Disorder by J.L. Weil

Chapter Twenty-One

Imust have emitted bad day vibes. I’d never been through so many highs and lows in a single week. It had to be a record, and I couldn’t help thinking the universe had to cut me a break. I was due one, right? Like gacha games, I had to be approaching pity; the odds had to be in my favor after all the shit I’d been through.

Being that it was Friday night in November, Elmwood Academy had a football game. One of the few left in the season. After my incident with Brock in the locker room, I was in no mood to don my pom-poms and cheer from the stands, not that I would ever do that. The point was, I just wanted to stay home and wallow in my heartache, because it turned out, walking away from Brock ripped my heart to pieces.

I fucking loved the jackass.

Couldn’t he see that?

I had myself to blame. Why had I ever thought I could keep things casual? And despite his reasons, I couldn’t sit by and watch him with another girl, even it if was all a sham. My heart wasn’t built to withstand that kind of pain, jealousy, and betrayal. I felt all in abundance.

A part of me knew Brock would never really let me go, but the big question was could I stay away from him? Did I want to?

Not really, a loud voice boomed in my head.

If I could admit that to myself, then I also realized something had to change. I needed to do something. Drastic measures and all that shit.

I skipped the Friday night football game for several reasons; my horrible track record with football games and avoiding Brock were the top two contenders. Instead, I stayed home with Liana and Chandler, who also missed the game at Grayson’s suggestion. When they were home, his parents usually went to watch him play, but Grayson thought it might be nice if the three of us had some time alone.

Grayson knew precisely why I didn’t want to go to the game, and he didn’t push. I silently thanked him.

It was nice, spending a night with my bio parents. They succeeded in diverting my thoughts from Brock, if only for a few hours. Chandler grilled kabobs, like grilled them himself. Of course, the kitchen prepped the kabobs, but still, I was impressed. When he noticed my lifted brow, he told me grilling calmed him and made him feel manly.

Liana and I laughed. It felt so good to laugh—to be worry-free, if only for a few hours.

I often found them gazing at me like they couldn’t believe I was real. That feeling also resided in me when I looked at them. Surreal.

The night ended too quickly, and before long, I was surrounded by darkness, tossing and turning in bed. No matter how many diversions I tempted my brain with, my thoughts always went back to Brock. Was I really giving up? I’d meant what I said. I was done waiting, done with the games.

If Ava weren’t a factor, would Brock want us to be more than just fuck buddies?

Sometime after midnight, I heard Grayson come home. I contemplated rolling out of bed and talking to him, but it wasn’t fair to him put in the middle of Brock’s and my drama. I couldn’t do that.

So I suffered with my obsessive thoughts alone in the dark, refusing to cry. Brock Taylor was not worth my tears… so I kept telling myself.

I slept very little, my emotions flip-flopping between gut-wrenching sadness and such flaming anger that when the sun rose over the hills, I hoped Brock had suffered as much as I had. More so.

* * *

I planned to do absolutely nothing all weekend and managed to do just that most of Saturday until the Elite showed up. Well, three out of four. Brock was absent, which should have been a good thing, considering I wasn’t ready to see the asshole yet, but somehow that wasn’t the case. The disappointment that settled within me was very fucking real. I assumed they were here for Grayson, but when I noticed Mads was with them, it became clear that the group was up to something.

I should have headed upstairs and locked myself in Kenna’s room. That would have been the smart option.

Grayson turned on the gas fireplace on the backyard patio. It was cool tonight. The air had a bite to it, and the warmth that emitted from the fire was nice. Grayson sat down on one of the beach-style chairs that circled the fire pit. He stretched out his legs and asked me, “What happened between you and Brock?”

Unease twisted in my chest. Had Brock said something to them? “Nothing, why?” I replied, trying to stick to the plan to keep Grayson out of the middle.

Orange and yellow flames licked over the lava rocks, casting shadows over Fynn’s face. He sat directly across from me. “Because he is acting as mopey as you are. We almost lost the game last night. His head wasn’t in it.”

