Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: I'm the worst. It's okay, you can say it. But at least I come bearing gifts! I hope you all had a merry thanksgiving. Mine was spent watching Breaking Dawn in Valencia, black Friday shopping and eating a ridiculous amount of mash potatoes. All in all-no complaints. :)

If you read this and review-I'll be eternally grateful as well. And possibly give you a teaser of the next chapter as a pitiful attempt at an apology. READ: Apparently I'm not above buying reviews. ;)

keep it cool,

-S

Miss Imprint

Chapter 20: Afternoon Special

I pulled up outside of Marcus's house—the lights were flashing and I could smell the stale reek of booze from here. The door was open and there was loud bass that permeated through everything and bodies that writhed on the dance floor.

It was like that freaking house party in Clueless where Cher gets rescued by her knight in shinning armor—who also happens to be her step brother which is really totally weird.

Hello, incest.

I headed inside and saw him, his dark jeans sunk low on his hips and the muscles he'd probably spent the summer on stretching the blue shirt he was wearing. He was swaying, freaking swaying. And I knew that I'd timed this perfectly. He was almost out he was so drunk.

He saw me and stumbled over, an eyebrow cocked at the dress I was wearing. "You came." He slurred.

I shrugged. "Yeah—you okay with that?"

"You want a drink?" He asked in lieu of a response.

But I'm not an afternoon special, kids. I make all my decisions sober. And so I just pulled him over to me, pressing my lips hard against his.

He grinned wide. "Hell yeah."

"Just shut up and kiss me."

He lifted me up and pushed me against the wall, his lips moving harsh and forcefully. He tasted like cheap beer and pot and I had to force myself to keep going. I closed my eyes, pretending it was Seth—but there was no way to mistake his calm, control with the rough, unsteady hands of Marcus South. I grabbed his beer and placed it gingerly on the ground. "Let's go upstairs."

He led me, tripping and swaying, to his bedroom and shut the door. I forced myself not to panic when I heard the lock click behind him. It took everything in me not to call Seth and confess and have him race in. But I couldn't. I had to stay calm. It's the only way I would get through this.

Besides even if I called Seth—there was a good chance he wouldn't even answer the phone.

The knots in my stomach quadrupled.

Marcus slid down his jeans and I averted my eyes. I took a deep breath before raking my eyes up to his face, and walking over. I let the strap of my dress slide down my shoulder before I wrapped myself around him and traced a stiletto heel up his leg.

He grabbed me, his fingers wrapped tight enough to bruise and I had to clench my teeth together to stop myself from crying out in protest. What had been so amazing and incredible with Seth felt so base and humiliating here. But I had to seal my story.

Marcus shoved me onto the bed, his weight pressing me into the mattress and for a moment I felt my heart flip out as I realized how much bigger he was than me. If this didn't go exactly to plan I would lose a lot more than my dignity tonight. I tightened my grip on him so he wouldn't feel my hands tremble—but Marcus was so far gone that I had a feeling even telling him to stop wouldn't work.

I had to take control before he took it. I flipped us over and pressed down against him. He arched against me, groaning but he was still focused on me. I needed him to close his eyes—so I could start pretending that I was looking into sinful brown not the putrid green below me.

So I pushed against him again, building a rhythm and focusing on anything but what was pressing back. I could feel my skin rub raw against his rough jeans. I ran my hands down his sides, letting my blunt nails press into him and he tightened his grip.

"Fuck." He ground out and then his eyes rolled back and he passed out.

Thank god. I waited a breath but he was out cold.

I'd been planning on knocking him out myself. I giggled wildly for a second. Something in this whole crazy twist of fate was actual going right.

I pushed myself away, pointedly ignoring his lanky frame, stretched out on the bed. My legs were trembling but I couldn't stay there, I couldn't break down here.

I steadied myself against the wooden bed fame, but in my minds eye, it was Seth, his hands holding me upright, keeping me sane.

I slipped my underwear off and tucked it under him gently, before unzipping Marcus's pants, studiously avoiding contact with it.

And then I slipped out the door, my legs shivering and shaking as I stumbled down his staircase to my car.

I don't remember exactly how I got home that night but I remember ripping the sheets from my bed, unable to bear the thought of Marcus and his putrid, alcohol induced grip anywhere me.

Because even after what had just transpired, or maybe because it sickened me that this was who I'd become, this sad, pathetic shadow of what I'd been before, I couldn't bear the thought of associating it with Seth, with anything he had touched.

That would kill me—and not in the melodramatic adolescent way. It would killme.

And so I stepped into the shower, naked and freezing under the burning spray of the water and I pulled my knees into my chest, and I wept until my skin began to prune.


"Come on, like a band-aid, Cass," I muttered, my heart beating double time.

It was Monday. Seth never made it to school. And thankfully neither had Marcus. I rocked on my heels outside Seth's house, my hand poised on the knocker. Somehow I couldn't make myself grab inside me was telling me to run back, to break this date. That it would be easier to be surprised more than anything else. I didn't want to orchestrate this. That I'd rather the imprinting just happen to us-to me. But I knew Seth. I knew him better than anyone else-better even that whoever she was. I knew he'd never forgive himself if he did to me what Sam had done to Leah. It would destroy him. Because he was good and decent and he'd always been that way. Always blindingly optimistic. Always happy. And this imprinting would ruin all of that if I just let it happen. If he broke up with me before it happened then just maybe he'd still be him. And I'd still be me. And we could find a way to be friends in the end.

That's what really mattered, wasn't it? That's what Alice meant when she said it would be alright. We'd find a way back to ourselves, Seth and I.

The door opened with an aching creak.

"Seth!" I exclaimed, my heart rushing at the sight of him.

"Cassie?" He questioned thoughtfully. He was in a white undershirt, crinkled on one side like he had been sleeping on it and his hair was sleepily disheveled.

"I'm sorry." I blurted out before he could say anything else. "I was an idiot." The words were wooden and uncomfortable and from the way he was squinting at me, he didn't buy it. Heck, I didn't buy it.

The guilty heat of the hickey on my neck, courtesy of Marcus, burned beneath my silk scarf and I tugged at it self consciously. My throat was itchy. My eyes were nervous and wandering. I needed to get it together.

I straightened up. Time to sell it, Cassie. Breathe. "I was supposed to hear back from RISD last week..."I trialed off and then bounced nervously on the balls of my feet. Alice did that. I must have picked it up from her. "It was making me crazy." I whispered, biting my lip. "And I'm sorry. I took it out on you." Good it was becoming more convincing. I almost believed that. "But anyway, I got this about five minutes ago. And I realized how much of a loser I had been last week. And well... here." I thrust the acceptance letter into his hands and I watched as his face melted in his relief.

"Thank god," he muttered before pulling me towards him tightly. His hands rubbed circles into my back as he filtered his gratitude back through my skin. He believed me. And my heart broke.

"I'm so proud of you!" He exclaimed but he didn't even look at the paper. He was just tracing his eyes over my face and I had to bite my lip to keep from telling him everything. "So, we're okay?"

"We're fine." I lied, smiling as brightly as I could and hugged him again.

"We should celebrate?" He smiled, but he was hesitant. Like he thought he'd set me off somehow again without meaning to. I hated that. We'd never been anything but comfortable with each other and now it felt like he was walking on eggshells.

"Yes. Definitely." I kissed him lightly on the lips before retreating, hating myself for what was coming next. "Pete's? Eight o'clock?"

And I prayed with everything I had to any god that was listening that he would pick a different restaurant; that he would say we should just stay in, that he would turn me down. Anything.

But he just nodded, his grin blinding. "Perfect."