Shattered Soul (7 page)

“Holy shit, your lip is massive!”

“Feels like it,” I said, pressing the cold water
bottle against it, not caring enough to wipe away the dribbles of
water sliding down my chin first.

He grimaced. “What happened?”

“Do you really need to ask?” I countered.

“Calvin.”

I nodded.

“What for this time?”

I shifted on my feet. “Sticking up for Jade against
my mom.” I kept my one good eye down so he wouldn’t notice my
dilated pupil. He’d have a panic attack if he realized I was
tweakin’.

Trip liked to smoke weed and drink, and occasionally
he’d pop a pill or two, but it was all in moderation, and all in
the hopes of gaining some attention from his parents, even if it
was negative. Trip’s parents were too busy being socialites
climbing their way up the social ladder to actually be parents.

For Trip, to be caught smoking a joint in the pool
house of the country club was one thing, snorting a line or getting
caught with something hard was quite another. If he got caught with
something like that, he’d be shipped away to the nearest rehab and
afterward be sent off to a boarding school of his parents’ choice.
Which meant, I needed to play it cool until my high wore off.

“Maybe you should put some ice on that,” he
suggested, pulling a clean rag from a drawer. I took another swig
of water as he fixed up an ice pack. “There’s a first-aid kit in
the bathroom. I’ll get it.” he said, handing me the ice pack.

I pressed it gently to my left eye. Trip came back a
few minutes later holding a clear case.

“Damn, man, hurts me just to look at you!” he said
setting the case on the counter beside me.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

Trip meant well, but I didn’t see what good a
first-aid kit would do for me. I was bruised up and swollen. Not
exactly something that could be covered up or fixed with a
band-aid. I opened it up anyways and sifted through its contents
for his sake. I grabbed out some Neosporin and dabbed some just
under my eye where the skin had broken and across my busted
lip.

“I think my dad might have a few pain pills from last
winter when he sprained his ankle skiing,” Trip said, and I
couldn’t help but chuckle. “What’s so funny?” he wondered.

“Nothing, it’s just those wouldn’t have lasted a day
at my house, and here it is the end of April and they’re still
sitting on a shelf untouched. Sometimes I forget how straight-laced
you really are.” I smiled, as much as I could without stretching my
lip too far.

He huffed a little, obviously my statement had
aggravated him some.

“If I’d taken any of them he’d have known it was me;
that’s why I haven’t touched them, not because I didn’t want
them.”

“Chill, it’s cool. I get it.”

“Want one or not?” he demanded.

I did, but I didn’t. I knew better than to mix too
much shit in my system at once.

“Nah, man. I wouldn’t want you to get into any
trouble,” I said sincerely, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.

I took the ice pack off my eye and touched it to my
throbbing rib cage, hoping again it wasn’t broken. I’d know for
sure in the morning if I woke up unable to breathe.

“So, your parents out for the night or just a few
hours?” I asked, shifting on my feet again, still zooted but trying
my best to hide it.

“Most of the night. We’ll probably hear them stumble
in around two or three like usual,” he muttered.

“Okay…and why are you home? I’m glad you were and
all, but it’s Saturday night and you’re parents couldn’t really
care less where you were.”

He smirked. “Because, I thought my wing-man had
gotten hooked up with someone and tossed me to the side for the
weekend.”

I grinned, and it hurt so freaking bad. “Nah, not
me.”

“So…what did happen with Ali last night? If I didn’t
know your brother so well, my next guess would have been Ali’s
po-po daddy got a hold of you.” He grinned wildly and I
laughed.

“Ah, don’t make me laugh!” I shouted. “You knew about
that, huh? How come I didn’t?”

He threw his hands up. “Who knows? It was floating
around school, maybe you just chose not to hear it.”

“Must have.” I ducked my head, trying hard not to
kill myself with another grin. “Not a whole lot happened. We went
to the bridge and chilled for a while,” I replied, gazing at the
marble tiled floor.

“Right,” Trip said in a drawn out sigh.

“Let’s get out of here,” I suggested.

“Where to?”

“Any parties going on tonight?” I asked.

He scratched his head. “Miranda Cooper’s having one.
Her mom’s out of town for the weekend.”

