to me. Squinting, I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. What I’d thought were nonsensical markings at first, were actually words. Well, actually a name. A name that was achingly familiar.

Grant Byron. Luca’s dad.

All this time I’d thought Luca was stupid and reckless for getting his body tattooed, yet I’d never bothered to understand what the reason for it was. I was royally stupid and ignorant. Still, it didn’t excuse him for his sense of fashion.

“Fine, the tattoos make sense, but your hair and make-up and black clothing don’t. So don’t put me in the same category as you.”

Luca’s brows were knitted together, and he scowled. “So, what if I look like this? I could change my appearance tomorrow, but it still has nothing to do with anyone. I dress the way I like, and I look the way I want to.”

Pursing my lips together, I turned back to the front, done with the conversation. “Then enjoy being a freak your whole life.”

Ashton

The noise from a lawnmower woke me from my sleep. Groaning, I rolled over and stared at my bedside clock with bleary eyes. 7:13 A.M? Who in their right mind would cut grass this early on a Saturday morning? Hadn’t they heard of something called sleeping in?

Somehow, I managed to get out of bed without tripping over my sheets. The sun shone into my room and, across from my window, Luca’s blinds were drawn. Trust him to be able to sleep through all this noise.

I headed along the corridor and peered out the window that overlooked our front yard, hoping to catch a glimpse of the annoying neighbor who’d disturbed my sleep. My mouth fell open when I saw our grass was being cut…by someone absolutely gorgeous. His back was turned to me, so all I could make out was dark brown hair and a tanned, muscular back, but holy hell was this a great way to wake up on a Saturday. Mom must’ve finally hired someone to mow the lawn, but did it really have to be at this ungodly hour?

“Mom!” I cried as I stomped downstairs, cursing the world.

Mom was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. She peered at me over the top of her newspaper and ‘tsked’. “Ash, will you keep it down? I just got your brother to bed an hour ago. He was up all night with an ear ache.”

“I was trying to sleep too, but I got woken up by that racket.” I gesticulated wildly with my hands. “I mean, the guy’s pretty cute, but still!”

Mom raised an eyebrow. “Did you actually see him?”

“Only from the back, and what a nice back it was.”

A smile formed on mom’s lips which confused me. What was she all happy about? Not that I was complaining. It was nice to get a genuine smile from her after the whole Elly debacle. I guess I’d made it a lot worse by fighting with her and blaming her for all my problems, but I really wanted to get past it.

“Why don’t you take a pitcher of lemonade out to him?” Mom suggested, “I’m sure he must be thirsty.”

“Why not
?” I shrugged. “I
t’s not like I can get back to sleep.”

Grabbing the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge and a glass from the cupboard, I slipped on my flip-flops and opened up the front door. Sunlight streamed directly into my vision and I squinted, shading my eyes with a hand.
Septembers in Statlen usually varied in temperature. Some days it was cool and other days, like today, it felt like we were in the middle of summer.

My eyes wandered around the yard and I saw that m
ost of the grass had been
cut and there was
just the edges around the fence left to do The guy was bent over the lawn mower and hadn’t noticed me, but I noticed something about him. Something that unsettled me.

He had a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm.

No way. There was no way that could be
him
. “H-hello?” I called out tentatively, still not sure what I was seeing.

He stood up and my mouth dropped open. Oh, sweet baby Jesus. It
was
him.

Luca Byron was standing shirtless on my front lawn with beads of sweat dripping down his rock hard abs. I mean, they looked rock hard. It’s not like I’d touched them before but, boy, did I want to. What was even stranger was that he looked, well, normal.

For starters, his hair was brown, not black. He must have dyed it back to its actual color, and it wasn’t spiked up like a porcupine. His hair looked soft and just fell into his eyes—he’d also gotten a haircut. There was no black eyeliner around his eyes either. He looked…there were no words to describe how he looked. I was blown away.

Luca tilted his head to the side and walked towards me slowly. “Is that for me?”

“Huh?” My brain wasn’t working. I couldn’t recall what I’d come out here to do.

“The lemonade. Is it for me? I’m pretty thirsty.” He stopped right in front of me and folded his arms across his chest, making the muscles in his arms bulge.

Oh. My. God. I was going to have to take back everything I’d ever said about Luca Byron. He was gorgeous, he was hot, and he was sexy. How? How could such small changes to his appearance have such a big impact on the way he looked? I mean, yeah, he’d always been good looking, but the rocker look had kind of obscured that. And those muscles, that body, those abs…where had they come from?

“Ashton,” he said, a smirk on his lips. “If you keep looking at me like that then I’m gonna have to do something about it.”

My face flushed red hot, and I quickly handed him the glass. He watched me closely as I poured the lemonade into it, my hand shaking the entire time. Luca was having such a profound effect on me that I couldn’t even manage something as simple as pouring.

He quickly downed the glass and I refilled it, trying to get my shakes under control. At one point, Luca covered my hand with his to control the shaking, and I thought I was going to pass out from his proximity to me.

When he’d had a third glass, he handed it back to me and pulled his shirt from where he’d tucked it into the back of his jeans. His green eyes glinted as he wiped the sweat from his chest, his eyes never leaving mine. Not once did I look away—I don’t think I was capable of moving—and he seemed to be enjoying the attention I was giving him.

He stuck the shirt in the back of his jeans, a smile playing around his mouth.

“You haven’t said a word.” He leaned in closer until his lips were inches away from mine. “That’s not like you at all. Normally, you’d be calling me a freak by now. Are you sick?”

“Um…” Come on! I had to get a hold on myself. This was getting ridiculous. “I’m…just surprised, that’s all. What happened to the crazy hair and the ugly clothes?”

Luca shrugged. “It was time for a change. Why? Is it bothering you?” There was a playful hint to his voice, and I could tell he was teasing me. He was probably loving my reaction.

“No, why would it bother me?” I snapped.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you like what you see.”

“I do not!” I argued, but judging from his broadening grin, I could tell I didn’t sound too convincing. Time for a change of subject. “Why are you cutting our grass anyway?”

“Just being a good Samaritan.”

“Uh huh,” I said, not wanting to buy into this whole “good guy” act for a second. “And is this something that you devil worshippers do for fun?”

He seemed amused that I’d called him a devil worshipper. “Yeah, every full moon. Then we go and sacrifice lambs and use their blood to…”

“Ugh, you’re disgusting!” I cut him off, not wanting to hear anymore.

“You started it,” he said and jabbed me on the collarbone. His finger lingered there and I shivered. “Is that what gets you in the mood? Pretty kinky.”

He laughed as I shot him daggers and stormed back inside, splashing lemonade everywhere as I went. Did he have to be so damn annoying and hot at the same time? Ugh! And I’d just thought he was hot! Kill me now!