Chapter Seven:

Cherry Coke

Mike didn't spot her immediately upon leaving his house; that much was clear. She leaned against her car and waited, her heart pounding. He shoved his keys in his pocket and headed for the curb, thumbing through his phone and paying no attention to his surroundings. Frowning, she found she envied his ability to be oblivious. It felt like she was on high alert all the time, waiting for something to grab her out of nowhere.

Though she'd been there many times, now she felt out of place in front of the house he shared with his roommates just off campus. She fiddled nervously with the end of her braid and tried to stay calm. He wasn't going to be mad at her, after all. He couldn't be. He was clearly over the relationship himself, so a breakup could hardly come as a surprise. Finally she cleared her throat pointedly and he glanced up.

He stared at her blankly for a second, clearly shocked to see her, then covered it up with a wide smile. It was an infectious smile, his class president smile. The one that made Hannah fall head over heels for him. But now it just made Jess feel uncomfortable. It was a lie. She could see it in the way it didn't quite make it to his eyes. Mike strolled over to her. "And what did I do to deserve this awesome surprise?"

Okay, no. She wasn't going to do this. She wasn't going to make small talk or pretend like things were fine. Direct and honest, Jess, she told herself sharply. Like ripping off a bandage. "Mike, can we talk?"

"Of course."

"No, I mean… Somewhere a little more private than out on the sidewalk?"

His gaze dropped to his phone and then back to her. "Uh… Yeah. Definitely."

Mike was never very good at playing it cool when he felt awkward. She reached out and flicked her fingers against his sleeve, smiling as best she could. "You got a date you're late for?"

He blanched and shook his head quickly and rushed to reassure her. "Nothing like that, Jess. I swear, I—"

Privacy could go get fucked. She was so sick of the pity in his voice, that eagerness to convince her that he would take care of her every need. You didn't get to play at being Prince Charming while refusing to kiss the fucking princess. "Mike, I think we should break up."

If she had hit him in the face with a branch, he could not have looked more surprised. "What?"

"I told you I wanted to do this in private. But I guess you have somewhere to be and that's fine. I just figured I should do this face-to-face and not over the phone." Jess folded her arms over her chest and forced herself to keep her eyes up. She felt the ghost of Josh's lips on her throat and suppressed a shiver. Despite what had almost happened, this was the right thing to do. If she was honest with herself, she'd been thinking about this since she'd come back from the hospital. Mike still looked confused, staring at her as if he didn't recognize her. "I'm sorry. I know you tried. But I think we should call this what it is."

"But I—"

She didn't want to hear him profess love or try to convince her to stay with him. His handsome, familiar features seemed tired, now that she saw him in the bright light of the California sun. He seemed different than she remembered, and not just from the scars or missing fingers. There was a gravity to his movements, a heaviness, as if he was constantly bracing himself against some unseen potential threat. It probably wasn't that different than her urge to freeze in place. They all had their strange new burdens.

No confession of love came. Mike sighed and rubbed his hand over face. "Are you sure?" he asked finally.

"Yeah." Jess smiled again, with a bit more certainty this time. "Thanks again for, you know, saving my life? And for snowballs and… and everything."

He nodded tightly. "Yeah."

There was so much more she wanted to say, apologies she wanted to give and explanations for which she had no words. "I won't keep you. See you around, Mike."

Jess didn't wait, couldn't bear another second of awkward silence. It wasn't like she was saying goodbye forever, she told herself as she climbed back into her car. Just the end of a relationship. It wasn't her first breakup. She doubted it would be her last.

She hadn't been back to her dorm since she'd come back. The building was nearly deserted at 3 p.m. on a Thursday and she didn't see anyone she knew by name as she swiped her ID and headed inside. Though most of the freshman dorms were set up for roommates, she'd lucked into the one building that used to be graduate housing. It meant that the rooms were ruled too small for more than one occupant, which in turn meant that she didn't have to put up with a roommate.

