Page 38 of Sticks and Stones (Shadow Valley U)

Even if the enemy is having a nightmare. Or hyperventilating. Or looking at me with those big, panicked eyes…

I flop on my bed and cover my face with my hands.

Why was my first impulse…? Why did I have to kiss her? I could’ve slapped her, that might’ve done the same fucking thing.But with way less heat. I can still feel the ghost of her on my lips, the little breathy noise she made, the way she started backward when it seemed to register who she was making out with.

We used tongue.

That’s going to keep me fucked up for a long time.

I roll on my side and turn off my lamp.

Theonlysolution to this is to go radio silent. Or, as I overheard my step-monster whispering one night,stone-cold. She hated when I froze her out—which I did often. I hated her. I wanted her gone. She wasn’t a replacement for my mother, not evenclose. But she sure did try. So she got the cold shoulder, the icy, cutting remarks, and then…well, then I left for hockey camp. And that turned into hockey during the school year, which turned into the draft.

One more year of playing college hockey, and then I join the New York Guardians.

After tonight, I’m so fucking ready to get out of here.

CHAPTER15

WREN

The lackof sleep is catching up to me. I can’t decide what’s worse—exhaustion from refusing to close my eyes or exhaustion from waking up with a hoarse throat from the nightmares and running into Stone lurking in the hallway, which is a nightmare in itself.

The only thing that has been passed between us other than a fleeting glare is the water I placed on his table the other night when the guys came into the Shadow’s for dinner. I passed my table off to Nicki, refusing to wait on Stone even if the rest of my housemates weren’t on my shit list.

Stone is on board with acting like the kiss never happened. I have been pushing the thought of his lips on mine clear out of my head, and if it slips in, I remind myself of my scream-induced nightmare. I’m practically training my brain to recoil at the thought of his mouth.

His little wake-up call worked, though. Stone’s hot tongue against mine momentarily paused the bloodcurdling memories of the past, but the second I realized that I had fallen in another trap, I was even more ashamed. Stone kissing me felt like a punishment. A repentance for the past when I allowed my father to treat me like I was a piece of trash instead of his blood.

And if that wasn’t punishment enough, I’m sitting in the back row of a make-up class for an elective that I never wanted to take in the first place—Personal Finance.Thanks to overworking at Shadow’s and having non-stop nightmares, I accidentally slept in the other day and missed the test. Thankfully, Professor Walsh has some decency and has allowed me to take the test this morning instead of giving me an F.

If I were to lose my scholarship, I would truly be fucked.

At least with a chem degree, I have some hope in breaking the never-ending curse of being atrueDavis.

“Pencils down.”

Pencils clank against wood all throughout the lecture room. I finished my test twenty minutes ago but triple-checked my answers because I always triple-check them, even in a fruitless class likePersonal Finance.

“How’d you do?”

I turn and meet the face of a brown-eyed guy with a smirk that has trouble written all over it.

I shrug. “Pretty good, I think.”

The test was a breeze, especially when I am used to calculating complex reactions of substances and slaving over papers regarding what those substances may or may not produce when mixed.

“Good, good.”

I turn away and pack my things. One more class and a shift until I can head into my little Harry Potter closet and avoid probing questions from Evander and glares from Stone.

“I haven’t seen you in this class before. Have you been hiding back here this whole time? I usually sit up front, but I was late today, so I stayed back here.”

“Oh, no—”

Another voice interrupts my response. “She’s in the morning class.”

I squint at the guy to my left. A quick tremor of fear fuels my movements, and I fumble with my backpack. “How do you know my schedule?”