Chapter 3: Chapter Three—Sweeny

Hattie drives about how she looks—wild.

Sweeny felt her stomach lift in her gut a few times over the hilly roads. That was until they made it to the scary forest that reminded her of some southern gothic novel she read in her ninth-grade English class.

Why was everything so wet?

She knew they called it the wetlands, but heck, couldn’t some of the trees not look glum?

“You’re pale,” Hattie said, turning left down a small dirt road.

Sweeny gripped the ‘help me’ handle, pressing her foot into the floorboard in a desperate attempt to feel grounded. The Jeep provided little safety with no doors and a questionable seat belt.

“I’m nervous, or gonna puke, one of those.”

Hattie laughed, a singsong sound that warmed Sweeny’s insides despite the NASCAR attempt she currently subjected them to. “Listen, everyone is chill, but let me fill you in first.”

That sounded promising.

Hattie slowed a bit, turning a tight right down what looked like a manmade trail and into a huge opening. Sweeny regretted coming immediately. Lines of pickup trucks, four-wheelers and side-by-sides lined a muddy pit with hills and dips.

Hattie parked and turned to face Sweeny. Her makeup free face looked bright, and Sweeny noticed a lip piercing that wasn’t there that morning.

“Abita is full of characters. We have cliques despite our size, but not all are like the ones on TV.”

Sweeny swallowed. “What kinds are they?”

“You’ve got the typical athletes and academics. Rednecks and cowboys, which aren’t the same, trust me. Then you have the preppy girls, the tomboys and the outsiders.”

“Sounds pretty typical,” Sweeny said. “I’ve moved a couple of times, and they have those at most schools.”

Hattie smiled. “We also have The Trois Loup.”

Sweeny tossed her a look. “The what?”

Hattie grabbed her keys but didn’t get out just yet. “It’s three senior boys.”

“Ah, like a boy band? TikTok stars?”

She laughed. “No, not exactly. They are famous in a small-town, kind of. Their families are the founding families of Abita Springs. They look much older than seventeen, gorgeous really—”

“You’re starry-eyed. Which one do you like?”

“Mindless dreaming,” Hattie said. “They keep to themselves most of the time. It’s—you’ll see, come on.”

Sweeny went to get out, but Hattie stopped her. “You’ll sink to the bottom of the Earth in those shoes. Hold on.”

Hattie dug through her cluttered backseat and pulled out a pair of rubber boots. “What size are you?”

“A six.”

Hattie made a face. “These are eights, but they’ll have to do.”

Sweeny pulled off her tennis shoes and slid on the boots, opening her door to sink into the mud. With each step toward the pit, she gripped her shoes with her toes, praying she didn’t trip or lose them.

Hot football stadium lights scattered around the pit, brightening up what looked like fifty or sixty kids. “Is this all of the senior class?”

Hattie glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “Most of them, yeah.”

Sweeny had forty kids in one classroom at her last school.

Once they topped the hill, she glanced down into the pit to see mounds of mud. Hattie laced her arm through Sweeny’s and pulled her toward a few pick-up trucks.

Sweeny’s heart pounded against her ribcage as they neared. Hattie let go a few feet away, hopping into a guy’s lap that sat on an opened tailgate, leaned back against his palms.

His dark eyes averted to Sweeny’s and she felt herself hold in a laugh. A cowboy? Hattie? Not to judge, but she never would have placed them together.

His heavy boots swung as he curled her to his chest. “This is my new neighbor, Sweeny. Sweeny, this is Kurt.”

Kurt tipped his hat, offering his hand to her. Sweeny took it, feeling at ease when he smiled. Kurt had a pretty boy look despite that fact he looked like he worked with his hands. His hat covered most of his face but a light five-o-clock shadow dusted across his jaw.

A Hispanic girl sat on the other side of Hattie, with perfect makeup and a small frame.

“I’m Sarah Beth. Hattie told us about you today.”

