Pretty Reckless (All Saints High, #1)

by L.J. Shen

And while I’m his hobby, he is turning out to be my…everything. My solace. My good part. My favorite thing about life.

“Adriana is not a factor here. She’s a permanent fixture in my life that has nothing to do with you. You…” He fists the collar of my cardigan and jerks me to his face. “You’re the best temporary treat I’ve had in a while.”

“It would be a pleasure to prove to you just how little you mean to me.”

“You playing nice with Via doesn’t go unnoticed.”

“Smells like my brother in here.”

“Ech.” She sticks her tongue out. “That thing was fucking disgusting. No thank you. I don’t know how you deal with that woman. She is so submissive. It was a huge turnoff back then, but it’s a total nuisance nowadays.”

My mouth goes slack. Did she actually just talk about my mother like that? The woman who invested more in her than in her own daughter? The woman who fought tooth and nail to bring her back? Who housed her? Who freaking jeopardized her relationship with my father and me—both of us guarded by nature—just to save her?

“As I said before, you can’t date my brother. Correction—you can’t even fuck my brother. You’re just a piece of ass for him, and even though you have zero self-respect, I’m here to tell you that even you can do better. Adriana would never let it happen, and she is the girl he’ll eventually marry and take to college with him. She gave birth to his kid, for crying out loud. Stop embarrassing yourself and finish this stupid thing with him. Today.”

Knight passes Colin the joint he just meticulously rolled using my mascara wand.

Now I have my own admission. The truth is clogging my throat, and the alcohol begs for me to let it loose. It’s a confession. A difficult one. But one that would make her let go of her inhibitions and guilt, and maybe start building a strong bridge to cross that gulf.

Love is so much uglier than hate because when you hate, you’re not confused. When you’re in love, you’re dumb.

“Nah. I have some unfinished business with your spawn’s friends.” I bite off a callus from my palm and spit the dead skin on the ground.

“Do you love her?” Dean Cole’s voice makes me stop dead in place.

I don’t know how he knows. I don’t know if that means Jaime and Mel know, too. And I have no idea why my face feels so hot. All I do know is that now’s not the time to think about this question.

“It’s just harmless fun.” “Harmless for who?” he calls as I resume my way to the Followhills’. For me...

Gus laughs. I peek behind the pool house and watch him boomerang a loaded ashtray into the pool.

“All my firsts,” she chokes out brokenly. “You stole all of them.”

It’s Vaughn. “Not on my face this time,” the girl purrs, giggling with her mouth full of him. Daria groans. “Esme.”

“Missed me?” I use my thumb to wipe my blood along her lower lip. She licks it without hesitation, her eyes on me.

I produce the sea glass necklace from my pocket and put it on her. She gasps when the orange sea glass hits her delicate rib cage, and her chest caves.

I can’t bear her vulnerability because it seems real, and I can’t think of her as real. Even if she is genuine, this can never work out. Even if I don’t give a damn about what Jaime and Mel think, Daria does although she would die denying it. And her parents will never be okay with us being together. Not to mention the hell Via is going to give me. But before all of this can even materialize, there is also the Adriana and Principal Prichard mess to sort out, and nothing promises me that Daria won’t get cold feet about telling her precious rich friends she’s dating the token charity case.

“It felt so lonely without you,” I admit.

It feels like goodbye, and I don’t like how it tastes.

Something that gives my tin man, half-functioning heart a reason to break. She didn’t come back for me.

“I can’t believe you fell for her, Penn.”

“If you don’t break up with her, I am moving back with Dad. It’s been horrible there, but at least I feel like I have some sort of family. They mean well, even if their way of life is all wrong. I can’t be here, among strangers, with a brother who is in love with my archenemy, the girl who ruined my future. Why should I stick around for a guy who helped Daria Followhill get rid of my acceptance letter to the Royal Academy? That’s why I left, Penn. Now watch as I hitchhike back to Mississippi. Just pray I won’t be raped and beaten to death this time around. And before you ask if I mean it—please remember, I did it four years ago, when I was much younger and even more helpless.”

“If you don’t break up with her, I’ll tell her mother, friends, and everyone she cares about what she did to me. We both know they love her but don’t like her one bit. All they need is a little push to make Daria become a reject, and I’m more than happy to shove. It will be a spectacular fall. But if you do as I say, her secret’s safe with me.”

“You don’t want me with Followhill? Stay the fuck away from Gus.”

“Put some clothes on, Daria. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“What the hell, Penn?” “Nothing. I got what I wanted from you, and you got what you wanted from me. Time to cut the bullshit.”

But that’s the old Daria. The one who pretends she doesn’t care about losing things. The new Daria? She doesn’t want to lose him.

“I’m bored of you, and it ain’t worth the risk. Your parents are going to kick our asses if they find out. Besides, you have Prichard, and I have Adriana.” He scratches his barely existing struggle with the back of his hand. “Game over.”

But I am hopelessly, tragically in love with Penn Scully.

“Because of Harper, okay?” he snaps, kicking the velvet sofa. “I’m never going to leave Addy. Much less for your spoiled ass. She’s coming with me to college. Grow some self-respect and give it a rest.”

“You’ll be all right, Followhill.”

There is nothing more poetically inspiring Than loving the right person At the wrong place At the wrong time

She is erasing my last kiss with Daria.

My eyes pause on Notre Dame’s symbol. My dream college. The one thing I worked for.

“Is it about my daughter?” “Which one?” I raise an eyebrow. “The legal one, bastard.” I smile. I don’t lie to him because I can’t. Because he deserves fucking better than that.

“Choose your sister.” “Sir?” “Choose her. Don’t choose Daria. You’ll end up giving her less than she deserves. And my daughter deserves everything. Not half of it. Not a quarter. And definitely not messy. Let her go. Unless, of course…”

“Unless?” “You love Daria. Then I do not allow you, under any fucking circumstances, to break both your hearts because Sylvia still holds a grudge.”

“Do you know what colleges Daria is looking into?” I swallow. He throws his head back and laughs before shaking his head. I guess we’re all too transparent for our own good. Jaime yanks the door open and walks in. “So screwed, Scully. So goddamn screwed.”

I initiate a conversation for the first time in months. It seems like a big deal to me because I’ve been so reluctant to talk to her. I’ve been avoiding it like the plague for what seems like months.

“Hey, Melody,” I holler at them as they run the length of the hallway toward the elevators, trying to catch one that’s sliding closed. “You—” “Not now, Daria!” She shares a laugh with the girls, disappearing between the closing doors of the elevator. Daria. She is Melody, and I am Daria. Mom and Lovebug are officially dead.

Behind every untrusting girl is a boy who made her that way

“What do you want?” I hiss. I feel so breakable in his arms. “A kiss.” I push on his chest. He is not making any sense. “Drop dead, Scully.” It actually looks like he might.

“I always knew you would be your own downfall. You were so pretty and perfect with your shiny hair and long lashes. So conceited and entitled with your crazy lineage, ex-teacher mom, and Hothole father. Sometimes, at night, I had to cry myself to sleep, convincing myself that you would fall, because it didn’t look like you ever would. And let’s admit it.”

“The cheer captain title always belonged to me. I’m the better dancer. I’m a better leader, better mediator, the better human being.”

Everything I have is crumbling. Everything I’ve worked for is perishing.

Over the years, he barked at me to rearrange the shelves in his office, clean his carpets, shine his shoes, and more recently, after Penn entered the picture, he’d strike the inside of my hands with a ruler. Where the red welts could be explained away by my grueling cheer workouts.