Rock Bottom Girl

by Lucy Score

To everyone who faced an Amie Jo in high school. Also, to anyone I ever Amie Jo-ed, I am so very, very sorry.

Zinnia: Welcome home, sis! Hope Mom and Dad’s retirement sex doesn’t keep you awake at night.

Dad had an uncanny knack for saying inappropriate things without ever trying. “I seem to recall you were quite adept at juggling balls in high school, snack cake,” he said cheekily. “Let’s see if you still remember how.” “Jesus, Dad. Listen to yourself.”

Or maybe—and this was an even worse theory—I just didn’t fit here…or anywhere.

There was a lone figure at the rear. He was older, more muscular. Tattooed. Sexy AF, in my humble, depressed opinion.

“Holy. Shit,” I breathed. “And that is Mr. Weston,”

I remembered her. At least,

teenage her. I’d found her…interesting. Interesting enough to plant one on her, if I recalled correctly.

But yeah, Marley s...

“I’m happy,” I argued. “You’re comfortable. That’s different.” “Potato poh-tah-toh.”

“It’s like you’re living in some kind of limbo,” he observed. “Like you’re waiting for something.”

Oh my God. I could feel my heartbeat in my head.

This had been a very stupid idea. I might die from this. I might kill one of them from this. I hoped it wasn’t one of the nice ones.

I gagged and slapped a hand over my mouth. Nope. Nope. Nope.

On paper, I was a loser. But I didn’t feel that way in my heart. I had potential.

“Nice run, Coach,” one of the girls said weakly. I think it was sarcasm. But I was too busy vomiting to respond.

“Hey, dumbass. Do you know what heat stroke is?” the gravelly voice demanded of me. I felt another slap. A slap? Someone was slapping me in the face? How dare he!

Suddenly I was airborne. Floating up, up, up. Then I was unceremoniously tossed over something hard and sweaty. I was upside-down. My ponytail hung straight down. Everything was still a blur, but was that an ass in my face? Wow. A really nice ass. Tight globes of muscle that bunched under shorts.

“Did you just bite me?” the voice demanded. Shit.

“You’re a real hot mess, you know that?” She looked up at me for the first time, and I remembered those eyes. The kind of light, warm brown that made me think of brownies and bourbon. I even remembered what they looked like one second after I’d kissed the hell out of her all those years ago. Yeah, I remember you.

“I am well aware,”

I watched them share a hug and wondered just what the hell had happened to the Marley I kissed a thousand years ago.

“How’d it go, snack cake?” Dad asked, peering into the room. “I nearly gave the team heat stroke, and then I threw up on Jake Weston’s shoes.” Dad’s eyebrows winged up.

“For being a shitty team player and having a craptastic attitude. Newsflash, you want to act like a jerk, do it at home to your parents who made you this way. Now, run.”

Our strength comes from our diversity, our willingness to change, to fight inequality, to explode scientific advancement.”

“They’re basically animals, you know? Without us, they’d be not showering and wandering around naked just licking things. We’re goddamn superheroes.”

“You’ve seen me run. I have that vomiting problem.”

“Were you prettier in high school?” I hated teenagers.

This was quite possibly the worst decision I’d ever made as an adult. Involving high school students in trespassing and vandalism. It was a wonder I wasn’t already fired.

“Okay, Weston. What’s it going to take to get you to forget you saw us here?” Vicky asked.

“You still make those salted caramel cookies?”

“Hell yeah, I do. I make ’em good.”

“Two dozen of those babies and, providing you didn’t commit a felony, your secret is probably safe ...

“You feel like you’re not as good because your sister is an extraordinary person.” “And I’m just ordinary. Only I can’t even seem to get that right.” I

“Missed you at lunch,” he said. “Are you flirting with me?” I asked.

“If you have to ask, then I’m not doing a very good job.”

Was I also still thinking about Jake telling me he was flirting with me? Yes. A lot.

She looked dejected, tired. Like someone who had been knocked down one too many times. I wanted to fix it. To work the kinks out of those slumped shoulders, tell her everything would work out.

“I may portray myself to be an upstanding adult during school hours. But I assure you, after school I’m a little rougher around the edges.”

“Nope. Don’t buy it. There’s no sign of the teenage rebel.”

“Allow me to reacquaint you...

“Oh, so you’re going to kiss me?”

Yeah, I liked this woman. She was sneaky funny, and there was something a little sad

about her. Both were my personal kryptonite when it came to women.

But I really wanted to kiss her. And I didn’t like not doing what I really wanted.

The way she responded to me was fucking mind-blowing. I was painfully aware of everything. Every breath, every tremor, every whimper that worked its way up her throat.

“Jesus, woman. Where did you learn to kiss like—”

I pushed one hand into her hair and hauled her into my lap with the other. If the kiss made me want more, this position with her sweet round ass centered on my uncomfortably hard cock made me want to set our clothes on fire and howl at the fucking moon.

“You know what I think?”

“I think you’re with the wrong guy, Mars.”