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CHAPTER11
Nixon
I’min the bathroom looking at my favorite loafers. My now ruined loafers. My imported leather, specifically-made-for-me loafers. Cursing, I look over the damage. I can’t add water because it will only make it worse, and this shit couldn’t be fixed. She was being petty. She knew about my shoe obsession, and she went for the kill.
I place my hand on my wrist to mess with my bracelet. The bracelet that wasn’t there anymore. I felt naked without it. Like I was half a person.
Because your other half is missing.
Shaking my inner conscience from my mind, I wash my hands and exit the bathroom, going to my locker. And guess whose locker is next to mine? Monroe’s. Because the universe said coffee in my favorite loafers wasn’t enough for breaking my best friend. Opening my locker, I look down, catching Monroe’s wrist. She still has her friendship bracelet on. Something sinks inside me. Maybe my heart? Who the fuck knows, but it hurts. Fuck. I feel guilty. Guilty I let my girlfriend come between us. Guilty I let her take off my best friend's bracelet.
I shove my locker closed and come face-to-face with my ex-best friend, who, for some reason, still makes my body hum with excitement. She quickly looks away and closes her locker. I’m about to say something, I’m not sure what. Maybe something stupid like sorry, but Drake comes up, pressing her into the locker. Claiming her lips. I wish it was me. Memories of our kissing and me making her come assault my mind, and longing takes up residence in my gut.
Turning quickly, I make my way to AP History. Taking a seat at the back, I drag out my phone, texting my girlfriend. And then I hear it. Her laugh. Looking up, I see Monroe and Drake take the seats in front of me. Fan-fucking-tastic. Everett walks in. His tie barely tied, hair a blond mess. The complete opposite of me in every aspect. He sits down beside me and smiles. And then, the fucker screams. “The fuck, bro?” I exclaim, squeezing the bridge of my nose.
“Sorry, man, I just forget how much we look alike sometimes.”
I glare. “Really? I mean, we’re fucking twins.”
He shrugs. “It’s just uncanny,” he says, twisting his pencil.
“It’s really not.” I throw my pen at him.
He dodges it, laughing. “Chill, man, just trying to put a smile on your handsome face.” He throws my pen back.
Ignoring him, I face the front. Watching Drake twirl Monroe’s hair as he whispers in her ear. I kick the back of his chair. Everett covers a snort. Drake turns around, glaring. “Sorry, man, foot slipped.” When he turns back around, I grin.
Class begins, not that Monroe and Drake notice. Folding my paper into an airplane, I throw it straight into Drake’s head while chewing on my pencil. The fucker turns around again, and I give him a blank stare. “You throw this paper airplane at me, man?” I raise an eyebrow. He frowns, looking around the room.
Everett and I burst out laughing just as the bell rings. Everett pushes Drake back into his chair and snags Monroe, pulling her along with him.
As Brylan likes to say, “Those Masterson boys are trouble.”
* * *
“B 57. Hut.” I snag the ball, sailing it down the football field and straight into Everett’s hands as he runs to score a touchdown. The whistle blows, and Coach tells us to hit the showers. After dressing, I run smack-dab into Drake. “We going to have a problem, Captain?” he asks, glaring at me.
Fuck yeah, we are. “Nope.” I try sidestepping him, but he blocks me.
“Listen, Monroe is mine now. So back the fuck off.”
Scoffing, I take a step forward. “Monroe belongs to no one.” But me.
“Nah, bro.” He laughs, getting in my face. “She’s mine now. You can’t beat my ass like last time. I’ll fight back.”
“You better back the fuck up before we have a problem,” Easton barks out while Everett pushes between Drake and me.
I snarl at Drake, grabbing my backpack and walking off. I’m almost to my car when Holly walks up to me in her tight little practice uniform. “Hey, baby.” She kisses my lips, but my eyes are locked on Monroe and Drake. She is sitting on the hood of her car, her legs wrapped around Drake's back as he shoves his tongue down her throat. Breaking my eyes from them, I grab Holly, tossing her over my shoulder as she giggles.
Fuck waiting on Monroe. It’s time I grabbed my man card.
Monroe
“Drake, stop.” I push on his chest.
Drake and I are tangled up on a lounge chair in the cave. I wanted to hang out with my boyfriend, but this isn’t what I wanted. His breath lingers with the scent of beer, eyes glazed over as he stares through me. He goes to touch me, but I swat his hands away. His face contorts with rage as he looks at me, scoffing. He raises his hand, the smack that jerks my head to the side shocking me. Pain radiates up my cheek to my temple. I squeeze my eyes shut. His hand rips off my swimsuit bottoms down my legs. “You’ll give it to Nixon, but not me?”
My knee comes up, but he pushes it away. “Drake, please.” I begin trying to close my legs, my fist connecting with his chest.