I’d heard about the close call at breakfast this morning. “What makes you think that has anything to do with me?”

The three guys gave me pointed looks that apparently spoke volumes.

I sighed. “Whatever. Tell him to stop being a stupid prick. This shit with Ava has gone on too long. I told him I was over it yesterday. That’s what happened.”

“You did what?” Surprise fluttered over Mads’s face. For once she didn’t light up.

Micah rocked his chair back on two legs. “You know, you are the first girl he has ever treated like this. That means something.”

I shrugged. “Maybe, but he has a funny way of showing it.”

Fynn tossed a stray lava rock into the fire. “That might be true, but for Brock, this is his way of showing you just how much he cares. He wouldn’t go to such lengths for anyone. He’s doing it for you.”

“Stop being reasonable,” I muttered, stretching my feet closer to the warmth. “I don’t like it.”

Fynn’s lips twitched.

“What you need is to relax—cut loose—party,” Micah exclaimed. Always needing physical contact of some sort, he scooted his chair an inch closer and put his arm around me.

Suddenly, the reason for this gathering began to make sense. “I’m not much in the mood for a party,” I admitted honestly.

Micah’s impish grin sent a warning through me. They weren’t going to be easily brushed off. An internal groan went off in my head.

“Hey.” A familiar voice came from the house. I didn’t have to look up to know who it was. A trail of tingles danced up my spine, and as if they moved of their own accord, my gaze lifted. Brock strutted toward us, his eyes locking with mine.

Why did he have to look so fucking good? Drop-your-panties-instantly good. He had a way of making basic clothes like jeans and a T-shirt look phenomenal.

A few awkward seconds stretched over the group as Brock and I stared at each other. Someone finally cleared his throat, breaking through the silence.

Brock took the only empty seat. At least he hadn’t brought the bitch with him. I didn’t know what I would have done if he had brought Ava here of all places.

Definitely made a scene. And I wasn’t quite ready to show the Edwardses just how crazy I really was.

“You guys ready?” he asked, the white shirt stretching across his chest. I told myself not to think about what was under that shirt, the hard planes of muscle and swirling ink of tattoos.

My thoughts betrayed me.

“We’re working on it,” Grayson replied.

Brock’s eyes zeroed in on me once again, and he arched a brow. “She being difficult?” he asked.

Suspicion grew in my belly, and I frowned. “What the fuck? I am sitting right here, you know. You don’t have to talk around me.”

Brock eyed me closely. “I see what you mean.”

My gaze swept around the circle, realizing this shit was planned. “What is this, some kind of party intervention?”

Micah crossed his arms over his chest. “Hell yes, Josie Jo.”

“You can’t hide out here forever,” Mads said. Whose side was she on anyway?

“Yes, I can,” I clipped out. “Besides, it’s only been a week.”

“Two weeks,” Fynn clarified, as if I needed him to. “You were injured the week before.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re all going to gang up on me, aren’t you, until I give in?”

“Pretty much, Firefly. Save yourself the trouble and just say yes.” It was the first time he’d spoken directly to me since strutting his fine ass into the Edwardses’ house. Not that I noticed his ass or anything. I was on a Brock hiatus. Indefinitely. So I reminded myself.

If only he didn’t smell so good, which I wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t chosen to sit beside me, a deliberate maneuver on his part. Here, when it was just the group, he didn’t have to pretend; not that I gave a shit.

But apparently, I did. Or at least, my body did. His nearness fucked with my ability to stay mad at him.

“You guys suck. Does anyone remember what happened the last time I went to a party?” I pointed out.

“Don’t let the bastard keep you from doing things you love, from living, from experiencing life. We’re seventeen. This is the time in our life when we are supposed to party.” Mads’s eyes glittered with strong intensity.

Everything she said was something I’d already thought myself. But thinking was entirely different than executing.

“Fuck yeah,” Micah added at the end of Mads’s speech.

I couldn’t help but shake my head and try to cover the smile that tugged at my mouth. Leave it to Micah to make a joke out of everything.