“It was good stuff, scout’s honor,” Hattie said.

“Come sit by me,” Sarah Beth said, making room.

Sweeny felt relieved sliding in beside her, looking out at the groups of kids. A familiar pressure tickled the nape of her neck. She forgot to take her medicine, but the pain wasn’t enough to make her worry.

A commotion vibrated from the left when headlights flashed and the class grew restless. Sweeny watched as a Hummer pulled up and three boys climbed out.

At least she assumed they were boys.

They didn’t look it.

From the distance, she couldn’t see every detail, but enough to know they were attractive, and probably The Trois Loup—whatever the heck that was—that Hattie mentioned.

“So,” Sarah Beth said. “Would you rather be able to freeze time or travel in it?”

Kurt rolled his eyes as Hattie glanced at Sarah Beth with a determined look. “Starting the night off tough, Sarah Beth.”

Sweeny laughed while watching Hattie decide. Kurt leaned forward to look at Sweeny. “This is an everyday thing; you’ll get used to it.”

“Probably freeze time,” she said.

“Why?” Sarah Beth said. “If you choose travel, you could have stopped yourself from tripping at the sixth-grade graduation.”

“No one remembers that but you.”

Kurt chuckled. “Not true. I’ll never forget it.”

Sweeny glanced back over at the newcomers. Several girls surrounded them, and Sweeny laughed to herself. Girls will flock to anything with muscles.

At her laugh, one of the guys, the tallest from the distance, looked her way. He couldn’t possibly notice her from the space, but it seemed like it.

With tensed shoulders, he tapped the guy beside him, drawing his attention her way.

This one glared at her. She could tell his hair was dark, maybe a mixed ethnicity—with huge shoulders and arms.

His glare reminded her of the time their rival football team ate at the same restaurant on Friday before their rival game.

Which was insane since she’d never met any of them. The third man-child, with black as midnight hair, caught a glimpse of their glaring and followed it to her.

He smiled.

And it set her stomach on fire.

It felt like those jalapeno peppers she’d tasted on a dare in middle school. Only it didn’t stop at her stomach, it traveled down to her thighs, leaving liquid fire in its wake.

The girl staring up at him didn’t notice that all three stared her way, and she shoved at Midnight’s chest, but he didn’t budge.

He stared. This was incredibly awkward, but Sweeny couldn’t look away. Like a train wreck.

Suddenly the pain at the base of her neck thumped against her skull. She shut her eyes and wished it away.

“You okay?” Hattie asked from over Sarah Beth’s shoulder.

“Yeah, just a little headache.”

“I’ve got some weed in my Jeep; want some?” Hattie asked.

Sweeny laughed. “No, Momma would smell that a mile away. Been there, tried that.”

Hattie offered her a first bump when a loud buzzer rang out over the makeshift arena. Sweeny shrieked, causing laughter from people standing near.

“A warning next time?” she asked.

Kurt patted Hattie’s thigh so she would move, then turned and leaned over her for a kiss. “You wanna ride with me?” he asked.

“Do you even have to ask?” she asked.

Kurt swung his arm over her shoulder and walked toward a four-wheeler nearby. Sweeny leaned forward on the tailgate to see most of the class rushing toward their ATV’s and she felt excited.

Sarah Beth leaned in and said, “What in the actual donkey butt.”

Sweeny glanced at her wide brown eyes and followed them toward her left where Midnight pursued them.

Oh no. Please God, I’m not prepared for words.

What was that her mother always said? Calgon take me away. She didn’t know who that was, but she wished he would show up right now.

In her mind, dark Vampire Diaries music played, drumming against her pounding head. Sarah Beth stiffened beside her, his presence apparently unusual around their group.

Her mouth parted as he neared them. Much, much better up close, not that the distant version wasn’t perfection. His broad shoulders stood proud as he neared, a loose Abita Springs Football T-shirt formed to impressive arm porn, with low-slung jeans and muddy rubber boots.

