Chapter 13

"Ready?"

"I was born ready."

"I'm serious, Chris!"

"I know you're serious, that's why I'm joking, geez, don't get your panties in a twist!"

"I can't, I'm not wearing any," Mara replied, raising a brow and smirking. Chris' eyes switched between her eyes and her skirt several times and both his eyebrows shot up in pleasant surprise. "I'm kidding Chris, we're at school, of course I'm wearing underwear!"

"Way to crush a man's hopes, Mara," he groaned before reaching back to grab his backpack which rested on the back-seat of his Mercedes. "I should be the one asking if you're ready. You've been a ball of nerves since this morning, I swear if you faint on me-"

"I won't faint!" She shoved him in the shoulder to get her point across though it seemed to have the reverse effect.

"It's going to be fine," he reassured her. "You'll make lots of jealous!" Chris winked at her and opened the door to exit the car.

Mara followed him out before asking, "Why would I make people jealous? If anyone should be envied today it's you! You've caught the most prized of all Nissen girls in your nets," she said with a bright smile.

"Shut up or your head won't fit through the door," he warned her.

Her jaw fell open and after she reminded him that he was in no position to tell her that given the gigantic size of his ego, Chris threw his arm over her shoulders and began to walk toward the school's gates. However Mara shrugged it off before they reached them.

"Not yet," she said. "No need to add up to our dramatic entrance."

Something akin to perplexity crossed his features, but it vanished before Mara could determine what it really was. He understood her hesitation to throw their relationship out in the wild a couple days after they came clean to William. He might see it as a way of rubbing it in his face and that was the last thing they wanted. Not to mention that they still both sported a black eye and other various facial bruises – which was enough to make hundreds of different rumours erupt in the school before noon. Nissen was a gossip mill. People were used to seeing them hang out with each other, which gave them a bit of time before everyone realised that it wasn't so platonic anymore, though it was bound to happen. But Chris and Mara would not blow on the red embers of gossip.

Sure enough, whispers greeted them and people looked at them with shock and concern when they stepped through the gates, looking like they had undergone a severe beat up. Which they did but they should see the other guys.

"What?!" Chris barked at a group of boys from first year that openly ogled them when they walked past them.

"Since when do girls participate in the riot club's fights?" One of them snickered.

He wore a beanie from under which curly brown hair peeked out. The remark was most likely not meant to be offensive, but Mara was on edge and she didn't exactly like having a black eye.

"Since they can kick ass just as good as any boy," Mara huffed, shooting him a nasty glare. "Need me do demonstrate?"

"No, Jonas was just joking," another one said with a nervous laughter, looking panicked at the thought of provoking the school's princess and the Penetrators' protégée.

"I bet he was," Chris simply said, his tone leaving no doubt as to the fact that he wasn't convinced at all. "We don't endanger our girls, the Yakuza guys jumped us on the street."

With that, they walked away, still putting a polite distance between them since the attention of the entire Nissen population was onto them. It was a heartbreak to still have to act so distant after what they have been through. But among all the eyes directed at them were also William's, who was leaning against the wall nearby the front door, surrounded by his friends.

"Why did you tell them?" Mara asked. "They didn't even ask in the first place."

"I know, but at least this way we might cut short to the apparition of nasty rumours and go straight for the true rumour," he explained.

"Who knows, maybe William will change his mind if everyone starts talking about how we nearly ended up at the hospital because of those Yakuza jerks," she sighed, not knowing who she was trying to convince. "Come, we have to say hi."

"Of course we'll say hi, I won't stop being a Penetrator just because your brother flipped at us," he snorted, heading for the group of boys. "If he thinks he can get rid of me by giving me the stink eye from afar, he's gravely mistaken. I'm just as important as him in the group."

"It's not a question of importance, it's friendship," Mara pointed out. "Look at the way they stare at us. Do you think he has outted us?"

That would be a petty move, even coming from her manipulator brother. The Magnussons didn't go for one another's throat, it was a tacit rule between them. It was a relief when Chris began to greet his friends with a pat on the shoulder and they started questioning them about their battered faces. Obviously William didn't tell on them. Although they were still mad at each other Mara shot him a thankful glance, and he simply looked away.

000

Boys – most of them that is – were generally rather oblivious to anything they didn't want to see. Was that a condition? Something like selective awareness? Probably not, but it was still a real thing in Mara's mind. Most of the Penetrators disregarded the blatant hostility that made the air electric between Chris and William, but there came a certain point where this selective awareness became downright blindness, and even the most stubborn of them acknowledged that there was something wrong. They knew better than to ask questions but when people started talking and Mara and Christoffer's public, though discrete, displays of affection reached their ears, they easily put two and two together.

Surprisingly, a good deal of them congratulated Chris instead of being mad at him for breaking the rule – a rule that some of them would have liked to break themselves according to the looks they gave Mara. Chris was mostly happy about the situation – at least that's what he told her – and whenever he caught one of the guys looking his girlfriend up and down, he simply gave him a warning glare, followed by a possessive glance to Mara, who smiled to herself when she saw this silent exchange.

At home it was drastically different though. By 'home' Mara meant in privacy. She went back to the apartment once every two days, because it was her apartment too for fuck's sake! Which allowed her to get new clothes to change into and it also forced William to spend a minimum time with her. Sometimes, when they were both sitting at the far ends of the couch, sulking in tense silence, it felt like he was about to say something - like his intention to speak was making the air sizzle. Except that he never said anything. She understood that she lied to him and that it felt like an unforgivable betrayal to him, because the two people he trust most have gone and dated behind his back for months, but did it justify this behaviour?

