Envy - 2 (19 page)

“Shut up,” he snapped, grabbing the bal away and dribbling it down the court. Kane hounded him, but Adam knocked him off balance again, this time with a sharp jab in the stomach.

Kane dropped to the ground with a soft sigh, as if al the air had been let out of him, and Adam raced for the basket with a spurt of renewed, righteous energy. His path was clear, his mind was clear, and the basket lay straight ahead.

He got into position, readied the bal on his fingertips, imagining its perfect three-point arc ending in a nearly silent
swoosh
.

“By the way,” Kane said nonchalantly, stil on the ground where Adam had left him. “If I see your girlfriend tonight, should I tel her you say hel o?” Air bal .

After the basketbal game ended—rather abruptly—Kane rushed home to shower and change, then drove right back to school. He met Kaia and Harper in front of the dark building, their figures il uminated by the low-watt yel owish lights. Kane pul ed out his key—he had keys for almost every door in town—and they slipped inside.

There was always something about being in the school after hours, after dark. An il icit thril , the undercurrent of tension and excitement—the possibility of getting caught. The hal s that were so familiar and oppressive during the day transformed into a dark, shadowy no-man’s-land for them to explore.

It made no sense—sneaking
into
school would likely get them into no more trouble than sneaking out of it, which al three of them did on a regular basis. But there was stil something there—an unspoken feeling that just by being there at this hour, alone in the dark, they had somehow taken ownership of a side of the school its true owners had never known.

Of course, in a sense, they owned the school during the daylight hours too—so it wasn’t a big leap of the imagination.

They crept down the hal way, single file, keeping an eye out for the janitor. Kane went first, leading the way, unable to stop dwel ing on the game. It had been so easy to get a rise out of Adam—it was the kind of thing he did best. A skil that had always made him proud. At least in the past.

Next came Kaia, silently marveling at the excitement and nervous energy churning in her stomach, despite the fact that this little caper was far tamer than many she’d successful y pul ed off on the East Coast. Maybe it had something to do with the night before—the touch of Jack Powel ’s body had lit up something inside of her, something that had lain dormant for a long time.

And final y, Harper. Decked out in trespassing haute couture (black faux cashmere sweater, dark jeans, Sketchers sneakers in place of her usual heels, the better for softly padding through the empty hal s). She gripped the bag holding Kane’s digital camera tightly. Things were going so smoothly, so perfectly—was something about to happen to screw everything up? Or should she just accept that the universe was on her side, guiding her toward an inescapable destiny?

Kane led them to the girls’ locker room, unlocked the door, and flicked on the lights. They squinted in the sudden brightness, then got down to business. Harper pointed out Beth’s locker—it probably wouldn’t matter much on the smal screen, but they’d agreed that the backgrounds should match as exactly as possible.

Then Kaia took the camera and Harper stripped off her shirt—her height and body type were closest to Beth’s, and again, they’d agreed this was best. She unbuttoned her jeans, but then paused.

“Bashful, Grace?” Kane asked, chuckling. His laugh echoed through the room, bouncing off the grubby linoleum and washing over them. He’d already stripped down to his silk boxers. “Come on, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

She sneered at him. Stripping down in front of Kane was no big deal—it was the camera she couldn’t stop thinking about. And not just because, when it came to kinky fun, she’d never been into the whole Kodak moment scene. It was more that seeing the camera made it real. What they were about to do—and who it was going to hurt. Harper knew she could put a stop to the whole thing in a second—just cal it off, send everyone home.

Instead, she peeled off her jeans.

“You do know how to sweet talk a girl,” she said sarcastical y. “I know we al look the same to you.”

“Wel … that may be true,” Kane admitted. “But in this case, I mean
you’re
nothing I haven’t seen before. Or are we forgetting that fateful day after Shayna’s eighth-grade birthday blowout?”

“Kane,” Harper said warningly, shooting a glance at Kaia, whose affected veneer of boredom couldn’t disguise her sudden interest. Harper and Kane had vowed never to speak of The Incident again. And never had—until now.

“I, for one, remember it
very
wel ,” Kane mused. “You, me, a jug of grain alcohol. Good times, good times.”

“Kane! Shut up.” She bal ed up her jeans and threw them at him. He caught the denim missile easily and tossed it back to her.

