As I drove to school that Monday morning, something knotted itself in my stomach. Something gross and unfamiliar that wore enough on my face for Chris to shoot me a look as we parked in the student lot.

"If you faint, I'm leaving you out here." He nudged me with a chuckle, but it felt like my head was in a fishbowl, and he sounded far, far away.

I waved him off. "I'm fine, I'm just tired."

Even though I slept in late this morning, leaving no time for me to fix my hair or attempt to put on a tie. Rochelle had gone to school early to set up for some bake sale for the senior cheerleaders to fund their trip to Disney. I'd only heard every other word from her when she was explaining it at brunch yesterday, but I did know there'd be a tray of brownies waiting for me, and I could only hope spiking my blood sugar this early in the morning would stop the sickening faintness I felt.

As we walked through the hallways, I was far too aware of people as they pinned their glares on me. Apparently there hadn't been enough drama over the weekend to overcast our little debacle at homecoming, and judging by the searing way people looked at me, I had been pegged as the big bad wolf. I'd huff and I'd puff, but somehow my house was the one about to get burned down.

"Don't worry," Chris put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sure it'll blow over by the end of this week. Someone is bound to do something more stupid to get everyone's attention."

I shrugged him off of me. "I just think it's weird that nobody's saying shit about Jordyn, and she was the one who confronted Kaia in the first place."

"Come on man, think about what they teach us in practice about fighting with the other team. Nobody ever sees who throws the first punch, only the second."

I wrung my hands together. "But I didn't do anything."

"I think that's the problem," Chris shrugged. "Kaia storms off and you do nothing except stand there like an idiot with your crown up your ass. People are gonna talk, and they're gonna assume things."

I groaned and rubbed the side of my face. "This is so dumb," I muttered.

"Listen, don't stress," Chris insisted. "People will quickly remember that you're you, and they'll get over it. Okay?"

"Okay, okay." I held my hands up in defense, prompting a toothy grin from Chris. He gave me one more pat on the shoulder before tapering off down another hallway and disappearing into a sea of students. I shuffled to my locker to unload some of my afternoon books, and despite the swirling hum of kids talking and lockers slamming and shoes squeaking on the floor, the rattling of the pill bottle at the bottom of my bag transcended all the other sounds.

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure there were no more lingering stares before reaching down and pulling the bottle out. The label was torn on the corners and faded, but I could still make out GUNTHER, MEREDITH. PERCOCET 5 mg/325 mg. And below it, Take 1 tablet every 6 hours as needed. Do not exceed 12 tablets in 24 hours.

I worked my jaw as I clenched the bottle in my fist. I shouldn't have felt so guilty taking it from her medicine cabinet this morning. I was only looking for my comb, and after all, my mother hadn't needed them for months. She wouldn't miss them. But the dull, throbbing, aching sensation that pulsed through my body like sonar after every practice, every game, every morning when I woke up  - that was need. I needed them. Or I could kiss Clemson football goodbye.

Before my brain could talk my body out of it, I quickly spilled two little pink pills into my hand and swallowed them back dry. There was a lull, as if time seemed to slow almost to a stop, but only inside my body. The world outside spun on.

A text message made my phone buzz, startling me and making me nearly drop it.

ROCHELLE EVANS: cannot protect your brownies for much longer. bitches love double fudge

I slammed my locker shut and made my way down to the cafeteria that anchored one end of the school, where kids with a free first period tended to congregate in the mornings with their cliques and clubs. Everything from band kids to French club to the track and field runners staked a claim on one of the thick wooden tables, and if you wanted a glimpse under a microscope at the social structure of the school, here was a good place to start. Light spilled in through the skylights, sending daggers of sun across the polished floor. They even served breakfast until 9:30.

In the back corner under a large open window, the senior cheerleaders posted up at their usual table, with an array of baked goods in front of them. Even though her back was to me, I instantly recognized Kennedy and her wild dark head of hair. But that wasn't even the dead giveaway - it was the way a coy smirk curled up Rochelle's lips as they spoke, almost enough to meet the flirtatious twinkling in her eyes.

All the cheerleaders wore their matching black windbreakers over their school uniforms, and when I walked over to them, they all looked up at me like I'd hung the sun.

"Hey Dallas," came a synchronized chime from Denise Conrad and Kira Song, but I ignored them.

"Kennedy." I greeted her with a curt nod.

"Dallas," she replied, equally as brusque.

As the silence between us lingered, so did the conversation we shared at the diner, and all it's subtle implications threatened to bubble up. Kennedy finally surrendered.

"I'll see you later, Ro."

She made sure to pointedly direct Ro at me before sauntering off. As soon as she was out of earshot, I turned back to Rochelle and snickered.

"What the hell was that all about?"

"What was what about?" Rochelle kept her head down, but the flaming red in her ears as she tucked her hair behind them was more than apparent.

