Ella's Twisted Senior Year (7 page)

Ella’s green apple shampoo overwhelms my senses as I slide my fingers through her hair, kissing her like it might never happen again. Her lips are soft and gentle and it drives me insane. This is nothing like making out with other girls. Kissing Ella is like winning a prize. How can my life have changed so much in the last few days? What did I do to deserve having such a wonderful girl in my arms?

Her knees straddle mine as she leans over me on the couch. I let my hands wander slightly, not wanting to push any boundaries that might scare her away. Finally, I settle with one hand on her hip, the other one holding her face while we kiss.

Her grip on my shoulder tightens. Her lips tremble against mine I pull back slightly, trying to see if I should stop. Her eyes are closed and she looks so freaking adorable.

I grin and she opens her eyes, frowning. “Why’d you stop?” she whispers.

“I was—” I exhale, shaking my head. There’s no time to talk, no time to explain. I need her lips on mine. She slides a hand down my chest and my body reacts, lighting up under her small hand. I wrap my arms around her waist, tugging until she’s sitting on my lap. We slide down the length of the couch and she settles on top of me as if she were made to fit right here. My hands slip into her back pockets and hers tangle up in my hair while we make out.

Although I’d be really happy with more of this girl, I could die happily with just her kisses as my last waking moment. My heart thumps so hard I’m afraid it might launch her off the couch, sending her flying into the wall. But I hold her tighter than I’ve ever held anyone and we kiss like we’ve been waiting four years to do this.

And I guess I have been—she’s the one who finally changed her mind.

Ella’s tongue runs across my bottom lip and I shudder. She grins and I lean over and press my lips against her neck, trailing kisses back to her beautiful face.

She squirms. “That tickles,” she breathes.

“What, this?” I murmur against her lips as I slide my thumbs down her neck while I hold her head above my own.

She grins and squeezes her eyes tight. Goose bumps rise across her neck and can’t help but feel incredibly proud of myself for getting her so turned on.

Her eyes open slowly and she leans up on her elbows. The fog around us seems to lift as clarity returns while we stare at each other. Her eyes go wide and she pushes off of me, scrambling to her feet.

I sit up and try to shrug off the feelings that have manifested all throughout my heart as Ella stares at me like I’m some kind of monster.

“We can’t do this.” Her lip trembles as she looks around the room as if seeing it for the first time. She points a shaking finger at me. “We’re not friends,” say says, breathless.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” I brush my jeans as I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. The sudden head rush from sitting up so fast has my vision spinning.

“Ella, wait,” I call out as she storms across the room. But she doesn’t go to the door, she stops at my weight bench and turns, leveling a glare at me.

She swallows and her shoulders fall. “I’m sorry, Ethan,” she says, staring at the floor. “We can’t do this. This can’t happen.”

I walk over, keeping a safe distance from the girl of my dreams even though all I want to do is press her against the wall and make out like the world is ending. “Why?”

Her eyes meet mine and there’s fire behind them. “Because I hate you.”

She’s said it before, but it hurts the most this time. “Yeah, I know,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. I guess deep down, I knew her newfound feelings wouldn’t last. “I’ll go now.”

Chapter 12

Waking up in the Poe’s house is an immediate reminder of everything I’d fallen asleep to forget. The tornado, the embarrassing school crap with Kennedy . . . and Ethan. I roll over and the air mattress squeaks. I pull the borrowed blanket up over my face and sigh into it, wishing I could scream.

How could I have been so stupid? That kiss was purely an act of lust. I was a little tipsy, he was totally hot, it couldn’t be helped.

The only good to come from that epic mistake was that it strengthened my resolve. I now know more than anything that I want to avoid him in every possible way. Shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll spend every waking second in this room or in the pool house with my parents. Or I’ll just stay gone as long as possible. Maybe I’ll take up an after school hobby or get a job since I can no longer bake cupcakes on the weekends for some spending money.

