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Charade
  • Текст добавлен: 28 сентября 2016, 22:39

Текст книги "Charade"


Автор книги: Nyrae Dawn



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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

              Tattoo Guy turns away, shaking his head, but Gregory grabs his arm. He doesn’t like to be made a fool of and I’m sure he needs to show off for his new girl. Not smart. I’ve never known Gregory to get in a fight and this guy looks like he does it often.

              “I’m thinking you want to let go of my arm now, Pretty Boy.” Tattoo Guy doesn’t jerk his arm back, though I’m sure he could. He just stares at Gregory. My boyfriend—no ex-boyfriend returns the stare for a few seconds. Something is passing between them, and I want to know what it is.

              “Whatever.” Gregory’s hand slips off Tattoo Guy’s arm. “Come on, Maxine. Let’s go.”

              Maxine. Ugh. I hate that name. Hate that girl, who thinks she’s so much better than me. That she has something I don’t…

And Gregory… I can’t believe the things he said to her about me.

As soon as they walk out the door I look at Tattoo Guy again. There’s obviously some serious hate going on between the two.  Red’s claims hit me again. He feels sorry for me? Misplaced obligation? Screw him! This guy would be the perfect way to get back at Gregory.

A weird, desperate feeling overcomes me. It’s so strong that it makes me feel reckless.

I’m not proud to admit this, but after Tattoo Guy gets his coffee and leaves, I throw my purse over my shoulder, grab my caramel macchiato and then I’m out the door behind him. He has long legs and mine are short so I have to jog to catch up. Not that I know what I’m going to say when I get there, but that’s beside the point.

              “Hey!” Gah. What’s his name? “You. Hey you with the tattoos.”

              He stops and turns, then waits as I catch up with him. “Hi…um…hi.” I stumble. The first thing I notice is he’s pretty, too, but in a totally different way than Gregory. He has great lips, straight teeth. His eyes are incredible. Bright blue, somehow darker toward the center and get lighter on the outside. Definitely pretty, but with an edge to him that Gregory doesn’t have.

              Pull it together, Chey.

              “Hi. I’m Cheyenne.” I hold out my hand to him. At first I think he’s going to walk away and ignore me, but then he shifts and grabs my hand.

              “Colt.”

              “Colt?”

              “Are you really approaching me to talk shit about my name, Princess?” His voice is slightly softer than when he spoke to Gregory, but not much.

              “You’re right. I just…” Have no idea what to say. But then I think of how Gregory looked with Maxine. The heated anger that passed between him and Colt. The way I felt when I walked in on Gregory with her.

              “So...that guy in there?” I say. “The one who was sort of a jerk to you?”

              “Frat boy, dickhead? What about him? Friend of yours?” He smirks.

              My recklessness fades, leaving the panic that I hate. It pisses me off. I’m not supposed to lose the strength. The new Cheyenne is all strength.

              “You know what? Never mind.” Turning, I take a few steps away from him.

              “Suit yourself,” he says behind me. I don’t know why, but his response surprises me. Isn’t he the least bit curious what I was going to say?

              “Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt. This stops him.

              Colt turns and looks at me, one of his eyebrows cocked. “Are you hitting on me, Princess? No thanks. I’m not the kind of guy you can piss off your parents with by slumming.”

              And just that simple, he starts to walk away. I’m still trying to figure out what just happened. This guy didn’t even give me a chance to explain. That’s not the part that pisses me off though. I run to catch up. “You don’t know me, so don’t pretend you do. I don’t have parents to piss off. And, I wasn’t hitting on you.”

              I expect him to ask about the parent comment. I’m a little surprised I even said it, but he doesn’t. Amusement bounces off his words when he says, “You weren’t hitting on me, but you followed me out of the coffee shop and now want to know if I have a girl? I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered.”

              His words and our fast pace make me stumble. He reaches out his hand and catches me. It’s warm and calloused and I jerk my arm away. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it. Not that I was flirting with you, but still.”

              “Listen, if there’s a point, you need to get to it. I have somewhere I need to be.”

