Page 17 of Jerk
“We don’t have much time,” I remind her. “So, what’ll it be?”
Thud!
A curtain of velvet falls on the other side. She squeals.
“Tic-toc,” I tease. I can feel her body tremble and call me twisted for trying to gain control in a roaring fire, but I’m committed. Closing her eyes, she finally nods. I smile. “Good girl.”
Crr—ack!
It’s time to get the fuck out of here.
She screams when a flaming piece of fabric topples to the ground, next to her head.
“Keep it together,” I mutter, scooping Hannah in my arms. Her arm comes around my neck as she curls up against my chest. Looking around us, it’s carnage, and I can’t begin to think about the work these flames eat up. Squinting through the smoke, I head towards the mansion doors. “Almost there.”
With my boot to the front door, I kick it until it swivels open.
“Whoa, my big brother’s a hero,” Krystal’s voice comes from beside me once we’re out on the front patio. The cool air hits my face, fresh air gracing my lungs.
When Hannah opens her eyes, they land right on me. She doesn’t look angry or contentious. She looks soft. Like she’s a cat I saved from a tree. She looks to her side before her demeanour shifts. Muttering something, her eyes dart around.
What’s left of the party stares at us. And I know what’s about to happen. Hannah and I look like something out of a romance movie. The big jock carrying the queen bee out of a fiery building. So before they can document any of this, I turn to Krystal, holding Hannah’s body towards her. “Can you hold this?”
Before Hannah hits the floor, Krystal catches her. She wobbles in her boots, her size not much bigger than Hannah’s.
Pushing my hands in my pockets, I take a step back, glancing at the phones pointed in our direction. “Say cheese.”
SEVEN
HANNAH
“She didn’t save my life.”
“It sure looks like she did,” Ember says through the car speaker, not helping the situation.
“I know,” I groan, my foot heavy on the gas of my pink Mini. It matches my oversized blazer and blush Chanel purse. The ensemble I’m hoping helps land my interview. “Now everyone’s asking about The Hill’s new heroine.”
The first thing I saw when I woke up this morning was the photos from last night. Me in Krystal’s arms all over social media from varying angles. Everyone on campus is talking about it. Well, talking abouther.
“At least you didn’t burn down their house,” Ember says.
Right now, I wish I did.
Glancing at the clock on the white display, I’m way behind schedule. Nightmares kept me tossing and turning all night. Images of me in a roaring fire with he-who-shall-not-be-named. What’s worse? We were having sex in that fire. His body melting into mine, his sweaty hands all over my skin. What’s even worse than that? He had a glass shard in his hand, and he pressed it against some places I’d rather not say. I woke up sweaty andbothered and won’t admit to anyone how I eventually got back to sleep.
Hooooonk!
Someone’s horn blasts me back to reality as I grip the wheel, swerving back into my lane.Chill, Hannah.There's no way I'm dominating this interview if I don’t focus.
“Uh, should I let you go?” Ember asks.
“You’re not nearly as distracting as he is.” With a breath, I turn onto the main street of Paradise Hill. Smooth pavement guides my drive between manicured hedges and curated flowerbeds.
"I thought you weren't gonna retaliate," Ember says, annoyingly.
"He tried to steal my friends," I argue. "By the way, thanks for your help last night." This only reminds me that none of the posse have even called to check in. No texts. No voice notes. Nothing in the group chat.
His words play in my head.