“I repeat…and you’re sitting here
because
?” I
questioned, knowing how much he liked Miranda.

He shrugged. "Like I said, my wing-man tossed me to
the side."

“Not tonight. Let’s go,” I insisted, setting the ice
pack on the counter.

Miranda Cooper’s house wasn’t but a fifteen minute
drive from Trip’s. When we pulled up, cars were parked bumper to
bumper in her driveway and lined alongside the road. Trip parked
behind a beat-up white two-door car, leaving himself enough room to
pull forward in case someone blocked him in from behind.

I glanced at Trip as he cut the engine, he looked
nervous as hell as he gripped the handle to step out. A prick of a
smile touched my lips, but I forced it back.

Laughter and the sound of Three Days Grace blaring
from speakers somewhere inside filled my ears when I stepped out.
We started towards the house, my mind buzzing with excitement. Trip
whipped out his pack of Newports and handed me one as the tiny
front porch came into view. I stopped to light it. A wide smile
crept across my face, even though it hurt like hell, as the lyrics
from the song playing seemed to stream from the speakers and flow
over me.

“Pain, without love. Pain, I can’t get enough. Pain,
I like it rough ‘cuz I’d rather feel pain than nothing at all…”

I chuckled. It was all too comical that this song of
all songs would be playing the second we walked into this party,
considering my busted up face and all.

“Perfect entry song, huh?” Trip smirked beside
me.

I nodded. “Yeah.” We walked towards the crowded front
porch.

“Who’s that?” I heard someone whisper once we got
closer.

“Seth and Trip,” someone else answered.

“Ouch, talk about pain! Damn, man, what happened to
your face?” someone asked as I started up the steps.

“You should see the other guy,” I replied. It was
nobody’s business what happened to me or by the hands of whom. Only
Trip knew the truth and that’s how I intended to keep it.

“Geez, how can you even see?” A tall slender girl
with long brown hair and curvy hips asked me. Sidney Owens, one of
Miranda’s best friends.

Sidney stood staring at me, holding an unlit joint in
one hand and an almost empty plastic cup in the other.

“It’s not that bad,” I answered, while watching her
glossy lips pucker around the joint she was lighting.

She handed it to me next. “Here, you look like you
could use something,” she smiled as she exhaled.

I plucked it from her fingers and suppressed a wince
as I puckered to hit it. I passed it to Trip next and licked my
bottom lip carefully. It tasted like her lip gloss, strawberries,
now instead of blood.

My eyes automatically shifted towards her as if
pulled by a magnet. Sidney was still staring at me, her big brown
eyes slowly grazing over me as she bit the rim of her plastic cup.
I tried to look elsewhere, but the way she was looking at me made
it impossible.

Sidney was hot and she knew it. We’d dated a few
weeks during our freshman year, but like all the others before me,
she’d chewed me up and spat me out once she’d gotten what she
wanted out of me; a little sex and a whole lot of weed. I didn’t
care, I’d enjoyed her just as much as she’d enjoyed me and when it
was done, it was done.

“You look like you could use a drink,” she said,
passing me the joint for the second time.

“Nah, I’m cool.”

Trip elbowed me and whispered. “Come on, man…sexual
healin’, go get some!”

I smirked and shook my head. Guilt pinched at my
brain and Ali’s face entered my mind. I couldn’t get with Sidney.
Not now.

“Well, I think you do and I need another one, too.
Come on,” she insisted, interlacing her fingers with mine and
pulling me inside behind her.

Trip’s eyes grew wide and he covered his smile with
his hand. Thoughts of Ali swarmed my mind, but I still followed
behind Sidney like a freaking puppy on a leash into the house.

We wove our way through the crowded living room
filled with people dancing in front of the speakers and laughing,
headed towards the kitchen. Halfway there, Sidney slung her long,
silky, brown hair over her shoulder and turned to me to smile. A
smile I knew all too well. Sidney was tipsy and looking to
score.

And I happened to be the lucky candidate she’d chosen
tonight.

Maybe out of sheer pity for my busted up face, or
maybe because of the history we shared. I didn’t know what her
reasons were, but I did know what she wanted by the end of the
night—me. And I didn’t know how I was going to explain to her I
couldn’t. Sidney wasn’t exactly the kind of girl you said no
to.

