Page 21 of Vicious Little Snakes
“Carebear.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Feet shuffling next to him draw the ire behind my eyes as I dart to the familiar pile of hair and clothes Liam is draped over. The locker girl.
“What in the freshman is that under your arm?”
Liam smiles like he’s taunting me. At least that’s what my irritation feeds me. Hate is so handy when you need to mask disappointment. When he doesn’t answer, I shift my gaze back to her. Her—the compilation of big dumb eyes, hidden by a mess of overly highlighted hair, and a school skirt rolled too many times.
I smile, motioning a finger to her skirt. “Word of advice. If they can see your ass, sweetie, they’ll want anal.”
She blinks back at me like a big stupid—“Jesus, you’re like a deer in headlights.” I snap my fingers. “What a perfect idea. Maybe I’ll hit you with my car later.”
Her mouth drops open before she looks up at Liam for help, but he isn’t paying her any attention. He’s staring at me, with that damn look on his face like he’s amused at my dissent. It’s how he used to look at me.Is this us, getting back to what we do—who we are?I internally cross my fingers, hoping that it is.
Without a word, he reaches for my hand, staring down as he brushes my fingertips with his. It lasts all of a second, but it’s long enough for me to forget there are other people around.
“Come on, Carebear, stop making empty threats. Everyone knows that you don’t drive.”
There he is.
As much as I chant “don’t smile” inside my head, I do. But only a Mona Lisa. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s actually funny. Where’s the fun in that.
“Perfect alibi,” I counter with less snark than before. His hazel eyes crease in the corners.
It’s the friendliest moment we’ve shared in a week, and I don’t want it to end. Suddenly I feel nervous, almost scared the longer we stare at each other.
Forgive me, Liam.
He tips his chin, eyes growing colder. “See ya, around, Caroline.”
Fuck.
Bambi wraps her arms around Liam’s waist, giggling as they walk away, saying, “Why did you call herCarebear?”
I don’t hear his answer. Not that he’d ever share the truth. The bell rings, echoing off the walls, and I look to my right and then back, only catching a glimpse of Liam with that girl, turning the corner.
Liam
Iturn around, taking the body attached to my side with me, with lazy steps. It’s getting harder to walk away from Caroline, so this time, I need to fucking stay gone.
Why did I have to touch Caroline’s goddamn hand? Fuck me. But she was just there, in all herher-ness. All her beautiful, cold, exquisite elegance, holding me hostage with each cruel jab and scowl only serving to remind me that I want her.
So I fucking brushed her hand like an idiot, and now it feels like I’m losing my goddamn mind.
“Why did you call Caroline WhitmoreCarebear?” freshie speaks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Huh?”
Her hand squeezes my waist. “Carebear…you called her that.”
“Oh. Um, because I do. You should go to class, Bambi.”
My arm falls off her shoulder as I step out of her grasp.
“It’s Amber, and I thought—” She points awkwardly down the hall. “Do you want my number?”
With an apologetic smile, I head toward the side doors.
