She looked at my bed for a second before glancing back at me. “Why are you being so nice to me, Eric? Is it because you feel bad for me?”
Yes. No.
I shrugged. “Sure, if that’s what you want to hear. But really, you’re in no position to be asking such things, so why don’t you just accept it and get some sleep while you can.” I was being harsh. I knew I was. But it was the only way I could be without being submissive when it came to her.
She looked over to the bed again, hesitating. “Where will you sleep?” Her voice was unsure as she stayed rooted in the middle of my floor, swallowed up by my mom’s clothes.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to crawl into the bed after you fall asleep.” Probably not the best idea, considering her situation—or mine, either, if I was being honest. Getting too close to her was a bad, bad idea. I was already toeing the line between hate and love, even if unintentionally.
Her tiny shoulder lifted. “You can, you know. I’m not afraid of what I can see. Only what I can’t. Hence the lights needing to be on at night.”
I understood that. “If I get tired enough, sure. But for now, I’d like to sit right here and watch if a certain red Porsche decides to come back.”
I wish we had security cameras so I could catch a plate to do some digging, but my mother and father both thought a top-notch security system was aimless because we lived in a gated community.
I heard Madeline sigh.
I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d rip his arms off his body.
That fucker better never come back in this neighborhood again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Madeline
I needed floaties. Or maybe an anchor. I needed something to keep myself from drowning, but to also keep me from floating away.
A trickle of anticipation danced over my skin as I sat on top of my bed, still in my school uniform. My plaid skirt fell over my thighs as I sat cross-legged, finishing up a chapter in my calculus book. It was nearing dark, the sun setting behind the trees, no longer shining down on Eric’s Range Rover parked in between our houses. I’d noticed he’d been home a lot more often lately. Ever since he found me in his room last weekend, he’d been home each and every night with his blinds open. I wanted to believe it was because he was checking in on me, but that couldn’t be true. Not only did he go back to ignoring me at school, but he also made a point to laugh when Missy, in all her spray-tan-gone-wrong glory, accidentally “tripped” and dumped her entire tray of food on my lap during lunch this week. I couldn’t help but see the irony in that, considering I’d done the same thing to Hayley Smith months ago.
My first reaction was to shriek while grabbing a handful of her poorly done platinum-blonde hair and banging her face off the table. But then I reminded myself that this was karma, and the only thing I could do was bask in it until it finally fucking stopped.
The cherry on top, though, was when Hayley and Piper had both come over to help me clean up the mess. People snickered as they walked by, pointing and whispering, but eventually Christian and Ollie grabbed their girlfriends by wrapping their hands around each of their waists and pulled them into the hallway when the bell rang. I shot them both a half smile, barely noticeable to the naked eye, but I was hoping they could sense my gratitude. They owed me nothing. In fact, they should have been the ones dumping their tray on me instead of Missy. I had been a lot meaner to them than I was to her.
My mom had been going out more and more lately, bringing men home almost every night. She did this whenever my father would call and tell her he was coming home soon. It was as if she used other men to curb her anxiety until he got home. She’d go out and flirt, show her panties to some handsome sleaze, and then bring him home to fuck the stress out of her system.
My mom and bad choices went hand in hand. It was nothing new.
As soon as I closed my calculus book, I snuck another peek at Eric’s window. I froze when I saw that his light was on. His blinds were pulled up so I could see directly into his room. The gray computer chair he sat in all night last weekend, while I slept on his bed, was still facing my window. I hadn’t seen him sit in it since, but I found it strange that it was still facing over here, just like I found it strange that his blinds were still open.
Eric was nothing but perplexing lately. He had ignored me at school for the entire week, but each night, when my mother would arrive home with a new fuck buddy, he’d immediately text me to let me know it wasn’t a certain red Porsche that I’d come to dread. I’d reread the three messages he sent in the last five days over and over again, pretending that he actually cared about my well-being.
And maybe he did a little. But he also liked to remind me that he hated me and that he owed me nothing. And he was absolutely right. He didn’t owe me a single thing. I just wished I knew why he kept getting all warm and fuzzy on me one second and then ice cold the next. I really had no business worrying about Eric’s feelings, but it was hard not to when my twelve-year-old heart still belonged to him.
I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ears, looking out the window again. Oh shit. A faint squeal flew from me when I saw him standing there from behind without a shirt on. His back was perfectly sculpted with rippling muscles as he moved his arms up to pull a different one on. I could tell he’d just showered when he’d spun around as his damp hair fell into his eyes. My face grew warm when I started imagining him in a hot and steamy shower, washing his body as water droplets fell over sculpted cheeks. My face was on fire when I felt the tingling in my lower stomach.
A weird feeling started to slip its way in, taking my desire and attraction and twisting it all up, making me feel uneasy.
Shortly after the incident, I’d had sex. I quickly wanted to wash away the filth I felt, so I replaced it with a teenage boy who had no issues letting me be in control. It was quick and seamless with absolutely zero feelings involved.
It didn’t take the nightmares away, though, and it didn’t make me feel any better about wanting something like that with Eric. I knew it was because I wasn’t just feeling an attraction with him. It was more. So much more. And as much as it killed me to admit it, that scared me.
A faint tapping noise sounded from the window, and I quickly shook my head, allowing my thoughts to scatter. I began to smile when I found Eric staring back at me. He was standing there, fully clothed now—thankfully—holding up a piece of torn notebook paper below his chest with a smirk on his face. It read, Enjoying the view?
I hurriedly ripped a piece of paper of my own, feeling giddy inside, and hopped off my bed. I grabbed my purple pen and wrote, I don’t know. Are you?
The rise of
my cheeks felt alien as I held up the torn paper. Eric rolled his gray eyes, and I was pretty sure I could hear his scoff through the window. He shook those dark strands out of his face and walked over to his desk, resting one arm on it as he tore the cap from his marker with his teeth. After he scribbled something else, he popped the cap back on and walked over to the window.