She had no idea how she would feel if she were in his shoes.

"Will?" She had called his name softly on numerous occasion but she was met with a wall of silence each and every time. "I'm sorry."

That was usually it. Mara would leave before the tension in the room broke her walls down and made her spill the tears she has been holding back since their huge fight.

When she came back to Chris' house she was a mess, and he had to put back together her broken pieces. Still, she was doing at lot better than him – at least deep down. Christoffer was used to pull a façade of confidence at all times, and this was no different from the time his parents sent him a birthday card on the wrong date. He would be the strong one, he had to be the strong one.

Behind the silly jokes, and under the thick layer of sarcasm and sexual innuendos he made all day long, was a boy longing for his best friend. Mara suspected he was just trying to appear tough and that he was deeply affected by the current situation. She knew he still couldn't sleep well. Day after day she saw the circles under his eyes grow darker. She was no better really, all she seemed to do was sleep, as if by some miracle she would wake up and find that everything was back to how it should be, and not this unspeakable mess.

Communication is key, they say. Mara and Chris continued to use their silent way to communicate. A glance, a smile, an eye roll, or the lack thereof spoke volumes. Chris wasn't good with words, he was good at showing. And Mara was observant, she didn't need to hear him say he was feeling miserable because it was blatantly obvious, to the point where it hurt her. Whenever she caught a glimpse of Chris when his guard was down, her heart clenched a little bit, and she felt awfully responsible. She was the cause for all this mess, she started it.

Therefore, she had to make it better, using whatever means necessary.

"I want cake."

It was the first thing Chris said this afternoon. Mara came back from one of her visits to William, and he was slouched on his couch, his eyes fixated on something far behind the TV though his hand continued to zap from one channel to another.

"Let's bake one," he suggested.

"What kind of cake?" Mara asked.

"Well depends, do you have a personal preference?" He asked, shifting his attention from the wall to her.

"I do, but I don't know how to bake it," she said, walking closer to the couch. She reached her hand out for him to take and help him up, but instead, Chris grabbed it and pulled her down on him. Mara gasped and tried to soften the blow for Chris by rolling next to him.

"No, come here," he demanded, picking her up and lying her on his body, cradling her head against his chest and massaging the back of her neck in this mindless, almost instinctive manner that never failed to make her feel safe and giddy inside. "I'm a chef, I'll figure out how to bake your cake. What is it?"

"A lemon drizzle cake," she laughed, raising her head to place a kiss on his lips. Chris looked utterly exhausted.

"Why this cake?" He inquired.

"I found a lovely place down town that makes these bite sized English desserts and this one is my favourite," she answered, letting her hand rest flat against Chris' chest, feeling the reassuring thump thump thump of his heart in the palm of her hand.

Not even a second later, Chris had swooped her up in his arms and carried her to the kitchen under her vehement protests which she only vociferated out of pure formality. A few Google links for recipes and broken eggs later, the cake was in the oven, and the kitchen was a mess. Mara stuck to what she knew how to do and whisked the eggs white until they formed a peak, and grated the lemons while Chris did the actual measuring and baking part.

"See? We did it. Easy peasy," he said, as though the entire kitchen wasn't a war zone.

"Never doubted your mad cooking skills," Mara laughed, jumping on a relatively clean spot on the counter.

Chris placed himself between her legs as per usual – there truly wasn't any other place on earth he liked to be more. When he began to kiss her, his hands sneaking behind Mara to grab her bum, she moaned softly in the kiss.

"What are you doing?" He asked after pulling back. Both her hands were raised in the air, refusing to touch him.

"My hands are full of dough!" She protested, her smile never wavering.

"Do I look like I give a fuck?" He asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "We have thirty minutes to make out and take a shower before the cake's ready."

"You really have a knack for taking showers with me, do you? It is your kink? Wet, hot, shower sex?"

"Don't use words like that Mara, you have no idea what you do to me," he groaned, hooking his hands under her thighs and securing them around his hips. "Now put your fucking hands on me. Shower sex is not a kink. I'm thinking about the planet. We're saving water."

"You're making a compelling argument," she said as she nodded sternly – or at least, she tried to look serious.

He saw right through her and leaned in again, claiming the well deserved kiss he earned after this chaotic baking session. Mara complied and kissed back, her hands mindlessly tugging at his shirt to make him understand she wanted it off. Chris gave her a boyish grin and gladly complied, before lifting her up and from the counter and carrying her to the bathroom, leaving his shirt on the dirty kitchen floor.

It wasn't as languid as per usual, and while Mara's back was pressed against the hard tiles of the shower walls, she thought that maybe he was fucking her because it helped him exorcise his pain. Christoffer Schistad was aching all over because for the first time in his life, he simply couldn't have it all. It tore him apart to know that being with the two people he was the closest with, his best friend, and his other best friend and girlfriend, suddenly became mutually exclusive. Mara saw it in the glimmer in his eyes when he dived them in her as she bit her lip to stifle a moan caused by his caresses. She heard it in the way he talked, she felt it in the way he touched her. He could act tough and detached, but he couldn't lie to her.

Only to himself.