The Perks of Being a Freak (Editing)

63. This Was Very Wrong. Oh Well

And then Simon was smirking, and I was afraid. A smirking Simon was never a good Simon.

“What?” He demanded, voice like acid. “Not good enough for you, princess?” 

This was a new kind of fire. I had felt the burn of anger, and the glow of passion. I had never felt this gross, hot fire of shame. Who knew a water witch would ever become so intimate with fire and heat?

“No!” I insisted, shaking my head. I had fucked up. I had really fucked up. “We fight all the time. You’re… you’re bad and I’m good and my friends would hate me… I can’t… I like you… but I can’t lose them again… This is wrong.”

“We’re doing something bad,” Simon said slowly, still smirking. “We’re breaking the rules.”

“Yes!” I said, glad that he understood and dying inside because he understood. “We are. We can… we can never do this again.” That sentence should have made me ecstatic. Why did my heart feel like it had been dropped down a flight of stairs?

“Here’s the thing, Jewel,” Simon chuckled. “Rule-breaking is my job.”

And then we were kissing again.

I honestly tried to fight. I tried to convince myself that what I was doing was wrong, and that I needed to get away. But deep inside my heart-of-hearts, I didn’t want to pull away. Simon’s arms were too strong, his lips were too soft. I didn’t ever want to stop, even though I knew that what I was doing was wrong. Even though I knew that my friends would never forgive me.

I melted like butter against him, and Simon smirked. I was slumped against his chest, head tilted up so that my lips were glued against his.

“Please stop,” I begged against his lips. We both could tell that my heart was not truly in the plea. I didn’t want him to stop, and that knowledge apparently made him smile wider. “I’m not going to be able to.”

Simon sighed and pulled away. I was relieved, and at the same time disappointed.

“Please don’t do this,” I whimpered. “Please don’t make them hate me.” Simon blinked, eyes wide. Would they really hate me just for kissing him? Hell yeah they would. “You can… you can hurt me all you want… I don’t care… Just please don’t make them hate me.”

“If they truly cared about you,” he whispered huskily. “They wouldn’t care who you dated.”

“Are we…” I fumbled awkwardly, blushing and stammering. “Are you and I… I mean…” I could almost see Simon’s thoughts. This was the girl I fought with for months, and she turns into a stuttering mess just because I kiss her? Simon snickered and kissed my cheek, causing another blush to spread across my nose and face.

“I’d like to go out with you,” Simon whispered.

“But you hate me,” I murmured, still red, eyes huge.

“When was the last time I seriously hurt you?” Simon asked, lips nearly touching my ear. “Any of you? I’ve thrown you around a bit, but always gently. I haven't hated you for a long time.”

“But… we’ve been fighting for so long…” I looked up at him from beneath my eyelashes. “There’s no reason why you should like me at all.”

“You’re smart,” he said softly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders tenderly. “Almost as smart as I am. You’re funny, and loyal, brave, caring, and fucking gorgeous. Not to mention, you’re you.” When Lia frowned in confusion, Simon explained. “You never pretend. You’re one of the most genuine people I know. You hate me, and you tell me that. You love Emily, and you make sure to tell her. When you’re angry, you don’t pretend to be happy.”

“I… I haven’t hated you for a while, either.” I admitted shyly. Simon grinned, but I continued and crushed his smile. “But… I am a little worried that you’re just using me, or trying to one up me. Get an advantage in a fight, y’know?”

For a second, Simon seemed indignant. But then he seemed to realize that my fears were perfectly valid. Of course I had reason to fear him, and to question his intentions. He had spent the past three months terrorizing my friends and me. 

“You always put the safety of your friends before your own. You’re brave, and loyal. Not to mention smart as a whip.

“I have to admit that I love fighting you, because you make it so graceful. I haven’t really considered it fighting for a long time. It’s more like we’re dancing. So I guess I don’t love fighting you, I love dancing with you.

“If I were you, I’d be worried as well,” Simon said. “But I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Lia. And I swear that I will prove that to you.”

I smiled, and leaned my shoulder against Simon’s chest.

This was all very, very wrong.

But I could deal with the consequences later.