Manipulated Page 6

  "Is this yours?" I asked as I climbed in.

  "Yep. I restored her inside and out. Shoulda seen what she used to look like. She was tore up." He patted the dashboard lovingly.

  "She's impressive now. Does she have a name?"

  "A name?" He laughed. "No, I never really thought about it."

  "Figures." I shrugged.

  "What's that supposed to mean, sunshine?"

  "Well you don't seem the type to get emotionally attached to things or people." His smile fell, and another possibility occurred to me. "Or is that just the reputation you try to keep up?"

  "Why don't you name her?" he countered.

  I laughed and poked him in the arm. "Now who's being evasive?"

  "Hmm. I'll show you evasive. Come here." He signaled for me to scoot over next to him.

  I debated the wisdom in it, but he had that sweet smile stretched across his full lips, and I couldn't resist. I moved next to him, and he pointed to the center seatbelt.

  "Safety first, sweetheart."

  When I was properly belted in, he put his hand, palm up, on my knee. I put my hand on top of his and stared at the difference in size. His fingers were at least an inch longer than mine, and his veins were strong and thick.

  "So what did you do today," I asked as I slid my fingers through his, drawing my fingers along the lines on his palm.

  "Nothing exciting. I had to work. What about you?"

  I didn't know he had a job. Granted, I really didn't know anything about him. But the fact that he worked surprised me. It seemed so… responsible. "Where do you work?"

  "Master Max's Auto Repair on Tennyson. Been there since I was sixteen."

  "And how long ago was that, four, five years ago?" I teased. "You've missed a lot of class, so I'm thinking this can't be your first shot at senior year."

  He narrowed his eyes at me a few seconds before looking back at the road. "Choose what you want to believe, sweetheart, but I'm barely legal."

  "Oh, well let me wish you a belated 21st birthday then." I couldn't help but laugh at my own joke then. I knew he was only 18.

  He pulled his hand from mine, flipped his hand over on my knee and squeezed in that awful, super ticklish spot that made me jump and squeal with laughter.

  "Stop, no, okay you're eighteen."

  He flipped his hand over again and grabbed for mine. "How about you? Ever skipped a grade or failed one?"

  When I caught my breath from laughing so much, I answered, "I skipped second grade, but what do you really learn in second grade?"

  "So that makes you—"

  "I turned seventeen in January," I supplied.

  "Just a baby, aren't you?" He winked.

  "Yeah, cuz twelve months makes such a huge difference."

  "It's not the age, but the experience, sweetheart."

  I poked him in the ribs. "I'm sure you've experienced plenty of things I'm better off without."

  "Of that I am entirely certain."

  I was thinking of drugs, sex, and skipping a lot of class. But there was a sadness in his voice that made me wonder what traumatic events he'd faced. We were quiet the rest of the way to the party, which was only about ten minutes. It wasn't an awkward silence, though. I felt comfortable with him despite the fact that I had no idea what to expect.

  He parked the truck, undid his seatbelt, and turned to me, putting his arm across the seat behind me. "Okay, let's clear some things up before I take you in there. Don't take drinks from anyone but me. Don't set your drink down. If you wanna try something, I need to know about it first."

  I shook my head. "I'm not into drugs."

  He ran his fingers along the sensitive skin at the back of my neck. It was something I was really starting to love. "Whatever you want, sunshine. I'm not your daddy, but until you've been to a few of these things and seen the shit that goes down, I need you to trust me to guide you through it."

  Now I really felt uneasy. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

  "Risa? As long as you're with me, you'll be fine. I promise. Just don't pull out that stubbornness and shove me off. Okay?"

  I nodded. "Okay."

  He climbed out of the truck and put his hands out to me. I slid over to him, and he grabbed my waist to help me down, letting his hands rest there far longer than they needed to.

  "I guess I won't be drinking tonight," he said, staring at my lips.

  "Because you're driving?" I asked.

  He cupped my cheek and ran his thumb along my lower lip. "Because I can barely keep my hands off you sober, let alone with a few drinks in me."

