EASTON'S POV
Ten Years Prior
It was three weeks into the school year when I realized that Rina wasn't going to go away. In fact, not only had she infiltrated my life at school, but she seemed to be everywhere I looked, even when she wasn't there physically. She crept into my mind like an intrusive thought when I least expected it. Her face, her lips, her mess of brown curls, that innocent way she spoke-it all bled into my thoughts no matter how hard I tried to pretend she didn't exist.
The disgust I'd felt the first time I saw her was no longer there, and I wasn't sure what had changed. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed to stay true to her word-she had no intention of ratting on me, much less being around me in general-or maybe it was her sudden change in appearance. If she'd looked the way she did the first time I met her, with her unruly hair and ill-fighting clothes, maybe I would have been able to ignore her. I'd thought she was nothing more than white trash then, but, despite what I'd said the first day of school, she didn't look like that anymore. Her hair looked softer and shinier, her full lips always covered in cherry-colored lip balm, and she smelled like coconuts every time I passed her in the hall.
She dressed differently, too. Gone were the cheap Chuck Taylor knock offs and the ratty band t-shirt cloaking her body like a sack. Instead, she wore a rotation of form-fitting blouses, sweaters, skirts, and dark-washed jeans.
On top of how wrong I'd been about her sense of style the first day I saw her, much to my chagrin, her body was also nothing like I'd expected it to be underneath that baggy Weezer t-shirt. While I wasn't wrong about her being tall and thin-she towered over other students of either gender-she had a subtle curvature to her hips and long, lean legs that'd been hidden on the first day. As the days turned into weeks, I became more aware of and more aggravated about the fact that I'd developed an attraction towards the singular person in the school who could ruin my life.
As September turned to October, the part of me that wanted Rina to disappear became overshadowed by the bigger part of me just didn't want anyone else near her. She knew my secret, yes, but the more I saw her at school, interacting with our peers, the more agitated I became. At first, it was just out of paranoia that she might spill about what she'd seen in the locker room. Nobody before had ever had the power to ruin my life, and here she was, walking around like she was oblivious to the fact that she had me by the balls. But on a Friday in late September, my paranoia about her turned into an irrational jealousy.
I was trudging towards my calculus class, my textbook in hand and my homework undone, when I passed her in the hall. She didn't notice me, but my attention was inexplicably drawn to her no matter the circumstance. Her wild, brown curls were pulled on top of her head in a high ponytail, her brows furrowed as she searched for something in her locker. Beside her stood Kyle Campbell, another senior, leaning up against the adjacent locker and talking incessantly about something I couldn't hear. I paused in the hallway when I noticed his flirtatious expression and the way his gaze was flickering between her face and the swell of cleavage just barely visible in her scoop-neck sweater.
I'd played football with Kyle since middle school, but he'd been kicked off the team our junior year for failing to maintain the minimum GPA. I expected him to play this year but was pleased to discover he'd never pulled his GPA back up to standard.
I was no saint, but the kid had a temper like a volcano. The smallest inconvenience would set him off, especially on the field. And his anger wasn't always just directed at the opposing team. I lost count of the number of fights I'd seen him get into on school grounds, and I was honestly shocked he hadn't been expelled.
Even still, Kyle talking to Rina shouldn't have bothered me. They were two people that, rationally, I should want nothing to do with. I hadn't even spoken to Rina in weeks, and Kyle was like a persistent rash I'd finally gotten rid of. It shouldn't have mattered to me that he was staring at her like she was his next meal. But it did. And for reasons I couldn't entirely explain. There was the obvious threat to my football career that surrounded Rina like a dark cloud, but then there was something deeper. Like an infection, a sick, irrational jealousy began building in the pit of my stomach when Rina looked back up at him, her perfect lips breaking out into an awkward smile.
I forced myself to walk away before I did something I regretted. I told her I'd leave her alone if she kept her mouth shut and I needed to keep my end of the bargain. But the way he'd been blatantly staring at her body made my hands ball into fists at my sides. I stormed into calculus class and slammed into my seat, no longer caring that I hadn't completed the assignment due today. When my teacher finally walked in, her mess of frizzy red hair flowing behind her like a rat's nest, I hardly heard a single word she said the entire lecture. I kept picturing Rina's face in the hallway, trying to convince myself that she seemed annoyed that Kyle was talking to her rather than interested. I couldn't, though. She was smiling at him in a way she never, ever did for me and I hated it.
By the time I finished with football practice that evening, I was covered in sweat and craving the taste of whiskey. I'd been distracted throughout the entire workout, my thoughts on Rina and her goddamn pouty lips. I kept imagining they'd feel pressed up against my neck, a thought that I couldn't exactly call intrusive considering how much I liked the idea.
Rina was doing something to me that I couldn't explain. I said I wanted nothing to do with her, and a part of me meant it, but the more I saw her around, the deeper my curiosity grew. I didn't know anything about her. Not many people did. But I was beginning to want to, and I wasn't happy about it under the present circumstances between us.
"You headed over to Vince's tonight?" Ricky came up behind me, a towel wrapped around his waist and his mess of black curls still damp from his shower. We'd been best friends since middle school when he'd moved here from Massachusetts. He'd been bugging me all week about attending some bonfire at Vince's house, largely because he wanted me to be his wingman. At Ricky's request, I'd asked Victoria, a bitchy cheerleader that Ricky had been obsessed with since eighth grade, to swing by. To be frank, she'd only agreed because I'd been the one that had asked. Had it been Ricky, Victoria would have all but laughed in his face.
"Yeah, I was planning on it," I said, pulling my jeans back on over my boxers. .
"Great. You gonna drive or do you need a ride?"
"I can drive."
"Alright, I'll see you there," Ricky said, clapping me on the shoulder and heading back towards his locker.
I pulled up to Vince Dittmer's place at a quarter until eight. Standing at six foot four and two hundred pounds, Vince was the best damned offensive lineman on the Wellspring football team. With his sandy blonde hair, easy-going grin, and relaxed demeanor, he was also one of my best friends. His parents had a McMansion on a full acre-a rarity around these parts-that backed up to a lake. The property was also lined with trees and had minimal neighbors, so Vince took advantage of the relative privacy whenever his parents were out of town.
Most of his parties took place during the warmer months, when, after a few too many drinks, kids would jump off his parents' deck into the murky waters of the lake below. Though it was now early October and barely in the mid-sixties, there were already a few drunken partygoers doing just that. Grabbing a Busch from the coolers lining the sides of the house, I made my way towards the edge of the property, where I spotted Ricky and Vince building a bonfire out of wooden boards and brush.
"The king finally makes an appearance," Vince said, glancing up at me while snapping a stick in half. "'Bout time you show your face around here. It's almost eight o'clock. I'd figured you'd be halfway through a twelve pack by now."
"I had some business to attend to," I said, taking a sip of beer. The business being trying-and failing-for the fourth time to locate Rina Burnett on social media. Internet-wise, it was like the girl didn't exist. Who the hell didn't have a Facebook these days?
"I've got more to add to the list. You know Kyle? He showed up at the party out of the blue thirty minutes ago with some girl. That new one with the curly hair?" Vince asked, gesturing towards the edge of house. My blood ran cold. Rina. "Too many drinks and the guy's going to cause a scene, so could you keep your eye on him? If he starts getting loud, just tell him to cool it, alright? He's always seemed way more scared of you than anyone else and I really don't need the cops called to a party my parents don't know I'm having."
"Yeah, sure," I said through gritted teeth. I'd keep an eye on them, alright. But if Kyle didn't keep his hands to himself, I couldn't promise that the cops wouldn't be called.