It suited her well, since she'd never had to share a room with anyone before. The idea of bunking up with some random chick had been unappealing at best.

Her room had barely been touched since she'd gone up to Mount Washington. It looked like her parents had come by to get her laptop and a few other random sundries, but everything else was still in place. They hadn't even made her bed when they came by. Jess perched on the stiff twin mattress and looked around. She wasn't sure why she'd come here, except to have an alternative to going back home.

At the very least, she supposed, she could get some clothes that her mom hadn't picked. She stripped out of her jeans and tank top, shoving them into her backpack. It was hot down here. It was always hot. Jess yanked one of her favorite dresses out of the closet and slipped it over her head. She brushed out her hair and re-braided it, then rummaged in the top desk drawer for her makeup bag.

Every motion felt both pointless and oddly sacred, like she was putting on war paint.

As she stood in front of the mirror on the back of her door, she studied herself. She was thin, thinner than she'd been since quitting dance and ending her intense dieting practices. Any baby fat was gone, driven away by what she'd been through. She still looked like herself, for the most part. Her hair was sleek, her lips were shiny with gloss, her eyelashes thick and dark.

But the short hemline didn't just show off her legs. Now it also displayed long, angry-looking scars on her thighs. The top of the dress, with its thin straps and low neckline also showed the ones on her chest, just to the right of her sternum, and the ones marring her left shoulder. The ones on her stomach were hidden, at least.

Were they even called scars at this point? They weren't scabs any more, but they also weren't silvery or faded. Against her pale skin, they seemed even more noticeable. Maybe they would go away eventually and not turn into true scars at all.

Jess snorted. Sure. And pigs might fly and she might get a contract with Vogue and Emily might change her mind. As long as she was wallowing in delusion, she might as well go for it all the way.

Something buzzed. Fumbling in her backpack, she pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans. A text from her mom.

How late are you planning to be out?

Should we expect you for dinner?

She rolled her eyes. That was remarkably restrained. Maybe her parents had been picking up on her cabin fever or maybe they were just still in a remarkably forgiving mood. Either way, she shouldn't push it. Not if she wanted to keep her freedom as much as possible. That was the trick—you behaved when you didn't have anything better to do and then they wouldn't take it so hard when you tried something crazy.

Quickly, not giving herself time to think too hard about it, she grabbed other clothing items and thrust them into her bag. Hesitating only slightly, she rummaged in her nightstand and shoved the small box she found into the bag too. With one last glance in the mirror, she gritted her teeth, tossed the bag over her shoulder, and headed out the door. If seeing her injuries made other people flinch away, so much the better. She really didn't want to have to talk to anyone right now.

She put up with dinner, trying to eat as much of it as she could in the hopes that it might help her regain some of her lost weight. It was another point in the 'parent goodwill' column too; she could see her mother shooting smiles at her dad. Surprisingly, it didn't bother her. Let them be pleased she was eating as long as they didn't nag her about it or make smug comments about how glad they were that she was healing.

Finally free again, Jess collapsed on her bed, sprawling out and staring up at the greenish-white stars stuck in various spots. The fan was still going, sending cool evening air circulating through. It was nice to be in her own clothes again, picked out by her and not just be default from the stuff her parents had assembled.

The mattress was softer than the one at her dorm, the comforter her old familiar one from childhood. It was early still, but after the events of the day—and the night before—she was tired. Her head spun slightly as she shoved herself to her feet. She took her nightly routine slowly, washing her face and putting on lotion, brushing her teeth and changing into a nightshirt. She eased into the sheets with a sigh and shut her eyes.

And couldn't sleep.

"Fuck," she groaned, pressing her fists against her eyes. It just wasn't fair. She actually wanted to sleep and now she couldn't?