“You, Josie James, should not be contained. We’re not going to let that asshole keep you in a box,” Mads declared.

Damn right, I shouldn’t. My lips curled into a half smile. “Thanks, Mads. I fucking needed that.”

She offered me a smile of her own, the glow of flickering flames highlighting her face. “Girl, it’s what I’m here for. To lift you up and set you straight.”

Grayson blinked at Mads. “Are you done yet?”

Mads rolled her eyes.

“Okay, fine,” I surrendered. “Let’s go out. Give me ten minutes. And I better not get abducted or beat up tonight, clear?”

“So that leaves room for shot or buried alive,” Micah joked.

Mads whacked Micah on the back of the head. “You’re a morbid asshole.”

“Damn, Clarke. Lay off the weights.” He rubbed at the back of his skull and then ruined any sympathy he might have received by winking at her.

Dumbass. He never learned.

Before I changed my mind, I made a quick trip upstairs into Kenna’s room, only to realize I didn’t have shit to wear. Brock had given Grayson the few items I left at his house, but it consisted mostly of stuff to wear to school and lounging items for the weekend. All of my actual clothes were still at the Pattersons’.

Chewing on my lips, I stared at the closet doors, mulling over the idea of borrowing something from Kenna.

“She won’t mind, you know,” a voice said from the doorway. Mads walked into the room, the black jeans she wore hugging her curves as threw open the closet door. The deep purple sweater hung off one of her shoulders, flashing a bit of ivory skin. Mads always looked good and ready to kick someone’s ass. She had this rich girl rebel quality only she could pull off. All the other girls at the Academy were so prissy, like they grew up thinking the movie Clueless was the holy grail.

“It just feels like I’d be invading her privacy,” I admitted.

“She’s your sister. It’s like a rite of passage or something to borrow her shit.” Mads scanned through the racks of hanging clothes. “Now, let's see. There has to be something in there that would suit your tastes…” She continued to comb through the soft pink sweaters, the ivory shirts, and cute skirts until she came across something black. “Here we go. Put this on and grab a pair of jeans. She has like a hundred of them.”

Padding into the adjoined bathroom, I quickly changed into the black sweater that was intentionally shredded in random spots and slid into a pair of dark, buttery jeans, feeling almost more like myself.

Mads eyed me with approval as I stepped out. “See. That shirt was made for you.”

“I can’t see Kenna wearing this.” I touched the hem of the knitted material. All her other clothes were so preppy.

“She bought it for Halloween, I think. Never wore it. Didn’t get the chance.” Mads reached into the vanity, pulling out a tube of mascara and eyeliner. “Close your eyes,” she stated with a grin, pulling off the cap on the eyeliner.

I obeyed. Having Mads help me get ready reminded me so much of Ainsley. I missed her like crazy. I couldn’t look at eyeliner without thinking of my best friend. Since the whole Carter incident, things between us had grown distant. I knew it was safer for her this way, to not get mixed up in this mess, but she was that piece of my old life I refused to let go of.

“Open,” Mads instructed, pulling me from my somber thoughts.

She applied a thick coat of mascara to my lashes. “It will be okay,” she said. “You will find a new normal. I did, because of you.”

“Mads,” I said softly, blinking.

Screwing the cap back onto the tube, she said, “You have no idea how much I needed a friend, needed you, even if you look just like my other best friend.”

A low laugh escaped me. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“Not tonight. Tonight we dance our asses off.”

* * *

The party turned out to be at Brock’s. Go figure.

There was something calm and reassuring about coming back to his house, like a haven, despite the place being overrun with teenagers, most of whom I recognized, including a few I’d like to hit with a baseball bat. Like my archenemy—Ava Whitmore.

Now that I was here… what did I plan to do?

“Do you want to leave?” Mads asked like the good friend she was, noticing what caused the sudden deep scowl on my lips. “We could take this party elsewhere. Somewhere less… skankish.”

