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

he did the same to me, he would have wounded me beyond repair?

If I had fallen in love with Sawyer, and then he eventually ended whatever was between us, I wouldn’t have recovered. And that was what inevitably would have happened. I just made the move before he could.

“You’re right, I do hate you. Don’t forget that.”

Those words sting like a bitch, like an iron on my skin that leaves a brand.

Sawyer pulls the truck to a stop, and we just stare at each other. A jolt of electricity seems to hit the car, crackling between us until I’m not sure whether it’s hate or intense lust floating through the air. I’m not sure if he’s about to verbally dismantle me again, or kiss the living daylights out of me. And I’m not quite sure which I’d prefer.

I have to be the one to look away first, securing that tiniest bit of power. That’s what this is between us; the ultimate power struggle each time we interact. Who cares less, who cares more, who can wound more severely.

Though it’s difficult, I move my chin until my eyes aren’t gazing into his, but at the road in front of us. The alcohol and tension must be clouding my brain, because the fifteen-minute drive home felt like two seconds.

There are at least two blocks left before my house. He dislikes me so much that he’s going to make me walk home in the pitch dark, but that shouldn’t surprise me.

Neither of us says another word as I wrench open the door and hop out, the night swallowing me as all of the unanswered questions left between us still linger in the cab of his truck.

8 Sawyer

“No, dude, you have to put the chips between the mayo and the cheese, not on the meat.”

As I take the first bite of my lunch, my friends are busy arguing over the correct layering of a sandwich.

Glavin demonstrates the proper way to put together a turkey sandwich, and by the time he’s done, it looks like the thing should be something Guy Fieri is trying on Diners, Drive-ins and Dives.

“I don’t even know why we’re eating lunch here. The whole point of being a senior is so you can go off campus during this period. I really wanted a slice of pizza,” Matthew says begrudgingly, eating his own mediocre ham and cheese.

“We’re here because I need a date to homecoming and want to scope out the prospective fresh meat.” My best friend rubs his hands together.

I roll my eyes. “That’s why I’m sitting in this fucking cafeteria? You asshole. You could have just macked on one at her locker and been done with it.”

He shrugs, his eyes lingering over the long tables full of underclassmen girls. “Yeah, but what would be the fun of that? Here, I can put on a show. Besides, what do you care? Hailey has all but spoken for you.”

Annoyance flits at my temples like a gnat. “I haven’t even asked her, I don’t know why she’s going around spreading that shit.”

Truth is, I have no desire to take a date to homecoming. I’m an eighteen-year-old male, there is no way I’m tying myself to one girl when I can swap grinding partners the entire night. Hailey isn’t my girlfriend, I’m not shelling out for flowers, and I’m not ending the night with some promise of more in our future.

“Who are you taking?” I ask Matt.

He’s busy texting under the table, though no teacher would ever dare take the cell phone from our star quarterback. They probably wouldn’t take mine either, or I’d be able to charm my way out of it. Unfortunately, the jock stereotype and favoritism of the popular crowd is one hundred percent accurate at Chester High School.

“What?” He barely glances up.

“Who are you asking to homecoming? Or are we flying solo together?”

Matt shoots his head up, clearly done with whatever he’s doing on his phone. “I’m going to ask Blair.”

I nearly choke on the sip of Gatorade I just took. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, fuck off about your vendetta. It’s so old. And she got really damn hot. So I’m going for it.”

“The hell you are.” I set my roast beef sandwich down with authority.

“She’s fair game! And she’s currently the hottest chick in the senior class. Since I’m the hottest guy, it only makes sense.”

Glavin chimes in, “Hey, I don’t know about that now …”

“Blair is off-limits. And she’s weird, you don’t even want her. You only think so because it’s … because it’s odd or a challenge or some shit.”

I’m barely keeping my temper in check, especially because Matt challenged me on this at the party the other night. And the two of them could barely stop bugging me when we met up to throw a football around on Sunday afternoon in the park. They wanted to know if I’ve seen her tits, when I was only trying to explain how much I despise her.

What happened after I left the party wasn’t a discussion I wanted to have with my friends, partly because I still don’t even know how I feel about it. I so badly wanted to throttle Blair for what she’d done to my truck, and the next minute, I wanted to pull over on the side of the road and haul her into the back seat. It’s the age-old problem I’ve always had when it comes to her; there are just too many mixed emotions. I don’t know which way is up when it comes to Blair Oden, and it leads me to do irrational things.

Like right now, when I’m about to get into a fight with my best friend. It’s like Matt is doing this on purpose, just to piss me off.

“That’s why I’m doing it, because I love the challenge.” He wags his eyebrows.

“You do realize you spent the last two years treating her like dirt on my behalf?” I try a different tactic.

“Yeah, but girls love that shit sometime. The