Hell, I don’t think anyone had ever said no to Sidney
Owens before.

We pushed past people, forcing our way into the
kitchen towards the butcher block in the center, which was littered
with opened bottles of liquor and soda. Sidney reached for a bottle
of Bacardi and sloshed some into her cup.

“Looking to get drunk, huh?”

Her lips twisted into a wicked grin as she reached
for a bottle of Pepsi. “That and something else,” she insisted
raising her eyes to mine.

I looked away and smirked. She giggled. Yep, I was
definitely in trouble.

I didn’t know what Ali and I were yet, but I knew I
didn’t want to do anything with Sidney tonight that might ruin my
chances. I couldn’t sleep with Sidney. I had to find a way out of
this.

Sidney reached over the counter for a sleeve of
plastic cups and handed me one.

“Want to pour it yourself or do you want me to?” she
asked in a honey sweet tone.

“I’ll get it.”

I poured myself a Pepsi and took a swig as the song
blaring from the speakers changed. Sidney took a swig of her drink
and began swaying her hips back and forth, dancing to the music
beside me and shouting out the words.

“Let’s dance!” she insisted, gripping my hand and
tugging me behind her, again.

“I don’t dance,” I shouted as we made our way towards
the speakers.

“Well then, just stand there and watch,” she breathed
in a teasing tone against my ear. “Hold this for me.” She shoved
her cup into my free hand.

I leaned against the wall, watching Sidney dance
seductively to the music a few feet away from me while holding her
cup. My eyes zeroed in on her lips as she sang the words to me.
They flowed from her mouth and wrapped around me like the strings
of a spider web holding me in place and making me her prey.

All I could think about was how hot she was.

In a lacy black tank top that showed an inch or two
of her tanned stomach and a short denim skirt with flip-flops,
Sidney looked mouthwatering and she knew it. The way her body
moved, so slow and seductive, mixed with the look she was giving
me…she completely turned me on.

I had to get out of here, and I needed a cigarette
bad.

I held her cup out. “Here, I’m gonna go bum a
cigarette off Trip,” I shouted over the music.

“I’ll be waiting,” she purred after me.

I shook my head and held my breath, fighting
desperately against urges that were rising within me. I didn’t
exhale until I’d closed the front door behind me. Joe, my middle
man, sat perched up on the railing, smoking a cigarette beside Trip
when I stepped out.

“Can I bum one off someone?” I asked.

Joe dug in his pocket and tossed me his pack.

“Thanks.”

“What’s the matter with you? Can’t handle Sidney’s
atomic hotness anymore?” Trip grinned.

I shook my head and handed Joe his pack back. “No,
it’s not that I can’t, it’s that I don’t want to,” I informed him,
lighting my cigarette carefully.

Joe remained silent as he took another drag, and Trip
didn’t have to say anything, all I had to do was look in his eyes
to be able to see how completely shocked he was by what I’d just
said.

“What do you mean you don’t want to? She’s smoking
hot!” Trip squeaked.

“I didn’t say she wasn’t.”

“Oh, man. Either you got hit in the head one too many
times, or else you’ve got it bad for Ali.” He obviously thought he
was funny.

I shrugged. “About as bad as you’ve got it for
Miranda.”

The smirk fell from his face, his gaze shifted to his
shoes. “Miranda…right.”

A moment of silence hung between the three of us and
I almost felt bad for putting Trip on the spot.

“You talked to her yet?” I wondered.

“Not yet, no.” he answered.

Joe chuckled. “Well, now’s your chance, buddy, here
she comes.”

I turned and peeked in through the well-lit window.
Sure enough, Miranda was weaving her way towards the front door. I
glanced at Trip; he was staring directly at her and I could see him
swallow hard. I put my cigarette to my lips and took another drag
to hide the smirk twisting onto my face. Poor guy, he was hopeless.
You’d think Miranda Cooper was a fucking goddess with the way he
acted when she was near him.

The door opened and Miranda stumbled out. “Any of you
guys got a menthol?” she asked, fumbling to close the door behind
her. It was clear she’d had a little too much to drink.

Neither Joe nor I responded.

“Yeah,” Trip answered.