I thought about it, and to be honest, my gut reaction urged me to do just that, but then another thought snuck in. Sometimes my brain scared the shit out of me. This was one of those times. “Nah. This gives me the opportunity I’ve been waiting for, but I’ll need your help. I have a bitch to take down.” Getting the shit beat out of me sucked, but what Mads said earlier struck a chord within me. I refused to shrink or run out of the room every time I laid eyes on Ava. I would not give her precisely what she wanted. Fuck no. I’d do what she’d least expect.

From across the room, the redheaded twat flipped her hair as her eyes clashed with mine. A venomous grin curved over her lips, like a cat playing with its prey before the kill.

Mads lifted her hand, shooting Ava the middle finger. “I love devious plots of destruction. You had me at take down. What do you need me to do?”

“Be my decoy. Just long enough for me to slip past my guard.” My gaze shifted sideways to Micah.

“Really? You couldn’t give me something more challenging?” She nearly sulked at the idea of having to distract the playboy Elite.

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll let you know when. For now, let's mingle.”

Both her brows shot up. “We mingle? Since when?”

Looping my arms into hers, I said, “Tonight we do.” I was going to teach both Brock and Ava a lesson, the whole “kill two birds with one stone” tactic.

So for the next hour, I flirted with every guy who crossed my path, touching, laughing, twirling my hair, whispering in their ear, all while making sure Brock had a front-row seat with Ava on his lap. The problem with this plan was that I had to also watch her flirt with my guy.

I had told Brock I was done. And I was. Done with the lies and the games. But I realized something tonight… I could never be done with him. I just had to show him what he would miss. Before the night was over, Ava wouldn’t be my problem, and Brock… he’d claim me, just as I would claim him.

What was a party without fireworks?

Ava got up from her cozy spot draped around Brock and meandered through the crowd. The opening I’d been waiting for came, and I jumped on it. Keeping my gaze focused on the target, I nudged Mads lightly. “Ready to put the girls to use?”

From the corner of my gaze, I saw her adjust her boobs and pull down the front of her sweater. “Ready.”

Poor Micah. I almost felt bad siccing Mads on him. Almost.

As Mads spun, blocking me from Micah’s line of sight, I followed Ava. She approached the bathroom and slipped inside, but before she could shut the door, I thrust out my arm, slamming my palm on the door.

“What the—?” Ava whirled, her hazel eyes colliding with mine.

I grinned, bulldozed my way inside the bathroom, and shut the door, flipping the lock. How ironic that the Ava had delivered me my first warning in a bathroom at Grayson’s house. And now here I was, about to deliver one of my own. “Hey, bitch.”

She stood smugly, a hand going to her hip. “What the fuck do you want? Another beatdown?”

If she thought she could intimidate me, she was fucking wrong. “I’d like to see you try. It’s just you and me. Think you can take me?”

Her lips pressed in a tight line.

I positioned myself in front of the door, blocking her chance at escape, just as she had done to me. Sweet revenge. “I’m guessing not. One-on-one, you’re not shit. Remember where I came from. Brawls at Public are a daily occurrence.”

Her mouth twitched. “What’s your point? I’m growing bored and I have people waiting for me… like Brock.”

Fucking whore.

That was just the wrong thing to say to me.

I let a short laugh. And then another longer one. Before I knew it, giggles burst out of me as I leaned against the door.

She stared at me, her nose bunching up and a bead of concern flickering in her eyes. “What is wrong with you? Are you having a nervous breakdown?”

“Sorry to disappoint, it’s just fucking hilarious that you actually believe Brock is into you.” Satisfaction glowed within me. God, that felt so damn good to say.

Her eyes became sharper as they narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s all a hoax. A fucking lie. He doesn’t give two shits about you. It’s all a ploy to ruin you by pretending to be interested in you. I’m not sure what he has planned, but I can’t wait to find out.” Except, I was spoiling his scheme purposely, doing a bit of my own retaliation. I didn’t need the whole school to see. This was between Ava and me.

“You lie,” she hissed, despite her face bleaching a little of color.