Every time she closed her eyes, something else popped into her head: Mike's face when he'd noticed she was there, the injuries marring her skin, the emptiness of her dorm room… the way Josh's fingers had gripped her hair, the feel of his teeth on her skin, the feel of him underneath her. Jess hadn't even realized her hands were skimming down her body, brushing along her stomach and the bones of her hips to…

"Fuck!" she snapped, yanking her hands up and shoving them under her pillow. "No. Nope. Nuh-uh."

She would just have to will herself to sleep.

-o-

[1:03 a.m.]

You up?

[1:14 a.m.]

I guess you're sleeping.

like sane people do.

or so I'm told

[1:22 a.m.]

Hve you seen the wraith?

Charlie Sheen tries to do horror. It's exactly the car wreck you'd expect.

Pun intended, since it's about street racing

the bad guy is the best actor

fun fact. He's also the guy who ended up directing the notebook

not that I've seen the notebook

obviously

[1:47 a.m.]

Anyway, you should see this some time

I bet you'd like it

[1:50 a.m.]

I have an idea btw

If you want to bust me out again some itme soon

*time

Jsyk

sleep tight

Several hours later, in the early morning light, Jess smiled softly at her phone and swiped her thumb around the screen. Then she shoved it under her pillow and rolled over to go back to sleep.

U should show me the movie.

I hope u got some sleep

just in case a lunatic kidnaps u 2nite

;-)

-o-

Jess stared at the messages. What the fuck had she been thinking? Suggesting that she was going to pick him up again and… do what? Whatever mystery plan he'd come up with? The last mystery plan of his that she'd heard of had involved entrails. It was dark and her parents were maybe an hour away from bed. Soon she'd be able to slip out and go get him. Unless she cancelled, that was. After all, what if his plan was something weird and crazy?

She shook her head hard, her braids flipping from side to side. She was being ridiculous. This was Josh. It wasn't like she was dating the Joker.

…not that she was dating Josh either. God, she couldn't even imagine what a disaster that would be. She just liked hanging out with someone who didn't treat her with kid gloves. It was really that simple.

Staring out the window at the dark, but still fairly busy street, she sighed. She wasn't going to cancel. Pretending she was seriously considering it was stupid. She might be lying to her parents, but lying to herself was pointless. Jess was a good liar, but she wasn't that good. Not enough to convince herself, especially about something dumb. A strange excitement was fizzing in her veins, too. She really wanted to know what he was planning.

What's your plan?

[…]

no spoilers!

Will you at least tell me what kind of shoes to wear?

…why?

Because some of my shoes are not great for hiking

Or running away from the cops

Stuff like that

Lol

no cops

probably

Not helpful, Joshua.

You'll be fine

just don't be braefoot and you'll be good

Not.

Helpful.

:P

Well, that was remarkably vague. Jess put on pajamas and kissed her parents goodnight. Once she heard nothing but silence in the house, she re-dressed. Pleased with her foresight the day before, she dug through her bag for more of her clothes from the dorm. Her favorite skirt was even shorter than the dress had been, but Josh could just deal with that. He knew she was scarred up. She pulled it on, followed by a lavender camisole and that lacy drape top that her mom had made her promise to always wear over something. Maybe it was silly to care so much about her clothing choices.

"Anything beats nothing," she muttered rifling through her closet for a sweatshirt in case it got chilly. It was true: any clothes she wore would beat what she'd been stuck wearing underground. But there was power in looking good and, even scarred and bony, she wasn't about to give up that power if she could help it.

Jess sighed, then carefully crouched down to dig under her bed until she found her old sneakers, cracked and worn and dirty. If it came to it, she could probably run from the police in them. She really hoped it wouldn't come to that, though.

She drove with extra caution, just in case.

U need me to come get u?

Or can u walk down to the car by urself?

I think ic an manage

I'm a big boy

"Ooookay," she said quickly, pointedly turning up the radio and forcing herself to hum along. No innuendos to read into there. At all. "Shit." She let her head fall forward to thunk against the wheel.

