I'm very pissed off when I walk into school Monday morning.
After my not-so-little blowout with Lindsey in the bathroom Friday night, she seemed to create a personal agenda against me, and that became clear when I ended up following her around for wedding preparations all weekend long.
Lindsey was as harsh and judgmental as ever. Whether is was about my font suggestions for the wedding invitations or the type of flower I liked at the florist, she made sure to shoot me down.
"That's not what I want for my wedding," she had sneered.
"I don't think that matches my wedding theme," she'd snapped.
For Mom's sake, I had been trying to keep things civilized between the two of us, but with every little jab she sent my way, my patience began to wear thin, and all I wanted to do was snap at her to put her in her place. Mom had enough on her plate as is, what with trying to keep up with my sister's demands and also trying to get ahold of Dad, who seemed to be intent on ignoring his phone.
A part of me wondered if he was just screening her calls because he didn't want to talk to Mom, but when I tried calling him myself, it went straight to voicemail.
As much as the curiosity burned away, I had other things in my mind.
Mainly Lindsey and her wrath, and how to fume about that quietly.
After too many long, grueling hours out with the she-devil herself purely for wedding purposes, I came home Sunday night thinking that would be the end of the torture for at least a little while, but apparently Lindsey hadn't gotten all her fury out yet.
She made a sly comment that I didn't appreciate.
"Are you always this uptight when you don't get laid?"
And that was it, the final straw to break the camel's back.
Like a whip, I lashed out at her with brutal words and passionate profanities, not even bothering to censor what I said in the current company, and Lindsey was quick to retaliate the same.
Mom tried to break it up, but I think she expected it a long time coming because soon she stepped out on the front porch to let us battle it out.
Even Ian, who had finally returned from a day out for his own part of the preparations, couldn't calm either of us down enough to get us to walk away and take a much-needed breather, and soon he, too, gave up trying and joined Mom out on the porch.
When we finally finished screaming at each other, my palms ached from where I sank my fingernails in the skin, and Lindsey was once again clutching her stomach protectively, angry tears streaming down her face.
And then we just walked away from each other without another word.
I thought that by finally saying everything I wanted to, I'd feel better than before, but if anything I felt worse, nothing but my fury coursing through my veins and making my blood boil.
I fell asleep pissed off, and I woke up this morning feeling just the same.
I think most people seem to sense that something's off with me because they keep their distance.
I mean, it's not like people generally hang around me often; I'm hardly popular, and now I've been singled out for what I do-- play with guys' hearts, then break them. But ever since I screwed over Wesley, one of the most well-liked people at this school, I've been labeled Public Enemy Number One, and people have been hovering for the latest bit of gossip involving me.
It's tiring, living a life like mine.
My first few classes of the day run smoothly, or as smoothly as they can considering I'm in this state of mind, but by the time lunch rolls around, I'm still seething.
Grabbing nothing but a bottle of water, I head straight for the table I typically share with Perry, and now Angela, who's become a permanent fixture at my best friend's side.
As usual, I'm the first one here, so I simply slide into place and sip at my water, glaring daggers at the table.
Perry and Angela finally show up, smiling and giggling like lovesick idiots.
"Hey, Lacey." Angela smiles at me before beaming a thousand times brighter at her boyfriend.
I swear, I don't know how that boy isn't blind yet from her mega-watt smile.
Perry beams back at her just as happily, pure adoration in his eyes.
Normally while this kind of thing makes me uncomfortable, especially with it being the two of them, I can handle it.
Today, not so much.
Taking another angry swig of my water, I all but slam it back on the table.
The action seems to finally suck both of them out of their love bubble and notice something's off with me.
Perry's eyes narrow as he frowns at me. "You okay?"
"Fine," I mutter, dropping my furious gaze down to the table.
"No, you're not," Perry argues firmly. "So tell us what's really on your mind."
I'm hesitant to say anything around Angela because she knows nothing about my life or me specifically, but I know it's going to be hard to keep her in the dark with her so close to Perry now.
"It's my sister," I mutter. "Like it always is."
Perry sighs. "What did she do now?"
My eyes snap up to meet his, except he's too busy looking at Angela with a sappy gaze.
My temper rises. He's not even taking this seriously.
He doesn't really care what's wrong, a voice tells me. He's only worried about his girlfriend.
"I don't know, Perry, what do you think?" I snap back hotly, balling my hands into fists and narrowing my eyes.
Something about my tone must set off warning bells for both of them, because Perry and Angela separate, looking away from each other.
"I don't know, Lacey," Perry responds calmly. "You haven't told me."