              It takes a minute for me to reply. I consider walking away, but I can’t get Maxine and Gregory out of my head. The way he threw me away. I swore I’d never be thrown away again.

              People always fall at Gregory’s feet. I loved that about him. This guy? He didn’t. That’s what I need.

              My head high, I tell him, “You never answered the question.”

              He groans as though he’s about done with me, but then he answers. “No, Princess. I don’t have a girl. I’m not looking for one either.”

              The princess thing is about to piss me off, but I let it go. “Good. I’m not either.” He grins and I realize what I’ve said. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend! You know what I mean.” Do lesbian jokes ever get old to men?

              “Tick tock.”

              “I have a question for you and its very private…Colt. It wouldn’t be good for this to get out.”

              Which is putting it mildly. Talk about ruining my reputation—my plan. Having it get out that I’m trying to score a fake man would do that more than anything.

              He crosses his arms and I try not to study his tattoos. “I’m all ears.”

              Or all attitude.

              “That guy you just got in an argument with?”

              His jaw tightens and he nods. Someone walks around us on the sidewalk and I wait until they’re gone until I finish. He’s going to want all the answers. I know it. A guy like him won’t be willing to do this regardless. I’m nauseous at the thought.

              “He’s my ex-boyfriend. We’ve been together forever and I just found out he cheated on me. I walked in on it, actually, and I kind of made him think I had another boyfriend to make him jealous. So now I need that. A boyfriend I mean.”

Oh. My. God. My stomach drops out. I said it. I really put it out there.

              Colt’s eyes get huge, and he stares at me for what feels like forever. He opens his mouth and I’m waiting to hear what he’ll say, but it’s not words that come out. He laughs. Hard. Much harder than he did in the coffee house.

              My face is hot. I’m not sure if it’s anger or embarrassment or both.

              “Very funny, Princess.” When he tries to walk away, I grab his arm. His corded muscles tense beneath my hand.

              “I’m serious! Do you think I would make something like that up?”

              He stops and studies me. I almost want to turn away. No one really looks at me like they’re trying to figure me out. They all know who I am now, but this guy, it’s like he’s looking for something deeper. Something I don’t want to be there.

“You really are serious, aren’t you? Didn’t I just tell you I’m not looking for a girl? I have much more serious shit on my plate than playing this game with you.”

              “I don’t really want to be your girlfriend! It’s a charade. Hello? I would figure that much would be obvious.” Is he dense, or what?

              Colt moves and his arm pulls out of my grasp. “And why would I do this? I don’t even know you and I’m definitely not that hard up.”

              Ugh. Perv. “It’s not like I really want you either and I could find someone I like, if I wanted. The point is, I don’t.”

              I’m never giving someone that kind of power over me again. The more I think about it, the more appealing a fake boyfriend is at the moment.

              “Forget it,” Colt says. “Good luck, Princess.”

              He’s walking away. My one chance to save face is walking away, and I can feel myself clinging, needing something, anything.

              “I’ll pay you!” I say to his back.

              He freezes. Turns. By the way his face hardens and his jaw ticks, I can tell my offer didn’t go over very well.

              “Wrong answer. I don’t need your money.”

              And with that, he walks away.


~CHAPTER FOUR~

Colt

              I don’t do pity. I don’t know or honestly give a shit if that chick is seriously about what she just asked me, but I can tell you, offering charity isn’t going to fly with me. Even though honestly, the money would be nice. It would help.

              Regardless, it’s not like I would play some stupid game with her anyway. I have too much shit going on to add a spoiled princess to the stack.

              Even if she is hot as hell.

              I’ve always been into girls with dark hair. Her skin is a smooth, even shade of brown with legs that are short, but firm. I can definitely picture them wrapped around my waist.

              Luckily for me, she spoke and ruined it.

              Pity isn’t the only thing I don’t do. Princesses are high on my list too.

              Though if she was on the real, it would feel good to stick it to Pretty Boy.

              Again.

              I hate assholes like him who think they own the fucking world and can get away with whatever they want. He’s a bully and I hate people who throw their weight around like that. So I showed him how it felt to be picked on.

