Page 19 of Vicious Little Snakes
Damn those icy blue eyes for burning right through me and instantly making me think of my shower.
Joke’s on Kai, I’ll never audition for “heartsick friend” to Donovan. I already landed that role three fucking years ago, except my Molly Ringwald liked me back.
Caroline
Every time Liam walks by this morning, it takes a concerted effort on my part to pretend I don’t notice him. I never see him before my classes, but today he’s everywhere.
His voice carries from a few lockers down, prompting the tiny baby hairs I’ve swept up into my tight ponytail to prickle. He’s like an irritating fly buzzing around from girl to girl, making them laugh and allowing them to think they have a chance.
It’s all a lie, bitches.
I suppose now that Donovan’s occupied with Grey, Liam’s trying to make up for lost time—gross. Why do I care? I shouldn’t. We aren’t friends or anything else anymore. He’s making that abundantly clear with his insistence on ignoring me.
It’s absurd. Liam’s made up with Grey. Forgave him for his crimes against the little tart. Why still choose her side? The thought makes my skin burn. When he refused my apology outside of Grey’s bedroom, I’d hoped that he’d finally be satisfied Donovan got to put me in my place.
But no, it’s “I hate Caroline Whitmore” all day, every fucking day now.Jesus, how long until he forgives me?I say that like a prayer. If I thought it’d help.
My eyes drift against my better judgment, watching as he leans his shoulder against a locker and speaks to some inconsequential. I drop my gaze to that fucking toothpick and tilt my head, mirroring Liam as he cocks his own to the side.
He’s beautiful—all shine and no tarnish.
A high-pitched bubbly laugh yanks me back to reality. I’m paused, like I’m glitching, the book in my hand hovering mid-pull before I aggressively shove back inside, rattling the metal.
I swear to fucking God, if I hear one more giggle or swoony sigh over Liam’s wearing-on-my-goddamned-nerves charm, I’ll drive that little twat to jump off a bridge. Just. For. Fun. She won’t even need thirteen reasons.
My focus returns to my locker as I let out a breath, trying to relax my shoulders. Shit. I stare at the books. I don’t even remember what the hell I was doing here in the first place—duh,trying to avoid him but being too cracked out to leave.
Oh God. That’s what I am—cracked out. My brows knit together as my lips part. I’m fucking Gollum, and Liam’s my precious. I’m doomed to die in a cave on the Upper East Side, old and shriveled, obsessed over someone I can’t have. He’s turned me into an ugly troll.
“Good morning, gorgeous.”
My shoulders jump as I’m jerked from my inner spiral. Kai hands me an espresso—thank God for small miracles—as he leans in, taking my lips between his.
“Mmm. You taste as good as you smell…Gucci?”
“Ew, poor Chanel.”
I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip. “You have unicorn blood all over you.”
“Beg your pardon?”
I shut my locker and turn around to face him, holding only my coffee.
“My lipstick. It’s called unicorn blood. It’s smeared on your bottom lip—”
“What a perfectly depraved name for your mouth.”
I wink as Kai wraps his arm through mine, leading me down the hall. We’re meandering rather than acting out my secret desire, which would be to run past Hillcrest’s infamous manwhore.
Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.
“How does it look on me?” Kai asks, bringing a thumb to his lip and giving me a place for my focus as we walk by.
“Stunning. Then again, your goddamn skin color makes everything look good. To be so lucky.”
“Well, one of us has to be the pretty one because you’ve cornered the market on mean.”
I shrug, giving a chuckle—not a giggle because I’m not four—as I look up at him.
