Mallory and I settle into a booth at some quaint café in uptown. It's full of Coca-Cola product and everything is red or black. It's pretty cool and plays decent eighties music from a jukebox. I didn't even know those things were still around in such great shape.

"Where have you been since the party?" I venture attentively.

"Laying low. I don't want Cassie to think I had anything to do with Reynold showing up. He's her ex and the guy Bailey caught her making out with."

"That's what Bailey said," I egg her on after we order milkshakes.

Mallory eyes me and I can't tell if it is suspicion, "I don't know how much she cared for him, but Reynold actually had sex with her. A little attention from him, and she was all over him," Mallory titters triumphantly, "and obviously you need time to lay down some groundwork with Bailey. I thought he would need time to trust you, but like I thought, that boy is obsessed with you."

"He is not obsessed," I groan, though it feels like he is and I am absolutely reveling in it, "Did you come up with something new or something? What's the plan now?"

"Fuck if I know," Mallory laughs and thanks the waitress for our milkshakes, "I honestly am surprised we got this far. We need to think of something good."

"You have zero faith in me," I narrow my eyes at her, sipping the chocolate banana milkshake.

"Cassie is going down..." Mallory assures me, slurping the cherry Cola milkshake, "I just don't know if Bailey is going down with her."

I shrug and relax next to her, "let's focus on Cassie and give Bailey some time to fall in love with me."

Mallory smirks like she sees through my act, "sure, Max. Let's give Bailey some time to fall in love. In the meantime, we need to do something big and I just haven't been able to come up with anything."

"We need to undermine her authority among the other students. What makes her queen?"

"She's rich for starters."

"We can't exactly take her money away."

"No," Mallory sighs, swigging the milkshake, "she is good with blackmail and shit. We should find some dirt on her."

"That will help us, but we have to strip down her authority," I remind Mallory to stay on track.

Mallory taps her chin, "what do you think makes someone popular?"

"Our school is different. We have a lot of popular people, but Cassie is elite. There's a difference."

"She's popular and a bully," Mallory agrees, wiping her mouth, "this milkshake is really fucking good."

"I could use a break from all this planning and fake dating," I push the half-finished milkshake away.

"Fake dating?"

"He thinks we're dating."

"Right... But you don't think you're dating?"

I roll my eyes, "it's all part of the plan, Mal."

"You want a break?" She resumes my original statement, "what kind of break? We just got started with him."

"My head won't turn off and I'm not sleeping," I divulge, rubbing my temples.

"That kiss you and Bailey shared sure was hot. It needs to happen a lot or no one is going to buy it, though," Mallory raises an eyebrow, "did you two like practice for that?"

"We kiss a lot because he thinks we're together," I say slowly as if she needs it spelled out, but secretly I do enjoy our practicing.

"How is he?" Mallory leans forward greedily.

"What?"

"He has really nice lips. He must be a phenomenal kisser."

I blush unable to hide it, "well, yeah, he's fucking great at that part. He tastes like Skittles somehow. I don't think I've ever seen him eat them before."

"I think it's some gum he chews," Mallory frowns, "Cassie said the same thing."

My stomach churns as Mallory brings up Cassie, reminding me that she had her tongue in his mouth. It shouldn't bother me, but it infuriates me that she had something real with him. He may not have wanted it, but it wasn't a fake relationship. It was a forced one, but it was definitely real compared to the one I have with him.

What the fuck am I doing?

You're being stupid.

"He always liked it when she wore her cheerleading uniform. I think all guys enjoy that, but it was the only time she had on tennis shoes like a tomboy."

"Oh, right," I recall her saying Bailey likes tomboys.

"Oh my gosh, Max! That's it! It's been staring us right in the fucking face this whole time!"

"What?" I can't even act interested, but I'm caught off guard.

"She's a cheerleader. That gives her all sorts of power and popularity with the student body."

Oh, I see where she's going now, "can we really get her kicked of the squad?"

Mallory is fascinated, "that's a fine place to start, isn't it?"

💀

At home, Dad glares at me from his place at the table. Bailey texted he is having trouble at home with his dad, so he asked me to come by later. I wish I didn't always have to go to him, but I definitely don't want him coming by here.

"What's wrong with it?" I dare to ask.

"It's crunchy for starters," he growls.

I didn't get all the noodles covered with the sauce before sticking it in the oven to bake, so some of the pasta does crunch. It's not that it's uncooked or that it even tastes bad. Dad just always has to find something wrong with dinner.

"That happens sometimes."

"What was that!" He slams his fists into the table, letting his fork fly across the table and almost stab me in the arm.

