Chapter 18: CHAPTER 18

Amy stood frozen. Here eyes continuously flickered from bruise to bruise. Blinking slowly, as if by some miracle the apparition before her would go away and this would all be fake.

"Was he drunk?" she finally asked. If the conversation at lunch was any indication, Cross had never done this to any girl before, including her.

Privacy. A term not extended to me. Probably because unlike other girls, I would never mistake it for affection.

"He knew what he was doing," I said, reading the direction of her thoughts.

Cross had been in an influenced state. That being said, to only blame the alcohol didn't sit right with me. Not when he remembered everything and teased me all day. I'd caught the playboy's attention, she couldn't deny that.

Vexed fingers slammed the locker shut, the sound of clanging metal sharp against the quiet atmosphere.

"Let's raise the bet," she said coldly. "Whoever sleeps with him next."

I nearly choked. "Are you out of your mind!" The curious turn of a passing student's head reminded me to lower my voice. "I am not sleeping with a guy just to prove a point to you," I hissed.

"Fine. Whoever kisses him next. He hasn't kissed anyone this month."

"How do you even know that?!"

"I keep tabs on who he's with," she mentioned offhandedly, as if her behavior wasn't absolutely psychotic.

"No more bets," I said decidedly. "I got Cross's attention"

"It's because you know he wouldn't kiss you." Amy cut me off with an egotistical smile. "He never gave me a hickey, but he's kissed me."

I glowered. "If I wanted to, I could. At the party he asked me no, begged me to kiss him."

Her smile melted. "Are you going to let him?"

"Who knows," I said vaguely.

"I knew it, you do like him!" She flared with frustration. Then, turning inward, she began to pace, speaking to herself like an adult trying to sooth an anxious child.

"What does it matter. Him and I made love. That's more than he'll ever do with you."

I could see her mind whirling as she compared us. My experience with Cross. Her experience with Cross. What we did. What they have. And for a moment, it sparked an uncanny jealously that almost made me want to prove myself.

But no.

Games like these weren't meant for me. Knowing myself, I wouldn't be able to walk out unaffected. I desired true love, not meaningless conquest.

"Don't you remember what this was supposed to be about?"

And if I'm honest, my next words weren't just for her, but for me as well.

"Anyone can get Cross's attention if they try hard enough. Kiss him, sleep with him, whatever it is " I stepped closer, leveling her with a dispassionate gaze. "It doesn't actually make us special, does it? He is a playboy. He isn't ready for a relationship. He told me that himself. So you might as well stop seeing every girl as your competition when it comes to a guy who couldn't care less."

"He's not ready." she echoed, mulling the words carefully. "So...you're not going to kiss him, right?"

She was asking again, which meant it bothered her more than she let on. I shifted uncomfortably as she assessed me from head to toe, her countenance brimming with envy and competition.

Wanting to ease the tension, I told her, "Even if we did kiss it wouldn't mean anything. I'm not his type. He said that today too."

"Oh." One word, yet it carried so much relief. Her stance softened, and her scowl smoothed to a smile.

"This was a dare," I reminded her, parting my hair over the bruises once more.

Now pacified, Amy rummaged through her purse. "If you want you can borrow my concealer."

She handed me a compact tube. I thanked her and together we headed toward cheer practice. It felt strange.

One moment she was a raging bulldog, the next a docile pug.

"There was a party," Amy began as we walked. "Cross dared a girl to sit on his lap. The next day she wrote him a love letter confessing her feelings. After reading it he ripped it to shreds and threw it in the trash." Her gaze flickered toward me, gauging my reaction. I remained placid. "She thought a game meant something..maybe a chance to be with him. But it didn't. It just made her look pathetic."

I hadn't heard that story before, but it was easy to guess why Amy was telling me in the first place.

Don't make the same mistake. A casual warning while not-so-causally mentioning a dare Cross gave me in the game. If she was absurd enough to know the last time he kissed anyone, she definitely investigated everything that happened in that game.

"Sounds delusional." And it would be great if she could see how hypocritical she was in the first place to warn me of these things. Deciding to change the subject, I brought up the rumor. "I heard about James," I said, staying vague incase it was also a sore topic.

It wasn't.

"Oh, him? Like I said, he can do whatever he wants."

"Even screw another girl at a party you're in?"

"Yes," she replied, unbothered. "Makes it easier honestly."

I could hardly believe it. Cross giving me hickey riled her more than another girl sleeping with her boyfriend. I shook my head.

In the locker room I changed into shorts and a top. Midway, movement caught my eye...Rubi in a corner, sporting the most scandalous red lingerie.

Another girl circled around her, snapping photos at different angles as she slowly opened her locker and changed. She paused at certain movements, allowing a swift flash of light with the resounding click before continuing. The goal was to make the shots seem candid, not posed, but her arched back gave her away.

"Why on earth is she doing that?" I didn't need to point out who I was referring to, it was glaringly obvious.

Amy weaved her arms through a crop top. "That's what you do when you want a guy's attention but don't want to text him directly."

Despite her vagueness, I knew Rubi's target. She wanted David to see those photos. Problem is, it's not Rubi's pride that made her not want to. She literally couldn't. David blocked her. The other cheerleaders weren't aware of this, though.

"How is he supposed to see it if she doesn't text them?"

"You don't know about the exposure page?"

"The what?"

