Read Very Wicked Things for Free Online Page A

with all the blood rushing to my crotch.
    Already on the road to hell, I rose up off the ground and let my gaze keep on its path of perfect destruction, blinking at the sliver of bare midriff where a dandelion charm dangled from her belly button piercing. I’d had my tongue there , I thought. Lighting fingers flashed and jerked down her shirt, hiding my view. Not caring, my eyes continued their journey, past her swiftly rising chest, over her plump lips and straight into glittering eyes. Eyes the color of an angry sea, her gaze trapped mine, reminding me what a bastard I was.
    I’d come this far, so I didn’t stop, watching her jawline tighten and her nose flare. Disgust radiated off her face. She’d never forgive me for my sins. Not a girl like her. She had hope for the future; she believed in shit like following your dreams and finding love.
    She was the complete opposite of me.
    I grew roots in that spot by the lockers, and as people passed, I barely noticed, caught up in the images that flickered through my head like a movie, pictures of us intertwined and naked in my Porsche, pictures of me breaking her heart in the quad.
    Taking a deep breath, I mentally chunked those images in the trash.
    Must ignore her and the sweat that had popped out on my face.
    That period of my life was over.
    Yet , I’m sorry teetered on the edge of my lips, but never spilled out.
    Because if I told her I was sorry, I was inviting her back in.
    I stood there, feeling straight-up stupid, and waited for her to lose her temper and go off on me for touching her. I shouldn’t have done it.
    Did her heart thud as hard as mine?
    Did she ever think about me and wonder what could have been?
    A bell rang, shattering the illusion that we were alone. With a Herculean effort, I broke the connection between our gazes, picked my runaway book off the floor, and turned back to stare into my locker.
    I’d be lying if I didn’t admit my heart was pounding.
    After a year of avoiding each other—of me avoiding her—I’d taken a good, long gander at her and survived. Unscathed. See, it hadn’t been bad. She wasn’t all that. Yeah. Carry-on. Find another hot girl. They’re a dime a dozen around here. And hadn’t that been the way I’d dealt with her absence anyway? Hadn’t I screwed every faceless girl I could to forget her ?
    Yeah.
    And still she didn’t say a word at our lockers. But why would she? She was done with me.
    Instead, she huffed and slammed hers. I didn’t relax until the sound of her soft footsteps drifted further and further away. She was headed to English Lit class, same as me, although she sat in the front and I sat in the back. I’d sit back there and stare at her back, feeling one part miserable for our past and another part thankful she’d gotten away from me.
    One last furtive glance in her direction, and I saw Spider wrap his arms around her and lean down to give her a peck on the cheek. She stood on her tip toes and kissed him back, laughing at something he said.
    How easily she forgot me.
    It was obvious they were tight because I rarely saw her with any other guys. She’d dated some ballet dude for a while after we’d broken up, but it hadn’t lasted. Spider was her one constant. She’d always claimed they were only friends, but what about now? They talked in the halls, ate lunch together, and I’d heard she spent the night with him sometimes.
    He wasn’t good enough for her. Neither was I.
    His bleached white hair and lean build were in direct contrast to me. He had a reputation as a good guitar player according to Sebastian. So what. I didn’t like him much. No reason, really, or maybe it was the way his eyes shifted to Dovey whenever she walked in a room. He was screamingly obvious he wanted more from her. Were they having sex? My body tightened into a hard ball at that disturbing thought.
    Forget her . You’re a fuck-up , I reminded myself. And fuck-ups don’t get the good girls.
    Emma Easton, head cheerleader