Page 25 of The Wrong Side of Kai
“Because I couldn’t resist the opportunity to deck Harrison Boyd,” he says flatly, then abruptly holds up his hand to me. “And I swear to God, if you ask me why. . .”
I smile. “Why?”
Kai glares at me, the golden afternoon sun streaming in through the windows and lighting up every fleck of blue in his eyes. “Because Harrison ruined a good thing for me. He took something that was mine.” His mouth is fixed into a frown.
It’s all very ominous, and my head spins with possibilities. It’s clear Kai still doesn’t want to talk about it, so I don’t push the matter. I return to my sandwich instead, silently forking up a mouthful.
“Can I askyousomething?” Kai says suddenly, and I glance up, mid-chew. I give him a nod. It gives Kai the go-ahead to ask: “Why were you, you know, hooking up with him?”
I almost choke on my food. I reach for my iced tea, chug a bunch of it, then stare at Kai in mortification. He waits patiently for an answer, despite asking an incredibly personal question. “Because I. . .” I start, but I realize I don’t have an answer that would make sense if said out loud. I was having casual fun with Harrison because a no-strings relationship is the only kind of relationship I can fathom having with a guy. Even just the idea of simply going on a date with a boy makes my palms sweat. I don’t want an emotional connection with anyone, because I don’t want tolosethem. I can’t deal with any more loss in my life right now. “Because I wanted to,” I finally admit. It’s a cop-out answer. There’s no way I can even begin to explain my fears to Kai without sounding utterly crazy.
“But why Harrison?”
“Why Noah Diaz? Why Blake Nelson? Why Nick Foster?” I shoot back at him. Harrison wasn’t special. He was just like the others. “Because they’re hot, that’s why. Because I thought they didn’t want a relationship either.”
Confusion crosses Kai’s defined features. “And that’s a good thing?”
“I don’t believe in relationships.”
“You don’tbelievein relationships?” he repeats, echoing my words with an air of disbelief.
“Nope, because someone always gets hurt one way or another. You always get your heart broken. You either break up or one of you dies first,” I explain, trying to keep my voice casual as though my opinion on the matter is a totally rational one. I’ve been against the idea of a relationship ever since Mom died. My heart is already too broken. “Nothing about that sounds great to me.” I picture my dad now – pacing the aisles at work, his lifeless eyes staring into nothing, his heart crushed into a million tiny pieces that are lodged in his lungs, making it impossible for him to breathe. I don’t want to be like that, and the only way to ensure that doesn’t happen is to never let anyone get too close to me. Who evenwantsa soulmate if you know you’re going to be left heartbroken when you lose them?
“You’re going to have to give me more than that,” Kai says, copying my earlier words. He cocks his head to one side and studies me.
I try to piece my wave of thoughts into a single coherent statement that sums up my feelings, but it’s incredibly difficult. It may also be the first time I’ve admitted it out loud to anyone other than myself. That’s why my voice sounds distant and far away when I finally say, “I don’t do relationships, because if I let someone in. . . then I lay myself open to the possibility of losing them.”
Kai lets my words sink in for a minute, mulling them over in his head. His eyes narrow while he thinks, his gaze never breaking away from mine, like he’s trying to see straight into my soul. I’m not sure if anyone could ever understand how I feel, no matter how hard they tried. Eventually, he says, “I’m not really into relationships at the moment either.”
Silence ensues because the conversation has gotten too awkward and neither of us knows how to navigate it. I’m just glad he doesn’t push me to elaborate any further, because I’m not sure what else I can say. We both return to our food; Kai picking at his fries, me picking at my side salad. Minutes pass where neither of us say a word.
Suddenly, a pair of manicured hands slaps themselves down on the table. My eyes fly over from Kai to find Madison Romy glowering over us. She glances back and forth between Kai and me for a few seconds, studying Kai suspiciously. “So you’re the new kid who was fighting in my kitchen.” Her gaze shifts to me. “And you made a sex tape in my little brother’s room. What’s going on here? Were you both deliberately trying to create a scene at my party? Trying to embarrass me?”
“Not everything is about you, Madison.” I brazen it out, not even looking at her, only taking another drink and exchanging a look with Kai. I’m pissed off by her interruption, whereas judging by the shine in Kai’s eyes, he seems to find it amusing.
Maddie squeezes into the booth next to me, and I blink at her. What is this? A visit from the morality police?
“Everyone’s been talking about my party,” she says. “More so than usual, and everyone keeps asking when I’ll be throwing another one. Can you guys turn up again and cause some drama? Make it another party worth talking about?”
“That’s literally the most self-absorbed thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” I say, pressing my hand to my forehead. I can’t believe she’s for real. Is Maddie that desperate to be popular that she’s seeking outcasts to cause a scene at her parties just to get more attention?
“Will you pay us?” Kai queries, leaning in closer over the table. “What if I make out with her in front of everyone and then we break out into an argument? I’ll even punch a hole in a wall for extra dramatic effect. Lots of cussing.”
“Kai,” I hiss, and he bats his eyelashes at me.
Did he seriously just bring up the idea of kissing me? In public? He’s only messing around. . . surely?
“That would be perfect!” Maddie yelps, nodding enthusiastically.
“Maddie, it’s not happening,” I snap. I massage my temples, searching for the will to survive this conversation. Maddie Romy is a nightmare even on a good day, so right now, I really can’t cope with her high-pitched squeals and pleas for popularity.
“My parents are still in Florida until next week, so I’m thinking of throwing another party on Saturday,” she says, talking casually, as though Kai and I are her friends. It’s not that Idon’tlike her, not really. She’s just one of those girls who floats back and forth between groups of friends. A girl desperate to be liked.
“Already? Haven’t you filled your annual party quota?” I remark.
Maddie angles toward me and crosses her arms over her chest. The ends of her blond hair are softly curled, bouncing around every time she moves her head. “I don’t like the way you’re talking to me.”
“I don’t like the way you’re hoping to use us for your own gain,” I say without missing a beat. I lock my eyes on hers and stare evenly back.