“Am I?” I countered, angling my head. “Think about it, Ava. I know there has to be a brain inside that pretty head,” I said, tapping the side of my skull. “Does that sound like something the Elite would do? You’ve been around a lot longer than I have.”

Fury sprang into her cheeks, turning them pink. “You’re just jealous. He finally realized what trash you are.”

I snorted. “Pathetic. I’ll be the one laughing my ass off when he makes you a fool in front of the entire school. Did you actually believe there would be no repercussions for what you and your friends did to me?”

“Brock would never choose someone like you,” she hissed.

Challenge accepted.

A dark smile graced my lips. “That’s where you’re wrong. I might be trash, but he will always pick me.” Pretty sure he would. Brock had never told me he loved me, but I was a gambling kind of girl. I was betting on him and me. “Are you so confident to think that if we went out there right now and I demanded he choose one of us, that he would pick you?”

Doubt crept into her hazel eyes. Just a flicker, but it was enough.

I pounced. “In fact, just the other day at school, he fucked me in the locker room.”

“That’s all you are, a fuck.” She flung the accusation at me.

I grinned. “And a damn good one. He comes to me. Not you.”

The bitch stepped forward, a hand open at her side.

I thought she might slap me, and I would have welcomed the pain. I wanted her to hit me first because then it was game on. “I’m guessing by the fury in your eyes that you and Brock haven’t been intimate since his sudden return interest in you. Didn’t you think the timing was odd? That he would start paying attention to you again after what you did to me? You’re lucky he didn’t have the living shit beaten out of you.” I advanced on her, getting in her face. “I’m more of a tit for tat girl.”

“Perhaps I went too easy on you the first time.” She shook with fury, her voice trembling from it.

Lifted my chin, I baited her. “Go on. Hit me. I dare you. It will give me an excuse to kick your fucking ass. You don’t stand a chance against me alone, and you know it. Without your friends, you’re nothing. Just a rich girl who can’t get the guy.”

“Get the hell out of here!”

I wasn’t done yet. I was just getting started. “How about we just end this right here, right now?”

“What are you doing?” she asked when I turned the lock and reached for the door.

“It’s not what I’m doing. It’s what we’re doing. Come on,” I ordered over my shoulder, holding the door open. “Don’t make me drag you down the hall by your nappy red hair.”

“My hair is not nappy, whore.”

I grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her out of the bathroom. She ripped her hand out from my grasp as I started forward down the hall. A few nearby partygoers turned to stare, and as I stalked through the house, Ava on my heels, we drew more eyes. I didn’t give a flying fuck.

Micah pushed his way through the crowd and sauntered up beside me, keeping pace with my footsteps. “Josie Jo, what is going on?” He muttered near my ear.

I weaved around furniture, moving into the next room. “Just wait and find out. The entertainment is about to begin.”

“I’m not so sure a strip show is the best idea,” he muttered, eyeing me warily.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not getting naked, you perv.”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you and Mads did back there,” he said, busting us.

I shrugged, my purpose unwavering. “I needed a moment.”

His gaze flicked to Ava, who was now flanked by Izzy and Emily. “I see that.”

I whirled on Micah, my emotions heightened. “Where is he?” I demanded.

Grayson suddenly appeared at my other side. “What’s going on? You have that look.”

I glared at my brother, pivoting to search the room. “I don’t have a look. Do you know where he is or not?”

Grayson’s gaze darted over my shoulder before returning to me; a shrewdness that hadn’t been there before flared.

“She’s lost it,” Ava shrieked, her eyes also scanning the crowd.

I shot her daggers, suppressing the urge to slam my palm into her nose. “I told her the truth. Now, where is he?”

Grayson blinked. “You did what?”

“Hot damn, Josie Jo. Way to blow shit up. You are literally my idol.” Micah chuckled with approval, flashing me his adorable dimples.

“Brock’s going to be pissed,” Grayson stated, his expression impassive.

I shrugged. “What else is new? I’ll handle him.”

