#haz this

[itisaterriblelove]

“I have to get out of here.” Samantha Powell’s voice was shaky with unshed tears. She could only hope that her date didn’t hear it over the tremor of the music and the rowdiness of the kids around them. Lennon Shephard squinted, leaning close to her as if he hadn’t heard what she said, waiting for her to repeat herself while the bass of some rap song thumped in the background.

Sam’s mouth filled with bile. She felt like she was going to be sick on everyone and everything. Desperate, she leaned closer and yelled louder. “I have to get out of here.”

But if Lenny heard her that time his response was interrupted by someone else grabbing her arm and spinning her around. The lights, the noise, the people, the dancing… All of it was too much. Samantha squinted at the interrupter, trying to catch her bearings.

“Sam!” DK Stewart. The absolute last person that she wanted to see—the one she was trying to avoid, and of course he’d sniffed her out. He looked entirely too pleased with himself, and whatever he was going to say to her was something that she did not want to hear.

This was a nightmare. It was a living, breathing, monster of a nightmare.

Senior Prom. She should have known that the night would be a piece of shit, every single media outlet in the world seemed to agree that proms were for disasters. How many bad teen movies had she seen warning her of exactly that? And now she was living one. A bad teen movie.

“Dance with me,” DK commanded, without so much as glancing at Lenny before pulling Sam closer. He wrapped his arms around her waist and draped his shadow over her. Domino Krew was more than a head taller than Samantha, so she had to rest her cheek against his chest. It was a comfortable fit, she couldn’t deny that, even in her current state of panic.

It wasn’t a slow song but DK moved her with an unhurried sway, as if time were at his personal command. He smelled like beer, soap, and his cologne, which left a warm feeling building in the pit of Sam’s stomach as she danced with him. She hadn’t wanted this; she couldn’t stand the thought of losing it, either. Sam lifted her hands between them, resting them uneasily on DK’s shoulders, creating a slight barrier between them as they moved.

“DK,” she warned, her voice loud enough over the music but still sounding breathless somehow. “Don’t.” Sam glanced uneasily over her shoulder to gauge Lenny’s reaction, but he’d diverted his attention back to his group of friends. A fact which actually annoyed her; he was her date, after all. Her boyfriend. Shouldn’t he be at least a little jealous?

Clearly he knew there was no reason to be. Like Sam stood a chance with someone who was totally and completely spoken for, anyway. And totally and completely oblivious, too, of everything she’d ever felt for him. Lenny knew it better than anyone.

“You owe me,” DK reminded her. It was true. Sam had promised him a dance and she hadn’t forgotten. She hadn’t thought he would snatch her away from Lenny, though.

Or that he would hold her this close.

She tried not to think about it. But then he said, “Sam,” while tilting his head down, so that his breath ghosted across her jaw as he spoke into her ear. She tensed while her heart began to seize.

Samantha swallowed, twisting her hazel eyes to meet with his gaze. His brown eyes were soft, gleaming with happiness that broke her heart.

“This is the best night of my life.” He whispered it like a secret. Then he kissed her cheek so she pushed away from him, breaking his hold of her, and stepped back. Shaking, Sam lifted a hand to run through the red strands of her hair, undoing the knots with her fingers.

DK wouldn’t stop smiling. He shook his head at her, taking in her reaction, and rolled his soft-brown eyes. “Go ahead then,” he nodded over her shoulder to where she’d left Lennon standing. The way he said it was like she was being ridiculous; like she couldn’t tear herself away from her date long enough to talk to him. Sam frowned, but didn’t fight it because she had to get away from DK.

“Tiff and I are heading out anyway.” The music had changed so it was easier for her to hear him, though Sam wished that it hadn’t been. The last person she wanted to think about right now was Tiffany Jones.

She and Tiffany were not friends any more. Not after tonight. Sam felt like maybe they hadn’t been for a long time now. She swallowed, feeling the bile rise up in her throat. Without responding, she spun away from him and made a hasty retreat.

She didn’t even bother to look for Lenny. Her head was pounding even faster than her heart, and she knew that if she didn’t get out of there right then—at that very second—she was going to explode. The mental visual of her in pieces all over the dance floor of the Senior Prom was not something that Sam relished the idea of realizing.