  Sara had been so right when she said he was smooth. I really should have listened to her, but it was seriously too late for that now if my frantically beating heart was any indication.

  Inside, it was a crazy mess of people drinking, laughing, smoking, and dancing. The music was loud and everyone greeted Brodie. He gave more high-fives and one-armed hugs in two minutes than Presidential candidates shook hands. But he never let go of my hand. When the greetings seemed to die down, he pulled me out toward the kitchen where several people I'd seen at school were standing around a keg.

  He leaned down close to my ear. "You want a beer?"

  I nodded. I wasn't interested in getting drunk—I had bad memories from New Year's with Mom and Bill where they let my friends and me get drunk—but I knew I could drink a beer or two and still be in control.

  One of the guys from my English class who'd tried to hit on me several times stood in front of the keg as Brodie walked up. He glanced over at me then turned back to Brodie. "Bro—deeeee, man how did you get her here with you? She don't talk to nobody, and I tried. Thought maybe she was battin' for a different catcher."

  The other guys around him laughed loudly, and Brodie shook his head, laughing too. "You're trashed, Jamar."

  "Nah, man. I ain't trashed. I'm just a little wasted's all."

  Brodie laughed again and walked back to me with two cups in his hands. He handed me one and gestured to the back door. Outside, the smell of weed was super strong along with something else I couldn't identify. Brodie put his hand on my lower back and guided me to the left.

  "Brodie!' a blonde girl with bouncy curls squealed and got up from a group of people sitting on the lawn. She ran over and threw herself in Brodie's arms. She almost planted her lips on his, but he stepped back and held her away from him.

  "Mace, look at me." His voice was really firm as the girl focused on him. "What's the rule?" She stared harder at him. "Come on, what's the rule?"

  "No kissing," she said triumphantly. She ran back to the group and flopped down on the grass. "No kissing." She laughed, and the others laughed with her.

  Brodie turned back to me. "She kisses everyone when she drinks—guys, girls, dogs, cats, an aquarium full of fish once—she's missing a few brain cells, but she's a good friend." I nodded, and he grabbed my hand again, pulling me forward. "Come on, I want you to meet my friends."

  Brodie pulled me to the group, and we sat down. "That's Mason, the kissing bandit; Charlie; you know Sammy from Civics; Petey; Lara; Dana; and Jose back there. Guys, this is Risa."

  "Reece's!" Jose shouted and came running over to me. He dropped to his knees and his big, round cheeks were bright red. "I know you." He hit Brodie in the arm. "I know her."

  Brodie nodded. "Yeah, that's good, Jose."

  "She writes my passes and teaches me to say her name."

  Brodie laughed, and I really liked the deep sound. It wasn't like some guys with nasal laughs or those that sounded like it was forced. His laughter rolled naturally and was almost rhythmic. "And what is her name, Jose?"

  "Reece's." He smiled proudly. "Like Peanut Butter Cups."

  Brodie shook his head. "No, Jose. It's—"

  I put my hand on his. "It's the closest we've come in months, Brodie. It's fine."

  He winked at me. "Whatever you say, sunshine."

  One of the girls—I'd already forgotten her name—leaned forward. She looke
d a little familiar with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair and big brown eyes. "Hey, aren't you in my English class second period? Ms. Malone?" At my nod, she continued. "So you're new, right? Where'd you go before Armstrong?"

  "Los Gatos."

  Everyone turned to me. Brodie even looked surprised.

  "What the hell are you doing here if you were in Los Gatos?" Sammy asked.

  I took another sip of my beer and gave a vague, "Long story" as my answer.

  "Shit, no wonder you don't talk to anyone," another of the girls said. She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and put her pig-like nose in the air. "Must be like a shock to go from being surrounded by the super wealthy to being surrounded by dirt."

  I never thought of any of them as "dirt." Delinquents who literally skipped class and came in late every day, yes, I thought that. Criminals who were in the office being busted for, well, criminal behavior, they often were. But if anything, my classmates at Armstrong were real and seemed to stick together instead of turning their backs on each other when they needed you most. None of them had gone out of their way to make friends with me, but that only made them a more tightly knit group when compared to the superficial, turn-on-you-at-a-moments-notice people at Los Gatos.