Dark black locks fell onto his forehead and helped cast a shadow over his heavy brow. Dimples dented each side of his grin, and as he closed in, Sweeny felt a heavy pressure down south.

She’d been turned on before. She’d been in compromising situations, but nothing made her feel like fire with just a glance. It felt like she was nearing Henry Cavil or one of the Chris’s in person.

“Stay calm,” Sarah Beth whispered.

Was she not calm? Had she said something aloud? Besides her pits sweating like Niagara Falls, she was sure she felt numb.

His square jaw widened as he smiled, showing a row of teeth. Sweeny felt relieved that the one of the left was crooked since the rest of him deemed perfect.

Focus on the crook.

“Gardes don,” a rich voice rang.

Richer than chocolate but sweet like honey. Did he speak English or was she daydreaming?

Sarah Beth sat silent beside her, and Sweeny knew why. Those dark green eyed zeroed in on her, not Sarah Beth or their surroundings. Her. Sweeny Harper. The new girl.

Her mind finally caught up, so she said the only thing she could think to say. “Huh?”

His deep laugh tingled over her skin, landing in a heavy pool in her panties. “I said, gardes don. It means look at that, and I mean look at you.”

She looked, all right, at him. His heavy Cajun dialect felt foreign compared to the other kids she’d met so far, but it was Louisiana.

“Sarah Beth,” he said, without looking away.

“Hey Lucas,” she whispered, finding her shoes interesting.

“You want to ride? It’ll pass a good time.”

Ride? Good time? Never mind, Calgon, we’re good here.

“Actually, I don’t know. I’m a little afraid. I have a fear of crashing into a fiery death,” she said with a shrug.

“My foot! Mais, J’mais. You’ll be safe with me, yeah?”

Sweeny believed him, she thought, from what she understood of him. Shaking her head, she watched the playful glint in his dark eyes and he lingered nearer to her face.

“You don’t trust me, cher?”

Sweeny followed the perfect structure of his jaw to his full mouth. What is wrong with me?

Straightening, she lifted her shoulders and said, “I don’t know you, cowboy.”

He chuckled, sliding his palms into his jeans pocket. “Lucas LeBlanc, if you’re racing, get over here!” someone shouted over a loudspeaker.

Sweeny felt another throb in her skull, so she placed her palm there again.

“I’m not a cowboy, no. Not by far. But it’s tradition to ride with somebody, and my somebody is gonna be you, yeah?”

Sweeny’s blood began to heat.

With him so close, she couldn’t think straight, and with a killer headache, it made it impossible to speak.

“You got a headache?” he asked in a low voice.

“Just a bit, I—”

Reaching forward, he placed his large palm on the nape of her neck. Jolts of electricity buzzed down her back, her eyes meeting his as he watched relief travel across her face. His rough palm sent heat to no-man’s land.

Pure lust.

This was what Momma warned her about in junior high. Those crazy hormones, she hadn’t been lying. This felt like … witchery.

“That better, yeah?”

Sweeny dampened her parched lips, nodding, since she couldn’t pull together any words. How in the …

He chuckled. “Alright then, Laissez les bon temps rouler.”

Sweeny yelped when he snatched her up from the tailgate and into his arms. Both boots fell into the mud with a splat. Sarah Beth sat on the tailgate with her mouth opened but jumped down to grab her boots.

Lucas’ palms rested against her waist and thighs, cradling her to him. A scent of sandalwood and ash baptized her. She clung to him as he carried her toward a huge side-by-side with massive tires and a huge motor. Sitting her down in the passenger seat, she watched him jog around to the driver’s side and get in as if they were old friends.

She must have fallen asleep on her bed and missed the actual mud-ride? This was a dream. A dream she was sure to wake up from at any moment, and sadly, she didn’t want to. What was wrong with her? She would never let some random guy carry her away like that, would she? It all felt so wrongfully right.