              I walk across the street tossing a look over my shoulder. Princess is walking away, her hips swaying back and forth as she goes. She knows how hot she is.

Nope. This girl isn’t someone I want to screw around with.

My cell beeps. Its Adrian so I pick it up, knowing he probably has something going on that I need. “Hey.”

“Hey, man. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just leaving school and heading home.”

“You got anything?”

My gut tightens after he asks. Yeah, I’ve always known I wouldn’t amount to shit, but I never saw this for myself. It would kill Mom. “Depends on how much you need.” I only deal in weed so there’s no point in asking what he wants.

“An eighth. It’s for a friend who stopped by.”

“We’re good. I’ll be there in a few,” I tell him.

I hang up wondering if this was how stuff started for my dad. If he did it just to help out, but things got out of control. Nah. Not him. I hate that prick. He was always letting Mom down. I can’t be like that.

Can’t.


~CHAPTER FIVE~

Cheyenne

              The next day, I still can’t get over Tattoo Guy. I mean, what was his problem? I didn’t do anything to him. Even if he didn’t want to go through with it, he didn’t have to be such a jerk about it.

              It’s always the hot ones who are assholes. I used to think Gregory was the exception. Obviously I was wrong there.

              My heart is beating about a million miles an hour as I get ready to go to class. With Gregory. And if I remember correctly, Red, who I never paid much attention to, but will now.

I’d rather my heart didn’t beat at all if that didn’t mean I was—well, dead. But I can feel my control slipping. Feel myself getting panicky. Again. That’s what I hate Gregory for the most. I finally have the control I need and he’s taken that away from me. He makes me feel like I’m going to have a breakdown. That’s not something I’ll let myself do. I won’t lose it.

              When I lift my brush to my hair, my hands are shaking. Shaking. Get it together, Chey. I concentrate on running the brush through my chocolate-brown hair. It reminds me of Hershey Bars—which brings a memory of Mom flooding back to the surface. She loved chocolate. I remember a time when we had it for dinner for three days straight.

              Fighting back those thoughts, I brush again, letting it take the tremor out of my hands. That’s one memory I don’t mind letting drift to the surface—for a few seconds at least. Mom always used to brush my hair and I loved it. It made me feel taken care of when I was anything but.

              My dorm room door opens and Andy walks in. She scans me quickly before saying, “You look nice. Don’t tell me you’re dressing up for your ex.” She walks past me and flops onto her bed.

              “Umm, thanks?” I’m not sure what else to say.

              “Holy shit. Don’t tell me you’re going to be like that. Don’t get all stressed out because I told you I like girls and then said you look nice.”

              “What?” I whip around. I hadn’t even thought of that. “I didn’t even think about that, thank you very much. I just don’t get why you think I’m dressing up.” I look down at my mini-skirt and wedges. The skirt is purple and my tank top’s white. I’m not sure what’s so dressed up about it.

              “You dress like that every day?”

              “Why wouldn’t I?” I love my clothes. Love that I have them. I didn’t always.

              Andy shrugs, but I can see her looking down at me. Her nose is crinkled and I bet she doesn’t know it. I want to tell her she doesn’t know what it’s like—to go from having nothing to having everything. To wearing the same thing for days and then having so many clothes to choose from that I lost count. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look good.”

              She shakes her pink-haired head at me as though she thinks I’m ridiculous. I’m about to tell her where she can stick it when she says, “There’s a party tonight. It’s supposed to be a good one. You’re welcome to come with Veronica and me.”

              “Oh…um…” The truth is, I’m not sure I can go to a party without Gregory. I’m always a little nervous at them. I got over it, because that’s what I do, but I’m also close to having panic attacks again too.

Gregory doesn’t even know I have them it’s been so long, yet now I can’t seem to stop my fingers from curling and my chest from feeling tight.

That’s not all.

I hate admitting it, even to myself, but what if he’s there with her? Will I be able to handle it? And…I don’t really know Andy either. What if we don’t get along? What if they leave me? I don’t want to be alone. Can’t.

