16. Abel

“What the fuck are you doing?”Peris’s voice hisses directly into my ear from behind. I jerk back, hand slamming into my opened locker door. The metal is cold and biting, sending a heavy wave of pain through my wrist. I grit my teeth but keep my eyes pinned on the contents inside, Lance no longer in my peripheral.

The school’s laptop they’ve loaned me for the year sits on top of four textbooks that I have for homework since I’ve never been allowed to take my laptop off school premises. A few crumpled papers line the bottom, along with empty candy wrappers—all green apple flavored, of course. Minus the Skittles, but that’s different. Skittles are always the exception.

Peris must have looked inside too, because he then says, “Do you not know where the fucking garbage can is?”

I curl my lips around my teeth, feeling the sharp press of my crooked canine. “And to what do I owe this pleasure, oh, team captain?”

“Shut the fuck up. You know what I’m talking about.”

With a sigh, I peer over my shoulder. Peris is staring down at me, thick, golden brown hair appearing darker in the harsh fluorescents above. His eyes are shiny with his indignation.

“Well, what is it you want from me, Peri? You want me to talk, or do you want me to shut up?” I tilt my head down to accentuate my glance upward through my lashes, darkened with a few passes of cheap mascara. I really shouldn’t have bought it—should’ve been smart and stolen it, saving the money for food for when I’m inevitably kicked to the streets. But it’s fucking worth it to see that muscle jump in his jaw, the flare in his nostrils as his eyes skim over the accented darkness.

Come on, Peri boy.

Ask me. You know you want to.

“Is that makeup?”

I wonder if he’s noticed the other times I’ve worn it, or if he’s only just now allowing himself a deeper, closer look at me.

Falling a little deeper.

My smile cracks my features. With a spin, I lean back against my locker, hooking my left leg over my right and crossing my arms. With my head tilted back, my hair trickles the back of my neck, a few strands tangled in my jewelry.

Lance’s stare is potent on the side of my face, but Peris’s is hot enough to burn straight through.

I let the silence hang for a minute, purposely flicking my eyes between both men openly gaping at me. The halls echo with conversation and heavy footfalls. Purple lockers slam shut, the second hand on the clock drawing near the sounding of the bell. And through it all, there’s only Peris. Leaning into me, closing the distance, and I don’t think he even realizes.

“I’m confused,” I whisper. “What exactly is it you want from me?” I jut my lips out in a pout just to watch his eyes drop. So fucking easy.

They always are.

“Uh, Abel?” Lance speaks up, his voice soft and demure. My lips twitch before I roll my head to the other side, catching Lance’s confused expression. His eyes dart between me and Peris, fingers twisting together as he worries his bottom lip.

My teeth gnaw on the skin just inside my own, picking until I taste copper. I don’t have to say a word to prompt more from him.

“Are we still good for later?” he mumbles as he leans in, careful to avoid Peris’s glare. So cute.

“Of course, babe. I’ll text you.” He leans back, pale blue eyes bright with surprise. Peris’s growl rumbles in the space between us, and heat burns across my right side. My fingers flex, skimming the fabric of his athletic pants. I clutch the material, even as I keep my attention on Lance.

His smile lights up his face, and two little dimples pop up like craters on his cheeks. I reach out to dip my finger in one, making his blush burn from pink to scarlet. I shoot him a wink, dragging my finger down his chin as he turns away and starts down the hall. The blaring echo of the bell sounds at the first clomps of his footsteps, and bodies scatter.

I watch them disperse, ignoring the ripples of Peris’s… anger? Displeasure? Who knows with him, honestly. It’s a new emotion every day with the fucker.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His words come out short, forced between teeth that refuse to unclench to speak properly.

“Are we talking about something different now, or is this question just a variation of the first?”

His left hand finds rest against a locker to my right, forearm extended inches away while he adjusts the strap over his shoulder with the other. “It’s always the same fucking question with you, Abel,” he hisses, sounding defeated.

