Lust - 1 (21 page)

And that’s who I am,
she reminded herself, I am that girl.

“I’m sorry,” he final y said, breaking the silence.

“I want to apologize,” she sputtered at the same time.

And that was al it took.

They spoke at once, the words spil ing out hesitantly, their words overlapping, their voices growing in speed and strength as they decided where they were going, drowning each other out in their eagerness to get there.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I’ve been horrible.”

“I should have cal ed—”

“I just wanted to say—”

“I missed you—”

“I love you—”

They stammered, and babbled, and then, final y, they embraced.

Adam held her tight, breathing in the fresh, clean scent of her hair. Thinking,
She can never find out
.

Beth dug her fingers into his flesh, wishing she would never have to let go. Deciding,
He can never know
.

They stayed like that, frozen in the empty hal way, for several long minutes, leaning on each other. Two minds with a single, desperate thought:
This time, I’ll make it work. This
time, I have to
.

She was lying in bed, stumbling haplessly through her math homework, when she heard it. His car, pul ing into the driveway, a loud rumbling and clinking that could belong to no one but Bertha the beat-up Chevy. She would know it anywhere.

Harper flipped the book shut and leaped to her feet, creeping over to the window—there was nothing wrong with taking a quick look at him, she told herself. Just because she wasn’t speaking to him (not that he’d seemed to notice—it probably didn’t even count as the silent treatment if she hadn’t actual y seen him face-to-face yet and had the chance to snub him) didn’t mean she couldn’t watch from afar, just to see what he was doing.Who he was with.

The car pul ed to a stop and Adam jumped out, walked slowly around to the passenger’s side, and held the door open. A blond head appeared, and he put his arm around her waist.

Harper couldn’t actual y make out the girl’s face from her perch, but who needed to? She should have guessed this would happen. Adam and Beth walked together up the pathway toward the front door, his hand stil resting on her back, her head against his shoulder. Harper couldn’t bring herself to look away. He unlocked his front door, but they paused before stepping inside—Adam cradled Beth’s face in his hands and turned it up toward him. And they kissed.

That was more than enough.

Harper shut her blinds in disgust and flung herself back down on the bed.This was getting ridiculous. First she had to watch Adam getting it on with Kaia in public, right in front of her—on
her
date, no less. Then, just when she’d final y decided to embrace the silver lining (i.e., the imminent demise of Beth and Adam’s lovers’ paradise), he pul s into his driveway and heads inside with Little Miss Perfect herself in tow.

Was Adam hooking up with everyone in town but Harper?

It was beginning to feel that way.

“Remember when we used to play GI Joes out here?” Adam asked lazily, lying back on the large, flat rock and staring up at the stars.

So he hadn’t apologized. So what? After a few days Harper’s anger had burned down to a low simmer, and with Beth back in the picture and Kaia up to God knows what, Harper didn’t have time to waste sulking in a corner. If she was going to win Adam, she was going to have to get in the game.
Besides,
she thought, looking fondly over at her oldest friend, lying next to her on the cool granite,
it was Adam
. Too dense to realize he’d done something wrong, so what was even the point in making him feel guilty? Especial y when he cal ed out of the blue with a mysterious request to meet him outside, at
their
place, to talk about some “stuff.” When he needed her, she was there—that’s just how it worked.

“I remember when
I
used to play GI Joes while
you
spent most of your time with my Barbie col ection,” Harper teased him.

“Hey, Barbie was hot!” Adam protested.

Harper rol ed her eyes. “Right, and
that’s
why you used to beg me to let you dress her up and drive her around in the Barbie Corvette.” She propped herself up slightly to give him a close look at her skeptical expression. “You just keep tel ing yourself that.”

“I slept with her, Harper.”

She froze, stil facing him, and it took every ounce of strength she had to keep her face stil . No eyes widening in shock or horror, no mouth turning down in disappointment, no tears or tel tale blushing—she just looked at him steadily and concentrated on remembering to breathe.

“Who, Barbie?” she asked, narrowly managing to keep her voice light. She let some of the tension leach out of her muscles and sank back onto the smooth surface of the rock.

“Kaia. I’m serious, Harper. I slept with her.” He made a strange keening noise, half between a groan and a yelp. “What the hel am I supposed to do now?”
Get yourself checked out for STDs?

But Harper bit back the comment and was glad for the darkness—it gave her a place to hide.

So he’d slept with her. At least now she knew.

Though she wished she didn’t.

“So that’s why we’re out here?” Harper asked. Though she’d suspected as much. The rock bridged the boundary line between their two smal backyards and had been a favorite spot for years—it was here that he’d told her, just after moving to town, that his parents were divorced, here that she’d confessed her seventh-grade terror of having no friends, here that, at twelve, they’d shared their first kiss. It was where they ran to when they needed to run away, where their most terrible secrets lived. It was their place, the only thing in the world they truly owned—and they owned it together.

But they hadn’t needed their rock in a long time.

“Wel , what do you want to do?” she asked simply.

“That’s al you’re going to say?” He rubbed his eyes furiously, like a little boy trying to rub out his tears. “Don’t you want to tel me what a disgusting pig I am, or something?”

“I think I’l let Beth have that honor, if she ever finds out.” And Harper almost immediately began sifting through her options—maybe she could play this to her advantage after al .