Josh pulled at the handle and she realized it was still locked. He shot her a dirty look as he finally slid into the passenger seat. "You want me to get caught?"

"Yeah," she said drily, rolling her eyes. "That was my goal this entire time. You have discovered my cunning and sneaky plot to get you in trouble with your parents." She watched him, her eyebrows raised, until he finally sighed and shrugged.

"Fine. Sorry. Just on edge. I'm not even supposed to be talking to people outside, much less staging repeat jailbreaks and going to—" He laughed and waved a hand dramatically. "Ah, but that would spoil the surprise."

She stuck her tongue out at him and put the car in gear. "You know you're going to have to tell me. I'm the driver."

"I shall grant you directions and you may follow them, peasant."

"Uh… you will tell me directions politely and stop acting like I'm your chauffeur. Also, call me peasant again and I will kick you in the balls." But she couldn't hold her angry face and giggled. "Where to?"

He read from his hand as they drove, squinting slightly at the smudged writing on his palm. Jess resisted the urge to point out that he could have used a piece of paper and simply followed along, trying to ignore the anticipatory buzzing in her chest. Finally she pulled off the highway and navigated down narrow Hollywood streets to pull up in front of a worn-down, decrepit building. "Uh… I don't think we should go in there. It doesn't look… open?"

"Fuck!" Josh growled, flipping off the darkened windows and the grey, unlit neon 'open' sign. "Fuck you, internet. Fuck you and fuck your mom and fuck your dog."

She giggled nervously. "Who is the internet's mom, exactly?"

Shrugging, he scowled at the building. "I don't know. There's probably some lady programmer who got screwed over by history though, right?"

"That does seem to be the pattern."

"Dammit! I looked it up and it said it would be open."

"What is it, exactly? This looks like a place you'd take someone to get them murdered." Jess narrowed her eyes and poked Josh hard in the arm. "This isn't a place you were taking me to get me murdered, right?"

Folding his arms over his chest, he slumped back in the seat. "Fuck," he muttered again. "Every time I try to plan something, it… fuck."

"But what is it, though?" she repeated, leaning across Josh to peer out at the building. It really didn't look like much.

"It's a record store. Internet said it was open late. I used to find all kinds of weird random crap there and I thought it would be cool to show you." His voice sounded strange, almost hoarse, and she glanced at him. She hadn't thought, when she had scooted over to look out his window, that she was going to be almost climbing into his lap. He was much closer than she'd realized. Josh's eyes dropped to her lips for a moment before he yanked his gaze away and jerked his shoulders in a frustrated shrug. "Whatever. It doesn't matter."

Jess sat back in the driver's seat and drummed her fingers lightly on the steering wheel, breathing as carefully as she could. Unbidden, the memory of his hands sliding up her denim-covered legs returned and she forced a nervous laugh. "Okay. So. Plan." Humming thoughtfully, she put the car into drive and pulled back into the street. It only took a minute before she spotted what she was looking for and, shooting Josh an impish smile, she went around the block and wedged her car into a narrow spot. "Come on."

He followed her onto the curb and down the street. It wasn't busy exactly, though there were cars going by and the occasional other pedestrian. Most of the businesses on the block were closed, metal grates pulled down over the shop fronts and the lights turned off. Here and there the odd late-night food place was still open, but that's not what Jess was after. Grabbing Josh's wrist, she drew him down an alleyway. It was lit enough to be deserted; no one wanted to camp out in a place they were so obvious. Big metal dumpsters were spaced at odd intervals. There was little smell from them too, Jess noticed gratefully. They must have just come by to empty them.

Together then passed through the alley and out onto the next street over. Jess grinned. "There we go! That's what I'm talking about." She caught Josh staring at her incredulously and laughed. "Oh, come on. You can't tell me it doesn't sound good right now."

Josh eyed the 7-11 and its blazing fluorescent lights apprehensively as they approached. "It depends on what you think sounds good. I have no interest in eating a hotdog that's been rotating in the same spot for the last nineteen hours."

