Riot Rules (Crooked Sinners)

by Callie Hart

Her hair is wild—tight, corkscrew curls. The bridge of her nose is smattered with freckles, giving her a girlish look that contradicts her very noticeable curves, which are showcased by a tight NASA t-shirt and black denim skirt. Her skin is pale as fresh poured cream. The apples of her cheeks sport a high flush, like she’s just walked out of an overly hot room. I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful in my life.

How can she be even more beautiful now that she’s livid?

She’s been in love with Pax Davis for nearly two years now, and I can’t for the life of me reason why. The guy needs to be lobotomized.

When that kind of narcissism is drilled into you from such an early age, there’s only one thing you can become, pretty little Carrie Mendoza.” I’m a human torch. Living, breathing, aching flame. Pretty little Carrie Mendoza…

“Stop trying to save me, for fuck’s sake. Just… I want you to be real with me. That’s all I’ve wanted from the beginning. Everything’s a front with you. An argument. A game. A lie. I’m so sick of it. I just want the truth. I just want…I just want you.”

The boys know my father’s a cunt. They’ve met him in person, and it’s pretty easy to deduce that little detail in the flesh. Actually, it’s impossible to ignore.

I’m in New Hampshire. There’s a girl that I like sleeping in her room on top of the mountain.

“It means you win, Carrie. I give in. You’ve got me. No takebacks. Whatever fucking madness happens next…you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“What do you think?” he whispers into my neck. “You can feel it right? How hard I am? Of course I fucking want you. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my entire life. I wanna corrupt you so fucking bad, it hurts. It’s taking every ounce of strength I possess not to rail the living shit out of you. I want you breathless, shaking, and painted in my come.”

This is better than gentle. This is the truth. This is how Dashiell Lovett fucks. “Carina. Carina. Fucking hell, Carrie. Fuck.” He chants my name like it’s both prayer and curse. “You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. You’re incredible. You’re mine.”

“No fucking way, Mendoza. Your fate’s sealed. You belong to me now. You’re just gonna have to learn to live behind a few locked doors is all.” My heart’s a rabbit, kicking at my breastbone. “And what if I don’t like hiding behind locked doors?” “Oh, you will.” “How can you be so sure?” “Because you’ll be locked behind them with me.”

“Whatever you give light to will grow, Dash. Feed something and it’ll flourish. Care enough and the fragile thing in your hands will strengthen. I have faith that you’ll give me what you can until there’s more of it to give. That’s all.”

Tender-hearted Carrie. So wide-eyed. So naïve. She’s everything good in the world.

I’m a sick and twisted, dirty motherfucker. I’m going to wind up corrupting her, and what could be more beautiful? I get to watch this girl discover her weird. She’s going to go from inexperienced, shy and cautious, to bold, demanding and freaky right before my eyes. There’s no question about it. From her clothes, to her hair, to her personality, there’s nothing vanilla about this girl. She’s loud, and bright, and brave, and I can’t wait to witness her transformation.

“Stellaluna. Stars and moon. You’re way more beautiful than the night sky, Carrie.

“If the girls here are foolish enough to call me Sun God, then you are the goddess of the moon. Diana. Selene. Artemis. Luna. My pale and ethereal queen.”

“Y’know, for centuries, they used to think the moon sent men mad. Like the phases of the moon affected a person’s sanity. Lunatic. That’s where the word came from. I can see how they came to that conclusion, Carrie. You drive me crazy.

“It’s okay, Stella. We’ll be a permanent eclipse. That way, we’ll always be together.” “That way, the world will always be in darkness,” I argue. He shrugs, flicking my lip with the tip of his tongue. “Who gives a flying fuck about the rest of the world. I only care about you and me.”

“What…was that?” I whisper. The bench underneath him creaks as he spins around and faces me. “What d’you think it was, silly girl,” he says. “It was you.”

The come down is just as sweet as the ascent. I feel like I’m floating, drifting, sinking down into the mattress. Dash rests on top of me for a moment, catching his breath, and the two of us just be. These are the moments I live for. These blissful silences, entangled in the dark, feed my soul in a way I never imagined possible.

“I’d like to tell you something.” My pulse kicks up a gear. “Is it important?” He smiles a small smile, his voice very quiet. “Terribly.” “Then I suppose you’d better go ahead.” His hand rests gently against my neck, his thumb stroking reverently along the line of my jaw. “I am so in love with you, Carina Mendoza. I feel like I might die.”

I’ll stay here until I die, I think. I’m cracked open. I’m hollowed out. I’m shattered into pieces. I’m done.

I haven’t given much real thought to heaven or hell. I’ve always known that neither existed, so I’ve spent very little time imagining the very best or the very worst of places that a soul might languish for all of eternity.

However, I’ve discovered recently that I might have been wrong. Maybe heaven and hell do exist. After all, I’ve been living in purgatory since last July, caught in this in-between world where I experience the sweet relief of seeing the girl I love every day, only to be punished by the unbearable sting of not being able to speak to her, touch her, or even fucking look at her at the same time.

Pax and I look down at our beers and then look at each other. “Beating the shit out of that dude is gonna be really difficult,” Pax says, cracking open his beer. “Like, he is a dog trapped in a man’s body.” “I know,” I say morosely. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”

He wasn’t afraid to ask, because the depths of his feelings for the girl demanded it. I should have done the same thing for Carina. I should have prioritized her over all else. I ought to have cherished her more than anything in this world, including my friendship with Pax and Wren, because that is what she’s worth.

I told myself I was keeping her safe by hiding our relationship, but I’ve come to face facts now. I was scared. Pathetic. What I wouldn’t give to go back in time and fix things. Do them right first time around. Hindsight’s a bitch of a thing, ain’t it?

God, every part of me aches. I’d happily trade a year of my life for every second I get to hold her in my arms. I hide the pitiful yearning in my soul, setting my jaw. “Follow me, then.”