              “Just an offer. You don’t have to hyperventilate.”

              I turn away from her, busying myself with makeup. I am breathing heavy. I can’t believe I’m getting so worked up over this.

              “I’ll help you find your mama.”

              Just like they did all those years ago. My eyes start to sting. Liquid drips over the brim, but this time it’s colored with my make-up.

              “Hey, are you okay?”

              I concentrate on my words as I speak them. “Yeah. Fine. I just poked my eye.”

              I do everything to try and fight this off. I’m over it. Past it. The new Cheyenne who doesn’t have such a screwed up past.

              “I can’t do the party tonight. I forgot I have plans.”

              I hate Gregory even more for unearthing my past. Maybe it’s me I should hate for letting it slip back in, just because of a guy.

              Or maybe it was never gone in the first place.

***

              I walk into class right before it starts. My head is high, no sign of the tears that tried to drown me earlier. I’m over it now. Gregory, Maxine or anyone else isn’t worth becoming that scared, lonely girl I was when Mom would leave me. I won’t let myself be the one left behind again.

              I don’t keep my eyes from scanning the room. Not in a needy way, but in a nonchalant, I don’t-give-a-shit one. I catch Gregory’s eye across the room and don’t turn away. He gives me a small smile, which I don’t return, before he looks away. I sit tall, hands shaking in my lap proud I’m not coming apart. All sewn up tight the way I’m supposed to be.

***

              I take my time gathering my things when class is over. Not because I’m weak and can’t handle seeing Gregory and Red. Whatever. I’m over them, but I’m tired from lack of sleep and I’m not going to be that girl who has to rush out of class so I don’t run into them.

              I hear her laugh and I cringe, accidentally knocking my stuff to the floor. Great.

              By the time I make it out, the large room is empty except for my professor who’s not paying me any attention. I leave the room and step into the busy hall. People carry books, coffees, weaving around me like I’m not there. My stomach suddenly aches.

              I turn, ready to head to my next class when I see them. Gregory and Red. He has her pressed against the wall, his lips on hers and his hips grinding into her. Yes. Right there for the world to see. I want to puke. The jerk has been calling me non-stop, leaving voicemails and he’s making out with her right in front of me?

              Who the hell is this guy?

              “Don’t cry, Princess. You know what they say. You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you meet your prince.”

              I recognize the voice of Tattoo Guy right away. I turn around to tell him where he can stick it, but he’s already walking away from me.

              Screw him.

              Screw Gregory.

              And screw anyone else who tries to shove me aside. I’m fine on my own. I’m going to that party tonight and I’m going to prove them all wrong.


~CHAPTER SIX~

Colt

              When Adrian said the frat guys were having a party, I was definitely down. Crashing pretty boy parties is always a good time. Plus, it’s a good chance for me to make money. Frat boys are some of my best customers. Let’s not forget I also get to meet girls—both things that are high on my list.

              Before I head out I stop by Mom’s house. She sounded like shit when I talked to her on the phone today. I get a knot in my gut every time I think about seeing her and then I feel like a pussy because I’m her son and she’s dying. I should be able to handle it better than that. For her.

              For some reason, my heart jackhammers when I step inside the apartment. I run a hand through my hair, which annoys the shit out of me. I hate nervous habits like that.

              “She’s sleeping, Colton,” Maggie says from the kitchen.

              I make a turn and head toward her. “How’s she doing? How’d her appointment go today?”

              Maggie sighs. Her gray hair is tied back in a bun that disappears when she turns to face me. “They’ve added another medication. It’s stronger to help with the nausea and vomiting. Also more pain meds.”

              I lean against the table. “Fuck.”

              “Do you kiss your mama with that mouth?”

              I know she’s trying to make me smile, but I can’t right now. “Not in the mood, Maggie.”

              She walks over to me, a sad look in her dark eyes. I know this is almost as hard on her as it is me. She’s the best friend Mom’s ever had.

              “How much, Maggie?”

              “You don’t want to know, Colton.”