Ethan’s bedroom door is closed when I head toward the stairs, my backpack slung over my shoulder. The football guys are always late to school. Every football player I’ve ever had in first period always runs in just when the bell rings, or a few seconds later. I figured Ethan would be the same way, so I woke up thirty minutes earlier than usual so I can get the hell out of here without seeing him.

My parents are sitting with Mr. and Mrs. Poe at the breakfast table and they all say hi to me when I walk in. It’s like having four parents in some alternate reality.

“Hey,” I say, leaning over Mom to grab one of Mrs. Poe’s fresh baked blueberry muffins.

“These have flax seed and almond flour,” Mrs. Poe says. It’s seven in the morning and she’s dressed better than the other adults in the room. “Antioxidants and super healthy for you.”

I hold up the muffin. “Thanks, sounds good.”

No it doesn’t.

“You’re up early,” Mom says. She sips her coffee. “Doesn’t school start at eight?”

“Yeah but I have a project to work on. Wanted to get there early.”
It’s called Project Avoid Ethan.

“Um,” Dad says, rubbing his chin. “I’m afraid I have to take your car to work from now on.”

My heart stops. “What?” I say, although it comes out more like a choke of desperation.

“Sorry, Punk.” Dad frowns and I can tell he really is sorry. Probably more because he has to drive my girly car with the Harry Potter stickers on the back than sorry that I’m stuck without a ride, but still. “It’s only until I can get a new car. The car insurance will be paying out soon, so don’t worry.”

I heave a sigh. Dad’s truck isn’t worth much and if they’re getting a check for the value of it, they’ll probably spend it on our new living situation. And honestly, getting out of Ethan’s house is better than having my car back. I put a hand on Dad’s shoulder. “It’s fine. You can keep it as long as you need.”

Maybe I can get a ride from April. The last thing I’ll do is take the bus as a senior. I’d rather steal a bike and pedal all the way to school than be seen stepping out of the big yellow dork taxi.

“You’re a good kid, Punk,” Dad says, patting my hand.

“Why do you call her Punk?” Dakota wrinkles her nose as she enters the breakfast area and grabs a muffin.

Dad chuckles. “It’s short for Punkin. That was her nickname as a kid.”

Dakota nods and peels off the paper liner. “That sounds better. I thought you were calling her a real punk.”

Mom holds up her coffee. “It works on two levels, I think,” she says with a wink.

Mr. Poe chuckles and rises from his chair. “I’m headed off to work. Ben, the cable guys are coming over today to make sure the TV in the pool house works.”

“You don’t need to go through so much trouble,” Dad says. “Really, we’re grateful for the bed to sleep in. We don’t need a TV.”

Mr. Poe waves a hand. “No trouble at all for a friend.” Then he kisses Mrs. Poe on the lips and Dakota on the forehead before leaving.

I make a glass of orange juice from the fridge and try not to feel weird when my instincts have me reaching for the cabinet to get a cup. They’re still in the same place, just like I remember.

I struggle against the waves of nostalgia stirred up by this simple cabinet. “Hey, Mom? Where’s my toothbrush?”

She told me yesterday that she’d left me a new toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom since weren’t using the free hotel ones anymore. But last night there was nothing in my bathroom and I could hear Ethan downstairs with his parents so I just fell asleep with gross teeth. Now I can’t avoid it anymore, but at least Ethan is still in his room.

Mom’s head tilts. “I left it in the bathroom.”

“It’s not in there.”

Mrs. Poe says, “Which bathroom?”

“The one in the hallway,” Mom says, reaching for another muffin.

“Oh that’s the wrong one,” I say. I finish my orange juice and rinse out the glass. “The rec room has its own bathroom.”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know that.” Mom laughs. “How did I not know that?”

Mrs. Poe snorts. “Samantha, you know we were never allowed in there. It was a kids only zone for years.” Then she launches into a story about how the contractor messed up and made the bathroom two feet shorter when the house was built.

I slip out of their reminiscing and follow Dakota back up the stairs. “Hey, you should come to my room when you’re done,” she says over her shoulders. “Just, you know, if you have time.”

