Even more sick was the way I lied to Casey about it when she called at five-thirty.
“Hey, are you okay? Oh my God, I can’t believe Jake’s back. Are you, like, flipping out? Do you need me to come over?”
“No.” I was feeling jumpy, still glancing at the clock every few minutes. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t bottle it up, B,” she urged.
“I’m not. I’m fine.”
“I’m coming over,” she said.
“No,” I said quickly. “Don’t. There’s no reason to.”
There was silence for a second, and when Casey spoke again, she sounded kind of hurt. “Okay… but, I mean, even if we didn’t talk about Jake, we could just hang out or whatever.”
“I can’t,” I said. “I, um…” It was five-thirty-three. Still an hour before I could leave for Wesley’s. But I couldn’t tell Casey that. Never. “I’m thinking I might go to bed early tonight.”
“What?”
“I stayed up way too late last night watching, um… a movie. I’m exhausted.”
She knew I was lying. It was pretty obvious. But she didn’t question me. Instead, she just said, “Well… fine, I guess. But maybe tomorrow? Or this weekend? You really do need to talk about it, B. Even if you don’t think you need to. Just because he’s Jessica’s brother…”
At least she thought I was lying to cover up my issues with Jake. I’d rather she think that than know the truth.
God, I was such a shitty friend. But Wesley was just something I had to lie about. To everyone.
When six-forty-five finally rolled around, I grabbed my coat and raced downstairs, already pulling my car keys out of my pocket. I found Dad in the kitchen, microwaving some Pizza Rolls. He smiled at me as I put on my gloves. “Hey, Dad,” I said. “I’ll be back later.”
“Where are you going, Bumblebee?”
Oh, uh, good question. This was a problem I hadn’t anticipated, but when all else fails, tell the truth… or part of it at least.
“I’m going to Wesley Rush’s house. We’re working on a paper for English class. I won’t be home late or anything.” Oh, please, I thought. Please don’t let my cheeks turn red.
“Okay,” Dad said. “Have fun with Wesley.”
I ran out of the kitchen before my face could burst into flames.
“Bye, Dad!”
I practically sprinted out to my car, and I tried very, very hard not to speed when I pulled onto the highway. I was not getting my first ticket because of Wesley Rush. The line had to be drawn somewhere.
Then again, I’d crossed several lines already.
But what exactly was I doing? I’d always mocked girls who screwed Wesley, and yet, here I was, becoming one of them. I told myself there was a difference. Those girls thought they had a shot with Wesley; they found him sexy and appealing—which, in a twisted way, I guess he was. They believed he was a good guy they could tame, but I knew he was a jackass. I only wanted his body. No strings. No feelings. I only wanted the high.
Did that make me a junkie and a slut?
My car came to a stop in front of the gigantic house, and I decided that my actions were excusable. People with cancer smoke pot for medicinal purposes; my situation was very similar. If I didn’t use Wesley to distract me, I would go crazy, so I was really saving myself from self-destruction and a load of therapy bills.
I walked up the sidewalk and rang the doorbell. A second later, the lock clicked and the knob turned. The instant Wesley’s grinning face appeared in the doorway, I knew that, regardless of my reasoning, this entire thing was wrong. Disgusting. Sick. Unhealthy.
And completely exhilarating.
11
I had major sex hair. I stared into the big mirror and tried to flatten the mess of auburn waves while Wesley put his clothes on behind me. Definitely not a situation I’d ever imagined myself in.
“I’m perfectly fine with being used,” he said as he pulled on the tight black T-shirt. His hair was pretty incriminating, too. “But I would like to know for what I’m being used.”
“Distraction.”
“That much I gathered.” The mattress creaked when he flopped down onto his back and tucked his arms behind his head. “What am I supposed to be distracting you from? There’s a chance that, if I know, I could do my job more efficiently.”
