I wanted to know what the hell her problem was, but I was scared to confront her. I knew that if we actually talked about it, I wouldn’t be able to keep lying about Dad. Not to her. But it was his secret, his shame, not mine to tell. I wouldn’t let anyone, not even Casey, find out.
So I had to let her supreme weirdness slide for the time.
Wesley was really the only thing getting me through those weeks. Some part of me was appalled at myself, but what could I say? I needed that escape-that high-more than ever, and he was always just a short drive away. A fix three or four times a week was all it took to keep me sane.
God, I was like a fucking druggie. Maybe my sanity was long gone already.
“What would you do without me?” he asked one night. We were tangled in the silky sheets of his gigantic bed. My heart was still pounding as I came down from the high of what we’d just done, and he wasn’t helping matters by putting his lips so close to my ear.
“Live a happy… happy life,” I murmured. “I might even… be an optimist… if you weren’t around.”
“Liar.” He bit my earlobe playfully. “You’d be absolutely miserable. Admit it, Duffy. I’m the wind beneath your wings.”
I bit my lip, but I still couldn’t hold back the laughter-and just as I was finally catching my breath, too. “You just referenced Bette Midler… in bed. I’m starting to question your sexuality, Wesley.”
Wesley looked at me with a defiant glint in his eye. “Oh, really?” He grinned before moving his mouth back to my ear and whispering, “We both know that my manhood has never been in question… I think you’re just changing the subject because you know it’s true. I’m the light of your life.”
“You…” I struggled for words as Wesley pressed his mouth into the crook of my neck. The tip of his tongue moved down to my shoulder and made my brain get all fuzzy. How was I supposed to argue under these conditions? “You wish. I’m just using you, remember?”
His laughter was muffled against my skin. “That’s amusing,” he said, his lips still grazing my collarbone. “Because I’m pretty sure your ex is out of town by now.” One of his hands slid between my knees. “Yet you’re still here, aren’t you?” His fingers began gliding up and down my inner thigh, making it difficult for me to think of a retort. He seemed to like this, because he laughed again. “I don’t think you hate me, Duffy. I think you like me a lot.”
I squirmed uncontrollably as Wesley’s fingertips danced along the inside of my leg. I wanted so badly to argue, but he was sending electric currents up my spine.
Finally, when I thought I might explode, his hand moved to my hip and he pulled his mouth away from my shoulder. “Oh, thank God,” I whispered as he reached for a condom in the nightstand drawer, knowing what came next.
“I suppose it’s a good thing I don’t mind having you around,” he said with that cocky grin. “Now, let me answer all of those questions you claim to have about my sexuality.”
And my head filled with clouds again.
But I couldn’t deny things were getting way out of hand. It became painfully clear to me one Friday afternoon in English that something wasn’t right.
Mrs. Perkins was passing out old papers she’d graded and chattering away about some Nora Roberts book she’d just finished-totally unaware that no one was listening to her-when she stopped at my desk. She gave me this big, goofy smile, like the smile of a proud grandmother. “Your essay was wonderful,” she whispered to me. “Such an interesting take on Hester. You and Mr. Rush are an excellent team.” Then she handed me a tan folder and patted my shoulder.
I opened the folder as she walked away, a little confused about what she’d said. Inside was a paper that I instantly recognized. Hester’s Escape: An Analysis by Bianca Piper and Wesley Rush. In the top-left corner, Mrs. Perkins had scribbled our grade in bright red ink. A ninety-eight. An A.
I couldn’t help but beam at the paper. Had it really been only a month and a half since we’d written this in Wesley’s bedroom? Since the first time we’d slept together? It felt like decades had passed. Millennia even. I looked across the room at him, and my smile vanished.
He was talking to Louisa Farr. No, not just talking. Talking just involves the vibration of vocal cords, and there was way more than that going on. His hand was on her knee. Her cheeks were getting red. He was giving her his cute, cocky grin.
No! Repulsive grin. Since when did I think that display of arrogance was cute? And what was this weird twinge I felt in my stomach?
I looked away as Louisa started to play with her necklace, a definite sign of flirting.
Whore.
I shook myself, surprised and a little worried. What was wrong with me? Louisa Farr wasn’t a whore. Sure, she was a preppy cheerleader-cocaptain of the Skinny Squad-but Casey had never had bad things to say about her. The girl was just talking with a cute guy. We’d all done the same. And it wasn’t as if Wesley was taken or anything. It wasn’t like he was committed to anyone.
Like me…
Oh God! I thought, realizing what that twinge in my gut must mean. Oh God, I’m jealous. I’m seriously fucking jealous! Oh, shit!
I decided I was sick. I had a fever or PMS or something was severely impairing my mental stability, because there was no way in hell I’d be jealous that a man-whore like Wesley was hitting on someone else. I mean, that was his nature. The world might have actually stopped spinning if Wesley didn’t flirt with poor, naive girls. Why should I be jealous? That was ridiculous. So I must be sick. I had to be.
“Are you okay, Bianca?” Jessica asked. She swiveled around in her desk to look at me. “You look p.o.’ed. Are you mad or something?”
“I’m fine.” But my words came out through gritted teeth.
“Okay,” Jessica said. She was just as gullible as my mom. “Listen, Bianca, I really think you should talk to Casey. She’s kind of upset, and I think you two really need to have a heart-to-heart. Maybe today? After class?”
“Yeah… whatever.” But I wasn’t listening. I was too busy coming up with ways to mutilate Louisa’s perfect little face.
PMS. This was definitely just a bad case of PMS.
I got my ass out of that classroom the second the bell rang. My head would explode if I had to hear Louisa’s girly, oh-I’m-so-happy-you’re-flirting-with-me-Wesley giggle one more fucking time. So what if she was as thin as my pinkie and had boobs the size of basketballs! I bet she had an IQ of twenty-seven.
Stop it, I told myself. Louisa has never done anything to me. I have no right to think those things about her… even if she might be a moron.
I threw my stuff into my locker and ran toward the cafeteria, eager to escape the school building. I was so focused on not thinking about my PMS-induced jealousy that I didn’t even see Toby until I skidded to a stop about six inches from him.
“In a hurry?” he asked me.
“Sort of,” I sighed. “Sorry for almost running into you.”
“It’s not a problem.” He nervously played with his glasses. “But do you think you’d mind slowing down the pace? I’d like to talk to you.”
I wasn’t all that surprised. Toby and I had kind of gotten to be friends over the past couple weeks. We mostly talked in AP government, but you know, that was a definite improvement. Actually, I’d even become somewhat comfortable around him. While my heart still fluttered a little when he walked into the room, I no longer worried about losing my voice.
“Sure.” I said. At least it would give me something else to think about for a few minutes.
He smiled and fell into step with me. “Can you keep a secret?” he asked as we reached the cafeteria, where the student body congregated, waiting for the final bell that would dismiss them for the afternoon.
“Most of the time. Why?”
“Do you remember when I missed school a few weeks ago? The day after Valentine’s Day?”