"How does that Drake song go?" I tapped my fingers to my chin. "Cause she got me in my feelings..."

Rochelle groaned. "If I give you brownies, will you stop psychoanalyzing the way I talk to girls?"

She produced a plastic container from her bag on the table, and I immediately ripped it open and housed two brownies.

She raised an eyebrow at me. "Little early for Ghirardelli, isn't it?"

"Shut up," I grumbled with my mouth full. "I feel like I'm gonna pass out, I just need some sugar."

"In more ways than one, apparently."

I tucked the plastic container under one arm before backing away and flipping her off with a grin.

"You owe me $10 for those!" she called after me.

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Rochelle wasn't entirely off base about my need for something sweet, and that was made more than apparent as Jordyn left remnants of her vanilla cake smelling lipgloss on my lip as she kissed me. I was buzzed, and I kept telling myself it was just a sugar high.

She had me pushed up against a shelf in the back alcove of the library, seemingly secluded in the speculative science fiction section. Her hands were in my hair, and my hands were up her sweater.

"Oh Dallas," she moaned softly as I brought my lips to her neck.

"Shhh," I put my finger to her lips and grinned. "This is a library, ya know. You're supposed to be quiet."

I felt her tongue graze the tip of my finger. "Then make me."

We kissed again, our bodies a tangled mess of limbs as we fumbled with buttons and buckles. The process of being quiet and discreet was second nature to us by now, but that didn't stop the buzz that came with the prospect of getting caught. Risk was always a little bit of a turn on.

"We haven't done this in a while," Jordyn sighed as she leaned forward on her toes to wrap her arms around my neck.

"What?" I fixed her an amused smirk. "Hooking up in the corner of the library during study period?"

She pouted, with only a thin layer of gloss left shimmering on her lips. "Well yeah, or like this in general."

I leaned back onto the shelf and thought on it. We'd done nothing but fight at the last two parties, and I was far too busy to make random house calls, despite the fact that she lived 20 feet away from me.

"I guess," I shrugged.

She smiled up at me, and even in our dim little corner her crystal clear eyes were filled with stars. "Well, I'm glad we're back to normal, it feels good."

Without taking her eyes away from mine, she reached down and slipped her hand down the front of my unbuttoned pants. "You feel good."

I had to bite down on my lip to avoid making a sound we'd both regret. I brought my mouth back to her neck and buried myself in her crisp, clean scent. I let my hands roam her body, latching myself onto anything I thought would get me off quicker.

I didn't know what possessed me to look up at that exact moment. I still had my lips to Jordyn's neck, but I glanced up as a flash of something moved in my peripheral. A silhouette of a person.

Despite the hammering in my chest, I tried to unwind myself from Jordyn as slowly and methodically as possible. There was movement behind the shelf to our right again, and when they stepped out into the aisle and into my line of sight, it wasn't just a silhouette. It was Kaia.

It was like driving by a car crash - you just couldn't look away, no matter how much it twisted you up inside. I half expected her to go scurrying off to rat us out, or whatever maddening way she could think of to get back at me for being me.

But she didn't. She just stood there, staring at me with wide, glassy eyes like I had blood on my hands. Her blood.

Jordyn's hands were still down my pants. I jerked away quickly and thumped my head on one of the shelves, sending two thick Lovecraft books to the ground with a loud bang.

"Fucking shit," I yelped. I looked up again with bleary eyes, and Kaia was gone.

Jordyn pulled away, straightening her sweater and pulling at the ruffled hem of her skirt.

"What happened?" She stepped toward me again and put her hand to a bruise that was quickly forming on my temple. I cringed.

"Stop, stop," I pushed her hands away. "It's fine, just-"

"What's going on back here?"

Mrs. Fletcher, the squeaky little librarian, poked her head around the bookshelves that closed us into our alcove. With hot, flushed cheeks, Jordyn and I jumped away from each other, like two negative magnets.

"Nothing." I put on my best Valedictorian smile and bent down to pick up Lovecraft's Necronomicon. "Jordyn was looking for this. It was pretty high up there so I grabbed it for her and...I dropped it."

I shoved the book into Jordyn's hands, and she gave me a sideways glare.

"Very well," Mrs. Fletcher nodded. "See to it that you're both on time for your next class."

She gave us one more glance over before leaving the alcove, and I wasn't sure if she was just blind or willingly ignorant to my untucked, wrinkled shirt. If I had to bet money on it, I'd say it was the latter.

Jordyn audibly sighed once Mrs. Fletcher was gone. "I'm convinced you could get away with murder at this school."

Something about the look in Kaia's eyes told me I already had.

lover come hold me
heads on the fritz
gaudy intoxicated feelings comfortably mixed

cringe / matt maeson

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i've yet to decide if it's alarming or good that i've generally had nothing to say in my authors notes lately. anyway today i turned 29 and writing this story makes me want to be a teenager again

just love me and love dallas. thx xoxo

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