Page 58 of Spite

I turned, heading up the bleachers, sitting in the corner on the tallest row, far enough away from everyone. I leaned back on the wall, closing my eyes. Even though the gym was full of sounds, I was in my own little bubble, drowning in my own misery.

Was this really the state of my life? How did I get here? Did I do something to deserve this? Before it all started, years upon years ago, I was a good kid. I listened to my parents, never acted out in school, never once thought about doing anything bad. I was the poster girl for sainthood. Now? Now everything was just a mess, and I felt too tired to try to clean it up.

Funny how one sentence—Diane is pregnant—could break me like this, wasn’t it?

Time was a haze. All too soon, the game was over, and everyone was clapping that we won. I kept my eyes shut, afraid that I would cry or do something equally as embarrassing if I opened them. I knew I’d have to get up and leave like everyone else, but…just five more minutes.

Five more minutes, and then…then I guess I’d put myself back together, put on a brave face, and walk home. Apologize to my dad and Diane, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do.

Just five more minutes.

The bleachers started to shake, as if a stampede was headed my way. That, or someone obscenely large was moving toward me. I opened my eyes, finding Christian halfway up the bleachers. He had his bag around his shoulders, having changed out of his uniform already. The gym was empty, save for the two of us, and the coach, who was busy talking to a group of parents.

I didn’t come here for Christian, for once. This was my breakdown, couldn’t I have it in peace?

Christian tossed me something he was holding onto. Two things, actually. His basketball shoes. “Let’s go,” he said, blue eyes studying me for only a moment before he turned and began heading down the wooden stands.

Let’s go? Why would I want to go anywhere with that dickhead? I know we had this flirting thing going on the past few weeks, but that was all part of my plan. Didn’t mean I really wanted to spend more time with him. And his shoes…

I didn’t even realize he saw me walk in.

This had to be some kind of joke, right? Had to be some kind of prank. I knew the shoes themselves couldn’t be bad, because they were expensive, but still. I didn’t trust him, for obvious reasons.

When I didn’t immediately get up and follow him, Christian stopped about three-quarters of the way down the bleachers, tossing a look over his wide, muscular shoulder. “You coming?”

The last thing I wanted to do was go with him. No, actually the last thing I wanted to do was go home right now, so I slipped on the shoes—which were way too big for me—and followed him to his car. A new SUV, because he was the typical spoiled kid. Or maybe I was, with how I’d been acting.

It did feel much better to walk on concrete with shoes on, even if they didn’t quite fit.

Once we were both situated in the car, he turned the ignition, and the radio came to life. Christian leaned his elbow on the dash between us, inching closer. He smelled of sweat and body spray. He smelled so good, damn it.

“So,” he said, “you want to tell me why you came to the game looking like you want to cry and wearing no shoes?”

Shit. I shouldn’t have shown him weakness. He’d take it and use it, like he had six years ago. Realizing how stupid I was, how foolish I’d been, I started to get out of the car, but he grabbed my wrist, pulling me back. Not hard, but firm. Firm enough to stop me, and because he didn’t immediately release me, I met his blue stare.

I found myself explaining, even though I knew I shouldn’t, “The woman who my dad cheated on my mom with is pregnant, and I feel like the family we had before was just a joke.” The truth, it hurt to say it aloud, hurt even more when I realized I’d just told Christian something that was none of his business.

“Shit. That’s rough.” He slowly released my wrist, and I set it in my lap, rubbing it in the hopes my body would forget his warm touch. “And you just now found out?”

I nodded, biting my lower lip. This was not a heart-to-heart I should be having with him. We were enemies still, and we always would be, his pretty, handsome face or not. “I feel like I was trying so hard to keep it together, and it was just the last straw. I didn’t want to come back here. I didn’t want to see you, Alec, and Xander again. I thought this was all in the past.”

“But here you are,” Christian said, hardly sounding like himself. He was oddly, bizarrely, utterly serious. A good liar.

“Here I am,” I muttered.

His next question caught me off-guard. “You up for some food?” When I gave him a curious, shocked expression, he added, “I’m starving, and I figure the last place you want to go is home.”

Why the hell did he sound so sincere, and why the double hell did I start to feel myself falling for it? For him? A bad, bad idea.

Somehow my mouth managed to croak out an “Okay.”

I really wanted to hit myself. Smack myself. Yell at myself. Showing Christian any sign of weakness was a bad, bad thing, something I’d regret fully later on, I knew. This was a mistake. This was a God-awful mistake, and here I was, making it anyway. Willingly ignorant.

We went to a small diner, taking up a booth. We were about the only customers there, minus some guy sitting on a barstool near the kitchen. I’d tied the shoes as tight as they would go, so they didn’t slide off my feet with every step. Christian was busy looking at the menu, and I was busy staring at him.

How could a handsome face like that hide such cruelty?

“I don’t have any money on me,” I whispered.

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