"Ew. No, of course not. I want a slushy! Didn't you get those?"

"Yeah, but I guess—I'm just not sure why you're so excited."

She scoffed. "Uh, because they're awesome? Pure cold sugary awesome. The blue raspberry ones are the best."

They were out of blue raspberry syrup, so she settled on cherry. Beggars couldn't be choosers, right? Popping on the plastic lid and sliding the straw into place, Jess backed up and gestured for Josh to get one. For all his derision, she saw him smile as he pulled the handle and his cup filled with a swirling light brown concoction. He seemed relaxed, she noticed as she watched him. Largely turned away from her, it was easy to see the way his shoulders seemed lower and looser, his neck not as stiff.

It was good to see him out of those awful overalls, too. She hadn't been joking about it being a bad look. They hid his waist and did nothing but make him look saggy. Now, the chocolate brown Henley pulled tight across his shoulders and he looked…

Jess cleared her throat and took a big gulp of the fizzy, cherry-flavored ice. Again, with the distractions. God. She needed to figure something out soon, because this was getting ridiculous. She was a fucking idiot. That's all it was. A lonely, frustrated idiot. "Josh, I'm going to go pay. I'll meet you up front." She bought both the drinks and waved off Josh's attempt to give her cash. "My idea. My treat."

"I owe you one, then. Next one's on me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what exactly will the next one be?"

"It's a secret."

"Like the closed record store? I'm not sure I trust your secrets anymore. Next time I might end up in an abandoned building or something."

"It was a good idea!"

"I'm still not convinced that you weren't trying to murder me."

He groaned, throwing his free hand into the air and reeling backwards in overwrought frustration. "You are impossible, you know that?"

"Impossibly gorgeous, maybe." She shoved the door open with her hip and held it as he strolled out, sipping his drink. "See? Told you it would be good. The Coke ones are good too. That was what I always used to get in junior high. There was a 7-11 right by my bus stop."

"Tastes like diabetes."

Jess rolled her eyes. "If you didn't like it, you wouldn't drink it. You're more stubborn than I am. Which, delightfully, is how I know you're full of shit!" She smiled brightly at him and wandered down the street, savoring the overly-sweet chemical cherry flavor of her drink. The icy cold of it was nice. A car zoomed by and she heard a piercing whistle. Jess pursed her lips and flipped off the receding taillights.

"I figured you'd be used to that sort of thing," Josh commented.

"Whether I am or not, it's a shitty thing to do," she said, frowning at him. "It's super creepy."

He tipped his head to the side, slurping on his straw. "Why?"

"Seriously?"

"I mean, I don't do it. But I always thought it was kind of a compliment, right? They're saying you're hot."

"Oh my god." Jess stared at him. How could he have grown up with sisters and not realized what an unsettling thing it was. "No, okay, look. You're here. With me. And that's great. But just think for a second about how it would feel to be alone on a street—especially at night—and have some creeper in a raised truck honk at you." He was just watching her, drinking his slushy, so she continued, trying to articulate it. She'd never had to explain this sort of thing before. "Okay, at best, they're trying to say that they think I'm attractive. But even if so, what exactly does that imply? They're strangers. They're not trying to talk to me—most of the time, at least—and what am I supposed to think? What if they pulled over? What am I supposed to do?"

Frustrated, she sucked on her straw, trying to calm down. "I'm not explaining this well. Basically it's creepy because people are scary and you never know what they're going to do or how far they're going to take it. And, honestly, I can't believe that Beth and Hannah never talked about this."

The words were out before she could stop them and she braced herself, waiting for his reaction.

But Josh just shrugged, smiling a little. "Maybe they did, but not with me. I…" He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, glancing down at his feet. "I have a history of overreacting a little when it comes to them."

She snorted. That was the understatement of the year.

