Twisted Lies by Nora Cobb
Chapter 11
Astrid
The next day, I can’t wait for my last class to finally end. All day, all I’ve dreamt about is posing for Justin, draped in flowing fabric while he worships me as his muse. Before, I would never have allowed my imagination to lapse into romantic bullshit. But after Justin kissed my hand, now I get why girls want to be pursued instead of banged.
I run over to my dorm room to freshen up, and Roni and Terri are sitting side by side in the two desk chairs. His arm is draped casually over the back of her chair, and she’s leaning into him. I debate on taking a step back and out the door, but before I can, Roni turns around.
“Come see this, Astrid.” She holds up her phone. “The fight has been posted on all the socials and has 2K views already.”
Terri takes his arm off her chair and places it in his lap. I’d feel odd, leaning in between them, so I stand on the opposite side of Roni’s chair to look. She laughs as we watch Wyatt punch Pierce in the gut.
“Some kid posted it with music.” She laughs again.
“Do you think they’ll be expelled?” I ask, cringing as Wyatt takes a hit.
“I heard a rumor they won’t,” she replies, holding up the screen, “Maybe suspended for a few days. I saw Wyatt on campus.”
In silence, we watch the end of the video, and Roni puts it away when I don’t share the joyous reaction that she has. Wyatt being expelled would be worse than terrible. And nothing is certain—it’s always gossip. Despite how I might feel for the other boys, Wyatt is the only one I can picture myself with after graduation. I can’t imagine being here at Stonehaven without knowing he’s around. Even when he’s pissed at me, I feel secure knowing he’s around and knowing we’ll have a second chance.
“Are you going to the Halloween Ball?” Roni asks.
I look at the two of them sitting so close together, and I hear the squeaking of a third wheel loud and clear in my mind. “I’m not sure,” I reply, staring at Terri.
Roni clasps Terri’s shoulder. “We’re heading down to Salem for the parade. You should come with us.”
I glance at Terri, who has an expectant gaze in his eyes, but Roni’s smile looks so phony it cramps my stomach.
“I think I’ll hang here,” I reply happily, “I probably should study, and I have track. I’ll just go to the party at the dining hall.”
“A lot of kids go alone.” Roni smiles at Terri, holding onto his hand. “Hardly anyone has a date.”
I nod, feeling weird that I’m even standing near them. I grab my gear from the closet and head into the bathroom for a quick shower. When I step out, Terri is gone, and Roni is sitting at her desk, reading her tablet. She’s wearing a heavy sweatshirt over her scoop T-shirt. I thought she looked cold before.
“I was going to leave the room,” I tell her, “but you saw me before I could back out.”
“Yeah, I saw your reflection in the window,” she says, “That’s what happens when it starts getting dark early. You don’t mind that we’re going off alone?”
I shake my head like a helicopter taking off. “I don’t mind at all. Enjoy yourselves. Have a good time.” I pause. “Have you kissed yet?”
Roni shrugs her shoulders. “He’s touching me more. You know. My shoulder or my hand.”
I grin, thinking it’s so sweet and frustrating. “I saw where he had his arm when I walked in.”
Roni giggles. “I’m hoping we’ll spend the night together in Salem.”
“Well,” I grab my bag to leave, “if you end up back in the room, send me a text, and I’ll disappear for a night.”
***
“Is anyone around?” I ask Justin as I sit on the platform in his studio. Vogel Hall is eerily quiet at this time of night as I look up at the darkened windows. The cloth over the doorway is pulled tightly across and pinned with clamps in place. No one could casually peek in without pulling the canvas down.
Justin looks unconcerned as he sets up his easel. “People are around, but they’re busy working on their own projects.”
I wait with my top on, not too anxious to be caught. I doubt Howland would understand if I was caught and expelled for impropriety, not after I brazenly asked him for birth control pills.
“Why did you take the whole computer and not download it?” I ask, lying down on the platform.
“I wanted Pierce to know that I had it.” His voice is matter-of-fact, as if he doesn’t really care about their opinions anymore.
