Page 3 of You Had Me At Thirteen

Yuck.

I need space from those two traitorous monsters. Who do they think they are trying to tell me I have feelings for Wren Stevenson?

Please.

As if.

TWO

Wren

* * *

Idon’t like the way Matilda just looked at me, just as I didn’t like it five years ago when she stood on the front porch of my house, her full bottom lip caught between her teeth, those eyes piercing so deep into mine that I was sure she was searching for my damn soul. Can she see every thought I’ve ever fucking had, or all the sins from every past life I’ve ever lived?

She does something to my heart, makes it beat in a strange rhythm. Jesus, maybe I’m having a fucking heart attack. If only. No, this is much worse. It’s everything I don’t want. Yet, why does it feel… good?

It’s a foreign sensation, like the prickling that runs up your neck when you’re scared. And maybe that’s all it is. Fear. It only took a second of our eyes meeting all those years ago for me to know she could bring me to my knees if she wanted to, so I avoided her. Until now. Philosophy has never interested me, but I have the sudden urge to Google the meaning of life.

As I lean against the brick wall of the main school building, contemplating my existence, I stare after Matilda as she races her way towards her friends. No woman should have legs like that, which has me imagining them wrapped around my neck as I fuck her with my tongue.

I take a moment to realise I’m biting my knuckle, pain shooting through my hand as my teeth clamp down. I groan, releasing the death bite on my hand, before giving it a quick shake to ease the sting.

Christ, I need a fight or a fuck.

Or both.

Koby startles me as he steps up beside me, slapping my back. ‘Hey, man.’

I nod at my best friend, doing a double take at his hair. The guy looks as though he should be on a beach somewhere, surfing waves, except he’s never even touched a surfboard. Or seen the ocean.

‘When was the last time you brushed that nest of yours?’ I say as I shove him, a grin spreading over my face.

He shrugs. ‘Last week.’

‘I can tell.’

He scowls at me, then shoves me back. ‘We’re not all blessed like you, dick.’

‘Whatever.’ I’m not sure what he’s talking about.

Women flock to his natural highlights and blue eyes. It’s only when his mouth spews out some sort of tasteless garbage that the women realise they may have made a mistake.

I’ve mentioned to him many times that he needs to chill, but his response is that girls make him nervous, which only makes his mouth run more.

We fall into step next to each other as we make our way to Willis and Emerson, who are already seated at the table. Will has his focus on his sketchbook, as usual, while Emerson is tossing a coin in the air, attempting to catch it with his forehead.

I instinctively rub my own, trying to work out how I ended up friends with two of the best-looking dudes in this town, neither of whom has an ounce of knowledge when it comes to women. They couldn’t be more opposite, though. Koby with his blond hair and bright blue eyes, and Em with his curly brown hair, brown skin and hazel eyes. Emerson often says it’s the curls that get the girls.

Will doesn’t give a shit about any of that. He takes what he wants when he wants, and that’s that. It’s the fact that he looks like a combination offuck with me and die,and an innocent puppy. With his short light brown hair and dark blue eyes, girls want to tame the beast inside. But, they’re lucky if he even speaks to them.

Koby shoves his hand into a packet of M&Ms before throwing one in the air. He catches it in his mouth, before planting himself next to Will, who just grunts his hello.

‘Hey, man,’ Emerson says as I sit at the end of one of the bench seats.

I nod at the coin. ‘What are you doing? Practicing for the circus?’

‘Hilarious.’ He narrows his eyes at me before rolling them. ‘If you must know, I saw this video on YouTube of this dude catching coins on his forehead, so I thought I’d give it a go.’

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