She ran.

She didn’t look back.

[itisaterriblelove]

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO WAKE ME.” 

On the positive side, Elle was feeling better. Better about me and better about life, apparently. No more death-glares and bans on the word “fuck.” On the negative side: Elle was feeling better at seven in the mother-fucking morning. “Is the fucking sun even up?”

I yawned with my eyes still closed, as Elle bounced excitedly on my bed. I knew it was her even before she’d said anything because of the bouncing. Clay or Violet wouldn’t have gotten onto my bed, for one, and for another if either of them had wanted me at this time of morning then it would definitely be the beginnings of a fight.

Ugh. Like a month ago someone had played a prank on Violet and filled her shampoo bottle with spiders. They were fucking tiny rubber things, but she’d still run out naked and screaming. I’m not gonna lie and say that Clay and I didn’t crack the fuck up about it. I mean, I might have to bleach my brain at some point to get the image of her naked ass out of my head… But it was fucking hilarious.

Still. I wasn’t the one who did it. I had no part in it, actually.

Sometimes I ate her food, I was guilty of that shit. And sometimes I recorded over her stuff on the DVR. And—okay!—sometimes I helped Clay to pull a prank on her when she needed to be taken down a peg or two. But that girl had the worst fucking attitude, I swear to God. So really she deserved it.

Doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t do the Spider Shampoo Prank. But she does not fucking believe me, and she keeps boobie-trapping my shit. 

Point is, if Violet was waking me up at seven in the morning then she would be doing a lot worse than just bouncing on my bed. And no way was Clay up right now. So, yeah, I knew it was Elle. Plus, it was always Elle.

Well usually. But lately we’d managed to get out of sync with each other, and every little thing seemed to push her moods to the extreme these days. 

Elle climbed on top of me—right fucking on top of my prostrate body, laying comfortably in my bed, ensconced in my covers. She straddled me and poked me in the face.

“Wakey-wakey! Eggs and bakey!” 

She smelled sweet and flowery in this entirely girly, entirely fantastic fucking way that made me want to push her right on the damn floor.

She felt even better than she smelled.

“There better be eggs and bacon when I open my eyes,” I grumbled, cranky, and still not looking at her. I yawned again. “I am trying to fucking sleep, Elvis Hirsche.” The full name was serious business and she knew it. Usually I just stuck with “baby.” 

“Don’t be grumpy, Gavin.” She actually fucking chided me. Unbelievable.

“Elle.” I swatted at her, but it was half-hearted and she was too wide awake not to be able to dodge it. I hit nothing but air.

“Gavin, Gavin, Gavin!” She bit the bottom of my chin and my eyes popped wide open.

“Fuck, Elle.” I would have pushed her off of me if she hadn’t moved the second before I could do it. This was the thing about Elvis Hirsche: She did not fucking understand personal space. She was always touching me, and I definitely didn’t hate it. But sometimes, like first thing in the fucking morning when a girl is literally sitting on you when you wake up?… Yeah. I liked it too much.

And that was not a feeling I wanted associated with Elle. Not in this lifetime, anyway. 

“Come on, sleepyhead. I’ve had four waffles with whipped cream and chocolate syrup. Oh, and a hot chocolate.” Her smile was too wide not to be adorable, but I was still too irritated to be charmed.

Okay. That was a fucking lie. But I couldn’t help myself, Elle was literally the cutest person in the entire world.

I still groaned, though. “Who the hell let you have that many waffles?” 

“They let you make your own in the East Campus dining hall, duh! No one let me, I went to breakfast by myself.”

“Damn it, Elle. Where was Eli?!” Elle’s twin brother usually monitored her sugar and candy intake when I wasn’t around to do it. Although I had my suspicions about what “monitoring” really meant to Elijah Hirsche. But that was another story for another day.

Elle on this much of a sugar high was dangerous for everyone and everything.

“Sleeping in.” She shrugged. “There better be some candy in my fucking candy drawer.”