Amy unlocked her phone. With a few taps she pulled up a social media profile: TheExposure Vault. Posts upon posts of girls in our high school filled the feed, each dressed in extremely suggestive clothing pretending to have been "caught off guard". Some were obviously staged, like Rubi's shoot.

Unbelievable. "Isn't this illegal?"

Amy rolled her eyes. "It's not like we're naked."

We?

Sure enough, upon scrolling down there she was…Amy, on full display. The phone almost slipped through my fingers. If her mom found out, she'd lose her mind. How could they think this was okay?

"It's the same as wearing a bathing suit," Amy reasoned, not understanding my horror-filled expression.

"Who even runs this page?"

"Beats me. You just DM them your photos and if you're hot enough they post it." She smiled at herself on the locker mirror, clearly proud she was pretty enough to be on the page.

Disturbed, I checked the follower count. Several hundreds. Most of them teenage boys, of course. But there were older men amongst them too. Much older to be looking at girls that were eighteen and under.

I shivered. May that kind of desperation never overtake me.

On the search bar I hurriedly typed Cross's username, dread crawling up my spine.

Thank goodness.

He didn't follow. Neither did Theodore or David. It was relieving, and.. surprising. For boys who flirted so easily I half-expected worse.

"This is so dangerous. You've got perverts watching you and the guy you like might not even see it."

"They will." Amy assured, tying her hair into a sleek ponytail. "Some don't follow but it always reaches locker room talk. That's what matters. A guy naturally wants what others do too."

So even if David didn't follow, the pictures would still reach him through gossip, through whispers, and more importantly, through his teammates. What a roundabout way to get someone's attention. It was awful. Why put yourself out there in such a twisted way? If a guy likes you, they do. It shouldn't be this hard.

Practice went as expected. Routine drills, making a fool of myself during the dancing portion, while exceling on the flips. Although I did catch stares due to the hickeys, the attention on Jennifer superseded me. Being caught with a taken man while his girlfriend was in the house was far more scandalous. Gazes wavered between the two girls in search of budding drama, one which never bloomed.

In fact, Amy squashed it by treating Jennifer with unprecedented sweetness. Other than myself, I wasn't sure who else knew Amy was in an open relationship.

At dismissal I entered the locker room bathroom. The calming fragrance of lavender wrapped around me as I used wipes to clear off sweat. The door swung open at the entrance of another figure.

"Wow. Not one hickey, but three." Hilary's voice echoed in the empty bathroom. She stepped behind me, her eyes meeting mine in the mirrored reflection. Based on her expression, she was thoroughly impressed. "What do you think this means, Clara?"

"It means I'm never playing that game again." To further prove my point, I uncapped Amy's concealer and begin applying it to the marks. Might as well see if this thing works.

"I don't think he'd let you anyway." Hilary gently swept stray hair strands out of my way. "Not after knowing you find him attractive. You've caught his.. attention."

I squirmed at her choice of words. Silent alarms went off at her possibly knowing my bet with Amy, but I forced my index to continue applying the thick coverage. The bet was over anyway, what did it matter?

"For a night, yes. We're just friends." The need to add that disclaimer probably had a lot to do with the suggestive quirk on Hilary's lips.

"Sure. Just friends," she said, but her tone was one that communicated she wasn't buying it. Her smile screamed 'Do you think I was born yesterday?"

"You know Cross. He's all about hump and dump. I'm not his type."

"No, you're not," Hilary agreed, seemingly coming to terms with my point of view, until she added, "He'd be unable to do that second part with you." Then, seeing my finished result, she held her hand out.

"What brand is that concealer? It's really good." It was. The bruises vanished beneath the smooth texture, my skin looked untouched. I'd have to reapply after showering at home, but for now, it was perfect. Especially for hiding it from my mom.

"I meant to tell you," I said, passing Hilary the tube. "I didn't find anything during second period. No Cross, no mystery girl."

The halls had been startlingly empty. Hardly anyone wandered around that early. Most didn't get restless until fourth period where they'd start asking for bathroom passes to roam around.

Hilary snapped a photo of the concealer before returning it to me. "You give up too easily. You only looked one day. And after this" she said, eying the now hidden hickeys, "I'm not surprised he didn't do anything. Keep checking. Soon it will be time for goodbyes."

Hilary offered no further explanation, even when met with my confused expression. Much like at the party, she linked our arms and together we exited the locker room.

The smell of mud and grass met us as we stepped into the gym, now overtaken by football players fresh from practice, their laughter and shouts bouncing off the walls.

I scanned amongst the sweaty players, searching for one in particular, and when my eyes found him I nearly tripped when I realized his attention had been on me all along.

"Can you introduce me to Jacob?" I asked, trying to sound casual, but instead it came out timid.

With the way he made his interest obvious, I could go up to him myself. Still, I preferred someone be there with me. I also didn't want to ask one of the boys. Somehow, I knew they'd sabotage my dating life.

Hilary beamed as though I had granted her the title of cupid. "Yes, of course!" Then, turning to the boy in question, she raised her hand highly and waved him over. "Jacob! Come here! I want you to meet someone!"

My mouth dropped in horror. I expected her to tacitly join us. Instead, her call was so loud everyone in the gym heard it. Heads turned, curious at the interaction. Including two piercing blue eyes, storm-dark and dangerous as he glared with an emotion that only promised retribution.