There were a few snickers, but it didn’t bother me. They had no idea what it was like to feel embarrassed or made to feel like nothing but an object.
“Yes, sir.” I met the eyes of the few students who were still looking at me—each one of them turned away first. I put my head down and started writing again until he announced time was up.
I looked at my page and saw Charlie written over and over and over again. My breath hitched and my heart pounded so hard against my chest that it hurt. I quickly closed my notebook, put it in my bag and pulled out my textbook, trying desperately to swallow the lump in my throat that was crawling upwards, ready to break apart the buried memory that brought with it horrific anguish.
Why? Why did that come up now? It was gone—over. Charlie happened years ago. Why didn’t it just go away?
Stop.
I closed my eyes and sang to myself. It took two verses before a wash of cold settled over me. My heart slowed and my hands uncurled from the death grip on my textbook.
I opened my eyes and stared straight ahead, listening to Professor Neale.
Lac remained quiet the rest of the class and it wasn’t until class was over and I was walking out that he tugged on my sleeve outside the door. “Have a good weekend, Haven. Like the name by the way.”
Most people would assume I was named after a sanctuary, a safe haven . . . ironic that there’d been nothing safe in my life. And my mom had named me after Haven Dust—cocaine.
I forced a smile because I’d been a bitch when he’d been nice. It was difficult being around people who were kind, as I searched for a deeper purpose as to why they were kind. I was accustomed to cruel and selfish, and I could handle that. I was prepared.
I wasn’t prepared for nice.
“REAM’S GOING TO kick your ass when he finds out,” Kite said, coming down the stairs, barefoot, towel wrapped around his waist, and another in his hand as he rubbed his wet hair. “I’d load up on painkillers before he gets back tomorrow.”
I shut the fridge with my foot and cracked open my beer. It hissed and fizzed, the foam spilling over the top, soaking my hand and splattering my jeans. I jumped back, holding it away from me as the cold liquid dripped to the ceramic tiles. “The fuck—” I shot my gaze to Kite who half-smirked. “Kite, fuck, man—you ass. What a waste of good beer.” Half the bottle was empty.
Kite stopped drying his hair and tossed his towel over his shoulder. Fucker looked smug as hell with that silver studded brow raised. “Next time, you pick up the groceries, instead of fucking off after a chick you shouldn’t be lusting after.”
“Not lusting.” She did look fuckin’ hot today. But no, it wasn’t lusting; it was way more than that. “We talk.”
Kite huffed. “No, you text and that’s because you want in her pants.”
“It’s different.”
“Yeah, she kneed you in the balls instead of licked them.”
She had, after I jumped off the cliff with her at the cottage. Maybe it was then that I knew it was different with her; well, it was because no chick had ever kneed me in the balls. But the snippets of who she was lay beneath that cold exterior and I liked the snippets—a fuck of a lot. Shit, I liked her cold exterior, too. She was strong yet vulnerable at the same time. What I didn’t like was that I’d never seen her smile, but she could be playful, and that surprised me and solidified that she was different.
“Mind your own fuckin’ business.”
He sighed, shaking his head. “Oh, man, it’s all our business when we need to find a new guitarist because you’re in the ground after Ream finds out you’re getting close with his sister. Especially, when you have this shit happening with some crazy chick you fucked. Seriously, not a cool move.”
“Not my fault I’m so good in bed they can’t forget me.” Kite half-laughed. “And Haven . . . we get along. It’s not sexual.” That was total bullshit. I got hard when she playfully texted with me. That couldn’t be helped. She was beautiful, with stunning gray eyes with a hint of green in them. Then she had this soft, flawless skin and honey blonde hair that hung past her shoulders in waves. Of course, it was sexual, but there was more to it.
“Yeah, tell Ream that,” Kite said.
Kite was the type of guy you never saw coming. Quiet. Subtle. Didn’t say much to strangers, but it wasn’t because he was shy. He had the confidence of a bull. There was something quietly sinister about him. Known him since high school and he’d never done anything to make me think that, except Kite was aloof. He stood and watched. It was like he was getting the play on how to defeat his opponent.
Anyone looking at him would reach the conclusion that the pierced-up, tatted drummer was a rebel with an attitude.
But Kite was a gentleman, polite and kind, at least on the surface, and had one fuck of a good head on his shoulders. Which meant he was probably right. And the asshole had been riding my ass ever since he saw my phone flash Haven. Yeah, well, screw him. I liked talking to Haven, and it may have started out as lust, but now . . . well I wasn’t sure what you’d call it, but I wasn’t giving it up.
“And Logan . . .” Kite adjusted his towel hanging around his hips. “He’s pissed and is going to fire your ass next time you cause a scene like that.”
It was my turn to snort. Like hell I’d be fired. We’d been together since high school and stuck together through some serious fucked-up shit with Logan and his dad. “That chick needed a rude awakening that I’m not fuckin’ interested.” Who the hell let her backstage anyway? “And Logan can’t fire me. Band would be nothing without me. Besides, Emily loves me.”