Foes & Cons by Carrie Aarons (i am malala young readers edition .txt) 📗

with a hot girl, but sometimes when it just falls into my lap, I’m almost turned off.

There is something about the chase, the fight, the tension, that makes sex and hooking up that much more satisfying.

Although, if I get with Hailey tonight, at least I’ll be able to claim a bedroom here rather than sleeping off my drunk haze in my car until the early hours of the morning when I’m sober enough to drive.

Hailey’s father is a successful surgeon at the university hospital two towns over, and it shows. The family not only have their mansion on ten acres on the outskirts of Chester, but they have this lake house. Which, to any normal person, is not a lake house at all. You might think of a log cabin with a path down to the lake, or some kayaks resting on a dock. Maybe if a family were really well off, they’d have jet skis on said dock.

But no, Hailey’s lake house is more like a resort. The main house is a miles-long ranch with windows on every side, log cabin features, and about twelve bedrooms. There is a dock right outside the back door, and a huge lakefront beach with every water toy imaginable tied up and waiting for some drunk teenager to break their neck on it. There is a horse barn on the property, along with two pools and a guesthouse almost bigger than my own house, which my dad designed from the ground up. It’s obnoxious, this “cabin,” but it makes for a secluded and kick-ass party spot.

“Who are you going for?” I ask, not wanting to address the Hailey thing.

“Her, duh.” Matthew hops down from his perch on the table, drunk on his first football victory of the season tonight.

There is a loud yell, and across the room I see a table of about a dozen people react to something. Looking closer, I see they’re playing flip cup. And one person in particular is more riled up than any other.

Blair. And Matt is pointing right at her.

“Not if I catch her first.” Glavin elbows him in the ribs.

“No.” My voice is grit and stone, and both of their heads swing to me.

“Come on, dude. You made her off-limits when she wasn’t this hot. Now that deal is off,” Matthew argues.

“I said no.” I glare at him.

“If you’re not going to tap that, one of us should,” Matt tries again.

“You’re pushing it.” I practically growl.

“There’s no reason she should even be off-limits, aside from that shit she pulled sophomore year. And come on, that’s weak, Roarke. So she dissed your kissing, get over it. Or try again. I’m sure you’ve improved since then.” Matt snorts.

They all think that was the reason I made Blair persona non grata, that it was because she embarrassed me. And that is partially the reason. But the even bigger reason is because if she doesn’t want me, if I can’t have her, then no one can. I don’t want to see her flirting with other guys, or hear about how she was falling in love. I don’t want to turn down a hall at school and see some asshole making out with her in front of her locker.

I want her to pay for not wanting me. For purposely pushing me away.

But my friends can think it was just about that one night two summers ago. They can think that’s the reason we’ve tormented her for so long. And I use it now to keep them from stalking across this party and doing what I want to do, but aren’t allowed.

“No, the reason she is off-limits is that she’s a fucking stuck-up nerd who needs to know her place,” I spit, and it’s total bullshit.

I’m pissed off at her, but not because of any of the lies I just told. I’m pissed off because I can’t be the guy sneakily leading her back to my truck tonight, and I can’t even admit that out loud.

I can’t help but watch Blair. She’s radiant, as if a glow is coming off of her and the entire party can’t resist it. She’s like Cinderella in that one scene where all eyes in the ballroom are on her. She’s unexpected, surprising everyone, and I can’t keep my goddamn eyes off her. I want to march across this room and throw her over my shoulder, caveman style. And I’m not sure if I want to take her into a bedroom and strip her naked, or scream at her for being here in the first place.

But whichever it is, my feet are moving of their own accord as I stomp across the party to confront her.

“Thought I told you to fall back.” I come up right behind her, trying to spook her, but she doesn’t flinch.

No, this petite hellion turns around and squares her shoulders at me. “And I thought people worried more about booze and hooking up at a party than torturing the girl they aren’t sleeping with, but that’s just me.”

Snickers rise up around her, and my cheeks burn with the loss. I can’t let her get any points against me.

“You’re not important enough to worry me, or even register as a blip on my radar. I am concerned about who is screening the invites to this party, because I wasn’t aware losers were invited.”

More chuckles around us, and Blair’s face falls for a millisecond before she recovers her grin.

“So I’m a loser. But I’m still here, and I’ve still managed to score a couple free drinks. So I guess that means I’m winning tonight.”

Blair licks her pointer finger and makes a motion as if she’s writing a number one in the air. Blair one, Sawyer zero, that’s what she’s trying to say. And it makes me even more furious.

But before I can put her in her place again, her best friend comes out of nowhere like a wasted tornado.

Laura runs up, and I can smell the vodka on her from a mile away. “B,