I groaned. At this point, I was almost entirely sure that she did that shit on purpose. But that didn’t stop my body’s reaction when I heard her say fuck. All the blood rushed south. There was something about her saying it—the worst part was that it was person specific—that turned me on. Maybe it was because I knew that Elle never swore—she didn’t even like to—unless she was trying to get a reaction out of me.

“I’m taking a shower. Stay the fuck out of that drawer.” I grumbled at her, pushing the covers away and reluctantly climbing out of bed. It was definitely a better option than laying in bed and letting Elle push all of my buttons. If she didn’t look so damn innocent then I’d be one hundred percent sure that she knew exactly what she was doing to me.

“You said you’d give me guitar lessons today,” she reminded me, as if I didn’t already know why she was there. I nodded at her, yawning again, and ran a tired hand through my sleep-dragged hair. She grinned at me. 

“You look like that duster from Beauty and the Beast.”

I flipped her off and she grinned wider. “You said you wouldn’t wake me up.” I reminded her. I didn’t have any classes today until two in the afternoon, and Elle had agreed to let me sleep in if she came over early. She always agreed to let me sleep in and she never, ever did it.

“I’m sorry. But I was so excited!” She squirmed where she was sitting, as if she couldn’t keep still, and I knew that she really couldn’t. Yeah, I bet she was excited. Four fucking waffles? And whipped cream and chocolate sauce! 

Elle crinkled her nose at me. “Hurry up and shower, you stink!”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Oh, yeah?” And even though I knew I probably shouldn’t, I paced the bed and pounced on her anyway.

She screeched, already giggling before I even started to tickle her, and tried to wiggle away from me. “Yeah! Get off me before I throw up!” But she was breathless as she said it, so the words came out through laughs and pants as she fought me off.

“You love it.” I teased, letting her go. “If you wake Violet, I’m gonna pretend I don’t know you.” Elle kept giggling, unfazed.

“I’m going to tell her you gave me a key.” 

I shuddered at even the thought of Violet’s reaction to that. She could be a real—I hated to use this word, but in this case it was so fucking necessary—bitch when she wanted to be. Not because she was a woman. I fucking loved women. But because she was just plain psycho.

“You better not, baby.” I leveled a look at Elle but she just looked back at me, innocent and serious. I shook my head at her. “I mean it. Stay out of the candy drawer.” 

“I mean it! You smell like a garbage can.” She plugged her nose at me and I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll know if you sneak one bite,” I warned.

She giggled. “I know you count the candy, Gavin. Relax, you big baby. I’ll be good!” 

Yeah, she knew I counted the candy but that had never stopped her from sneaking some. And it wasn’t like I could do anything about it once she’d already eaten it. Elle on too much of a sugar high was like watching the Energizer Bunny act in an episode of Glee. Life became some sort of high speed musical.

Seriously.

I groaned at the thought and shot her one last threatening look before snatching up a change of clothes and heading to the bathroom. It was a quick shower (and a cold one), but I was slowed down by the fact that I had to make sure there weren’t any traps set in the bathroom for me to encounter. No dye in my shampoo bottle or anything like that; I wouldn’t put it past Violet, especially because I was fucking serous about my shampoo product. Hair this fantastic didn’t come without some maintenance.

So when I came out and found Elle curled up on the couch, munching on a frosted Pop-Tart, I was hardly surprised. I glared at her and she smiled beguilingly at me.

“Oops.” But even as she said it, she was shoving the last bit of it into her mouth, so I knew she wasn’t sorry. I sighed. 

“You can’t possibly have any room left in that tiny stomach.” Except I knew she could. I’d seen her pack down the food like a starving teenaged boy-band… Well, I’d also seen her in action every day, too, and she pretty much never slowed down unless I made her. So it made sense that she never seemed to gain a single pound.

Elle shrugged, her cheeks puffed out, and talked around the last of her food. “Hey, I found this in the kitchen, fair and square. It was lost behind the microwave.” She licked her lips contentedly and I tried really hard not to see the trail of her tongue as she did it. “Come here, let me see if you smell better!” And just like that she was up and bouncing around.

Yeah… It looked like it was going to be a long day.