The engine purred to life and mud slung around them as they shot toward the center of the pit where everyone lined up.

Sweeny felt heated glares and curious looks as they parked. One of Luke’s friends sat beside them on a four-wheeler, his dark eyes bored into hers.

It was the one with a resting douche face from before. Lifting his nose, he took a whiff into the air. Sweeny cringed at his audacity and tried to sneak a whiff of her armpits. It couldn’t be that bad, could it?

“Please don’t crash us.” She turned to Lucas.

Lucas’ eyes averted toward hers, his smile easygoing and demeanor relaxed. “You’ll be fine, cher. I’ve got you, yeah.”

The buzzer sounded, Lucas sent them into a mad dash forward, his arm stopping her from flying onward with a chuckle. She clutched the side of the seat, watching the blur of the world fly by them.

Sweeny saw mud soar around, dampening her cheeks and legs. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that she was barefoot in a stranger’s ride. She needed to focus on not dying.

They turned the corner of the path with Douchebag riding their tail. Luke mumbled something, but Sweeny couldn’t make it out. Her heart drummed against her chest, her head spinning from the speed. The smell of woods, nighttime and filth seeped into her bones, and she didn’t even know someone could like those smells.

Rounding the last curve, Lucas tightened his fist around the steering wheel, glancing over at her with a lifted brow. She must have looked like a ghost by the smile that curled at his lips.

Their eye contact should have made her blush, but it only warmed her from the inside out. What would it be like to kiss a guy like that? A guy that made her swoon with just a glance? She would probably never find out—

Sweeny shot forward when Douchebag bumped them from the rear. The crowd roared as he sped beside them, the same nasty sneer on his handsome face.

Lucas yelled something at him, but Sweeny couldn’t make it out. Obviously, he heard and spit in his direction. A flash of red traveled across his eyes, causing Sweeny’s stomach to drop.

It had to be a gleam from the taillights.

Luke pressed the gas harder and swerved to miss Douchebag’s attack at their wheels. What was his deal? Sweeny began to sweat, asking forgiveness for all her sins and crying for the things she never experienced, because she was about to die.

She waited for the bright lights to come pull her in, but they didn’t.

Lucas curled his arm around her shoulder with one hand, swerving to the left to avoid another attack, and took a small hill to the side, flying them over and into the air. It sucked her breath from her body, the scream on her tongue went back down her throat and she curled herself into the crook of his arm.

Remembering the smell of him because it’d most definitely be her last.

Sparks flew around their ATV, his palm warm on her shoulder. Her body hummed at their closeness and then they landed. Sliding into a pile of mud, the crowd went wild as Lucas stood up, pulled Sweeny from the ride and cheered with everyone.

All the other contenders pulled to a stop in front of them. Most clapped, but Douchebag only stared, his windblown clothes wild like his eyes, fists clutched at his side.

“Lucas LeBlanc, fifth year in a row!” the voice from earlier yelled. “And his friend … the new girl. Sweeny Harper.”

Heat bloomed under her cheeks, not liking the spotlight. She searched for Hattie, needing a way out when Lucas drew her attention with his palm.

His rough fingers curled around the nape of her neck, like earlier. Two pools of green glared down at her face. Surely, he noticed the mud and fear there; maybe he’d offer to take her home? She wanted to go home and was sure she’d possibly pissed in her panties.

Before she blinked, he leaned down and kissed her.

Sweeny felt the Earth still; the moon beamed brighter. Even the sound of the stadium lights buzzing from the distance purred into her body.

The crowd grew restless, a crescendo roared before everything stilled. Lucas’ other palm traveled down her arm to her side, pulling her close to him.

It wasn’t aggressive or savage like she felt on the inside. It was soft, caressing and burned her soul in half. Something popped and two of the stadium lights burned out, causing a groan to fly across the crowd.

Then it shocked her.

