Chapter 13: CHAPTER 13

"Cross, stop it," I murmured as Mrs. Ken continued her winded speech.

At our school, announcements and events were given by the health teachers. Everyone sat giddy with excitement, impatient for Mrs. Ken to get to the highlight of all the events.

"Cross, I said stop it," I repeated under my breath. His fingers paused where they'd been tracing the curve of my blouse. In the shuffle of bunching desks together to make space for mats on the floor, my top had ridden just enough to show a sliver of skin.

Cross promptly tugged the fabric down, but instead of removing his hand after, he kept it there. It was ticklish to say the least.

"Why?" he asked, too softly.

He sat to my left, Eliza on his other side, who was currently fixing me with her most withering glare.

Amy didn't need to tell me she didn't like me; Eliza's body language gave it all away. And I might've even used something like this to show Amy I had Cross’s attention, but this was his typical teasing. I needed something more straightforward. Like him telling me I'm pretty. That was not the case...yet.

"It's tickling and I don't like it," I said.

More like tickling and making me a nervous, but he didn't need to know his touches did that.

"Ah." To my relief, Cross removed his hand.

"And last but certainly not least," Ms. Ken's voice rose theatrically, "the annual hotel trip to Palms Beach Hotel!"

The room detonated with high pitched squeals and whoops. The most awaited event of the school year.

The place where freshmen became wild, sophomores partied, juniors lost their virginity, and seniors did all of the above. Last year, Amy lost it to Cross as a junior. And me being me, lost it to no one.

"I will hand out permission slips and the information packet. Don't lose this. It tells you the hotel fee, the process of choosing a roommate, and a plethora of other information. I'll leave you to find it for yourselves. Now we may finally begin class."

Ms. Ken flipped the black board to display the activities for today. I could tell she was proud of the detailed artwork showcasing the positions for each exercise.

"We will start with how to help someone if they're choking..." She gave a brief overview of the universal sign of someone choking, followed with steps on how to properly do the Heimlich maneuver. She clapped her hands. "Now practice with each other."

As expected, Eliza jumped right into action. She not-so-subtly hiked her black miniskirt before poking her rear as she bent, clutching her throat with fake moans. I muffled a giggle. This looked like a bad audition for an adult site rather than a person struggling for air. Before I could fix Cross with an expectant look, he unceremoniously shoved me in her direction.

At that moment, Ms. Ken's gaze landed squarely on us. I groaned. Not wanting to appear unproductive, I balled mny fist and pushed against her stomach from behind.

Eliza jerked away furiously. "You're doing it wrong!" she snapped.

What she really meant: Cross should be touching me, not you.

"Good job Clara!" Ms. Ken praised. After continuous scouting, her eyes widened. "David, lower your hands-below the ribcage, not the chest."

David grinned unrepentantly. Catching my gaze, he winked. In his hands Kelly was beat red. I shot him my best knock it off expression. Kelly was sweet. He knew better than that.

Meanwhile, Eliza positioned herself behind Cross, her stance laughably wrong. Hands too low, balance nonexistent, and her breasts pressed fully against his back in a move that looked more like seduction tharn a lifesaving maneuver, but I wouldn't be the one totell her that.

"Eliza, above the belly button," Ms. Ken corrected.

Cross slipped from her grip with practiced ease. "My turn."

Eliza beamed and turned around, lips parting for another over-the-top performance. Only she was left awkwardly moaning when Cross bypassed her completely. In a smooth pivot, he spun me instead, my back colliding into his chest. His fingers pressed into my ribs, just beneath the swell of my chest.

"That's too high!" I squeaked, shoving at his wrists. He didn't budge, if anything his grip firmed, steady and unyielding.

I glared up at him. He blinked, mouth tilting toward a secret smile. "Shhh...let me figure it out." His voice was husky, teasing as he silently counted my ribs with maddening precision. His other hand pressed two fingers above my navel. It was taking him forever to find the position, but when he did, he pressed lightly.

"Good Cross! That's the right spot! You too, Henry!" Ms. Kern approved.

Instead of releasing me as I expected, Cross pulled me flush against him, then lifted me clean to spin me like a rag doll.

"Hey! Put me down!" I squealed. The classroom whirled around me.

He only laughed harder, spinning me faster until colors muddied together like a merry-go-round on steroids.

When he finally set me down my legs wobbled. I leaned onto him for balance, clutching his arms until the dizziness faded. Not that he was doing much betterwe both staggered trying to find our footing.

"Alright class!" Ms. Ken clapped, "Next we will be doing CPR. One of you plays the victim, the other the rescuer." Turning to our group, she pointed to Eliza and I. "One of you will give chest comnpressions while the other gives rescue breaths. Start!"

"I’ll give rescue breaths," Eliza declared instantly, already gliding to the head of the mat like a queen claiming her rightful throne.

Meanwhile, Cross stretched leisurely on the mat, folding his hands behind his head like he was about to sunbathe by the poolside.

I pinched his side. "You're supposed to be unresponsive. Not lounging."

