Riot Rules (Crooked Sinners)

by Callie Hart

I turn back to say something sharp and witty to this girl, Carrie, but when I look up, she’s already walking out of the hospital’s exit. It feels like the axis of the earth has shifted. Marginally. An imperceptible fraction. Enough that I can notice the difference, and now everything feels…off kilter.

“I don’t care what Dashiell Lovett thinks of me.” What. A. Fucking. Joke.

Am I supposed to feel like this? Like a small part of me has been off out of balance my whole life, but it just clicked into place the second his tongue slipped into my mouth?

Her eyes—beautiful, striking, wide—are staring straight at me, and they’re full of concern. It’s as if she knows exactly what kind of bomb is about to blow up in her face, and she’s preparing for the fallout.

I’m staring at Dashiell, the way I’ve been staring at Dashiell for the past year. Only this time, there’s a difference. This time, he’s staring back.

I like listening to him play. I like the heat in the pit of my stomach when I look at him. I like the way the world feels like it’s burning when our eyes meet.

A smile on his face can be the most beautiful thing, but it can also be the cruelest.

“No need to look so stunned, Mendoza. It’s not that big a deal.” “God, you…” I shake my head. “You’re fucking pathetic, Dash. You know that? Fucking stupid, too. You don’t need to worry about ignoring me in class anymore. I won’t be bothering you again.”

I walk away. I don’t think he cares very much.

His eyes shine brightly when he looks at me. And boy, do I feel it when he looks at me. My goosebumps have goosebumps. I…out of nowhere, I’m fucking aching under his gaze.

“What do you hope to accomplish by coming here and showing me this?” I whisper. “What’s the point?”

“People like to believe all kinds of shit about me, Carina. I don’t give a fuck most of the time. But you believing that about me? I couldn’t handle you believing that.”

I can’t stop thinking about her. Can’t stop being mad at her nosy ass. Can’t stop thinking about how cute she is when she’s mad.

But you’ve got to do one thing for me in return.” “What?”

“You’ve got to stay the hell away from me.”

“I’m not saying that because I don’t—” He rips his gaze away. “Seems like all I do is warn you how badly you’re gonna get hurt if you don’t give me a wide berth, Mendoza. But no matter how shitty I am to you, you don’t seem to be paying any fucking attention. Why is that? I’m trying to save you—” “Stop.” He looks back at me. His eyes shutter. “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.”

I’ll stay out of your way. You’ll never have to see my face again!” He pauses, but he doesn’t look back.

“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.”

“Would it help if I closed my eyes?” Dash whispers.

“Yes.” The boy who has never shown me any mercy before does me this one act of kindness. His eyelids flutter closed,

I touch my fingers to his cheek again, ready for his reaction this time. There’s no flinch, though. No reaction at all. He stands there, still as a marble statue, while I trace my fingers over his features, one at a time. His strong jaw; his cheekbones; his nose; over each eyebrow. He huffs out a sharp breath when I gently stroke the scar on his chin, and I can’t tell if he’s laughing or irritated. I move on, using a featherlight touch to map out the shell of his ear.

He’s gentle with me. There’s no urgency. No fight. The kiss is a surrender.

“Fuck this. You’re right. No more games. No more bullshit. We’re doing this.”

“No,” he says. “What?” “Tell me you did not just let me do that. Tell me you aren’t a fucking virgin.”

“You should have said something.” His voice is controlled, but he’s shaking. I can feel his heart hammering away beneath his ribcage again, just like the night of the party, sitting on top of the Charger. “You shouldn’t—I shouldn’t—” he says, correcting himself, but I cut him off. “Don’t. Please don’t. Just kiss me, for god’s sake. You’re making it weird.” “Carrie. This is not how you’re supposed to lose your fucking virginity!”

Kissing Dash is like drinking from a vial of poison.

“You still want me then?” He lets out a pained burst of laughter, shaking his head. “Fuck, Carrie.”

Of course I fucking want you. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my entire life.

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.”

For three years, I walked the hallways and classrooms of this academy without ever noticing her once. Now, Carina Mendoza is all I can see.

And despite how this whole thing might look and feel to you…I don’t want to hurt you, love.”

“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.”

I want anything and everything that makes her Carrie. I want her smile. Her laughter. I want the way she frowns when she’s staring off into the distance, thinking about something.

So, I kiss her, and I mean it more than I’ve ever fucking meant anything in my life.

“Holy shit, Carrie. You are the most incredible thing I have ever seen.”

She’s everything good in the world.

“My darkest fantasy…has always been you.”

when I’m not with Carina, I spend every moment looking for her. I scan the sea of students’ faces as they pass me by, waiting for one of them to finally be hers.

“Jesus Christ.” He sounds stunned. “What the hell have you done to me? I’m never this…this…” He pauses. Regroups. Then, he takes hold of my hand and places it over the center of his chest, so I can feel the erratic thrum of his heart. “I am never this.”

“Hi,” he says quietly. “Hi.” He smiles—the most open, genuine smile I’ve ever witnessed on his face,

“Yes,” he answers. No artifice or arrogance. “It feels good to be seen by you.”

“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.” He smirks softly, acknowledging my eyeroll but not giving in to it. “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. I need you so fucking bad.”

“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.”

“God, you really are something.” He kisses me. “I keep waiting for this to become normal. But you’re too fucking much. I feel like I can’t catch my breath around you.”

“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.”

“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 love you, too, Dash. God, I tried not to fall for you, but I couldn’t stop. I can’t live without you now.” I love you, too.

Now, she’s all I’ll ever need.

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.

My eyes lock, refusing to look anywhere else, when I see the title Dash wrote on the piece of sheet music that sits on the very top of the stack. I can’t even blink. Stellaluna.