If this was any other case, with me in any other mood, I'd sugarcoat my answer enough to hide how I'm really feeling about the matter, but today I just don't have the patience for that.
"She wasn't nice, Per," I tell him, my voice cracking on his name. It's clear by my tone that I didn't appreciate the things she said.
"Did you start it, or did she?"
I do a double take. "Excuse me?" My eyes narrow even more.
Perry holds his hands up to calm me down. "Look, I'm not putting the blame on anyone, but did she start it or did you?"
"She started it, Perry!" I snap.
And it's true. Lindsey started it every time; I was just the one to retaliate to stick up for myself.
"I'm just asking because sometimes-"
"Sometimes it's my fault, yeah," I confess. "But this time it was different. She was personally attacking me in multiple levels."
Perry shakes his head. "I know how bad your sister can be, but I don't think she meant to personally insult you or anything."
"She called me a slut." My tone is monotonous, bland like it's a story I've told before. "To my face."
Angela gasps, obviously not suspecting such a thing, and Perry pales.
"Lacey, I didn't-"
"No," I interrupt him. "You didn't, but that's okay." It's not, not really. "I think I could use some fresh air." I make as if to stand.
"Lace, don't go, okay?" Perry argues, grabbing my wrist.
I shrug off his touch. "No thanks." I almost spit the words. "It's clear you've got better things to do, you know, like shove your tongue down your girlfriend's throat, rather than deal with whatever crap I've got going on."
Angela shrinks back visibly from my bitter words, obviously not used to seeing me display my emotions so powerfully like this.
Normally I am in control of my emotions, but today they're out of my control.
Perry's features harden. "Lacey-"
"Save it," I mutter irritably, getting up from the table. "I've got to go."
And I walk away before he can say another word.
Gritting my teeth, I leave the cafeteria for the courtyard, where I sit down on the stone steps and put my head in my hands.
It's so frustrating trying to explain myself to people who don't understand. Granted, it's my fault for making things that way; I choose to keep people in the dark so that way I won't get hurt. But even Perry, who probably knows more about me than I know myself, couldn't seem to understand why I'm feeling this way.
I could have explained the reason why Lindsey called me a slut in the first place, but that would open a can of worms that I don't want everywhere. It would lead to Duke Henderson, and the things I'm doing with him. Perry wouldn't be able to handle that, and I wouldn't be able to handle losing him.
Even though it feels like I'm losing him already to Angela.
She's always had him attention whether she realized it or not, but now that she's finally reciprocating his feelings for her, Perry is almost a lost cause to me. He's so head over heels for her, like she is for him, and then there's me-- alone as ever.
The urge to cry is so strong.
Rubbing my eyes hard as if that could take the feeling away, I sigh loudly.
"Everything okay?"
It's Duke.
"I'm fine," I say without looking up, trying to hide the warble in my voice.
I can feel my bottom lip trembling.
"Nice lie," Duke says teasingly, sitting down beside me. I can feel his presence close by even without looking. "Want to tell me the truth this time?"
"It's none of your damn business," I snap at him, finally lifting my head.
He doesn't seem bothered by my sudden outburst at him at all, instead looking as if he's completely at ease around me. "Now isn't that the truth?" He smirks at me humorously, leaning back on the step above with his elbows.
My patience is running thin with him now. "Can you just not be a dick right now?" I complain, a sharp edge to my words.
If I said anything like that to any other guy, they'd either snap back or walk away, wiping their hands clear of me.
But of course, Duke isn't any other guy.
Perhaps that's what's drawn me to him despite my will not to get sucked in like I have.
Duke smirks wider than before. "Sweetheart, haven't we already figured out that I'm not a good guy?"
While I hate the nickname 'sweetheart', or any nickname for that matter, it's better than 'baby,' so I let it slide.
"Well can you just for once try not to be as much of an ass?" I hate the desperation in my voice, much like I hate the burning behind my eyes.
Duke looks like he's got another smart reply, so I do the one thing I hate the most: I beg.
"Please?"
My voice cracks on the word, and my bottom lip trembles at a whole new pace.
And it finally seems to click for Duke that I'm not just acting to be rude and distant as always, but that I truly don't want to deal with this today.
Pity crosses his features, and I hate myself even more.
"What's really going on?" Duke asks softly.
The tenderness in his words almost brings tears to my eyes.
I shake my head rapidly, not trusting my voice.
"Lacey Madison, there is something bothering you, and I want you to talk to me about it. Please."
I shake my head even more, pressing my hand against my mouth.
Duke grabs my hand and brings it to his own lips, pressing light butterfly kisses to the inside of my wrist and palm.