  I wasn't about to expose all those open and festering wounds to everyone, though. So I did what I do best and put on my mask. "It's pretty sad that you see yourself as dirt. I'm sure your friends here disagree with your opinion of everyone."

  "Yeah." Mason threw her empty cup at the girl. "I'm not dirt. I may not live in a big mansion, but that doesn't make me dirt."

  The girl rolled her eyes at me. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

  I shrugged. "I really don't have any idea what you meant."

  The nostrils on her snout flared. "I meant that it's obvious now why you treat everyone at school like dirt."

  Now she was pissing me off, and while I'd never been in a fight, I had more than my fair share of anger bottled up for a rainy day or a bitchy chick. "Look, I don't know you. I've never spoken to you before, so whatever low self-esteem shit you're feeling is seriously all in your head."

  "She's always been decent to me," Jose mumbled. "Teaches me her name every day."

  Brodie put his hand on the back of my neck, and I turned to stare at him, trying to keep the anxiety out of my eyes. "She's sarcastic as hell when you're hittin' on her, but I'm pretty confident when I say she doesn't think I'm beneath her. Although I'd love to be—beneath you, that is."

  I tried really hard to hold his gaze and not look down in embarrassment, but I couldn't do it. I shook my head, staring at the ground and smiling. He chuckled low, pulling me into his chest and kissing the top of my head. I should have been insulted, but the way he kept throwing those comments around just made me crazy.

  "Whatever." Bitchy girl stood up and came to stand in front of Brodie. "When you get tired of this game she's playing with you, don't come crying to me to make you feel better." She walked away, downing the last of whatever was in her cup and throwing it on the ground.

  I looked up into Brodie's serious eyes. "So you two—"

  "No, baby. Just friends—well, just friends on my end."

  I nodded. So she wanted him, but he didn't want her. That explained the attitude. I looked off in the direction she'd walked. I actually felt bad for her. It couldn't feel good to like someone who didn't like you back.

  I've Kissed Plenty of Guys

  We sat there for a long time, drinking and laughing. Sammy was really hilarious with his imitations of teachers. He did an incredible imitation of Ms. Molin's perfect smile as she's practically cussing you out. I'd never had the pleasure of seeing it myself, but apparently Sammy and Brodie had witnessed it firsthand several times.

  By the time I'd finished my first beer, everyone was treating me like a part of the group, and I was feeling more relaxed. When Brodie got up to get us refills, Sammy and Lara launched into the most humiliating stories about Brodie, which really consisted of idiotic things he'd done while drinking or high. I didn't know how to react to the mention that he'd done some serious drugs. It bothered me—a lot. I couldn't help but wonder if he was still into that sort of thing. When he came back and heard the particular story they were telling about an incident with some pills I didn't even know the name of, I could see it on his face that he wasn't happy. I smiled, but I knew he knew I wasn't comfortable.

  He sat down and pulled me into his arms. "It was several years ago, Risa. I don't do that shit anymore. Drink and smoke cigarettes, that's all I do now. Max does random drug tests, and honestly, it's just not worth it anymore." He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes. "Do you believe me?"

  "Why wouldn't I?" It was as honest a reply I could give. I had no reason to doubt him. In fact, with my past experiences, my policy was to believe in those I cared about until they gave me a reason not to. I didn't know Brodie all that well yet, but I definitely cared about him.

  "I can't believe how fast he can get in a chick's pants," Sammy loudly commented to Lara.

  Brodie and I both looked up at him. I glared, but Brodie's expression must have beat mine because Sammy put his hands up in the air and shook his head fearfully.

  "Sorry, man. I just assumed. But you know everyone else is assuming too. You know that, right?"

  Brodie closed his eyes. I knew the rumors would fly if I went out with him. I wasn't naïve enough to think they'd figure I was some exception to the rule. But I really didn't care what the general population of Armstrong thought of me. Los Gatos thought I was a skank, so why not Armstrong too?