I frown for a moment before shaking it off. “Well, that doesn’t tell me shit.” I huff a laugh, feeling the roll of my Adam’s apple with a swallow. “I’ll be honest with you. I have no idea what I’m doing—ever. But if it feels good, then I must be doing something right.” My lips part to blow a soft breath in Peris’s direction. As it grazes over him, his exposed, corded forearm pimples with goosebumps.

He moves quicker than I can blink. Fingers snatch my jaw, digging into the hollows of my cheeks and under my chin as my head is shoved back and into my locker. My eyelids flutter at the sharp connection.

Peris leans in, body pressed flush against mine. His dick is hard and hot and… shit. I blink up, slightly dazed and suddenly very turned on. I don’t care that people could be staring or the cameras could catch what he’s doing to me.

He licks his lips before they part in their own wave of hot breath. “Quit fucking with me, runt,” he spits out through a locked jaw. Then, he dips lower to breathe his next words against my lips. “I told you. No one else.”

With a curl to his top lip, he slams his mouth into mine. Our teeth clack, rattling my brain, but then his tongue is sliding against mine, rough and wet. My jaw falls slack, giving him all the access he wants. Through my lashes, I gaze at his closed eyelids, watch the flutter of his eyeballs rolling beneath the thin skin. His own eyelashes flutter against tanned cheekbones.

I don’t kiss him back, and he notices my abstention far too soon for my liking.

He rears back, features twisted into an incredulous stare, even as his fingers flex against my hip, having found their way there. He blinks with wide eyes trained on my mouth for the moment of three heartbeats, and then, he pulls away, posture stiff as he strides down the hall. Each swish of his legs is long and sure, ass flexing in his joggers.

My tongue darts out to swipe over his spit that landed on my upper lip.

Game on, baby.

“Uh,are you sure we should, erm…”

I roll my eyes at Lance’s hesitance as I speak through the joint between my lips. “Oh, come on,” I rasp on an inhale. The earthy burn fills my lungs, making my head spin as I hold it in. Then burning ignites, and I cough through it, working air back into my lungs.

He keeps glancing behind us, even though it’s dark, and it’s near impossible to really see shit in the spaces between street lamps.

When I’ve finally caught my breath, I huff, sending my bangs blowing back from where they escaped my hood. “Shit,” I rasp, throat gravelly, mind pleasantly warm and fuzzy. Lance is staring intently at a bush. “He’s not just going to pop out of the shadows, dude,” I deadpan. He mutters something I can’t make out but turns back around. My backpack rattles with the sounds of the paint cans as I hoist it up with my one strap, arm extending to pass him the spliff.

He takes it with an unsteady hand, eyes drawn to the cherry, following the smoke curling up. “You’re right, sorry. I’ve just never…”

“Broken the law?” I waggle my brows even though he can’t see it. “I’m giddy. I love corrupting the pure and innocent.”

Lance scoffs and ruffles his hair. “I’m far from it.”

I go to roll my eyes, but then I realize that takes too much energy, so I stop mid-roll. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s true!” he huffs cutely, still just holding the half-gone joint.

I shrug and dip my head toward it. “If you get defensive, it’s probably because you’re lying.”

It’s quiet for a minute as we trudge through the grass toward the school’s parking lot, now in sight. Lance finally hits it, immediately blowing out the smoke as he starts hacking. I laugh through my nose, lightly patting his back with a heavy arm as he coughs and spits on the ground.

By the time he stands back up, his eyes are glimmering with wetness streaking down his cheeks. “First time?” I ask with a curl to my lips, already knowing the answer.

“How’d you guess?” he croaks as he hands it back, making me laugh all over again. I pat his shoulder before pinching the cherry between my fingers and flicking it to the ground. Then I lift my foot and tap the end to the midsole to make sure it’s extinguished before slipping it in my front pocket.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Get used to it.”