“I’m starting to believe you,” I tell him.
Justin looks up. “Believe what?” he asks.
“That they put you up to it,” I reply.
“We’re all given tasks,” he replies, “and now, mine will be harder.” He looks at me sitting with my forearms resting on my knees. “When I say pose—change your pose. I’m doing a series of quick sketches first, and then I’ll work off one for my painting.”
I wait for Justin to ask, but he doesn’t, so I keep my top on. Justin nods his head to a silent rhythm as his hand flashes across the paper in a blur. His cheeks are flushed, but he’s not interested in sex. The concentration in his piercing gaze is like mine when I’m in the ring. He’s conquering his emotions by placing them on paper.
I glance over at the cloth stretched across the door and listen for movement from the other side. It’s silent. I sit up, and Justin frowns because I broke the pose too soon. I watch that frown disappear as I pull my sweater over my head, revealing a thin T-shirt. I pull it over my head and then reach behind me to unclasp my bra, tossing everything on the floor.
I lie back down on a drop cloth and glance at the curtain again.
“When people expect you to do bad things, you don’t want to disappoint them,” I explain calmly.
I do my best to remember my pose. Justin sighs in frustration and steps forward. I wait for him to touch me. I expect it, but instead of feeling my naked breasts, he touches my chin and gently tilts my head toward the correct angle.
“There,” he says, “keep that pose.”
I do exactly as he says, and my feelings for him have changed. He’s as serious about his art as I’m about sports. He gazes at my body as his hand strikes across the pad of paper. His brow creases in concentration as he draws. Justin pulls the page off the pad and tosses it onto the floor, immediately starting another sketch. Furiously slashing at the page, his gaze moves slowly over my body.
I sigh as if he’s touched me, but his hands never leave the paper. His gaze is the only thing that caresses my skin, and my body starts to heat. Justin brings me to the edge repeatedly, but he stays focused on his art until I’m ready to squirm out of my skin.
“Pose.”
Justin pulls the page off the pad, and I move my body, easing out a cramp. I place one hand on my breast; my hard nipple pokes out between my fingers. He watches my hand as he sketches. His long hair is falling across his face, but I can still see his eyes, intense and devouring as his hand creates what he feels. His look is stirring desire that flows toward the surface of my skin.
I pinch my fingers around my hard nipple and moan. I hold my nipple in my fingertips and arch my back slightly off the platform.
He bites his lips. His forehead glistens as his hand continues to move, and his breathing sounds loud in the stillness.
“Pose.”
His voice is thick as I roll onto my tummy, and my short skirt flips up, revealing my lean legs. I lie still, pressing my breasts into the hardwood platform, making them look plump and lush. I smirk. I can’t help thinking about the night we stole the laptop and how controlled he was even when I thought we would get caught. Justin will take a risk, and the thought makes me wet.
“Pose.”
He rips the paper off and lets it float to the floor. It lands near the platform, and I see what Justin sees when he draws me. My form is immobile, but he’s depicted the energy within me. My lips are parted as I stare at the ceiling. My expression looks welcoming, not desperate, but revealing a longing.
“We’re done,” he says, tossing his charcoal onto the easel.
Justin takes a few quick strides, and he’s beside me, sinking down onto the platform. His mouth latches onto my nipple, his blackened hand leaving marks on my pale breast. I moan, tugging his long hair over my bare skin.
“I want you,” he moans, “all of you. I want to trace every line and curve with my fingers. To possess you like a piece of art.”
His hand slips underneath my skirt. Slowly, his hand moves along my inner thigh. I don’t stop him as his finger trails over my panties, feeling the soaked spot in between my thighs. His lips secure mine, and I wiggle underneath his body as he lies down on top of me.
“Let me taste you,” he whispers, “I want to know what you taste like. I want you on my lips while I paint.”
I hold onto his shoulders. “Not here,” I smile sinfully, “I don’t want to be interrupted.”
Justin smiles and lets me go. “Then meet me tonight by the gate after curfew.”