His lips. Their kiss. Like when you jump on the trampoline with your friends and can’t touch without a zap. It felt like that on her mouth, leaving a burn that hurt so good.

Sweeny pulled back, pressing her fingers to her lips. Lucas’ eyes were dark as midnight, mouth parted and no smile. Something sparked all right, and it wasn’t just the light. The rational part of her begged to slap him. We don’t know this guy? But the irrational side won the battle, because something deeper rattled her soul at that kiss, and by the look of astonishment on his face, she knew he felt it, too.

“Sweeny.”

She waited until she felt someone pull at her elbow before looking away. Hattie’s smile was huge; Kurt stood behind her with skeptical brows.

Did he not like Lucas? Sweeny didn’t know anything past the way he tasted—and smelled.

Her Momma would laugh at her now. She wasn’t easy—now look at her. Kissing strangers.

“What in the—what was that?” Hattie whispered.

“I don’t—I don’t know,” Sweeny said, looking back over her shoulder to see he was gone.

Coldness chilled her skin in spite of the summer heat.

“I want to go home,” Sweeny whispered. “Is it over?”

Hattie smiled. “Yeah, y’all burned out the lights.”

Sweeny didn’t wait on her. She walked toward Hattie’s Jeep, bare feet soaking into the mud. What in the world just happened to her? An Asgard wannabe kissed the daylights out of her.

She could definitely say it was an interesting start to the school year.

Sweeny jumped into the Jeep, staring out at the group of kids scattering because the lack of lights. Hattie jogged toward her several minutes later.

She hopped in and glared at her. “What in the Chris Evans was that?”

“Just drive.”

Hattie drove them out before the vehicles were too backed up. The night air felt good on Sweeny’s skin. “Sweeny, Lucas LeBlanc just kissed you. Do you know how long the female population at our school has prayed for that to happen? I mean … why were you riding with him? And what happened to my boots?”

“He just walked over, asked me to ride, and when I said no, he picked me up and carried me to his ATV. My boots fell off in the process. Sarah Beth has them.”

Hattie hit her palm against the steering wheel and laughed. “I mean … I’m flabbergasted.”

“You and me both.”

Hattie leaned back and glanced over at her. “How was it?”

“The ride? Scary—”

“No, the kiss. The lights sparked out.”

“The lights were coincidental. But this kiss, it was—memorable.”

Hattie laughed. “Yeah, that’ll be memorable to everyone in the senior class. I’m sure the picture will end up in the yearbook.”

Sweeny cursed. “I hope you’re joking about the kiss,” she mumbled. “How do you understand him?”

Hattie laughed. “It’s Louisiana, what did you expect? He’s a Cajun. It’s called being a coonass.”

“Gross.”

“It is what it is.”

Sweeny pulled at a string on her shorts. “What about his friend? I call him Douchebag.”

“I don’t have to ask, that’s Jaxson Broussard.”

“Yeah, he tried to run us off the path. We nearly crashed, and he sneered at me the entire night.”

Hattie shrugged. “Sounds about right. He’s a jackass. His parents own half of the parish, and they act like it, too.”

It didn’t make sense that laidback, smiley Lucas hung around someone like that, but who was Sweeny to say. She’d only been in town one night and everything had become a circus.

Hattie dropped Sweeny off in front of her house, leaving her with a smile and a promise to come over. Her tennis shoes hung from her hand as she walked across the concrete to her front door.

Mosquitoes buzzed around the front porch light while Sweeny unlocked the deadbolt with her key.

Music bumped from the house, and Sweeny smiled at the sound of Gangster’s Paradise on the other side.

Momma sat in the living room with a drink and her feet against the ottoman. She turned toward her, bright eyes and a smile. “How was it?”

Sweeny could go into the entire spill, but for some reason she didn’t want to tell Momma she kissed a stranger. Not that she hadn’t done it before, but Sweeny was the responsible one. Apparently.

“It was fun.”