              “And the lease is up in two weeks. You know they always raise the rent when it’s time to sign a new lease. Hospice will take care of the meds, I’m more worried about rent and bills.”

              Will she need a new lease? As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I feel like the world’s biggest prick. She will. She has to.

“Fuck,” I ground out again. Does it ever stop? Jesus, she’s done nothing but try her whole life. She’s been there for me, worked her ass off and when she could have easily left me behind like Dad did. She didn’t. Not when Dad was in and out of jail. Not when we ate Top Ramen every day.

This is the payment she gets?

              “I’ll pick up some more hours. Maybe do some odd jobs or something.” Maggie touches my hand and I say, “I should have gone. I was wasting my time in a stupid classroom today and I should have been with her.”

              “You know she wants you in the classroom. You’re going to live her dreams and that’s what matters to her.”

              I don’t reply to that, but say, “I’m gonna go in and see her.”

              I make my way to Mom’s room. She’s lying in bed so still, looking ghost white. My heart drops somewhere to my feet. Holy shit, she looks dead. She can’t fucking be dead, can she?

              “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” Mom’s eyes flutter open. I let out a heavy breath.

              “My mom tried to teach me manners, but they didn’t stick so well,” I tease as I walk into the room.

              “Yes they did. You just like to pretend they didn’t.”

              I pull up a chair beside her bed. It’s so different when they know you’re dying and they can’t do anything about it. No hospitals. All there is to do is wait. And medicate. Always medicate.

              “How you feeling?” I’m not in the mood to pretend to be happy.

              “Happy to see my son. What are you doing tonight? Have big plans with your friends?” There’s a small smile on her lips, but they’re dry. Too dry.

              I pick up the cup from beside her bed. “Let me help you get a drink.” I put the straw by her mouth, but she shakes her head and a shaky hand grabs the glass.

              “I can do it, Colton. I don’t like you having to take care of me.”

              Someone should. She deserves it. It’s not like she hasn’t done it for others.

              “I thought I’d hang with you tonight. Maybe watch a movie or something.”

              Mom takes a small sip and I grab the cup from her, putting it back on the bedside table. “You’re not saying with me tonight. You go have fun. I’ll still be here tomorrow.”

              Maybe.

              “There’s nothing going on,” I lie.

              “Liar,” she tosses back at me and her attitude does make me smile. “You’re covered in too much ink.” She slides her fragile finger down my arm. “You’re too handsome to be so covered up.” I open my mouth to reply, but she cuts me off. “Go out tonight. I’ll be fine. I want you to have fun. If you try to stay, I’ll make Maggie kick you out.”

              I know her well enough to know she’s not screwing around. “Mom…”

              “Colton…”

              I shake my head at her. “I love you. Get some rest, alright?” I push to my feet. Mom smiles and it makes that knot it my gut multiply. Still, I listen to her and go.

***

              Two kegs are in the living room—both with lines behind them, but in one line, everyone has cups and the other, they’re doing keg stands. Adrian’s bouncing on his heels beside me, his dark hair hanging in his eyes.

              “I’m ready to get my party on. Find me a rich girl or two to have my way with.”

              I try to laugh at him. “Multiples now?”

              “There’s a first time for everything.” Adrian holds out his fist and I hit it.

              “I need a drink.” We head through the room. I have a flask in my pocket, but I’d rather drink their shit than mine. The kitchen is our first stop. The fridge is packed with anything we could want to drink.

              Bottles in hand, we go back toward the living room. My eyes scan the room looking for, hell, I don’t even know what. That’s when I see Princess walk in with two other chicks. The girls are holding hands and you can tell Princess is trying to keep some space from them. She obviously doesn’t want it known she’s here with them, but then I can’t help but wonder why she is.

              Dollar signs pop into my head as she walks through the room, her head high with those slender legs. Her skirt is short. Her dark hair long and straight, but somehow looking like she spent hours on it. I think she’s Indian or something. Whatever the fuck she is, she’s gorgeous. And she offered me money that would probably help pay for my mom’s shit. Rent. Everything else.