He seemed to realize what she was thinking of and looked pained. "Oh. I don't mean the thing at the lodge. Although, yeah, that's probably a pretty good example. I just do not have a good track record when it comes to finding out that they're—that they were—being bullied or harassed." Jess fought the urge to laugh again with limited success. He shot her a wry look. "I mean from before that. From before—" Before they died. She could hear the end of the sentence hanging in the air between them even as he broke off, looking away and taking another gulp.

This was insane. Her life was insane. How was she standing here, on some random street in L.A., drinking slushies and talking about catcalling and bullying dead girls with Josh Washington. In a strange way, it felt like it was all one long dream—from the moment she'd stepped off the bus at the base of the mountain until now. Maybe she'd died. She'd heard once that you could feel like you experienced an entire lifetime in the seconds after you died. Jess pinched herself, fingers cold from holding the drink, and winced again.

"What was that for?"

Jess flushed and took another determined sip of her drink. "Nothing. This just feels kind of surreal, you know? Like… Nevermind." She was just being melodramatic. That was all.

"Tell me."

"This. All of this. You, me… being here. I just…" It was one thing to be honest in the dark at the beach where she could hardly see him or online where she could think through her words before hitting the send button. This was harder. He was watching her and it was so hard to read his face. It always had been. She straightened and tried to find the right words. "I just keep feeling kind of numb, you know? Like none of this is really happening. Any of it. Not tonight, not this morning, not even coming off the mountain. Fuck, not even going to the mountain. The things that feel real in my head… they're all the things I'm not supposed to talk about. Like the broken glass from the cabin window or being in the mine. That's why I liked going to the beach the other night. It was undeniable. Like, there's no way I could have imagined it, right? It felt real. Physical evidence." She forced an awkward giggle. "See? That's why I said 'nevermind.' It's just dumb stuff."

Josh was looking out across the street, his eyes not focused on anything in particular. On the other side of the road, a group of girls were stumbling drunkenly along the sidewalk, laughing and talking. She watched them for a minute, envying their happy thoughtlessness. The slushy made a horrible noise as she sucked on the straw, but artificial flavor flooded her taste buds and helped loosen the knot in her chest.

She turned and headed towards the alleyway that would lead back to the car.

"It's not dumb." His voice was so quiet she almost missed it.

"What?"

"It isn't dumb," Josh repeated, coming up beside her and idly playing with the straw in his cup. "I— It isn't dumb."

Their footsteps seemed overly loud in the deserted alley. "Can I have a bit of yours?" she asked, trying to return the conversation somewhere easy. The cherry of her drink was good, but she wanted something different. "We can trade?"

They exchanged cups and she paused to take a taste. It almost made her wish she'd gotten that flavor instead. She closed her eyes and sucked on the straw, taking another, bigger sip. It reminded her of getting the dollar-sized ones in 8th grade, using her bus money to pay for them and then lying to the bus driver about forgetting the money at home. She'd always had a feeling he knew she was lying, but he never called her on it. She hummed appreciatively and opened her eyes, to find Josh staring at her, his dark eyes fixed on her mouth.

Color flooded her cheeks and she held the drink back out to him. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to drink so much."

He swallowed hard and shook his head. "No. No, that's fine."

She shook the cup, still holding it out towards him. "Josh, do you not—" Her eyes flicked down to the straw and then back to the strange look on his face and flushed even harder, her heart pounding. Oh. Slowly, watching him, she brought the cup back up and took a long sip, her lips wrapping around the straw. He swallowed again and frowned.

"You're doing that on purpose."

Heat curled low in her belly and she smiled, the corners of her lips quirking up. "Well, I wasn't before, but…"

Both cups hit the ground as Jess was suddenly pressed up against the building's wall. Josh's hands caught her wrists, pinning them to the dirty brick on either side of her head. "What are you doing?" Josh asked, his voice soft and slightly hoarse. He looked frustrated, his eyes shaded with something she was hesitant to name out of fear she might be wrong. "What are you doing, Jess?"

