Free Punk 57 by Penelope Douglas

thighs and slowly rise up my body, resting on my face.
    I can hear the beat of drums and guitar pounding out of his earbuds, but he just sits there, the indents between his eyebrows growing deeper.
    Reaching over, I gently tug out his earbuds and cast a look over my shoulder at my friends, all of them watching us.
    “They think you’re homeless,” I tell him, turning back and seeing his eyes drift from them up to me. “But you’re not eating, and you don’t speak. I think you’re a ghost.”
    I give him a mischievous smile and drop the earbuds, placing my hand over his heart. His warmth immediately courses through my hand, making my stomach flip a little. “Nope, scratch that,” I add, pushing forward. “I feel a heartbeat. And it’s getting faster.”
    Masen just watches me, as if waiting for something. Maybe he wants me to disappear, but he hasn’t pushed me away yet.
    I take my hand off his chest and lean back again. “I remember you, you know? You were at the scavenger hunt in February. At the warehouse in Thunder Bay.”
    He still doesn’t answer, and I’m starting to wonder if I have it wrong. The guy that night was of few words, but he, at least, ended up being friendly. How do you toy with someone who won’t engage?
    “Do you like to go to the drive-in, Masen?” I ask. “That’s your name, right?” I look down and fiddle with his pen, trying to act coy. “The weather’s getting nice enough for it. Maybe you’d like to come with my girlfriends and me some time. Wanna give me your number?”
    His chest caves with every exhale, and I feel my skin start to hum as he just holds my eyes. His deep green pools glow with a fire I can’t place. Anger? Fear? Desire? What the hell is he thinking, and why won’t he speak? I force the lump down my throat, feeling like I’m waiting for the Jack to pop out of the box.
    “You don’t like people?” I press, leaning in and whispering, “Or you don’t like girls?”
    “Miss Trevarrow?” a stern female voice I recognize as Principal Burrowes calls. “Off the table.”
    I turn my head to acknowledge her, but then, all of a sudden, hands grab my waist and pull me forward.
    I gasp, shocked, as I land in Masen’s lap, straddling him.
    “I like girls,” he whispers in my ear, and my heart is pounding so hard it hurts.
    Then the tip of his tongue glides up my neck, and I’m frozen, breathing a mile a minute as heat races through my blood.
    Fuck.
    “But you?” His deep voice and hot breath fall over the skin of my neck. “You kind of taste like shit.”
    What?
    And then he stands up, and I tumble off his lap, landing on the floor. I shoot my hands out, catching myself.
    What the hell?
    Laughter echoes around me, and I dart my head around, seeing a few people at nearby tables chuckling as they stare at me.
    Walls close in around me, and I burn with embarrassment.
    I don’t have to turn around to know Lyla is probably smiling, as well.
    Son of a bitch.
    And then I watch as Masen Laurent grabs his notebook and pen, drapes his earbuds around his neck, and walks around me, leaving the cafeteria without another word.
    Asshole. What the hell is his problem?
    I stand up, brushing off my skirt, and head back to my table.
    That wasn’t the first time anyone’s laughed at my expense, but it will be the last.

 

     
    “I’m going to Banana Republic.” Ten rushes up and hooks an arm around my neck. “Want to come?”
    I shake my head, taking a left down the hall. “I need to get home. It’s my turn to make dinner tonight.”
    The school is empty, and we just finished practice, but while everyone else is showering and getting ready for wherever they’re rushing off to, I’m still in my shorts, sports bra, and tank top. I just want to get out of here. This day threw me off track, and I need to regroup.
    That new kid, Masen, is a real piece of work, and I’d had to turn off my phone to ignore the Facebook notifications after lunch. Thank goodness no one had