Born Wicked

XXVI

The next morning, Ethan texts me while I'm eating breakfast.

Good morning beautiful. Call me if he doesn't show.

Last night I was positive he would be here. Now, sitting on my porch with my coat on and a coffee in hand, I'm not so sure. It's already after seven. I could walk, but if I'm doing that I need to leave now. Ethan lives on the other side of town by the Sound. It wouldn't take him long to get me, I'm sure, but it sure is inconvenient, he'd have to pass the school.

Resolved to walk, I set my cup in the house and grab my backpack. Calling out goodbye to Gran, I shut the door behind me. Standing on the path leading up to the house is a tall blond, his chin length hair slightly curled in the morning mist, hands in his pockets. His blue eyes regard me somberly. Idling at the curb is his bright red Porsche.

"I didn't think you were coming," I say stepping down off the porch. I move to stand in front of him, under the giant red maple in the yard. "Look, I don't want to presume anything—"

"Then don't," he cuts me off brusquely. "You ready to go?"

I nod. O-kay then. Not friendly this morning. Maybe Ethan was right. He might have a thing for me. Why else would he be so mad? It's hard for me to wrap my mind around, but it's glaringly obvious, right? But then, it's just as easy to say he just doesn't like me much. I've known Julian Cross since kindergarten, back when he was a tow-headed little boy. We've never been friends.

I climb into his car and buckle my seat belt. I tip my chin in silent challenge. "You don't have to do this, you know."

"I know that," he snaps. His hands clench the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

"So, then why are you?" I snap back.

"Because I care!" he bellows, pounding the wheel with both fists. He scrapes his hands down his face and there shaking.

Eyes wide with shock, a shimmer of fear sliding down my spine, I swallow hard.

"Do you have any idea what it's like?" he demands. "To want something forbidden? To not even have a chance because the choices were made for you? Do you have any idea how much I've wanted to have a chance with you?"

I have no words. Of course I do. I know everything there is to know about wanting things you can't have and choices being made for you, before you even knew the options. Stunned silent, all I can do is stare. He doesn't even notice, he's that far gone.

"I was too afraid," he says softly now. "Afraid of the Guild. Afraid of my dad. Afraid of you. Now Ethan is here and he has the one thing I wanted. The one thing I couldn't have. The one person," he swallows hard, "who hates me. You have every reason to hate me. Every right to. And I fucked it all up. I lost my chance, I lost my choice. Because I was too damn scared to do this!"

'This' he punctuates with the fiercest kiss possible. Even in my limited experience I know this. This isn't just need. Or desire. It's pain. It's angry and harsh and the wanting of so many lost things. Things you could never have. Like friends. Like dances. Like undead parents and happy birthdays.

His lips are firm and carved thin. I shudder. It feels... good. No, bad. Right. No, wrong. My hands are in his blond hair and I can't seem to let go. It's brutal and open and aggressive and honest.

He's the one who lets go. He wrenches his face away from mine, panting for air. I open my eyes –I didn't know I'd shut them. He has his head leaning back against the headrest and his eyes are closed.

Gingerly, I touch my finger tips to my kiss-bruised mouth. "What the hell was that for?" I whisper, my brows stitched into a frown.

His lips twist scornfully. "Don't worry," he says, sneering. "It won't happen again. I just had to know that I did it once. I guess I like to torture myself."

"Kissing me is torture?" I mumble dumbly. I feel so detached. I'm numb from shock and awe and guilt. Ethan and I aren't anything official, but we are more than friends, that much is obvious. There are so many blurred lines I can't see straight. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now.

He peeks over at me. "If you think kissing you isn't torture, knowing I can't do it again, then you really don't understand anything I just said. If you think I meant that kissing you felt bad then you're wrong." He watches me with a side glance as what he's just said sinks in.

I blush. I blush hard. "Oh," is all I say because I have no idea what else I can say.

He nods, his mouth compressed into a thin line, his expression full of self-loathing, and pulls away from my house. In ten short minutes we're at the school and he finally says, "Don't tell Ethan."

We've been silent the entire ride, both wrapped in our own thoughts, but now the first thing he says is 'Don't tell Ethan'? "Why not?" I demand hotly. "Afraid of how pissed he'll be?"

There a mocking tilt to his lips when he answers, "No. I know exactly how mad he'll be and I don't really care. However, I am offering you a gift."

"Me?" I ask, astounded. "How do you figure that, Jules?" My tone is mocking.

He leans over the console and is inches from my face when he whispers, "Because you kissed me back, Jayme." His is equally derisive.

My blood runs cold. I didn't—

You did, I berate myself. I kissed him back and held on for dear life. It hadn't occurred to me. I don't even know what to make of that either. Does it have mean anything? Something in the depths of my consciousness tells me, it does indeed.

I climb out of his car and shut the door firmly. Swinging my backpack over my shoulder I whirl on him as he does the same. "Just tell me what I need to do today so I can go," I plead.

He frowns. "Why would you want to go?"

Before I can answer, Ethan walks around the corner of the school. My eyes go wide with panic and when I spin around, sure enough his car is a few spaces over. Damn.

"Hey," he says with a smile and leans in to kiss me.

I pull my shoulders back and quickly dodge him, turning my face away. He looks... wounded. He searches my face for a few seconds and then turns and glares angrily at Julian, "What did you do?"

Julian puts both hands up in innocent surrender, "Nothing. I might have made her think twice, it would seem. Is that what's happening, Jayme?"

I turn an icy stare in his direction. The truth is, I can still taste him. It doesn't feel right to let Ethan kiss me right now, but I'll be damned if I let Julian make this kind of power play. Because that's what this is, right? Two boys in competition for the girl? I'm not equipped with the experience to handle this.

To make a point, I lift up on my toes and plant a heavy, fierce, open mouthed kiss right on Ethan's bowed lips. It's like putting a blow torch in a gas tank. Everything explodes.

Julian's scowl is black with anger and Ethan is oblivious, I doubt he remembers his own name, he's so caught up in... me. I feel the shame wash over me and I know this was the wrong thing to do. The wrong way to make a point. I twist my face away and jog toward the school, both boys calling after me.

I don't stop.