We walk in silence for a few minutes, only the sound of our breaths and footsteps permeating the cool air. When we near the edge of the large lot, Lance starts jerking his head around, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“It’s like, thirty something degrees out right now. Are you seriously sweating?” The reminder of the chill has me hunching my shoulders to my ears, now numb from the breeze.

“I’m nervous!” he whisper-shouts, voice wavering. And I can’t help it, I burst out laughing. The sound of my cackle bounces around the vacant space, refracting louder. “Someone’s paranoid.”

“Shut up! If we get caught, we’re getting expelled. This is—this is defacement of property! And the weed—” He cuts off with a sour, pinched face.

Jesus, I’m glad smoking doesn’t make me paranoid. “Oh, chill out. It’s just pot.”

Lance balks. “Just—you’re insane, you know that?”

I scan the empty lot. “Yeah, I’ve been told,” I respond absentmindedly. “Now, where the hell is his parking space?”

Lance points somewhere to my right. “Over there. They give the seniors front parking.”

“Excellent. Follow me, my dearly corrupted.”

His footsteps are loud clomps behind me. I kick a rock with the toe of my scuffed shoe as I step over a crack, watching it skip as Lance mumbles to himself, probably regretting ever agreeing to my little adventure.

“You’re harshing my mellow,” I call back to him.

“This is mellow? What the fuck else do you do if this—this is relaxing to you?”

I tilt my head to the right as I slow my steps, waiting for him so I can mirror his pace. “Babe, we fucked around in the choir room. At school. After it was closed.”

He stutters, and I catch a flash of his flushed face as we pass by a light pole. “Well, yeah, but?—”

“This isn’t any different. It’s all an adrenaline rush if you do it right, hence getting stoned first. The vibes marry perfectly. If you don’t get paranoid,” I add on a mumble.

“There’s a right way to graffiti?” Gods, what an innocent little baby I have here.

I nod, tucking my hair behind my ears beneath my hood. “Absolutely. Just follow my lead, buddy boy. I’ll never steer you wrong.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.”

My cackle follows us through the shadows.

“There. Perfect.”My smile mimics the one painted before me.

“He’s gonna kill you. He is literally going murder you. Probably in your sleep. Since you live in the same fucking house!” Lance is bordering on the edges of panic. I pat his shoulder, smearing a streak of pink spray paint over his dark coat.

I click my tongue. “Sorry about that.” I swipe at the wet paint, only sufficing to smear it more, so I drop my arm to stare down at the absolute masterpiece I created for Peris. “Why are you so worried about what Peris does to me?”

“Because you’re my friend,” Lance responds easily, like it’s obvious. His answer warms my stomach, the unfamiliar sensation fluttering around inside me. I squirm against it, shifting on my feet.

“Well… Cool, then.” Wow, so eloquent, Abel. For fuck’s sake.

“I don’t know what you do to him, but you really seem to irritate him.”

With one last glance at Peris’s decorated parking spot, I shove the now-empty spray paint cans back in my bag. Lance starts in the direction of his house, so I follow behind, still readily avoiding the cracks in the asphalt.

“How do you mean?”

“I dunno. Just that he’s… rude to you, I guess. He’s always been a bit of an asshole, but nothing like when you’re around, so it’s just weird.”

“Hmm.” I let the vibration settle on my tongue as I chew over my response. “Sometimes, all it comes down to is finally meeting someone who shares your madness.” I didn’t mean to say that out loud, let alone to another person, but my tongue is heavy, and my mind is somewhere a few feet above my body. But now, it’s out there, percolating in the cold, autumn air, shrouded by a darkness I feel on an intimate level.

“Madness?” Lance parrots. I jolt when I step down from the curb, back on the concrete of a side street. Lance doesn’t lose stride, even as I fall behind.

I swallow the revelation of abraded skeletons. “Yeah, madness.” That’s all it’ll ever be.