  I put my hand on Brodie's chest. "It's kind of funny that we're having sex and you've never even kissed me."

  He didn't smile, didn't move, just stared at me. I couldn't read his expression.

  "You haven't kissed her?" Lara asked. "Is he sick? Do we need to take you to the hospital?"

  The others laughed, but Brodie kept staring at me with that serious expression. No, not serious, intense maybe.

  "What the hell you waiting for, Bro. Kiss her," Sammy called out.

  "Reputation like yours could be ruined if word gets round you haven't kissed her," another guy teased.

  "No," he said softly to me.

  Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was being surrounded by all the taunts and teasing, but his refusal felt more like a challenge than anything else. "I don't think you really know how to kiss a girl. This reputation everyone talks of must be fake. Did you pay girls to tell everyone you can kiss?" I was smiling and laughing, but when his lips met mine, I sobered up fast.

  I don't know what I'd been expecting, but he pulled my chin down and shoved his tongue in my mouth forcefully, greedily. It was overwhelming, too overwhelming. My head was spinning, and I grabbed onto his shoulders in fear and sort of confusion. I'd never been kissed like this. Not even close. When he pulled back, I could feel him chuckling, but I kept my death grip on his shoulders. I opened my eyes, feeling them expand to the size of bowling balls.

  He put his hand to my cheek. "Risa?"

  I made myself blink and breathe. I swallowed hard and told myself to let go of him. By the third command, my fingers let loose of his arms, and he took my hands in his. He stood up and pulled me up by my hands, leading me away from the group. I followed him, still lacking a functioning brain.

  When we reached the side yard where a small picnic table was set up, he leaned against it and pulled me to stand between his legs.

  "Just pull away from me when you've had enough, okay?"

  My forehead wrinkled in confusion for a moment before his hands cupped my cheeks, and he pulled my lips to his. It was nothing like the first kiss. His lips were so soft and gentle as they brushed against mine. It was almost heartbreakingly tender and stayed that way for so long. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to get closer to him, which is when he nudged my chin with his fingers. He was gentle though, incredibly gentle, not like he had been before. I let my lips part, and his tongue sli
d along my bottom lip and in to touch my tongue.

  He moved so slowly, searching every inch of my mouth, rubbing his tongue against mine in a way that made me tremble. When I tentatively pushed back with my tongue, he let out the sexiest groan, making me tangle with his tongue all the more. It only took a second to go from sweet and gentle to so intense and overwhelming again. Not scary overwhelming like the first kiss, but it was overpowering and completely mind-numbing. I think a fire or an earthquake could have happened around us, and I wouldn't have noticed. Everything in me was centered on him, and it suddenly scared the hell out of me.

  When I couldn't catch my breath, couldn't calm down, and couldn't stop shaking, I panicked and pulled away. What was this? This couldn't be good. I turned and saw the open gate. My feet started moving quickly for it before my brain decided that was the plan. I wasn't even really looking where I was going; I just had to get some distance. I was petrified of feeling that out of control. I thought I heard my name, but I kept going, blindly walking as fast as I could.

  "Risa!" Brodie yelled as he grabbed onto my upper arm and pulled me toward him. "Look at me."

  I couldn't, though. I was scared and confused and embarrassed. I couldn't look at him. I shook my head and stared at the ground.

  "Risa, it's okay. Please look at me."

  I shook my head again and tried to pull away from him, but he wrapped his arms around me and rubbed my back soothingly. We stayed that way for several minutes until I was able to calm down and turn my brain on again. When my breathing returned to normal, Brodie loosened his hold on me.

  "Risa," he said softly, leaning down to try to see my face. "You've never—was that your first kiss, baby?"

  My heart was still beating to a tune I'd never heard it beat to before, but I'd recovered enough brain function to defend myself. "No. Of course not. I've been kissed before, several times," I told the ground.

  "No, sunshine. Not just touching lips, a real, serious kiss."

  My self-preservation instincts were kicking in, and I pulled out of his arms. "I have no idea what you think real and serious mean, but I can assure you, I've kissed plenty—"