The gesture calms me down enough to get rid of the lump in my throat and to blink away the tears threatening to spill over, but I pull away before he can do anymore.
"Duke," I hiss, casting a quick glance around to see if anyone noticed the gesture as well. Thankfully not too many people are out here, and there's enough distance between us those who are that they would have missed it.
Normally Duke would roll his eyes at my secretive behavior, but for once he holds my gaze. "Lacey, please."
"I'd rather not talk about it," I tell him, dropping my eyes to where my fingers twist nervously in my lap. I can tell he wants to argue with me, but I don't give him a chance to. "Really, Duke, I don't want to talk about. That'll just make it worse, okay?" I risk a glance at his face.
He isn't satisfied with that answer, but he takes it anyway with a clipped nod. "Okay." He makes as if to stand up, but I stop him with a hand on his knee.
"Thank you," I whisper. Then I remove my hand, and he disappears inside.
------
As usual, when I get home Lindsey is in the living room with Ian, the two of them practically glued together in the cuddling position they're in, both of their hands placed over Lindsey's growing stomach as they whisper to each other and the baby.
When they notice me, both of them get quiet, and Lindsey's mouth tightens into a thin frown, but she doesn't say a word.
Ian, on the other hand, greets me somewhat nervously, as if afraid to inflict his fiancée's wrath on himself.
As he should be. Bitchy and pregnant isn't exactly the best combination to mess with.
I reply with a clipped greeting of my own before venturing further into the house in search of Mom.
I find her in the kitchen, her phone plastered to her ear. By the look on her face, I'm assuming it's either the bank or Dad she's talking to.
"So when do you think you'll be back, Rob? In time for your daughter's wedding? Or do you just plan on sending a congratulatory card?"
Yeah, it's Dad.
"I'm not being smart with you, Rob," Mom snaps. "I'm just trying to figure out where you come into play in this equation called family."
By the way her one eye is starting to twitch, I can tell she's just getting started.
Considering the fact that Dad hadn't called all weekend to return any of her, or my, calls, I can't exactly blame her. I'd rip into him, too, if I was given the chance.
This is her chance, and I don't want to be present when it happens.
Without giving her another second to possibly notice me and say something, I bolt from the kitchen and head upstairs to my room.
And I realize I'm not alone.
Duke is standing in the middle of the room, a hard look in his eyes and his jaw clenched.
My mind whirs to catch up. "Duke? What are you-"
But before I can finish my thought, he's crossed the room in three long strides to where I stand, and then his mouth is on mine.
Part of me reaches out to push him away, but in a matter of seconds all rational thinking is gone and I'm pulling him closer, fisting the fabric of his shirt in my hands.
Slipping his hand under my shirt, Duke nips my bottom lip with his teeth, earning a surprised sound from me, but I don't complain.
At least, not until I can wrap my head around what's happening.
I pull back, breathing hard. "Wait," I tell him breathlessly. "Duke, why are you here?"
His lips graze my jawline, heading for the curve of my throat. "Can we not talk about it?" He mumbles against my skin, his warm breath fanning across my neck.
I shiver in response, tilting my head back to give him better access, but then my rational thinking comes back, and I try to shove him away. "I-No. No, we are talking about this," I argue.
"Shut up," Duke groans, his mouth now on my collarbone. "Don't talk. Don't think. Just feel."
"But-"
He silences my protests with another solid kiss, then he pulls back just enough. "Don't stop yourself from having a moment to forget everything."
I want to argue with him, but having him close like this has my thoughts clouding over again, and he wins.
Throwing my arms around his neck, I let him pick me up and wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me over to my bed, where he lays me down and then stretches out above me.
In a flash, so fast I must have blinked to miss it, Duke's shirt is on the floor, and mine is coming off.
It takes both of us to yank the fabric over my head, mussing my hair in the process, but finally it, too, rests somewhere on the other side of the room where Duke threw it.
Shifting above me, Duke drops his body down lower and latches his mouth back onto my neck.
Sighing happily, I close my eyes, letting the sensation drift over me.
Don't talk. Don't think. Just feel.
"Lacey?"
My eyes fly wide open.
<><><><>
Yay, another update!
It should be a crime that I take this long to post new chapters, but at least you're all still getting them lol.
Please show this chapter some love if you liked it :) What did you guys think of Lacey's meltdown with Perry? What do you think of her home situation? And as always, what do you think of Duke?
Love you, lovelies. Peace <3
Dedicated to RoniNight for pushing me to post this, otherwise it probably would have been a much longer wait.