I fallover the threshold when the doorknob slips from between my fingers. “Oh, fuck,” I mumble through a mouthful of skittles. The ground comes toward me at a slow crawl, shimmering with an iridescent hue around the edges.

Hot, hard arms clamp around me, and I giggle when the force of momentum stills and I’m able to swallow. Oak and spicy citrus floods my nostrils, and I bury my nose into the smell, humming happily as it licks across my brain like a warm blanket.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

My abdomen contracts on another snicker, and my head rocks back and forth against hard muscle and bone. Fingers flex, digging into my ribs, and while the pressure should hurt, it feels like touching air.

“You think this is funny?” Peris’s incensed tone floods directly down my ear canal. I flinch away from the volume, feeling like a wave when my body reacts to the stimuli two seconds too late.

Solid warmth leaves me cold and bereft. I blink at the vacant space in front of me, now on my own two feet that don’t really feel like my feet. Something crinkly is shoved against my chest. “Look what they fucking gave me since you decided you weren’t going to show up for your practice today,” he sneers the word like it’s dirty coming from his tongue. I giggle at the way his face is twisted, like he ate one of my sour candies.

Wrapped in clear plastic is pleated purple and white polyester. My cheer uniform. I blink. Swallow against my cottonmouth. Glance up through dark, damp lashes. “Want me to try it on for you?”

Peris splutters, cheeks flushing. “Try it—n-no.”

One eye squints as the other takes in his wide eyes. “Got it for you, though,” I respond slowly. The carpet twinkles with small, black dots. They almost look like diamonds.

My face floods with a prickling warmth that ignites through my throat, down the length of each arm. “Think, m’too high,” I slur, running my tongue along the roof of my mouth as my jaw creaks open and shut, again and again.

“You’re fucking high right now?”

“Mmm.” My eyes fall, leaving only a sliver of lavender-colored walls and bare toes curled into the carpet.

“Jesus Christ,” is uttered very close to my face, and then the world flips, gravity pulling my stomach, then twisting it into a swooping knot. I grunt at the pressure against my abdomen. Blood rushes to my head, making everything hot and compact.

I sway with every thunderous step Peris takes down the hall, loosening my muscles to glide with the movement because it’s much easier than keeping my muscles tense when they feel like fuzzy jelly.

The world flips once more with a hand braced on my back, another around my nape, and then I’m falling, falling…

I grunt when I crash onto something soft. It puffs up around me like a pillowy cloud. Lavender and spice wafts up, making me hum as I curl to bury my nose in it.

“Go to sleep.” Those words trail after him, cascading notes carried in the air as Peris slips out, closing the door behind him.

My ears ring in the silence—a sharp, piercing note that drags on forever in its crescendo. Gooseflesh prickles my skin as the perception of darkness begins to seep in, but I can’t do anything about it.

I’ve never gotten so high in my life, and the fear of being out of control washes over me like a tidal wave during a storm, instant and consuming. I can’t feel my breath in my lungs or the softness of the blanket against my face. But I see the light spilling beneath the crack in the door.

So, that’s where I keep my eyes as I smooth my face into the edge of a pillow. Footsteps echo, their soft thuds not loud enough, but I still strain to follow their path, thinking of where he’s at in the house.

The kitchen. The refrigerator opens, followed by the clank of a water bottle as it fills with ice. It closes. More steps but softer this time. On carpet.

My door opens, followed by soft footsteps bleeding through the shadows. I try to lift my head when Peris draws near, but I’m weighted down by something invisible.

He shoves his hand beneath my head, lifting me up slightly. “Take a drink. Your cotton mouth has to be terrible.”

I giggle as a straw meets my tingling lips. And then, water is trickling down my esophagus, and I’m groaning at the ecstasy, even as my stomach rolls with hunger. The ache burning my throat eases, and time melts into a slow crawl, heavy with a buzz I can’t follow as it pulls me under its wing.