Free Tremble by Addison Moore

you even at that party last night?”
    “No.” It comes out curt. “I had to open this morning. Does Gage have naked pictures of you?” He looks simultaneously hurt and horrified.
    I don’t think there’s going to be a right answer to this one. Either way, I’m pretty sure Logan is going to beat the crap out Gage later—oops and oh freaking wel .
    “Maybe. Someone spiked the lemonade, and I was wasted. I woke up without any clothes on, and I asked Gage if he did it. He said yes.”
    His expression lightens. He folds his hands and considers this while looking around at the wal s like he’s seeing them for the very first time.
    “You’re going to kil him, aren’t you?”

    “Yes,” he gives a slow nod.
    “It’s like…” I grapple for words, “he’s taking this whole boyfriend thing too far.” OK, so maybe I am too, but it’s al Logan’s fault. I never wanted to do this to begin with. If I don’t suck face with Gage on a regular basis, he’s practical y threatened to hook up with Carly, or Michel e, or some other hot girl I’m not even aware of yet.
    Logan reaches over and tugs me onto his lap. His head rests on my shoulder as he combs his fingers through my hair.
    “I heard El is gave you flowers.”
    “Yeah, but I lost them.”
    “Gage is writing you a poem. I found it scrawled in his chicken scratch on his desk.” He sounds decidedly hurt.
    “A poem?” I almost want to say because he saw mine, back in my old room, but Logan would freak if he knew I was time traveling. Or light dr…
    You’re time traveling? He asks.
    “Shit,” I whisper. I hate when I forget he can hear me.
    Just the once. I say, trying to wash the time with Chloe out of my mind.
    Where? He inspects the back of my hand for the pale spots that appear each time I cross dimensions.
    L.A. to see my dad. I tried to change things, but he still died…
    Sorry.
    He brushes the loose hair from off my face and bounces a kiss off my forehead. I meet his lips and wrap my arms around his waist. We don’t talk about Gage anymore.

    Chapter Seventeen

    Fake

    I wouldn’t say I was cheating.
    It’s not my fault I can hear El is thinking—struggling to solve problem after problem on our Algebra Two quiz. It’s not my fault El is wore shorts and his bare legs are pul ed back brushed up against mine. I blame Gage, real y.
    Gage drops his pen and leans over to get it. I catch him giving a disapproving glance at my handy footwork before sitting upright in his seat again. I offered him the job first, so I don’t want to hear him squawking about it later. Besides, it’s a total coincidence that El is is working out for me this way. What’s a little flirting? It’s not like Logan’s going to mind. He practical y has me whored out to Gage anyway.
    Besides, I’m stil miffed over that whole naked thing—so miffed I haven’t shared two words with Gage this morning.
    I rearrange the numbers on the last two problems. Actual y I’m fairly certain I’ve corrected them, and it wil be El is who gets them wrong. Then the bel rings.
    “Nice work,” Gage says as we hand in our papers.
    “Best test I ever took.” El is pats me on the back before heading out the door. It’s like he thinks I’m cheating on Gage with him now.
    “So did Logan knock you around?” I ask Gage as we head out of class.
    “You lie to him and tel him I have pictures?”
    “I guess that’s a yes. And no I didn’t lie. Do you have pictures?” We make our way into the sea of bodies bobbing up and down in the hal .
    His Adam’s apple rises and fal s dramatical y.
    “You…” I start, stil reaching for something intel igible to say.
    “I don’t—didn’t.” He holds up a hand. “I was tempted.” We hit an even stride on the stairs. I see Briel e heading in the opposite direction, but she’s gone before I can say anything.
    “Why’d you take my clothes off?” I try to keep it to a whisper, but a few heads spin around in front of us.
    “You puked al over