“You might just be the only girl who can,” he mumbled, signalling over my head to someone. I thought it might be Brock and lifted up to see over the crowd. It was Fynn and Mads.

The two of them wandered over, my best friend shooting Ava a death glare.

Grayson assessed the situation. I had drawn a line between Ava and me without even knowing it. She had her side, and I had mine, which I could admit was a helluva a lot better than hers. “This is a bad idea, Josie,” Grayson muttered.

“Probably,” I agreed as I wondered how many rooms in this house I would have to check before I found Brock.

Grayson placed a hand on my shoulder. “Nothing I say will stop you.”

I slide my glance to him. “No. If you stand in my way, bro, we are going to have our first fight.”

Turned out, I didn’t need to find Brock. He found me, which looking back, I realized what a sight I must have looked, surrounded by the three guys. We drew all sorts of attention.

Brock’s brows were furrowed together, his aqua eyes narrowed as he glanced between us. “What is going on?”

I faced him. “Ava and I have a score to settle.”

Ava shoved her way forward. “Brock, she is fucking out of control. I demand you kick her out.”

Micah rubbed his hands together, grinning impishly. “Ah, shit! This is going to be good.”

Ignoring them both, I closed the distance between Brock and me with determination shining in my eyes. His brows narrowed as I approached, and he saw the trouble that brewed in my face. He knew I was up to something, and it wouldn’t be good.

“Firefly—” he said firmly, but that was all he got out before my lips attached to his. I laced my fingers into his hair as I touched my tongue to his lips, demanding he open for me. He did, without hesitation. Desire flared between us at the first brush of our tongues.

I was semi-aware of the room going quiet, of the few gasps, but only for a second. Every thought of revenge eddied out of my mind at the taste of Brock. Nothing but him mattered.

“I need you. Tell me you want me,” I murmured against his mouth.

“Always, Firefly.”

Our bodies were pressed so close together I felt his heart beat. “Only me.”

“Only you,” he affirmed, his mouth seizing mine in another explosive kiss.

And that was all I needed.

I kissed him for a few more seconds before I regrettably drew away, ending the kiss. My arms were locked around his neck, his hands securing me to him. I turned my head to the side, brows raised smugly as Brock’s lips brushed against my ear, taking the lobe into his mouth. Victory curled on my lips as I stared at Ava.

So much hate glittered in her hazel eyes, her cheeks flaring bright pink with shame. By the end of the night, word would spread about what I’d done. This time, I didn’t care that I’d be the hot topic on Monday. I owned it.

Mine, I mouthed.

Ava whirled around, her red hair flying in the air. I swore I caught a glimmer of fresh tears springing into her eyes. She stormed off, pushing her way through the crowd, Izzy and Emily hot on her heels, hopefully to lick her fucking wounded black heart.

Bitch got what she deserved.

Brock was watching me when I turned back toward him. His brows pinched together. “Dammit, Firefly.”

I didn’t want to argue, and I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. “Say it.” He knew what I was asking, and his eyes darkened, but this time I wasn’t backing down. I knew what I wanted. It was clear to me. He might not see it this way, but I was fighting for what I wanted. Him.

“This isn’t cute,” he said through his teeth.

We still had a crowd around us, but with the show over, they were starting to go back to their drinks and muttering amongst themselves. I didn’t give a shit about them. “There is nothing cute about us. I want to hear you say it.” My eyes stayed on his as I wound our fingers together.

“You want to hear that I’m in love with you,” he said tightly, causing my stomach to drop.

I lifted my chin, still searching his eyes from some kind of emotion, a tell that he was half as crazy about me as I was him. “Yes.”

He stared at me for a full moment in silence—a deafening quiet that had my heart hammering in my chest. What if he didn’t say it? What if I was wrong? What if he didn’t—?

“Firefly, I love—”

I kissed him fervently before he could finish the words. “I love you, Brock fucking Taylor.”

He grinned. “God, I never thought there would be a girl who would be my match. You were made for me, James.”

“I think I was.”