"Shit..." I flinch out of the way.

"Young lady!" He's on his feet and crowding me before I have the chance to realize the word that left my mouth, "how fucking dare you speak to me so disrespectfully!"

His hand jams against my throat, sliding up to my jawline and he lifts me out of my seat. I claw at his hand, fretfully as my feet dangle and I choke for oxygen. Swinging my good leg, I manage to weasel free of his unbearably constricted hold and crash hard down into my chair, flailing to the floor.

"Ow," I grunt, rubbing my jaw.

"Get the fuck out of my sight!" He points toward the stairs.

Using the table to get up, I heave my good leg under me and shove up. Dad's hands abruptly clamp into my shoulders and he wrenches me back, cackling. My body flails for a surface and then he smashes me into the table, the casserole dish bruising my back. A rib slips on the edge of the dish and almost cracks under the pressure. I rake hands at his arms, but he just pins me until I fall motionless, wheezing.

"I'm going to outlive your sorry excuse for a life and then I'll have nowhere to put all my anger! I should have someone get you pregnant just so I have another part of you here to toss around and blame for you killing your mother!"

Tears spring to my eyes and sail down my cheeks. Dad chortles at my weakness, jerking me up and shoving me toward the stairs. I manage to catch myself on the wall before stumbling up the stairs, coddling my left knee.

It's not till I am locked in my room that I realize I left my phone in my bag. My bag is downstairs by the front door. Bailey is supposed to text me when I can come over, and now I'll never get the message. It's not safe to go back downstairs tonight. I might get away with a shower, but I'll have to at least wait an hour.

I uncinch the knee brace and let it clunk to the floor, and strip down to my underwear. I slip off my bra and pull on some small charcoal pajama shorts and an over-sized green T-shirt.

Curling up on the bed, I stare at the wall and try not to drown in the pain of my body. I squeeze a pillow to my chest, waiting for enough time to pass to take a shower. I need to wash out my hair after landing in the food.

💀

A few hours pass before Dad falls quiet downstairs. A game booms on the TV in the den and I hope that means he passed out after several beers. I grab my shower bag and move through the hall quickly. I rush through a shower, scrubbing my skin raw and shaving meticulously.

Hastily, I pat dry and lather lotion into my skin. I tug into my over-sized T-shirt and shorts. I brush out my hair with some leave-in conditioner and braid it down my left shoulder. The bruise on my cheek is barely present from where Cassie smacked my face into an open locker. I can only imagine what my back looks like at this point.

Quietly inching the bedroom door shut, I stare into the darkness of the hallway. The TV clicks off and I hear Dad moving around. Then he creaks along the floor and goes into his room. I flip the lock on my door and breathe out in relief.

A strange scrape alerts me and I whirl around to find a figure in my open window, letting in the cool air of early autumn. The smell of leather hits my nostrils before a shriek slips out. Then I make out his baby blues piercing through the dimness of my room.

Bailey.

Holy shit.

I breathe out in relief as he closes the window, keeping the cold out.

"What the fuck happened?" He growls turning to face me.

"I-I... My phone is downstairs."

"Did he take it from you?" He fidgets by the window.

"I forgot it and... We got into a fight," I stroke my hair down my shoulder uncertainly, trembling.

Bailey closes the space between us and pulls me into his arms, "are you shaking, baby? Did he hurt you?"

"I-I'm fine," my voice wavers, betraying me.

"Liar," he steers me to my bed and eases me down, "you're not crying, so that's good..." He lets his hand slide over my left knee without the brace, tracing the surgical scars, "does your knee hurt after Cassie attacked you today?"

"It always hurts."

"You weren't answering my texts and I started to get pissed," Bailey stands abruptly, "apparently getting mad at you means I'm worrying about you. That's what my mom said anyway. She told me to drop by and check on you."

"Oh." I knew he wouldn't be here because he wanted to be.

"I mean... I wanted to check on you, but I didn't want to appear like I'm obsessed or something."

"You are obsessed," I try to tease, but actually sound serious.

"Maybe a little," he laughs lightly, "do you mind if I stay with you for a while?"

"I would like that," I confess, laying back.

Bailey straightens and strips down to his boxers, revealing chiseled abs. I selfishly stare at him and let his abs distract me from my sore back. He relaxes next to me, careful about my knee and curls around me. I indulge him by resting my head on his chest and he strokes my hair down arm.

"I don't think I've seen you in just a T-shirt before."

"I'm wearing shorts," I lift my baggy shirt to prove it.