He dropped his arms to the side, but not before smiling suggestively. "And you're supposed to be taking my shirt off."

He grabbed my hand, guiding it upwards to the top button of his shirt. The motion dragged me closer, leaning over him as my hair fluttered around us like a curtain. His eyes pinned me in place, brimming with mischief.

"You can start here, buttercup."

And the worst part?

He was right.

In a real emergency we'd cut the shirt open to apply shocking pads. But this wasn't realit was make believe. Nevertheless, Ms. Ken did suggest exposing the stomach for those who were willing.

I fumbled at the first button, clumsy under the weight of his stare. I felt his eyes over me, taking in my hair, the light graze as he touched it, then my nose, my lips, staying there for a minute, before landing on my chest. I squirmed under his intensity, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of space between us... or rather, the lack of it.

"Do you mind?" I hissed. "You're supposed to be unconscious, not watching me."

I caught a glimpse of his pearly teeth. "Is this a push-up bra or a regular one?"

I smacked his hand away, tugging my strap out of sight. "Regular. Not that it's any of your busines."

"Good." He closed his eyes at last, sighing like he was at a spa instead of playing dead.

"You're taking forever. Move, I'll do it," Eliza ranted, shoving in to take over.

Cross's eyes snapped open. "Ms. Ken, Clara isn't

participating," he tattled.

Ms. Ken gave me one of her looks, sharp as a hawk. "Even in a three-person resuscitation, you must do your part Clara. Otherwise I'll dock points."

My jaw dropped. Are you kidding me? This was the least important part of the entire exercise! Biting my tongue, I shot Cross, a look that promised retribution. He merely smiled, gazing at me with half lidded eyes that showed he had me exactly where he wanted. By his head, Eliza's scowl deepened.

But I knew Cross's game. I've seen the trail of girls who swore they were different, who mistook his push-and-pull for something real, until he dropped them like cold leftovers. Yes, even with him 'choosing accordingly', even with them agreeing to 'no strings attached', they all eventually fell for his charms.

And now here I was, caught squarely in the middle of him proving to Eliza just how little she mattered to him. But she wouldn't see that. Currently I was just another girl stealing Cross's attention.

My fingers fumbled down his shirt, button by button, until the fabric parted at his midsection. I froze.

Fully bared under the fluorescent light, the sculpted lines of his abs were impossible to miss. Heat rushed to my cheeks. I quickly pulled my hands away.

Cross chuckled. "You have three more to go. But," with infuriating ease he undid them himself. "I'll play nice since you're blushing so cute."

Eliza scoffed. "Gosh, you act like a virgin."

I stayed carefully silent.

Her eyes narrowed before widening in true surprise.

"Wait you're an actual virgin?" She crowed, so loud that at this point she might as well have used a microphone. The entire classroom stopped to listen.

Their heads whipped in my direction, silently whispering. I couldn't possibly be the only virgin in this room. This wasn't even a secret I was ashamed of, but being put on display like this was uncomfortable.

"So what if I am?" I snapped back.

The whispers swelled, giddy and incredulous.

So she's a virgin!

I thought she lost it last year..

She didn't bang any of them?!

Eliza smile was satisfactory. The room buzzed with whispers, the word virgin ricocheting like a firecracker. Of course, they never expected it from me Clara James, supposed friends with Amy, and practically attached at the hip to the school's biggest playboys. In their shoes, I'd be surprised too.

But unlike most, I was a realist. I'd seen enough of their games to know better. Flirtation, charm, push-and-pull-it all worked because people believed they were special. I wasn't fooled. I knew exactly what stood on the other side of their attention.

But better they focused on this than the other truth: I haven't even had my first kiss. Sex was one thing, Not having a first kiss...that made me feel undesirable.

A gentle caress, tracing the red tinging my cheeks. Cross. "If you'd like, I could pop your cherry," he whispered sweetly. Then, puckering his lips, he squeezed my cheeks tight. "I promise to be gentle."

My blush deepened. His ice-blue eyes danced with amusement, drinking in my secret like he owned it. I glared back, but his delight was immovable, almost boyish in its satisfaction.

"When did you lose your virginity?" Eliza cut in, dragging his attention back to her. When he stayed silent, she leaned forward eagerly. "Last year?"

A stifled laugh came from across the room. Even from a distance, she was listening. Hilary. The school's biggest gossip. "Try way before that."

Where she got her sources from, no one knew. But if there was a person to not mess with it'd be her. She had dirt on everybody.

She was one of the friendlier cheerleaders, but that wouldn't fool me into thinking she was friend material. While I could easily read others, Hilary was not so simple. She played air-head, but I questioned that with the straight A's she got in every class.

Eliza's gasped. "With who?" she pressed, probably desperate to know the girl who held the privilege of being Cross's first.

With a sassy smile, Hilary tilted her head, savoring the moment like a cat toying with prey. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Cross stilled beneath me. "Hilary, shut up." His voice was so chilling I felt my spine straighten.

The effect was instant. Her smile fell and she looked away, ashamed. "Sorry." she muttered.