"What do you mean?" The words trembled only slightly. He was so close, his body only an inch from hers. She could feel the heat radiating off him.

"Why are you doing this? Why— Why would you—" Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and he groaned. "Stop that."

She huffed out a breath of laughter. "I'm not doing anything."

The sound he made was almost a growl as he pressed in, his grip on her wrists painful and his body crushing against hers. His lips hovered next to her ear. "Yes, you are. And you fucking know it. Stop. Unless you want—"

Her entire body was on fire. The brush of his breath on her ear, the press of his hands, his chest against her… she shuddered and bit down on her lip to stifle a moan. He growled in earnest, hips thrusting against hers, and she could feel him even through his jeans, hard and ready. "Josh…"

"Tell me to stop," he muttered, the words almost inaudible. "You should tell me to stop."

She shook her head as much as she could. "Don't stop."

Josh pulled back, his eyes boring into hers. "Do you want—"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"Are you sure—"

"Yes," she said as firmly as she could, holding his gaze. "Josh, please—"

Slowly, achingly slowly, he moved her arms over her head, pinning them in place with his left hand. His right hand trailed down, fingers smoothing over her hair and brushing along the side of her face. Jess bit her lip again, her eyes fluttering closed. He gripped her chin, lifting it. "Look at me."

She did, her head swimming. Josh was staring at her with surprise and something akin to wonder. "You trust me?"

Her skin, her entire body was humming. His hand slid down, tracing the line of her throat, the edge of her collarbone. Everywhere he touched was set ablaze. It was torture. It was superb, but it wasn't enough. Jess took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain her bearings. "Are you only going to tease me?" she asked. "Because if you're not up to it—"

Her words had the desired effect. His eyes narrowed and his lips caught hers, kissing her deeply. Unlike the night before, there was no hesitation; it felt like he wanted to devour her and god she was more than willing. "Keep your hands above your head," he said against her lips, and let go, both hands dropping to grip her hips and pull her closer, lifting her up. He was strong—stronger than she'd expected—and she let him lift her, wrapping her legs around his waist with a gasp.

Then his hand was between her thighs, his fingers sliding over the soft fabric of her panties. She felt him smirk against her mouth and nipped at his lower lip. Jess wasn't sure how he—oh—how he seemed to know just the right way to touch her. Maybe he was just good at reading her, gauging her reaction as he—the thought dissolved like smoke as he pulled her underwear roughly to the side and two fingers slid into her, his thumb pressing against the bundle of nerves that made her buck against him. "Oh fuck," she mumbled, her arms dropping down to drape over his shoulders, her fingers digging into his back.

His soft chuckle seemed to roll straight through her. "I thought I told you to keep your hands above your head?"

"They were—ah—getting tired." He raised his eyebrows and she tried to glare at him, before the insistent stroke of his fingers made her bite her lip to keep from moaning again. Suddenly desperate to be more than a passive participant, she slid one hand down his chest and up under the hem of his shirt. His body was fever-hot and she dragged her nails along the skin above the waistline of his jeans. "You really want me to put my hands back up? When I could do this instead?" She pressed her palm against the hard swell of his cock and his hips jerked, his breathing ragged.

His hand vanished, fingers sliding out of her and she almost cried out, begging him to come back. But he was pushing her hand out of the way and undoing his pants. "Jess, are you sure you want—" His eyes met hers and, again, her heart thudded painfully in her chest. Josh, so perfectly confident only a moment ago, suddenly seemed lost and more than a little uncertain.

"Do you?" She could feel him pressing into her slightly as he hesitated. They were in a public alleyway. The wall behind her was rough and cool and dug nearly painfully into her shoulders and back. Someone could come upon them at any moment and this was Josh. "Josh? Do you want this? Because… because I do. Please?" It came out more desperate than she'd planned, a needy plea.

