Wicked Restless

“It’s okay. I was just worried…you know, about your bruises. Your eye looks better,” she says, reaching to touch my cheekbone lightly. It takes all of my willpower not to turn away—not because it hurts, but because I don’t want Lindsey touching it. I don’t want Emma seeing Lindsey touch it.

“Yeah…I heal quickly,” I say, all of my attention on Emma. I’m not even sure I said that last part out loud.

My trance is broken when a yellow Velcro strap slides along the ground, sticking to my leg. I bend down to pick it up as some guy from our student government waves his hands emphatically on the nearby stage, the microphone in his hand.

“And we have our second team of players. You,” he shouts, pointing at me. I glance around and look back at him, pointing to myself as he nods. “It’s a hundred-dollar bookstore card if you win the three-legged race. Get on up here with your partner.”

“I’m good, dude,” I say, not wanting to be part of some stupid spirit week activity. But Lindsey changes my mind. Lindsey, of all people, changes everything.

“Oh my god, no…you have to do this. Trust me. You and Emma—she is the freaking master at this. Remember, Em? Last year, at the pre-med picnic? Seriously, it’s like she was born for this race. Everyone who was her partner won.” Lindsey waves her hand at the stage, buying us time while she urges her friend to join me. If Lindsey only knew.

“I don’t really feel up to it, Linds,” Emma starts.

“I really could use a hundred bucks credit,” I say just for guilt. Suddenly, I’m desperate for her to do this race with me, to come with me, to give me five more minutes of her time. Her eyes slide up to meet mine, and I say something entirely different to her with my look. I beg her. Please, do this one stupid thing with me. I can’t explain it, but I feel like this might be the turn.

Emma glances back to her friend, who is literally jumping up and down while clapping. She sighs and reaches for the Velcro strap, taking it from me and walking toward the stage. I trail behind, ignoring Lindsey’s touch on my back, her encouragement and cheer for me. All I see is the wild strands of Emma’s hair twisting in the wind like the fingers of temptation calling me to them.

It’s going to storm tonight. I can smell it in the air.

* * *

Emma

I hate spirit week. Whose idea was it to have field day anyhow? I’m finding out, then I’m going to sink their campaign when they run for student government again. I might run against them. My platform will be to do away with forced audience participation.

When I get to the chair at the starting line, I sit down, moving my leg as far away from the edge as I can so I don’t have to feel him. I can’t feel him. Why doesn’t he get that? He started this—he’s the one who decided to get to me through Lindsey. And she can’t be hurt by whatever happens next. It doesn’t matter what his reasons were, or what happened in our past.

It’s hard to hold on to that promise to myself though when he’s right here. I don’t know what the scent is that he wears, but it’s hypnotic, and it messes with my good sense. I’m convinced that’s what makes me weak. It can’t be my heart—I can’t defeat it if that’s the case.

“Okay, contestants, time to strap yourself to your partners,” the guy orders through the microphone. Andrew chuckles from somewhere deep in his chest. I glance up and see Lindsey watching us from the other side of the main mall. She’s waving and smiling.

Andrew bends down, his hand running down my jeans along my calf as he wraps the Velcro strap around both of our legs. The heat from his body rushes through me instantly followed by more of his scent, and I feel my stomach drop in a free fall. I shut my eyes and breathe out slowly, just trying to survive this, to make the right decision.

“Please…please stop,” I breathe, my eyes closing as I slump back into my chair.

His hands freeze against me as his head falls forward.

“I haven’t slept with her,” he says, his hands moving again to fasten our strap. He remains leaning forward when he’s done, not ready to look me in the eye. That’s probably for the best because my eyes are wide—I was so sure they’d been intimate. Those thoughts, they’re the ones that tortured me. To find out that they haven’t been as intimate as I’d imagined…

“You have to know, Emma. If I’d only known you were in the dark…if you’d only known where I was. Things…they would have gone so differently. I won’t even say could have, because damn Emma…I know they would have. I’m going to talk to Lindsey. I’ll tell her everything. Just don’t go to that dinner. Please.”