Cross grunted. The class noise swelled again. Ms. Ken passed out AED machines and explained its usage.

Unsettled, my eyes shifted from Cross to Hilary, who was immersed in dissecting the components within the kit. I opened the one beside me, Ms. Ken's voice fading into the background.

What just happened there? Who was this girl, and why did Cross prevent Hilary from saying her name? Cross's tone bothered me the most. It was so...unlike him. Not the easy, careless flirt who lets rumors bounce off him. This was darker, sensitive territory.

"...are you going to check for his pulse yet?" Eliza drew me from my thoughts.

Right.

The exercise started.

I pressed two fingers on his neck and waited.

"There's no pulse," I said, though his jugular pulsed steady beneath my touch.

I began fake chest compressions, willing my heart to stay calm as my palm laid flat against his warm, very-much-alive muscled abdomen. I counted out loud, stopping when I reached thirty.

I turned on the AED machine while Eliza went into her part: two breaths. Hesitating slightly, she discarded the mask in her hand and reached down to do mouth to mouth, but before she got far Cross caught her by the neck, squeezing ever so softly, bringing her down, with a smirk, then pushing her further off. Playful, yet punishing, like this was something they'd discussed earlier.

"Remember, princess," he murmured. His thumb brushed her lips. Tenderness mixed with ice. "I said no kissing today" his smile sharpened, cruel beneath the charm. "Play nice, and maybe later."

I winced from second-hand embarrassment, then shook my head. No. Not going to pity her. He's been this way since last year and she insists. I slapped the pads on Cross, making him grunt. I grinned. The gel coat was freezing cold.

"I don't mind you roleplaying as a nurse for your first time," he teased.

I ignored him and resumed chest compressions while the machine analyzed his rhythm. It was preset to a certain outcome for the sake of practice.

Shock advised.

"Everyone clear," I said.

Oh, what I'd give for the shock to be a real one. I'd have to settle for this.

Shock delivered.

"Time to Switch!" Ms. Ken directed.

Unwilling to be the victim, I witched with Eliza, who was more than willing to now have access to Cross's bare skin now that he would not allow her any lip action.

"Start!" Ms. Ken announced.

Unlike me, Eliza unzipped Cross's jeans to feel the pulse by his thigh. I gasped. She sure was daring, because although it was a pulse point, that was not the first choice for checking someone of Cross's size. Against my will, my eyes zeroed in on the silk boxers peeking out.

Of course, they were embellished with tiny playboy bunnies.

"The devil wears playboy boxers..." I muttered. "Why am I not surprised?"

Overhearing, Cross winked. Then, instead of pretending to be unconscious, he fixed his eyes on me.

"No pulse," Eliza declared, her hand lingering way beyond the allotted ten seconds in his pants.

She began compressions, arching her back once she realized Cross didn't have his eyes closed anymore.

Her breasts bounced with every fake compression, but surprisingly Cross never looked at her. His gaze remained pinned on me, unreadable. Maybe he was bored.

"..twenty-nine, thirty!"

As I reached for my mask, Cross caught my wrist. His voice dropped low, playful venom curling at the edges.

His voice dropped low, playful venom curling at the edges.

"Really, CJ? I didn't kiss anyone today. I left my lips untouched, just for you."

"How thoughtful," I deadpanned, proceeding to still place the mask over his nose and lips and giving two fake breaths. I didn't believe a word he said. He definitely kissed a girl today.

Meanwhile, Eliza's fists curled at her sides. If she didn't know before, she knew now. Cross was taunting her. Using me as a pawn in his twisted game, showing her exactly who controlled the rules.

The more she pushed, the further he'd pull away, because at the end of the day he called the shots in their 'arrangement'. And he'd use any girl, even me, to shove her back in place.

That's why I bet Amy for Cross's attention, not his love. No one could take a playboy's heart. That was only his to give. And knowing Cross, he'd never give it away. Not when he thrived on keeping it locked away.

As Eliza did another set of compressions, I absentmindedly played with his hair. It was soft and thick. He sighed into my touch, pressing closer like a spoiled dog. I indulged him. This was safe. This was enough.

Being Cross's friend, and nothing more.

The second I forgot who he was on the other side of romance, I'd lose. Today was not only a reminder for Eliza, but for me as well.

"...twenty-nine, thirty." Eliza finished, her voice

subdued.

I placed the mask on Cross, but on the second breath he blew it off, holding the back of my neck to avoid me from pulling away. His eyes bore into mine, dark and heavy.

"Just one kiss," he whispered.

"No." I covered his mouth with my hand and blew, the closest he'd ever get to a kiss from me.

When I pulled away, he held my wrist in place, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss in the center of my palm.

"How charming" I said dryly, though I let him keep it there.

Beneath my hand, I felt the curve of his smile. Warm breath ghosted my skin as he whispered what no one else in class heard.

“I want to be your first kiss.”

My heart stopped, then fluttered wildly.

How did he know?

I pulled my hand back as if burned. One thought screamed through me, louder than Ms. Ken's voice, louder than the classroom noise.

I must never fall for Cross, NEVER.