Double Clutch - Реинхардт Лиз - Страница 60

Finally I pulled away. “Gotta go. We’ve got a group project on Lord of the Flies today.”

“I finished the book!” Jake said and ran a hand through his already mussed hair. “Holy shit, they were some frigging messed up kids!”

“I know!” I cried. “I hated that one who was Jack’s henchman. He was so creepy.”

“Stick-sharpened-at-both-ends-boy?” Jake grinned. “What a little freak.”

“How’d you like the ending?” I leaned back for a better look at his face.

His forehead creased as he thought it over. “I didn’t see it coming. I thought it was just going to be Armageddon. But I guess the end Golding wrote was more depressing than that.”

I looked at him for a long minute. “You thought it was more depressing than Armageddon?” I asked, curious how he could have possibly come to that conclusion.

“Yeah.” His eyes were serious. “Because it was just the truth. You know, no big war to blame it on or anything. Just the sad load of bullshit they all swallowed because…I guess because Jack made a world for them where bullshit was all there was.” His smile was lined with sadness, and his chipped tooth glinting in the morning light.

I shook my head.

“What?” He looked sheepish.

“Don’t pull that humble act with me. You know you just dissected Golding like an Honor’s English student. I want you to seriously think about share time, Jake. I need someone smart to debate with in English class.” My head was spinning. I had underestimated Jake’s English skills by a mile. I kissed him and put his cap back on his head. “See you after lunch!”

“Brenna! Um, do you want me to get you before lunch? We could eat together. If you want.”

Duh. We had the same lunch period.

It would mean not eating lunch with Saxon and his friends anymore. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

But eating with Jake was appealing enough to tempt me.

“I’m not really supposed to leave.”

He flashed me an eager smile. “Who’s gonna know, Brenna? Come to the dark side.”

“You’re a bad influence.” I leaned in and kissed him again. “I’ll wait right here for you. Don’t be late. They have lot monitors.”

“I’m never late.” He roared towards Tech, and I walked into Frankford.

Saxon waited in the lobby. He walked next to me, not saying anything for a while.

“Jake’s driving.” There was so much more to that statement than the obvious. Saxon’s ability to drive me had been a gold ticket he held over my head.

“It’s a farmer’s license,” I explained. “He’ll be able to get his real license in a month.”

“You don’t need a ride to his race,” Saxon said, his brows knit.

“No.” I bit my lip. “It’s better this way, Saxon.”

His laugh was coarse and rough. “Yeah, better for you, Blix.”

“And you.” I put a hand on his arm. “Come on, Saxon, this isn’t real. You and me, this is all a game, isn’t it? Why don’t we just stop?”

“I can’t.” He grabbed me and pulled me into the cove in the hall where the perpetually empty student planning offices were. We were tucked into a small, dark space together. His eyes were on me, gleaming with anger. “It’s not just a damn game. Whatever it is that I feel for you is more real than anything I’ve ever felt before.”

“Because you can’t have me,” I insisted, my voice high. “Because I’m with Jake. It’s just your testosterone, Saxon. And maybe your ego, too.”

“That’s a load of bullshit. I thought you were good at seeing through that.”

I could see the veins standing out in his neck, could smell the smoky, musky guy smell of him. I knew what his mouth tasted like, knew what it felt like to have his arms around me. I knew he had a strange loyalty that was admirable. I knew he would take a punch in the mouth as penance for hurting his friend. I knew so much about him, and then again, I didn’t know him at all.

And I realized he was going to kiss me. When we kissed the last time, Jake and I hadn’t been together officially. The only way I could forgive that time was because of a huge technicality. Now, there was nothing like that looming over us. If he kissed me, it would be an affront to my relationship with Jake, and I would have no choice but to tell him.

And if I had to tell Jake that, it would all come out. That couldn’t happen. Not yet.

I turned my head so his lips grazed my cheek.

“You want to. Don’t be such a coward.” His breath was hot on my ear.

But I kept my face turned away. He looked at me for a few seconds, his chest heaving with his excited breath.

He put his mouth close to my ear. “You’re a coward. This is bullshit.” He pushed off the wall and stalked away, and I sank down against the door of the student planning offices and sat for a few minutes, until the shaking stopped.

I walked to class slowly, realizing I would be late, but not caring. When I walked through the door a few seconds after the bell, I saw the entire class buzzing with activity. Only one person sat completely alone, looking like a deer in headlights.

Devon Conner.

My partner.

Everyone else had teamed up in pairs or groups, but Devon sat alone, staring blankly at his assignment page. Mr. Dawes read the newspaper at his desk. He was the kind of teacher who wouldn’t give a crap if Devon didn’t wind up in a group. When it came to classroom social politics, Dawes’s leadership style was a mirror image of Jack’s in Lord of the Flies; kill or be killed.

I walked in and grabbed the closest empty desk to Devon’s. He looked at me with naked relief on his face.

“I thought you were absent.” He sank against his seat and rubbed a hand over his forehead.

“I’m not.” I took out my book and notebook and clicked my pen. “What’s the assignment?”

Devon grabbed the paper and scanned it. “We have to break Frankford down into the island. We need to talk about how different cliques represent different people or groups.” He looked up and his small eyes searched my face. “I don’t think you would fit anyone on the island.”

I glanced up from my notebook. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not psychotically cruel, like Jack or you wouldn’t have agreed to be my partner.” Devon doodled small squares on the edge of his notebook. “You’re not a goody-goody like Ralph because you go to Tech and date Saxon Maclean.”

“I don’t date Saxon,” I interrupted. He raised his bushy eyebrows at me. “I don’t,” I repeated.