All the Little Lies (English Prep 1)

I was mad. So mad.

This could have gone a lot worse. It still could. Gabe’s parents could find out who beat Gabe’s ass and vandalized his car, and it could lead right back to me, which would get the police involved, which would then lead to the judge, and I could kiss any hope of a scholarship or roof over my head until graduation goodbye.

I was aware I had other things to worry about, like a looming threat on my life from my dead father’s mistakes.

But a problem was a problem, no matter the size.

My feet pounded along the wooden steps as I climbed the stairs. I had no idea if Christian or Piper followed me or if anyone was talking about what had just gone down, but I didn’t really care. I needed space. I needed to be alone to calm down and think rationally. The only thing I wanted to do was scream.

I went into the first room in the hall and slammed the door. I kept the lights off, knowing the darkness would likely calm me faster.

Several breaths escaped me as I paced. It’s fine. Gabe won’t go to his parents. I basically have a confession on video. He’s smarter than that.

“Hayley.”

I sliced my head over to the crack in the door. “I’m going to kill you!” I yelled, stomping over to Christian. He pulled himself farther into the room, shutting the door behind him. This time, I turned the light on. The switch flicked, and I glared at him. His jaw was set, the sharpness drawing my attention to it.

“Is that why you came to my room so late last night? You went to Gabe’s house? To what? Teach him a lesson?”

I was pacing again, feeling like I was going to explode.

He shook out his dark hair. “That wasn’t my intention when I got there, no.”

“Ugh!” My feet stomped over to him, hovering near the wooden door. “You know what? I don’t even care. Just go back downstairs and back to fucking that girl. You two were putting on quite a show. I’m sorry Gabe had to ruin it.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to suck them back in. Christian and his minion were not important, and I hated that I sounded like a desperate, jealous girlfriend.

“What if I don’t want to?” Christian pulled himself away from the door and stalked over to me. I stood my ground, my stare never wavering.

“You looked like you wanted to before Gabe showed up. Don’t let me stop you.” God. Why was I acting like this?

“Does it bother you? Seeing me with Kayla?”

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue. “Not one bit.”

His head cocked to the side. His hooded gray eyes almost had me backtracking my words. The way he was looking at me had me forgetting I was angry with him. I wanted his lips on mine in the worst way.

On cue, I heard a girly voice slur from the hallway, “Christian? Christiannnn, where are you?”

Jealous rage crept along my limbs. The thought of Christian sticking his mouth anywhere near Kayla made me want to rip her hair out. Oh my God. It does bother me. So much.

I panicked with the thought. I rushed over to the door and put my hand on the doorknob, ready to shove Christian out, right into Kayla’s arms. Maybe then I’d have no choice but to ignore my feelings, and maybe I could stop bending all my rules and remember how difficult it was to heal your heart when someone close to you was ripped away.

The metal knob twisted in my grasp, but Christian’s palm landed on top of my hand. He spun me around so my back rested along the door. The click of the lock sent a thrill all the way to my toes. His brooding eyes were hooded as they lazily dropped to my mouth. Do it. Kiss me. My heart thrashed in my chest.

“Let’s stop playing this game, Hayley.”

“I’m not playing a game.”

His arms caged me in, each one resting beside my head. His knee found its way in between my legs, and I had to fight the urge not to move my body. Everything felt hot. A surge of energy fanned over my skin.

“You are. We’ve been playing a game since the moment you kissed me outside of Pete and Jill’s.” The memory was something I replayed almost daily. Any time my mind would wander, it’d end up right there: me kissing Christian. It was like hitting the tip of an iceberg.

I swallowed, my resolve slipping with him being so close. No. “You’re the one playing games.” I tipped my chin even higher to meet his stare. “You tell me you hate me, try to torment me at school, swoop in to save me—even when I tell you not to—sneak into my bedroom every night, cause me to forget my name, then ignore me at school, followed by an eye-fuck whenever we’re in a moment like this, and then you start kissing another girl right in front of me, your hands skimming her body.” My voice grew as my list went on, feeling more and more agitated. “I hate you,” I muttered, my eyes dipping to his mouth. I knew what his lips felt like on mine. They made everything disappear—morphed hate into love, and sadness into happiness.

“I hate you, too,” he groaned before dropping his hands onto my face and smashing his lips onto mine.

My heart jumped to my throat as his mouth covered my lips. My hands wrapped around his neck, going into his hair as his tongue flicked my upper lip to give him access. It roamed over mine, and I deepened the kiss, seeing sparks ignite behind my eyes. Christian groaned into my mouth, and I got off on the sound. I liked him at my mercy. I liked that I affected him as much as he affected me. Every longing stare, every scorched touch, all the pent-up energy we held every single night in my room was coming to light.