Lovely Vicious

Is this the end of it, then? The end of our battle of wits?

Has he won?

“Here,” I slip him the envelope of money. “Two hundred, as agreed.”

He looks up at me. His icy eyes betray nothing of what he’s thinking, or feeling. I can’t tell if he regrets what he said yesterday at all. He’s an infuriating block of ice. He reaches over and counts the bills. Satisfied, he slips it in his pocket.

“If she kisses me, it’s an extra twenty-five. If she tries to sleep with me, I’m leaving.”

“Are we even talking about the same Kayla? Kayla’s timid and virginal as hell. She won’t even look at your crotch, let alone go near it. Which, in my opinion, is an obscenely good call, considering the only things that come from that anatomical area are more or less disgusting monsters.”

“You seem better.”

I scoff. “You don’t know what better looks like.”

“You’re chipper enough to crack jokes. But then again, jokes are like armor for you, aren’t they? Easy to hide behind. Easy to distract people with so they don’t see how you’re really feeling.”

“I’m going to be over there –” I ignore him and point at a distant table, half-hidden by birds-of-paradise. “And I’m going to watch your every move to make sure everything goes well tonight.”

“Technically I’m working,” He says. “Your vigilance is u

“Oh, I’m sure you do.”

I get up and go to the table and order a Sprite. Kayla arrives ten minutes later, and I feel my jaw do a little drop. Her dark hair is combed to perfection, shining in the light and curled over one shoulder. She wears a strapless, bright green dress that compliments her bronzed shoulders, and her black heels accentuate her long legs. Her eye are bright and smudged with beautiful smoky makeup, her lips a dewy, pearly pink. She spots Jack and flushes, shoulders tingeing pink as she glides over. She’s a picture-perfect doll, an incredible work of art, the kind of girl poets and writers flip their shit over and write fever-dream books about. Even Jack – Jack, the king of the stone-faced and icy-hearted – looks stu

No wonder Wren’s got a crush! Look at her! She’s a perfect goddess! But Wren’s a good guy so I’m sure it’s not all tits and ass with him. He sees how smart she is. Um. Smart at things that aren’t school! Like, lipstick! I’ve seen her identify a lipstick just by smelling it! And she can touch her tongue to her elbow, and she makes incredible brownies, but honestly the only thing you need to know how to make when you look like that is pee and carbon monoxide –

“Ma’am,” I feel a light tap on my shoulder. My waitress smiles at me, pained. “You’re, uh, disturbing the other customers.”

An old couple and a family is glaring at me. Kayla and Jack are on the other side of the room, and they aren’t looking back, so I’m okay, but I quickly whisper.

“Wow sorry, I was fabulously thinking aloud again, I do that a lot, look, could you get me the noodles? This noodle thingy right here?” I point at the menu. “Thanks, wow. Sorry. But it was probably fabulous so I’m not really sorry though, but still, sorry.”

The waitress scuttles away, and I make a shooing motion at the old couple who’re still glaring.

“Don’t you have something to better to work on?” I hiss. “Like golfing or eating prunes or dying?”

The old lady looks shocked.

“Okay, sorry, not dying. But seriously, prunes are good for you.”

I peer at Kayla through the leaves. I can see the side of her face, and it’s practically glowing. They’ve ordered, and while they wait they stir their drinks and Jack asks her questions. Kayla talks excitedly, using her hands, and Jack watches with an intense concentration so unlike his usual boredom. He smiles gently when she says something fu

Does Sophia know, I wonder? Her letter said she knows he works, but has he told her he escorts? He obviously gives the money he makes to the hospital for Sophia’s bills, which makes me think her parents aren’t in the picture at all, and I know for a fact government funding for sick minors is tight. He’s so good at being…well…good. He’s done this escorting thing for a long time. If Sophia knew where the money was coming from, I’m sure she’d make him stop. But he can’t afford to stop, can he? Her sickness is bad, and according to Avery, only getting worse. Jack wants to provide her with the best care. He really likes her. Loves her.

The food arrives, and they eat and talk. My own food comes shortly after and I shovel noodles into my mouth while watching them. Kayla’s happier than I’ve ever seen her. Jack is being patient and humorous and gentle, everything Kayla wants him to be. He’s mirroring her. It’s not the real him, but she’s so in love with it she can’t see that.

It’s sad.

Maybe that’s why Jack’s eyes look a little sad.

Or maybe he’s thinking of Sophia, how much he wishes it was her across the table instead.

After di

“So?” He asks.

“It’s good.” I nod. “You’re doing good. It’s a little disturbing how good you’re doing, actually.”

“I told you not to doubt me.”

“Never did. I just know you don’t respect people.”

“I do. If they pay me.”

I laugh. “Jesus, you’re a piece of work.”

“And you’re not? I’ve never met a more stubborn, jaded, cynical girl in my life.”

“It’s true. I’m very special.”

He scoffs, but something in his eyes eases. For a split second, he’s the gentle, patient Jack as he says;

“You are.”

And then he’s leaning in, mint and shaving cream and coconut milk from whatever he ate, and he brushes his thumb over my stu

“What the – ” He murmurs, looking at his hands like they don’t belong to him. “Forget what I just did. Just – just forget it. You had something on your lip.”

I watch in miraculous horror as Jack Hunter, Ice Prince of East Summit High, turns a soft shade of red, his cheeks blossoming with it.

“Are you…are you blushing?” I whisper.

“No! Can’t you feel the air temperature? It’s ridiculously hot!” He snaps. “I’m leaving and finishing the job. Stay and watch if you want, I don’t care.”

He’s angry. And it’s not cold anger – it’s hot and instant and boils up and over his icy eyes and marble-perfect lips. He shoves out the door and stalks back to the table. I wait a few minutes, and then go back to mine. He’s smiling again, but his face is still a little red, and his laughter is louder and more savage than it was. Kayla doesn’t seem to mind, though. They go through almond ice cream with some kind of cookie in it. Kayla tries to feed him, but he refuses and shoots a look at my table that says ‘if you make me eat that from her fingers it will cost more’. I shake my head and he goes back to politely rejecting it.

Save for the little tantrum he threw in the bathroom, (Jack Hunter! Tantrum! The words are opposites!) everything’s been going great. Kayla hasn’t cried or ran away once. And as Jack pays the bill and offers Kayla his arm and she laces hers in his, I get the distinct feeling it’s been the best night of her life. I pay my bill and wait, watching them out the window. They stand on the sidewalk, immersed in the golden glow of a lamppost above. Kayla is leaning into his arm, and she looks up and asks him something. He goes still, pauses, and then leans down to kiss her. It’s slow and soft, and she melts into him. They look perfect – two beautiful people on a date, kissing beautifully. Usually people look like pigs half-mashed into each other, all slobber and tongue, but Jack and Kayla are too pretty for that. It looks like a movie. It looks like they’ll walk off into the sunset to live happily ever after.