Wrath

“Excuse me?”

“Forget it. I don’t even care. I just came here to tell you to stay away from me.” She didn’t touch him, or look at him, just stood next to him, facing the gaping hole at the head of the mines.The industrial processing complex stood several yards away. This entrance must have been a remnant from an even earlier era, one of pickaxes and rickety wooden machinery. It had once been boarded up with plywood and barbed wire, but the wood had rotted away, and the torn, frayed strands of the jagged wire climbed haphazardly over the entrance like vines. It would be easy enough to slip inside.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard what they found in your locker,” she snapped. “You think I’m too stupid to see what that means?”

“You think that crap was mine?”

“What else am I supposed to think?”

Reed shrugged. “Whatever. Do what you want. Get out of here. I won’t follow you.”

He began to walk away, toward the entrance to the mines.The dark, hulking mouth of the tunnel loomed over him. It reminded her of a carnival haunted house, but with no safeguards to stop the roof from crashing down.

“Where are you going?” she asked, grabbing his shoulder. “Are you crazy?”

“Maybe.” He turned back to her. “What do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“Hey-” He grabbed her shoulders, and she felt a moment of panic but resolved not to let it show. “I don’t know what’s going on with you or what’s got you so mad, especially when you’re the one who… I know there’s some other guy, and-”

“And that’s it, right?” She tore out of his grasp and started hitting at his chest. “I cheated on you, and that makes me a slut, right? A whore? Go screw yourself. You don’t scare me.” Her voice was rising, but she couldn’t help herself. “Do you hear me? You. Don’t. Scare. Me.”

He grabbed at her hands, and she swatted him away until finally he grasped them both and held them still. “I don’t want to scare you,” he said softly, intensely. “Look at me. Look at me,” he insisted as she stared resolutely over his shoulder.

Finally, Kaia gave in and met his dark eyes. She shivered, still feeling the irresistible pull to give in, to fall against him and forget herself. She leaned in, hating herself, but hating him more. Then she stopped, just before their lips touched. He was so close that when he spoke, she could feel the movement of his lips even before she heard his words.

“I need you,” he whispered. “I need you to believe me.”

Remember the car, Kaia told herself, remember the flowers, and the photos. She breathed in and out, aware only of his strong hands wrapped around hers, and the dark locks of hair framing his bottomless eyes. She wanted things to be different; but Kaia had given up on fairy tales long ago-you couldn’t make something true just by wishing for it. You couldn’t turn a frog into a prince just by giving him one last kiss.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered back, pulling away. “I can’t.”

He didn’t say anything as she walked away, nor did he follow. She got into the BMW and leaned her head back against the cool leather headrest. Maybe now it could finally be over.

Reed had turned his back on her, and was striding toward the entrance of the mines. Kaia sat behind the steering wheel, one hand on the ignition key, one hand clenched into a fist, unable to stop watching as he swung one leg over the barbed wire, then another, then ducked beneath the rotted wooden boards and disappeared into the dark.

“Sorry about before,” Kane said as they walked out of the restaurant together.

“Before? Oh, you mean when you pulled off that great magic trick, turning into a giant asshole before my very eyes?” But Miranda asked the question without rancor; she knew she should have been disgusted by Kane s treatment of Beth, and was a bit disgusted with herself for not caring more. Instead, she’d made excuses for him: He’d been hurt, was just lashing back-and the saddest thing of all was that the prospect of him still harboring feelings for Beth was what upset her the most. Someone else might have mistaken his cruelty for anger, but Miranda recognized it for what it was; and if he still felt that way about Beth, there seemed no hope he’d ever look in her direction. No matter how much time they spent together, it suddenly seemed likely that Miranda was only imagining the possibility it could ever be anything more. Just because you talked yourself into believing in something didn’t make it true.

“Actually, I was apologizing for stepping on your foot back there,” Kane said, laughing, “but let’s say it covers the asshole thing too. And, since I spoiled our afternoon, let me make it up to you.” He led her to the car and opened the door for her.

“And how are you going to do that?”

“A little fun in the sun,” he said cryptically, getting behind the wheel and pulling out of the lot. Miranda wrinkled her nose in confusion, but said nothing as they followed a familiar route, finally pulling back into the school parking lot.

“Didn’t you say something about fun?” she asked as they came to a stop.

“Trust me.” He got out and went around to the back of the Camaro, pulling a basketball out of the trunk. Miranda gaped at him in horror.

“No. No way. Are you kidding me?”

“Stevens, I am about to do you the biggest favor of your life,” he promised, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the rickety outdoor court set up on the opposite end of the parking lot.

Miranda hated sports. She hated everything about them: the running, the jumping, the sweating, the terror when she caught the ball, the humiliation when she missed it. The last thing she wanted to do was subject herself to all of that in front of Kane, object of her deepest and darkest desires.

But he was tugging her along and giving her that boyish grin she couldn’t resist. He was holding her hand.

“I’m not sure I see where the favor part comes in,” she said skeptically as he began bouncing the ball against the concrete pavement. “Unless you’re about to clue me in on how to get out of gym for the rest of my life.”

“Better.” He tossed the ball casually toward the basket, turning away a moment before it swooshed through the net. “Stevens, I’m about to show you the surefire way to any guy’s heart.” He grabbed the rebound and tossed it toward her; she hoped she didn’t look like too much of an idiot when it slipped out of her hands and rolled away.

“Basketball is the key to any guy’s heart?”

“Basketball, baseball, whatever-no guy wants some girlie-girl who’s going to get all mushy when it comes to sports,” Kane explained, chasing the ball and tossing it back to her.This time, she caught it. “Football works, too, though.” A slow smile spread across his face. “Especially the tackling.”

Miranda threw the ball toward the basket as hard as she could-it arced back down to the ground long before coming anywhere near the net. “So this is all for my own good?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“You’re just helping me out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Shocking, isn’t it?”

“And it’s got nothing to do with the fact that you missed practice today and you’re just looking for an excuse to get out on the court?”

Kane stopped dribbling and turned to stare at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”

Miranda shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Kane jogged over and handed her the ball. He placed both hands on her waist, turning her around to face the basket. Miranda tried to keep her breathing steady and ignore the fact that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. He reached around her, arranging her hands into a shooting position while murmuring soft instructions in her ear.

“Like this… no, a little higher… use your right hand to balance it… bend your knees…” When she was set up exactly as he wanted, he stepped away, instructing her to freeze in position. It wasn’t too difficult; Miranda hoped never to move again, the better to remember every place he’d touched her.

“Most girls wouldn’t do this, you know.”