“Okay sure,” I say. I step into the hall bathroom and a burst of hot steamy air hits me. Ethan must have just taken a shower which means I probably barely missed seeing him. I let out a slow breath, relieved that this bathroom has two doors, one that separates the sink area from the shower area. If he’d left the shower door open, then all the humidity would have totally ruined my hair.

The new toothbrush and a box of toothpaste are on the counter. I ignore the men’s hair gel and the other two toothbrushes in a holder near the sink but the thing is, once I’ve seen the gel, it’s impossible to ignore it. The memory of how good his hair smelled last night makes me grit my teeth. Why does my best friend-turned-enemy have to be so hot? It’d be so easy to hate him if he was repulsive.

The second bathroom door opens and a cloud of humidity fills the room. My heart leaps. He was in the shower this whole time.

“Sorry, I’m leaving,” I say, grabbing the toothbrush stuff.

“You’re welcome to stay.” Ethan flashes me a sideways grin as he walks by, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair falls in black streaks across his forehead. My eyes immediately drop to his abs and then I look away, but catch his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He grins. “I’ll get dressed in my room.”

And then he’s gone and I’m left panting, my fist gripped around the toothbrush so tightly the package rips open.

Damn
.

In the rec room’s bathroom, I brush my teeth like a zombie, my body going through the motions but my thoughts are elsewhere.

April doesn’t answer my three phone calls and I’m starting to panic about how I’ll get to school. The school bus is
not
an option. The other option—well, I refuse to think about that right now.

Remembering Dakota’s request, I knock on her bedroom door and she waves me inside. “What’s up?” I ask, glancing around her room. It’s changed a lot from her Barbie doll and Dora the Explorer days. Now the walls are painted lavender and are decorated with black and white photos of European landscapes. It’s still pretty girly, though.

“Okay so, I don’t want to like, hurt your feelings or anything,” she says, and it sounds like a question. I lift an eyebrow, watching her do her eye makeup in the mirror above her dresser. “I just, well, I know you lost all your clothes and stuff,” she says.

I roll my hand. “What’s your point?”

Her shoulders fall and she turns around, giving me this smile that looks weird because only one of her eyes are lined in black. “I heard about how Kennedy told the whole school you wore the same thing twice.”

“What?” My eyes squeeze shut. “But you’re in junior high. How did you hear that?”

She bites her lip. “Kennedy’s little sister has a big mouth.”

I press my palm into my forehead. “This is so stupid. It’s bad enough that I lost everything in the stupid tornado,” I mutter.

Dakota says, “That’s why I called you in here. Okay, I know it might be stupid and you can totally tell me to shut up but, like, I think we’re the same size.”

She’s taking forever to spit out whatever she’s trying to say. I lift an eyebrow. “So . . .?”

“So I was thinking,” she says, sweeping her hand toward her walk-in closet. “If you want to borrow some of my clothes you can. I mean, I’m sure they’re all lame but I have jeans and stuff. It might help?”

I look down at my ensemble—the same jeans I’d worn the day the tornado ripped my house to shreds, and a black t-shirt I’d bought for five bucks at Old Navy this weekend.

“I could use some jeans,” I say.

Her half-made-up face brightens. “Awesome! Help yourself.”

After finding a pair of skinny jeans that fit me perfectly, I’m feeling loads better about going to school today. I’d told myself I didn’t care about wearing the same jeans, but now that I’m not, the relief is huge. Kennedy had, after all, pointed it out to the entire school. I can tell myself I don’t care what people think but in the end, I’m glad I’m wearing different jeans.

However, only one problem of the day is solved. I still need to get to school.

Ethan appears in the kitchen just moments after I come back down to ask Mom for a ride. I know she works in the opposite direction of the school but I’m desperate.

Before I can ask, Ethan barrels into me—okay well, his arm barely touches mine, but it feels like I’m being barreled into—and grabs a muffin. He takes a massive bite, and turns to me. “Ready?”

“Ready for what?” I ask.

He jiggles his truck keys. “School? Let’s go."