“Chil out, I’m just trying to lighten things up. Just reminding you that my arms are not such an alien place for you to be.” Harper rol ed her eyes. “I’l never understand how you manage to get anyone to fal for that dirtbag ‘charm’ of yours,” she complained.

“Ask Beth—she’s fal ing for it, hook, line, and sinker.”

At that, Kaia cleared her throat and waved the camera in the air.

“Guys? Speaking of Beth, maybe we should get a move on with the task at hand? Much as I’m enjoying the Harper and Kane show, I don’t real y need to spend the rest of the night watching you two practice flirtatious banter.”

Kane nodded. “You’re right, enough flirting—”

“
That
was flirting?” Harper interjected. “We real y are in trouble.”

“Like I was saying,” Kane continued, staring down Harper, “enough flirting, down to business.” He mugged for Kaia and the camera. “Come on, I’m ready for my close up, Ms.

DeMil e.”

“Okay then, hotshot, let’s get started. Nice and slow.”

The next hour passed in a blur, a steamy montage of sexy poses and ever-changing camera angles.

Here was Harper draped in Kane’s arms, her head resting on his bare chest.

Flash, click.

And Kane tracing his fingers down Harper’s bare back.

Click.

Harper and Kane pressed together, their lips locked in a kiss.

Click.

And more, and more, and more.

Not that Harper was enjoying the rubbing and the pressing and the groping and the kissing of the fake hookup. And not that Kane was turned on by the warm, supple body writhing in his arms, her mind committed to someone else, her body al his. Kaia, certainly, could not have been taking a secret thril from the voyeurism of it al , playing the puppet master, barking out commands, suggesting poses, capturing it al on film.

Al three of them, they assured themselves, would never sink low enough to actual y enjoy the depravity.

Stil , when the pictures were al taken, the arms and legs untangled, the clothes back on, al three were sorry to see the evening end.

“Wel , it’s been fun, ladies,” Kane said, grabbing the camera and flipping appreciatively through the stil s they’d captured. “You look
good
, Grace.”

“You’re not going to start chasing after
me
now, are you?” Harper asked, feigning disgust.

“Oh, don’t be so ful of yourself. You may look good,” he pointed out, “but I look better.”

“On that note, should we get out of here?” Kaia suggested. “I think we got what we needed.”

“Here’s my cel , Kane.” Harper handed over her phone, with its own stock of photos stil intact. “So you’re sure you can actual y make this work?”

“Have no fear—my Photoshop skil s are second only to my carnal skil s—and you’ve got personal confirmation of those.”

“Gross, don’t remind me,” Harper complained, smacking his chest good-naturedly. “Come on, let’s go—I think after that, we could al use a drink.” They crept out as silently as they’d crept in, and drove off together into the dark night, the cel phone and digital camera safe and sound in Kane’s bag. It was the dynamite that would blow Beth and Adam’s relationship apart—and the fuse had just been lit.

The dunk tank guy, Greg, had been only too eager to take Miranda for dinner, and they’d met at seven that night at the one nice restaurant in town. It turned out he was a junior (a bit embarrassing, but not nearly as bad as if he’d been a sophomore), and when he wasn’t dressed like a cowboy, he was at least passably cute. Or at least acceptable. The ears were stil too big and the thick-framed glasses stil a no go, but she could at least handle the freckles. After al , they matched her own.

The dinner itself had gone, wel … okay. Miranda was wearing the sexy new outfit she’d impulse bought the other day, and while she was stil slightly afraid it made her look like a thick-trunked tree, she told herself she probably looked okay. And Greg, once you stripped away the nervousness that apparently made him act like a dick, was a pretty nice guy with an easy laugh. He seemed fun, witty, smart, and—what should have been the best part—total y into Miranda.

And that was the problem. Yes, it was great to be adored, but it wasn’t enough. Because when she looked at him, al Miranda could think was:
Yeah, he’s okay
.

As they walked toward the coffee shop together, he took her hand—and she let him. It wasn’t unpleasant, it was just—neutral.
Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be
, she told herself. Girl likes boy, boy likes girl—maybe the sparks come later. Maybe love at first sight is for suckers and Hilary Duff movies. Maybe, out in the real world, being smart and nice and funny and kind of cute was enough. No wild heartbeats, no movie-star good looks, no rapt gazing into each other’s eyes—just good food, good conversation … and an okay time.