“You’re doing just fine already.” I scraped my fingernails through my hair, but it was as good as it would get. Sighing, I turned away from the mirror and faced Wesley. To my surprise, he was watching me with actual interest. “Do you really care?”
“Sure.” He sat up and patted a spot beside him. “There’s more to this amazing body than awe-inspiring abs. I have a pair of ears, too, and they happen to work superbly.”
I rolled my eyes and sat next to him, pulling my feet up onto the bed. “Okay,” I said, wrapping my arms around my knees. “Not that it matters, but I found out that my ex-boyfriend is coming back to town for a week this morning. It’s so stupid, but I panicked. I mean, the last time we saw each other… it didn’t go very well. That’s why I dragged you into the closet at school.”
“What happened?”
“You were there. Don’t make me relive it.”
“I meant with your ex-boyfriend,” Wesley said. “I’m curious. What kind of misery could cause a hateful person like you to run into my muscular arms? Or is he the one who put that layer of ice around your heart?” His words sounded facetious, but his smile seemed sincere, not the lopsided one he wore when he thought he was being clever.
“We started dating during my freshman year,” I began reluctantly. “He was a senior, and I knew that my parents would never let me see him if they knew how old he was. So we kept the whole thing a secret from everyone. He never introduced me to his friends or took me places or talked to me at school, and I just assumed it was to protect us. Well, of course, I was totally wrong.”
My skin itched as Wesley’s eyes steadied on me. God, that annoyed me. He was probably looking at me with pity. Poor Duffy. My shoulders tensed, and I stared at my socks, refusing to see his reaction to my story. A story I’d never told anyone but Casey.
“So I saw him hanging out with this girl a few times at school,” I continued. “Every time I asked, he just said they were friends and not to worry. So I didn’t. I mean, he told me he loved me. I had every reason to believe him. Right?”
Wesley didn’t answer.
“Then she found out. This girl I’d been seeing him with tracked me down at school one day, and she told me to stop screwing her boyfriend. I thought it was a mistake, so I asked him about it…”
“Not a mistake,” Wesley guessed.
“Nope. Her name was Tiffany, and they’d been together since seventh grade. I was the other woman—or girl, technically.”
Slowly, I looked up and saw Wesley making a face. “What a dick,” he said.
“You can’t talk. You’re the biggest playboy there is.”
“True,” he admitted. “But I don’t make promises. He told you he loved you. He made a commitment. I’d never do that. A girl can believe what she wants to believe, but I don’t say anything I don’t mean. What he did is the mark of a true dick.”
“Anyway, he’s back in town this week with Tiffany… his fiancée.”
Wesley let out a low hiss. “Ah, that’s awkward.”
“You think?”
There was a long pause. Finally, Wesley asked, “So, who is he? Would I remember him?”
“I don’t know. You might. His name is Jake Gaither.”
“Jake Gaither.” Wesley’s face twisted in horror. “Jake Gaither? You mean that strange guy? The freak with the acne and hooked nose?” His eyes widened in shock. “How the hell did he get two girls? Why would anyone go out with him? Why would you go out with him? He was a beast.”
I felt my eyebrows contract. “Thanks,” I muttered. “Did you ever think that maybe that’s the best that the Duff could do?”
Wesley’s face fell. He look
ed away from me, examining our reflections in the mirror across the room. After a few moments of uneasy silence, he said, “You know, Bianca, you aren’t that unattractive. You do have some potential. Maybe if you hung out with different friends—”
“Just stop,” I said. “Look, I’ve already fucked you twice. You don’t have to flatter me. Besides, I love my friends way too much to trade them in for the sake of looking hotter.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I mean, Casey has been my best friend since, like, forever, and she’s the most loyal person I’ve ever met. And Jessica… well, she has no idea about me and her brother. We weren’t friends back then. In fact, I didn’t want to know her after Jake and I split, but Casey said it would be good for me, and she was right… as usual. Jessica can be a little ditsy, but she’s the sweetest, most innocent person I know. I could never give either of them up just to look good. That’d make me a real dumbass.”
