Part 47 (1/2)

I wasn't thinking straight. I remember being so p.i.s.sed-some at my dad, but mostly at this woman for destroying my family, and making my mother cry. I jumped on my bike, and rode all the way over to Dean's neighborhood, forty-five minutes away by bike. I barely felt the burn in my leg muscles as I pedaled at a furious speed to Dean's house.

I don't know what I thought I was going to do once I got there. But I saw Dean in his driveway, dragging boxes out of the garage, his dark hair flopping into his eyes-and something just snapped in me. I rode right up to him, and started screaming at him. I called both him and his mother every bad name I could think of-and that was a lot, thanks inadvertently to Mich.e.l.le.

I remember Dean's face getting darker and more thunderous as I ranted on, his odd-colored eyes narrowing when I started pus.h.i.+ng him. He never hit me back-but when I called his mother something very terrible, he got p.i.s.sed enough to pick up my bike and throw it out of his driveway, hard enough to break the chain and a handlebar. A man came out of the house after that, and I got scared and ran away, leaving my broken bike behind. Thankfully, Diego's house was just a couple of streets down, and his mother was nice enough to drive me home.

The next day, I found my bike leaning against our garage door, good as new. I never saw Dean at the park again after that.

I guess I never thought about it, but he must have found out about him mom's affair from me. He did look stunned when I screamed at him about it. What an awful way for Dean to find out. At the time, I wasn't concerned about his feelings. He was the boy who made my life miserable, and his mom was the woman who ruined it. I hated them both.

It's strange to realize how much our lives have intersected. You'd think we were destined to be together, or something.

Chapter 51.

By the end of school the next day, I'm about ready to crawl my car, and burst into tears. Rumors are swirling through the air about the nasty little s.k.a.n.k (me) being pa.s.sed around between the football players (mainly Dean and Johnny, but apparently they're generous) like a collection plate. It's like my first day here, but worse because of Dean's involvement. Everyone seems to know about that kiss yesterday-and a lot of girls are p.i.s.sed. Dean Youngblood doesn't go around kissing girls like me. He's supposed to be unattainable, and there are at least thirty-eight girls ahead of me that would have made much more sense for him to want. So I must do things that good girls don't, right? That's what they tell me, anyway. I've never heard of most of those moves they accuse me of being an expert at, and I make the mistake of looking some of them up. I have to wonder why there is even a technical term for that thing with the bottle caps. It doesn't seem physically possible to me.

Tanya warns me not to go online, because it's even worse in cybers.p.a.ce. Awesome. I don't care anymore. I've never been gossiped about so much in my life, since going to this s.h.i.+tty school. I remind myself that I only have a few months left, then I'll go off to college, and they can all go to h.e.l.l.

Yeah, tough words from someone who is currently sniffing back big baby tears. What they're saying hits too close to home. I could have gone my whole life without being called a (insert bodily fluid here) dumpster. Some of these rich chicks are brutal with their insults. Do they hang out in dark alleys to learn to talk like that? My G.o.d.

So, between all the direct confrontations and whispered accusations, I'm just done for the day. I make a beeline for the parking lot with my head down, and mowing down any unsuspecting freshmen unlucky enough to get in my way. If I can just get to my car, I'll be okay. I can go home and pretend like this day never happened.

Well, that was the plan-until I get to my parking spot, and find Dean leaning against my car like it's never been leaned on before. My heart nearly lunges out of my chest at the sight of him. He's wearing jeans and a gray s.h.i.+rt, not his uniform, which confirms my suspicion that he skipped school today. He looks amazing-I can never not notice. Oh, my G.o.d. Now I know why they use hot models to sell cars. I would buy my old Nissan again, if Dean came with it.

His gaze zeroes in on me standing there like a statue, and he immediately straightens. His expression goes from closed off to one of imperious determination. He starts to take a step toward me.

This morning, I would have given my entire carousel horse collection for Dean to talk to me again. Now-I just want to go home. I am too close to the edge of my limits to hear anything he has to say right now. That's why I do an abrupt about-face-and slam nose first into a rock hard chest.

”Wrong direction, girl.” Big Mack chuckles as he steadies me with both hands. ”Home is that way.” He nods his chin toward Dean.

I hold my tender nose while trying to get around him. ”I forgot something in my locker,” I lie.

”Come on, it can wait until tomorrow,” Mack says, and picks me up when I refuse to turn back again.

I hold myself as stiffly as possible, but not like it's any kind of impediment for him. He just carries me over to Dean, and plops me down right in front of him. I should have never made that wish about Mack carting me around because look what happens! Humiliating.

”Thanks, Mack,” Dean says quietly, watching me.