Bailey lifts his head and his eyes fall on the white, shriveled scars on my inner thighs.

Oh, shit.

He sits up brusquely, skimming fingers down my right thigh and then pulls my knee up against his propped legs. Tingles buzz through me as he brushes fingertips up the inside of my thigh. He doesn't flirt with the material of the shorts, but traces the scars on my leg. I gulp back the frazzled nerves, but it doesn't relieve the compression building in my chest.

"What are these?"

"Umm... They're old, okay?"

"Old? What are they, Max?" He's serious and it's terrifying.

I blink hard, "they're burn marks."

"From what?" His hand goes motionless.

"A lighter."

His eyes flash to me blazing with rage, "you did this to yourself? Are you fucking stupid?"

I cover my face as tears brim my eyes. I do not want to cry right now. I don't want to have to explain this to him. Today has been hard enough trying to make sense of every little touch from him, dealing with Cassie and Mallory, and then Dad's beating. I can't take this conversation, too.

"Max. Baby," Bailey pries my hands away and slopes over me, dipping his cheek against mine, "I'm sorry... You aren't stupid. But why would you do that to yourself?"

I don't know what else to say, "b-bad... Bad things happen."

"Fuck... I know," He gingerly caresses the sore side of my face with his hand, "I want to take it all away for you, baby."

"W-what?"

He lifts his head to look into my emerald eyes, "I want to erase every bad memory you have and replace it with me."

He can't possibly think he can erase every bad memory I have. Does he really think he can fill up all my time, making me happy? Why would he do that? He wants to prove I can trust him, but he's already done that. I don't understand what all this is about for him. He doesn't need to get back at Cassie for anything.

"Can I kiss you, baby?"

"You don't have to ask me that."

Bailey's mouth collides with mine as if he's famished and I'm the only thing to revive him. His tongue slides over mine, tasting of Skittles. He rocks against me instantly, pressing his hardening length into my side and grasping at my waist. I whimper with need, but too afraid to let him take it that far.

"Are you okay?" He moves his mouth down my neck.

"I don't want you to stop," I confess, "but... I can't let this... Umm..." I'm not sure I remember, "this can't be sex... Right now."

"It doesn't have to be," his mouth is hot on my earlobe, "I just want to make you feel better, Max."

"You can just hold me..." I hiss as he grazes his teeth down my neck, nipping at my skin playfully, "holy shit..."

"Do you like that?"

"Y-yes."

"You can stop me whenever you want, Max," his hands glide my shirt up, but he stops below my breasts, "I just want to feel your skin on me." He presses his bare abs against mine, "you're so soft, baby. I love the way your body quivers for me."

Bailey returns his mouth to mine and my nerves settle. One hand grasps around the back of his neck and the other tangles in his thick, silky tendrils. He groans into my mouth and I eat it up, moaning in return. Bailey smiles and skims one hand past my hips, carefully guiding my left leg out and then running fingers over my shorts.

"Is this okay?" His explores the seam at my center, "you can tell me to stop, Max."

"Please don't stop," I beg.

"Fuck, baby," his lips graze my jaw and he suctions below my chin, "do you know what you do to me when you beg?"

"Mm, what?" I greedily spoil him.

His hand disappears from my shorts and takes my hand from his neck. He palms my hand against his pulsing dick trapped in his boxers and shows me how to rub it. Grunting, he returns his own hand to my center, and gingerly slips past my shorts, discovering how wet my panties are.

"Jesus, Max," he thrusts against my side, pushing fingers hard into my clit through my soaked panties, "I love that I have this effect on you. I want you so bad, baby. You can stop me..."

"Stop saying that," I demand, tugging on his hair and tightening my grip on his dick, "what are you going to do?"

"You don't want sex yet..." His smile is smug, but his twinkling blue eyes make me brave, "I can make you cum another way."

"R-really?"

"Are you okay with my hand on you?"

"Y-yeah," I mutter breathlessly, "I-I... I've never..."

"Never?" He pauses before digging past my underwear, "I can stop, baby. We can wait..."

"For fuck's sake, Bay, don't stop now..." I slide his boxers down and grasp his hot skin in my bare hand, "Jesus..." I glance down to take in the size of him, "are fucking kidding me, Bay?"

"What's the problem, baby?" He shudders at the skin-on-skin contact, letting eyelashes beat swiftly.

"That is never going to fit inside me... I mean when... You know what I mean," I am melting and sweat puddles on my stomach.

Bailey smothers his mouth against my neck to silence a laugh, "I will fit, Max. I promise. If you're always this wet for me... I'll just have to take my time."