“Then they’re lucky to have you.”
“I just said not to flatter—”
“I’m being honest.” Wesley frowned at the mirror. “I have only one friend—one real friend. Harrison is the only guy who will be seen with me, and that’s because we aren’t trying to attract the same audience, if you know what I mean.” A small smile spread across his lips when he turned to face me. “Most people will do anything to avoid being the Duff.”
“Well, I guess I’m not most people.”
He looked at me seriously. “Does the word even bother you?” he asked.
“No.” I knew it was a lie the second the answer passed my lips. It did bother me, but I wouldn’t admit that. Especially not to him.
My entire body seemed to be conscious of his eyes on me again. Before he could say anything, I stood up and walked to the bedroom door.
“Listen,” I said, twisting the knob. “I have to go, but I was thinking we should do this again. Like a fling, maybe. Purely physical. No strings attached?”
“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” Wesley asked, stretching out on his back again with a smirk. “That sounds good to me, but if I’m so fantastic, you should spread the word to your friends. You say you love them, so you ought to let them experience the same mind-blowing pleasure… maybe at the same time. It’s only right.”
I scowled at him. “Just when I think you might have a soul, you say shit like that.” The door thudded against the wall when I flung it open. I marched down the stairs and yelled, “I’ll let myself out!”
“I’ll see you soon, Duffy.”
What an asshole.
My father was oblivious. I guess his suspicious dad mode was faulty or something because he hardly questioned me as I slipped out of the house to go see Wesley more and more that week. Any sane dad would have been tipped off when his daughter used the “working on a paper” excuse twice in a row, but four times in one week? Did he really think it took me that long to write a stupid essay? Wasn’t he worried I might be out doing exactly what I was doing?
Apparently not. Every time I walked out of the house, he just said, “Have a nice time, Bumblebee.”
But I think cluelessness must have been in the air. Even Casey, who’d been watching me like a hawk since Jake drove into town, hadn’t picked up on anything between me and Wesley. Nothing more than her usual jokes about my secret pining for him, that is. Of course, I was doing everything I could to hide the evidence, but more than once, I was sure she’d caught me.
Like Friday afternoon when we were hanging out in my bedroom and getting ready to go to the Nest. Really, Casey was the one getting ready. I mostly just sat on my bed and watched while she posed in front of my mirror. We’d done this a million times, but with Jessica still clinging to her brother every waking moment, the room felt strangely empty. Almost eerie.
Jessica was so different from both of us. I mean, Casey and I were opposites, but Jessica was from an entirely different planet. She was a constant ray of light. The glass half full. She kept us balanced with that big smile and naive innocence that always shocked us. While sometimes it felt like Casey and I had both seen too much of the world, Jessica was, in a lot of ways, still a child. Virginal. Always full of wonder. She was our sunshine, and Casey and I were kind of in the dark without her.
I was wondering how many more days Jake would be in town, when Casey turned to look at me, apparently deciding that she liked her purple skinny jeans after all. (I’m glad she did, because I thought they were hideous.) “You know, B, you’re dealing with this whole Jake thing a lot better than I expected,” she said.
“Thanks… I think.”
“Well, I kind of figured that when Jake rolled back into Hamilton with his fiancée, you’d be freaked. I was banking on tears, midnight phone calls, and some good old nervous breakdowns. Instead, you’re being, like, totally normal… or, you know, as normal as Bianca Piper ever gets.”
“I retract my thanks.”
“Seriously.” She crossed the room and sat down next to me. “Are you dealing with this okay? You’ve barely complained, which is disturbing because you complain about everything.”
“Do not,” I protested.
“Whatever you say.”
I rolled my eyes. “For your information, I’ve found a way to take my mind off it, but that’s kind of ruined when you keep talking about it, Casey.” I nudged her playfully with my elbow. “I’m starting to think that you want me to cry.”
“At least that would prove to me that you’re not bottling it up.”