That’s what she told herself, at least, as they strol ed through the night hand in hand. And she was almost convinced. Then they stepped inside the coffee shop.

And there he was.

Movie star good looks.

Her heart beating wildly.

Her gaze drawn inexorably to his.

Kane. And in an instant, she remembered what it was to feel, to want, to crave the touch of someone’s hands, his lips, to glow under the warmth of his smile, to light up when he was around, to suddenly forget the existence of everyone else in the room. In the world. To look at other girls, foolish girls, and think,
How can they not see what I see?

There was one guy in that room who made Miranda catch her breath with desire—and it wasn’t the one she’d come in with.

He sat at a table with Harper and Kaia. (It was only later that it would occur to her to wonder what Harper—supposedly home studying—was doing out with Kane, or what either of them was doing with Kaia, of al people. But that was later.)

“Miranda!” Kane cal ed out, catching sight of her and Greg and waving them over.

Miranda pul ed Greg over to the table to say hel o. She tried not to drool.

“Smal world,” she commented.

“Smal
town
” Kaia snorted, and excused herself to get more sugar for her, as she put it, “sorry excuse for a macchiato.”

“What are you guys doing here?” Miranda asked.

Harper shot Kane a cryptic look. “Study break,” she said quickly. Then she noticed what Miranda was wearing, and her eyes widened in surprise. “That shirt—I thought—when did you get it?”

Miranda did a little twirl. “You like?”

“It’s …”

“It’s ravishing,” Kane said with an approving grin. “No offense to your date here, but you keep dressing like that and he’s going to have himself some serious competition.” Miranda flushed with pleasure. It was the first time Kane had ever given her a compliment on how she looked—maybe the outfit had done its job. Maybe Kane would final y start seeing her in a new light, as more than just a snarky brainiac. Or maybe Harper was right, and seeing her with another guy had made him jealous and—

Oh, right. Another guy.

She suddenly remembered Greg, who was standing quietly, obediently beside her. Shit.

They’d decided on coffee instead of alcohol, since Kane had a long night of Photoshopping ahead of him. And it had seemed a fine choice—until Miranda and her date walked in. Harper almost spat out her mochaccino at the site of her. In
that
outfit. Fortunately, it seemed Miranda was too dazzled by Kane’s presence to wonder what the trio was doing there together. That was the silver lining—the black cloud, of course, was that Harper could tel from the queasy look on Miranda’s face that this Greg thing wasn’t going to work.

Not a big surprise—Greg was scrawny, gawky, and worst of al , bland. Under normal circumstances, Harper would have given him the big thumbs down—Miranda could do way better.

But these weren’t normal circumstances, and she was going to have to take what Miranda could get. Which, at the moment, was a geeky, gawky loser. That, however, was a problem for another time—for tomorrow. Tonight she was stil riding high on her triumph, and once Miranda was gone, she could continue celebrating in peace.

As Kane and Kaia bantered flirtatiously back and forth about who had the hottest drink, Harper zoned out, letting the conversation wash over her. The plan was set in motion now, and it was only a matter of time before the big payoff. She didn’t know how she was going to make it through the next couple days, hoping that nothing went wrong, that no one—

including herself—lost their nerve, and knowing that by the end of the week, if al went according to plan, she and Adam would final y be together. And when that happened, she knew, she would stop al this ridiculous worrying about what she’d done and who she’d betrayed—because being with Adam would feel so right, it would justify anything that had happened along the way. She couldn’t wait.

Kane lifted his mug and proposed a toast.

“To getting what we want,” he proclaimed, “by any means possible.”

They clinked glasses and drank up. Harper smiled weakly, suddenly glad he hadn’t suggested an alternate toast: “To getting what we deserve.”

“Can you guys just shut up for one second?” Beth screamed in frustration. But it was no use. Her bratty brothers continued their hyperactive race through the house, hol ering and squealing as they clomped up and down the stairs. Disaster was inevitable. Whether it would be one of the twins col iding with a heavy piece of furniture or Beth’s head exploding (or some combination of the two, featuring an irate babysitter and a blunt object), she didn’t know. But she did know she couldn’t take this much longer. The stress of the SATs always looming over her, the fight she’d had with Adam eating away at her, and now, these brats. The world was conspiring to drive her insane.