Josh thrust into her and she cried out, her head falling back. He hissed, both hands grabbing her hips again and pulling her closer as he buried himself inside her. She couldn't think, couldn't even seem to breathe properly. Her legs tightened around him as she grabbed for his shoulders, clinging to him. "Oh god, Josh. Fuck. You're so—fuck." But just feeling him inside her, hard and hot and real, wasn't enough. She needed more. She needed to know that he—

Slowly, he pulled back and she whimpered. "Please, Josh. Please." Jess dragged her head back down to look at him; his eyes were watching her every reaction hungrily, his pupils huge and black.

"Please what? What do you want?"

She wanted to smack him, to shake him, to force him to stop playing games, but something in his voice stopped her. It was that same uncertainty from before. Her voice, when she spoke, was breathy and weak with want. "You. Josh, I want you. Please. God. Fuck me. Please." It might have made her blush if she didn't need him so desperately, but she didn't care.

He let out a long, unsteady breath. His hands tightened on her, holding her up and angling her simultaneously as he began to thrust in earnest, driving into her with hard, fast strokes that made her back arch and legs clench. She bit down on his shoulder to keep from making too much noise and heard him bite off a broken moan. Josh was so much more than she'd considered in her idle high school fantasies: stronger, bigger, and far more intense. Need spiked through her as she caught his pattern and moved with it, urging him on, deeper and harder. The roiling, exquisite pleasure building inside her was making it hard to think, hard to breathe. "Ah—oh fuck!" She clung to him, her nails digging into his back.

His hand clapped over her mouth just as it hit her like lightning, catching her scream and muffling it. Her body spasmed, clenching around him even as he continued to thrust into her. He dropped his hand from her face to pull her in and kiss her with bruising force. She wanted to feel him reach the end, to know he'd gone with her over the edge. His rhythm was breaking down, sending fresh, tantalizing waves of pleasure through her. Jess shuddered and moaned softly as he buried himself in her again, his body tensing and pulsing inside her.

"Oh fuck, Jess," he mumbled, his forehead dropping to rest against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, fingers burying themselves in his curls even as her body continued to tremble in the aftermath of what had happened. "Holy fuck."

She giggled. "So witty."

"Shut up."

"Never."

He raised his head and kissed her again, slow and sweet. After the urgency of what had come before, it seemed almost ridiculously gentle. "I didn't think—" Josh cleared his throat. "Can you stand?"

"I… I honestly don't know." She laughed again, breathlessly. "Let's find out."

Josh lowered her carefully and she leaned on the wall as her legs remembered how to hold her up properly. She found she was having trouble thinking of what to say. To cover the silence, she concentrated on trying to make herself look presentable again, tugging her skirt down and adjusting her shirt. From the corner of her eye, she saw Josh doing the same. She looked ruefully at the spilled slushies, now melted puddles of oddly colored goo. "So much for that, huh?"

"I'll buy you another one if you want." Josh shoved his hands in his pockets. He was tensing up again. She could see it in the set of his shoulders and the way he didn't seem to want to look at her. She poked him in the ribs, where he'd seemed ticklish at the beach, and was rewarded by him jumping and glaring at her. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Well, two things, really." She ticked them off on her fingers. "One: to prove that you are, in fact, ticklish. You are and I know it, which means you are thoroughly doomed. Two: You're brooding or whatever and I'm going to tell you right now that I don't want to see any of that when you just got laid. That's dumb." Jess snapped her fingers and pointed at him triumphantly. "Three! Three things! You did spill my drink and yes, you definitely do owe me a new one. So let's go."

He stared at her for a moment, then laughed, throwing his head back and laughing in a way she hadn't heard since back before that awful night when Hannah had run out into the snow.

The cashier at the 7-11 gave her an odd look when they walked in and she was fairly sure he could guess exactly what they had been up to, but she swirled cherry and Coke slushy together in her cup and decided that she didn't care in the slightest.