Precious Consequences(2)

“Hayley Tanner, if you don’t hurry your ass up, you’re going to be late for school,” my grandmother chides behind me. Ari slips past her and comes running down the hallway, jumping straight into my arms.

“Huwwy you ass up, momma.” she says.

“Arianna, don’t say ‘ass’,” I reply sternly, giving my grandmother a look. If we’re not careful, Ari repeats everything we say, including the occasional cuss word my grandmother lets slip when she’s mad.

“Sowwy momma.” Ari ducks her head into my shoulder. I kiss her head of brown curls and inhale her sweet scent. It’s one of the most comforting things about this little miracle, the way she smells and the way she fits into my arms so perfectly. We say goodbye to my grandmother and as soon as I start the quick drive to Ari’s new daycare center, she starts singing in the backseat. I watch her in the mirror as her little voice fills the car. Her happiness is infectious, and when her face lights up with hope and love, it’s easy to forget how she got here. But I will never forget. It’s a night that changed my life forever and a night I’m not sure I can bring myself to regret…



~ 2 years ago, December 2011, Senior year ~

I walk into the palatial mansion and immediately feel out of place. There are people filling every open area I can see. Some stand around talking, their blue cups filled with cheap beer, while others gyrate against each other to the rhythm of the music. I can feel the vibration of the music in my chest as it travels through the crowd in waves. I shouldn’t be here, and my mind won’t stop telling me to leave. But I can’t. I push my way through the mob of hot, sweaty bodies until I’m standing in the living room. Heads bob up and down as a new, faster song starts to play through the speakers. Looking around, I notice how the guys in the room eye my body with appreciation, no doubt after hearing the rumors that have surfaced at school. The girls, on the other hand, look at me with disgust, muttering the word ‘slut’ and ‘whore’ under their breaths. They’re half right. But I don’t owe them an explanation for my lewd behavior. I don’t owe anyone anything really; least of all insight into my sad, black hole of a life. I’m about to make my way back towards the front door, with every intention of leaving, when a familiar voice stops me.

“You came,” he says behind me. I turn around and come face-to-face with Kyle Henderson. The playboy. The football captain. And the boy I’ve been crushing on since I was twelve. He’s only a year older than I am, but his chiseled jaw, high cheekbones and light blonde stubble make him look far more mature than any other boy his age. And I use the term ‘boy’ loosely; referring only to the parts of him that, in fact, make him a boy. Kyle is a man, albeit a walking cliché with his perfect blonde hair, Adonis-like physique and roguish charm. He’s also trouble. And I happen to be in the mood for trouble.

“You asked me to,” I reply. A strange feeling washes over me, resembling something close to shyness. It’s unfamiliar. I don’t do shy, least of all with guys. But Kyle makes me feel it, however unwelcome it is.

“Funny,” he says. “I didn’t peg you for someone who does what she’s told, Hayls.” His lips curve into a smirk and it’s easy to see why the girls at school fall over themselves when they’re in his presence. His confident persona is disarming. I lift my chin, hoping that he can’t see the cracks in my superficial confidence. “I don’t.”

Taking a step closer, he stares into my eyes. “I’m glad you came,” he says. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Anything but beer.”

He chuckles. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

I nod. When he disappears into the swell of people, I feel eyes burning a hole in the side of my head. I turn slightly, only to catch Kimber Allen glaring at me. I can’t help the smile that slips onto my face. I know she was watching my exchange with Kyle and judging by her expression, she isn’t happy about it. Good. Maybe now she’ll shut those Botox lips of hers and stop spreading rumors about me. Or just stop spreading the false ones, at least. It’s no secret that she hates me, or that she has made the most of my self-destructive behavior and used it to her benefit. But I can’t blame her. I’ve brought all of it on myself, willingly, in an attempt to ease the numbness that has consumed me and feel something, even if it’s just physical.

I look away just in time to see Kyle walking back towards me, drink in hand. My eyes travel the length of him. His blue polo shirt fits him well and shows off some of his best assets. Broad shoulders, defined chest, strong arms. The designer jeans he’s wearing hugs his legs and I’m sure if he had to turn around, it would show off another one of his ass-ets. I snicker at my inside joke.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, amused. Realizing he heard me makes me blush, but I manage to keep it cool. “Your ex-girlfriend.” I reply, taking the blue cup from his grasp. I bring it up to my lips, tasting the harsh liquid and feeling it burn all the way down my throat. It’s disgusting. But after the third or fourth cup I won’t taste it anymore.

Kyle frowns. “I didn’t even know Kimber was here,” he lies easily. Of course he knows. Kimber would have made sure of it.

I shrug. Bringing my cup back to my lips, I watch Kyle over the rim as I take another gulp, and another, until it’s finished. Kyle’s eyes never leave mine and when he licks his lips I have to stop myself from mimicking him.