Mack flashes us both a dazzling white grin. ”No problem, cuz. I'll see you two later.”

I glare at Mack's retreating back for a couple of satisfying seconds before I turn to Dean with a sigh. ”Look, can we talk later? I really need to go home, and-I really can't do this right now.”

”It's important,” he says, looking down at me with an immovable expression. ”I wouldn't bother you if it wasn't.”

I take my time debating internally while he waits patiently. I don't care how good an excuse he has, he still cut me open-and it is so hard right now to pretend that his presence isn't shattering me into a million pieces right now.

”Fine, but not here,” I decide, glancing around at all the nosy groups of people loitering around to watch us. ”Meet me at Sally Brown park.”

Dean's eyebrows go up at that. It was the first place I could think of, which is really weird. Well, I guess it's as good a place as any. Without waiting for an answer, I open my car door, throw my bag in the pa.s.senger seat, and slide in. By the time I start the engine, Dean's is striding over to the Pontiac, parked in the row across from me. He glances over his shoulder at me as I pull out of my s.p.a.ce. I wonder if he's worried I'll ditch him?

Maybe that's why he follows right on my tail to Sally Brown. He parks in the stall next to mine, and is just getting out while I'm already walking up the hill. It's windy today, so I wrap my arms around myself for warmth and let the breeze blow my hair back.

I experience a pleasant jolt of nostalgia. Nothing's really changed in the years that I was last here, though everything looks smaller than I remember. Hm, I guess it's a matter of perspective. There are little kids crawling all over the play equipment, and the field is currently the scene of an intense soccer match. Along the edges of the game are populated with parents in fold-out chairs, or sprawled on blankets. Man, I picked the wrong time and location to have a private talk.

Well, there's no one on top of this hill. With a little shrug, I drop down into a sitting position, careful to keep my skirt over my thighs. Seconds later, Dean lowers himself next to me. He doesn't say anything, and we watch the game for a while. The soccer players are pre-teen girls, and they are fierce. More than a few of them are staring our way-rather, Dean's way. Oh, ouch! One gaping girl just got beamed in the head with the ball. I can totally sympathize.

I'm really hoping Dean doesn't notice that I'm shaking so hard right now, just from being next to him. He's so close, his arm and leg keep brus.h.i.+ng against me. My skin craves the contact like sunlight after being in the dark for a year. I can't help but think of that night he touched me everywhere.

I turn my flaming face into the wind, hoping to cool it off. When I sneak a glance at Dean, I notice how rigid his muscles are. He's looking at me like I hold the answers to every question.

”You went to Liddell,” he says finally. ”Why?”

I look up at him with the beginnings of a frown. ”What do you mean?” I say angrily. ”I told her the truth. What, did you think I was going to let you go down for something you didn't do because of what you said to me?”

”I wouldn't have blamed you,” Dean says quietly. His attention seems to be on the soccer game in front of us.

I restlessly pluck at the blades of gra.s.s by my legs. ”Yeah, well, it wouldn't have been right. Besides, I know you didn't mean any of it.”

His gaze is sharp when he looks back at me. ”You know?” he repeats.

”Yeah.” I struggle to appear nonchalant as I give a little shrug. ”You would never hurt me like that. You're not that kind of person. I trust you.”

Dean holds my gaze for a long moment. Then he shakes his head, laughing incredulously. ”You're amazing,” he murmurs, not in a mean way.

I s.h.i.+ft so I'm on my knees, facing him attentively. ”I figure Kara has something on you, right? You're not...are you the arsonist?”

His eyes widen, the he starts chuckling again. ”No,” he chokes out.

”I didn't think so.” I flush slightly. ”You used to steal cars luxury cars in L.A., then. And Kara has proof.”

This time Dean gives me a small enigmatic smile. ”She doesn't have proof of anything.”

I narrow my eyes at him. ”Then what does she have?”

His smirk fades, his expression turning grim. ”It's bad,” he admits softly.

”Tell me.”

Dean looks up at me. ”She has a video of us having s.e.x.”

I can only stare at him in absolute horror. It feels like an ice cold bucket of dread has been thrown in my face. ”What?” I finally gasp, violently hoping that I heard wrong.

”You remember Dan mentioning that she'd been out on the boat that day? Finley told her that they were expecting us for the night. She paid him to film us in the cabin.”

I run my shaking hands over my face. ”She what? But...how? We saw him leave with Captain Dan after they served us dinner!”

Dean's face is dark with carefully suppressed rage. ”He jumped off, and swam back. When we were distracted, he sneaked on board and hid in the master cabin. All he had to do was wait until we went below. He recorded us from the head with the door cracked open.”