“Casey,” I groaned.
“I’m not kidding, B,” she said. “This guy really fucked you up freshman year. You were a crying, blubbering, panicking mess after what he did, and I know it’s hard because we have to keep it from Jess, but you need to deal with it somehow. I don’t want to see you go through that shit again.”
“Casey, I’m fine,” I assured her. “I really have found a way to relieve the stress, okay?”
“What’s that?”
Oh, shit.
“What’s what?”
Casey frowned at me. “Duh. Your way of relieving the stress. What are you doing?”
“Um… just stuff.”
“Are you working out?” she asked. “Don’t be embarrassed if you are. My mom does cardio when she’s pissed off. She says it helps her channel the negative energy—whatever that means. So is that what you’re doing? Are you working out?”
“Um… you could say that.”
Damn it. My cheeks were definitely burning. I turned away from her, examining the hairs on the back of my arm.
“Cardio?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
But miraculously, she didn’t seem to notice that my face was on fire.
“Cool. You know, these pants are a size bigger than what I usually buy. Maybe we should work out together. It could be fun.”
“I don’t think so.” Before she could argue or see the scarlet color of my cheeks, I stood up and said, “I’ve gotta go brush my teeth again. Then I’ll be ready to get out of here. Okay?” And I ran out of the room.
When I returned a few minutes later, I was forced to lie yet again.
“Wanna stay over at my place tonight?” Casey asked as she fluffed her short hair in the mirror. “Mom’s going to a bachelorette party for a woman she works with, so it’ll just be us… and a few James McAvoy movies if you want. Jess will be sad she missed it, but—”
“I can’t tonight, Casey.”
“Why not?” She sounded hurt.
The truth was that I had plans to see Wesley around eleven that night, but obviously I couldn’t just be honest. But I couldn’t really lie either. I mean, my lies were always so fucking transparent. So I did what I was getting better and better at these days. I withheld.
“I have plans.”
“After we leave the Nest?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
Casey turned from the mirror and stared at me for a long moment. Finally, she said, “You’ve been busy a lot lately, you know. You never want to d
o stuff with me much anymore.”
“I’m going out with you tonight, aren’t I?” I asked.
“Yeah, I guess, but… I don’t know.” She turned away and examined her reflection one last time. “Never mind. Let’s just go.”
God, I hated being dishonest with Casey. Especially because she clearly knew something was going on, even if she hadn’t figured out what just yet. But I was going to do everything in my power to keep my thing with Wesley under wraps.
And, of course, Wesley acted totally casual about everything. In public, we treated each other with the same sarcastic indifference as always. I insulted him, gave him dirty looks, and cursed under my breath as he acted like a pig (not that there was any acting involved). No one would have guessed we were different behind closed doors. No one could tell that I was counting down the minutes until we’d be meeting on his front porch step.
No one but Joe.
“You like him,” the bartender teased as Wesley, after enduring a verbal tirade from yours truly, went off to dance with a giggling bimbo. “And I’m thinking he likes you, too. You two have something going on.”
“You’re insane,” I said, sipping my Cherry Coke.
“I’ve told you a million times, Bianca, and I’ll tell you again. You’re a bad liar.”
“I wouldn’t touch that douche bag with a ten-foot pole!” Did my voice convey enough disgust? “Do you really think I’m that much of an idiot, Joe? He’s arrogant, and he sleeps with everything he can get his filthy hands on. Most of the time, I just want to claw his creepy eyes out. How could I like him? He’s a jackass.”
“And girls love jackasses. That’s why I can’t get a date. I’m too damn nice.”
“Or too hairy,” I offered. I took the last drink of my Cherry Coke and pushed my glass across the bar to him. “Shave that Moses beard and you might have better luck. Women don’t want to kiss carpet, you know.”
“You’re trying to get out of talking about it,” Joe pointed out. “That just proves there’s something going on with you and Mr. Jackass.”