              Hell no. What am I thinking? I couldn’t go through with that. She’d drive me up the fucking wall.

              “What ya looking at, man?” Adrian asks. I nod my head toward Princess. “Day-um.”

              “No shit. She’s a spoiled brat though. She was doin’ that frat boy we got into it with.”

              “Greg or whatever the hell his name is?”

              “Yep.”

              Which is another reason I can’t deal with her. I have too much on my plate to deal with a spoiled princess and her douchebag ex.

              “I fucking hate that guy,” Adrian yells.

              Him and me both.

              Princess walks away and I forget about her. The bottle is in my hand, but I haven’t taken one drink. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me, but I’m just not feeling it.

              It isn’t long before Adrian’s off with some chick. I’m wondering if I should do the same thing just to get my mind off stuff, every time someone comes up to me, I keep shooting them down.

              I wander the place for an hour talking to people before I’m sick of the whole thing. I head outside when I see Princess without her two friends, but with the asshole Greg. My hands squeeze into a fist. Jesus, it would feel good to hit him. Hit something, anything, to see if it took any of the pain away. Instead I duck around the corner and wonder what the hell has gotten into me.

              “Come on, babe. You know I love you. I was just screwing around with Maxine. You’re the one I want.”

              “Then you shouldn’t have screwed around. You messed up, Gregory and I moved on.”

              Ah, so she must have found her fake boyfriend. Or she has a real one. I can’t believe she wants to make this prick jealous so bad that she’d go there.

              “I’m sorry. Damn you look sexy tonight.”

              Again my hands fist. Even if I didn’t hate the guy, he’d deserve the shit knocked out of him right now.

              “Too bad for you. You can look, but you can’t touch anymore.”

              I’m surprised the princess has it in her. Most girls would fall down to whatever he says, but she’s standing her own.

              “Cheyenne. Don’t be like this.”

              “I—” she starts, but then she’s cut off and there’s a muffled sound.

              I look around the corner again and he’s kissing her. Looks like she didn’t hold her ground for long. I’m about to walk away, when I see she’s trying to push him off her. Fucking prick. It’s going to feel good to hit this guy.

              I head for them. I don’t get very far before she’s ripping herself away from him and a group of people walk around the corner closest to them.

              “Gregory, what are you doing?” Some red-headed chick says. She’s surrounded by more of the frat guys.

              “Just having a talk with Cheyenne. We had a few things to work out.”

              The red head smiles. “I see you left your girlfriends behind. Is that who you were talking about? Playing for the other team now?”

              Rolling your eyes is such a bullshit thing to do, but I do it anyway. Is that the best she can come up with?

              “No, actually, I was trying to keep your boyfriend from kissing me.”

              I can’t help it. I laugh. Princess has balls.

              “What the fuck, Cheyenne!” Gregory says. His friends are all laughing. Red-head is scowling. And I can see the tenseness in Princess’s body.

              “You know that’s not how it happened,” Greg adds. “Maxine, I didn’t try to kiss her, it was the other way around. I called her on the fake boyfriend and she kissed me.”

              Then, I’m walking forward. I don’t know what in the fuck I’m doing, but I can’t stop myself. This guy is a prick. I need the money and I’d like nothing more than to kill two birds with one stone by scoring some cash and sticking it to him.

              “Hey, you. There you are.” I step up beside Princess and wrap my arm around her waist. She tenses more, before looking over at me. There’s fire in her dark brown eyes, but she manages a smile.

              “I was looking for you…”

              Shit. She forgot my name. Leaning forward, I kiss the side of her mouth before she can reply. “You found me. Or I found you. Whatever it is, I’m here. Are these pricks bothering you?” I pull her to me and now the fire is directed at me. She’s pissed, but if I’m going there, I’m making this shit look real.

              “Him? You’re dating this guy? He’s a loser, Chey.”

              With that I step away from the princess and head straight for Greg. “You don’t want to piss me off tonight—actually. You do. I’m begging you to fucking piss me off, man. Give me an excuse to kick your ass again.”

              The look on his face makes this whole charade worth it.


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