Rival(16)

Fallon and I were a lot like them. Only I didn’t love her, and she didn’t love me. I was infatuated with her once—and loved that she let me take my pubescent urges out on her—but we weren’t in love.

We were two people in a f*cked-up family taking our cues from f*cked-up parents.

And neither one of us knew how to do anything differently.

She stomped up to her room after pancakes, and I got ready for my party that was starting mid-afternoon but going ’til the next morning if I had anything to say about it.

I hoped that she’d show up, and at the same time I wanted her far away from me.

Fallon affected my body in weird ways.

But only because she’s different, I told myself.

The last time I saw her she was sleeping on the leather couch in the theater room wearing only my T-shirt. She had twisted her lips up as she rubbed her nose in her sleep, and I remember thinking how much I couldn’t stand her during the day but how much I wanted her when she put her forked tongue away at night.

Everyone at school thought she was a freak. They definitely thought she was a lesbian. And none of the guys thought she was hot.

Pretty? Sure. Even with the beanies that covered her head and the glasses that hid her eyes.

But not hot. Her piercings were scary to them, and her clothes were an embarrassment to any guy calling her his girlfriend.

Only I knew the truth. I’d seen her without the clothes—accidentally of course—and I knew what she covered up.

But that was two years ago. She wasn’t sexy to me anymore.

Now she was lethal. Despite her pale Irish ancestry, her skin was golden with the most beautiful sprinkle of freckles across her nose and under her eyes. Her hair had been colored. Whereas before it was a dull, light brown, now it was about three different shades of brown with some modest chunks of blond blended in.

Her green eyes stood out more than I remembered, and it took clenching every muscle in my body this morning to look like I wasn’t checking her out. Seeing her walk into the kitchen in her pj’s, looking like she’d been blissfully f*cked all night long, made me hot.

But what-the-f*ck-ever. That ship between us sailed long ago, and there was no way she’d redeem the damage she’d done.

“No one drives.” Addie pointed a finger at me as I set up my laptop and hauled my speakers outside onto the patio in preparation for the party.

I gave a halfhearted salute and shooed her away. “Go watch your reruns of The L Word.”

She rolled her eyes before walking up the stairs to her bedroom on the third floor.

We weren’t that pretentious that we kept the servants so far away from us. It was just that Addie was our only live-in, and the third floor was like an apartment in itself, complete with a kitchen, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a living area. It wasn’t always like that, but my father had it converted for Addie when he realized he wouldn’t let her go in his lifetime.

Fallon had taken off on her sport bike late this morning and had come back around one. Other than that, I hadn’t seen her. And by three thirty, my house was slammed with just about everyone from my graduating class. Jax arrived early on, helping me set up and put out the food I had had delivered. I saw Jared’s car parked on the side of the house, which meant Tate and he were in their room—the one I gave them so they could have “alone time” without her dad on their case.

Screw him. They’re in love, and I loved them like family, so mi casa es su casa.

“Come on, dude. Hurry up,” Jax pressed, carrying the tap for the keg while I grabbed the cups. Everyone filtered in and out of the house and in and out of the pool, enjoying the balmy afternoon.

“Jamison,” I called out to Ben, who was in the pool hitting on Kendra Stevens. “Don’t even think about it, man. I’ve already been there,” I teased.

“Shut up, Madoc. You wish,” she shot back, flying her hand across the water, trying to splash me.

“Hey, you were good, baby.” I shrugged, following Jax to where the keg sat. “For a fat chick, you didn’t sweat much.”

Ben’s eyes bugged out and Kendra screamed, “Madoc!” She kicked her skinny legs on the raft, spilling her drink.

I turned back to Jax, who was silently laughing so hard his face was turning red.

Pulling the seal off the keg and plugging in the nozzle, Jax poured about five bags of ice into the bucket around the keg, while I began pumping and pouring out the first few cups of foam.