If she could find the right angle, if little Bethie heard the news in just the right way è

“Oh God,” Adam gasped, his voice fil ed with horror. “Do you think she wil ? What am I saying, of course she wil . And then è”

“Adam, chil out,” Harper advised, trying to keep her voice steady. “She probably won’t find out—I’m obviously not going to tel her, Kaia has no reason to tel her—and I assume you’re not going to tel her?”

Though the spineless brat would probably take about five seconds to forgive you,
Harper thought with disgust.

“God, no. Unless—should I? Harper, I’m so screwed up. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“So, like I said, what do you
want
to do?” Harper repeated. “Bal ’s in your court, Ad.”

She shivered. It was a cold night, a brisk wind blowing through the yard, and she was dressed in only cords and a lacy tank top. Before she could even say anything—not that she would have said anything, nothing could have forced her to interrupt
this
train of thought—Adam pul ed off his sweatshirt and tossed it to her. Beneath it, she noticed, he was wearing a vintage Transformers T-shirt she’d bought him for his birthday last year.

“What I want?” he mused, as Harper zipped herself into the cozy red fleece. “I want to go back to the beginning of the year and start over, do everything different.”

“Not an option,” she pointed out. “Try again.”

He was silent for a moment, and Harper wondered whether it was time for her to take a harder line. If he didn’t know what he wanted, wel , maybe she should just enlighten him.

“Remember when I kissed you out here?” he asked suddenly.

“Barely,” she said casual y, hoping he couldn’t hear the heartbeat pounding in her ears. “Our braces got stuck together and you accidental y stuck your tongue up my nose—but other than that, it was a success.”

They laughed quietly together.

“Everything was easier then,” Adam final y said softly, his voice almost carried away on the wind. “I miss it—you and me, just having fun, being together.”

“We hated it,” Harper reminded him. “We were bored out of our minds. We just wanted to grow up.”

Adam sighed. “Yeah, and look where that got us.”

Harper watched his silhouette in the moonlight and then, because it felt right, and because she wasn’t scared anymore, she took his hand. His fingers curled around hers, and she squeezed his hand gently. He gave her a quick squeeze back. They lay together on the rock, side by side, connected. She hadn’t felt so close to him in a long time. This was it. This was her moment.

“Adam, maybe—maybe it’s not supposed to be so hard,” she suggested hesitantly. “Maybe being with Beth should be
easy
. Maybe if it’s not—wel , maybe you don’t real y want to be with her. Maybe you want—”

He pul ed his hand away from hers and sat up.

“That’s not what I was saying at al , Harper,” he said hotly. But the sudden anger, the quick retort—maybe, Harper realized, he knew she was right. “I
love
her,” he insisted. “It’s not supposed to be easy.”

“I know … but this?” she pushed. “Fighting al the time? Sleeping with someone else? You have to admit—it doesn’t real y sound like a good, healthy relationship.”

“So we’re going through a bad time,” he protested—and from the look on his face, she wondered if she’d gone a step too far. “You don’t just walk away when things are tough.”

“Adam, I just—”

“Or maybe that’s what
you
do,” he said scornful y, leaping off the rock. “And maybe that’s why you’re always alone.You’re so used to being alone, I don’t even think you realize it

—but maybe if you did, you wouldn’t even care.” He turned his back on her and walked inside.

Harper lay on the rock, perfectly stil , watching the stars and listening to the silence of the night. She pul ed Adam’s sweatshirt tightly around her and breathed in the smel of him, stil lingering on the soft fleece.

She did know, better than anyone. And she cared.

There are times when a girl just needs to be alone.

This was not one of them.

Harper hit the speed dial and waited impatiently for Miranda to pick up the phone. Final y, on the fourth ring, just when she’d almost given up hope, salvation arrived.

“911, Miranda,” she said, by way of greeting. “This is an emergency situation. We’re going out.”

“Harper, I’ve got a test tomorrow, I’ve got to study, I—”

Harper wasn’t listening. She was too busy digging through her closet, searching. She needed the perfect outfit for a feel-good, look-better night on the town. And there it was.

Spangled tube top—green, to match her eyes; skintight miniskirt—black, to match her mood. The strappy silver stiletto heels she never got the chance to wear. And a black beaded choker, to dress her naked neck. She pul ed her hair back into a loose, low chignon, making sure that a few curly tendrils hung down over her eyes. It was a definite look. A little sweet, a little sassy; slightly slutty, but not too skanky. Basical y—hot. Maybe a little out of place in the low-rent nightlife options Grace provided her, but if she got whistled at by some drunken trucker or hit on by a Hel ’s Angel, wel , so much the better. It would be a reminder that plenty of people out there wanted her—more than half the high school, for one (99 percent of the male half, with a few alterna-females thrown in for good measure, or so she’d been told). And tonight, she could use al the reminders she could get.

Miranda was stil babbling on about a test, and some bio lab that needed to be written up.

“Miranda, listen to me,” Harper cut in impatiently. “SOS. Seriously, drop what you’re doing—were going out.” It took some persuading, some wheedling, and eventual y a promise from Harper that she would treat Miranda to a manicure in time for the formal that weekend and would finish burning al the CDs for the after party on her own. Stil , Miranda hedged—it was late, she was tired, she was in her pajamas, her parents would be suspicious. …