Chapter 1: Cole’s Playground
1505 Words
The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was that I didn't know where the hell I was.
Not unusual for me.
The ceiling above me was painted some shade of cream that had long ago given up trying to look expensive. There was a dreamcatcher hanging lopsided from the corner, dust clinging to its feathers. My head pounded like someone had used it as a drum last night. I reached for my phone on the nightstand-- except it wasn't my nightstand. Just a cluttered table stacked with lip gloss tubes, empty vape cartridges, and a photo frame turned face down.
Next to me, a girl stirred. Blonde, half-asleep, tangled in sheets that smelled like too much perfume and stale tequila. Her makeup had smeared during the night, leaving her with raccoon eyes. She clung to me with the kind of familiarity you only earn after three dates. We'd had zero. It's like I was her boyfriend and not the guy whose name she probably couldn't remember.
I smirked at the thought.
Cole St. James: bad habit personified.
Sliding out of bed, I pulled on my jeans, careful not to wake her. Not because I cared. Because I didn't. That's the trick--you leave before they start asking questions like-- Will you text me? Do you want to hang out again? What are we? We're two ghosts who bumped shoulders in the dark and kept walking. That's it.
Jeans on. Hoodie over my head. Wallet and lighter, check. Tattoos peeking out at the wrists as I tugged my sleeves. Black ink coiled over my forearms--snakes, roses, a busted compass I got on a dare a year ago. People always ask if the ink means something deep. It doesn't. It's armor. It keeps people looking at my skin so they don't look past it.
Outside, the morning city noise was already on eleven. I lit a cigarette, letting the smoke burn my lungs until I could pretend it felt like peace. Checking my phone, I scrolled through my camera roll from last night: blurry selfies, girls kissing my cheek, a video of me chugging straight vodka on a table while a crowd cheered. Wherever I went, the party bent around me. I didn't even have to try.
By the time I got back to my apartment, Jax and Theo had already colonized my couch. I spent the afternoon with them, skipping school. They were my boys--loud, stupid, loyal. We'd been running together since high school.
As the evening rolled in, my phone buzzed with a call I couldn't ignore.
It was Serena.
She was sobbing, her voice breaking down into breathless hitches as she told me she needed me. Serena was my only exception. The only girl I did repeats with, the only one who had a standing pass to bypass my rules.
I headed straight to her place. When I got there, she was a wreck, explaining through tears that her parents were at each other's throats again. They were getting a divorce and now they were fighting over who gets custody of her like she was a piece of property.
“I have no one, Cole” she cried, clinging to me, accusing me through her tears that even I was never there when she really needed me.
"I'm here now," I told her softly. I didn't want to break her heart any further by reminding her not to expect me to always show up-- because I wasn't her boyfriend and never would be.
She squeezed her eyes shut, pleading with me not to ever leave her. I held back. I had told her that I didn't want things to look like I was just using her.
Okay, I was-- the s*x hit different than with the other girls. But that's not the point. The point is that Serena never listens. I don't know if she can't read between the lines or if she's simply ignoring it-- the fact that I don't want her-- WANT HER.
"I need you, Cole. I f*****g need you." She kept pushing, whispering that she needed me, that it hurt too much and she just needed me.
She leaned up and kissed me.
I didn't resist.
But just as things started getting heated, I broke the kiss, pulling back slightly. "You need rest, Serena. Not sex."
"I need you," she insisted, her voice raw. "I need to feel you, touch you, breathe you. I want you so f*****g bad."
She kissed me again, her mouth hot against mine. In a blur of a motion she straddled my lap, sitting on top of me. She kissed me with a burning passion-- practically devouring me.
F*cking bold, Serena. Gosh, she knows how to get me hard in an instant.
I stopped fighting it. I couldn't fight it.
I always had a soft spot for her. Don't get me wrong, I don't have feelings for her-- I just... care for her.
She always reminded me of myself. But that's a topic for another day.
We slept together-- a quiet, heavy blur of skin and desperation that gave her whatever comfort she was searching for.
By 10:00 PM, Serena was fast asleep, her breathing finally even. I sneaked out of her house in silence, stepping into the cool night air.
I didn't want Serena waking up and finding me next to her. I didn't want to give her false hope. She had feelings for me, she had long made it clear. With everything she's going through, I don't want to add to her pain.
I'm a certified f*ck boy. I don’t do feelings-- I'm not capable of loving another person.
Night had fallen like it owed me money, and I went and collected. I hit a party on the north side of town. Jax and Theo were already there. Standard scene--red cups, a DJ who acted like owning a laptop made him a musician, too many bodies crammed into a house someone's parents definitely didn't know was being trashed.
Girls noticed me the second I walked in. They always did. I smiled at the attention, the trouble, and the easy way the night always unbuttons for me like it was waiting.
Within minutes, I had two girls clinging to my arms.
One in a cherry dress with a slit up her thigh, hair in bubble braids. The other in a cropped hoodie and a smile she weaponized. Both upperclassmen, both too put together for this cheap beer crowd.
"You're Cole, right?" Cherry Dress asked, tilting her head like she knew the answer. "We've met."
"We haven't," I said, and she looked both offended and more interested. "But we can fix it."
Hoodie Girl laughed, fingers tracing one of the snakes on my arm like she was coaxing it to life. "He's worse than they say."
"I'm better than they say, sweetheart," I corrected, flashing that easy grin, the one that opened doors and bedsheets.
Jax drifted past to the pong table and clapped my shoulder. "Ladies, this is a cautionary tale wearing boots."
"I'll write a thesis," Hoodie Girl said, eyes not leaving mine.
"Great," I said. "Just spell my name right."
We danced in the crowded heat, bodies pressed tight against the bass line. Their names were Kara and Lena. I filed them away in the temporary folder in my brain where I knew they wouldn't last the night. Kara tugged my hoodie string and kissed me; Lena bit my ear to claim territory. My hands knew exactly where to go, the way your fingers find a light switch in your own bedroom.
"Upstairs?" Lena breathed.
"What, both of you?" I teased, already knowing the answer.
Kara rolled her eyes like 'obviously', then leaned in, lips ghosting my jaw. "Unless you can't handle it."
I grinned. I never turn down a dare.
We slipped through the crowd, my palm on the small of Kara's back, Lena's fingers hooked through my belt loop like a promise. Jax saw us on the stairs and raised his cup.
"Untouchable!" he called, like it was my last name and my job title.
I ducked out for air sometime after midnight.
A thin, sudden emptiness sharpened as the adrenaline wore off. This is what they don't tell you about being the guy everyone wants: you start to feel like you're for everyone, which means you're for no one.
The porch was packed with the smoke-break crowd, so I stepped off the stoop and drifted across the street where the noise softened.
That's when I saw her.
Not inside the party. Not waiting at the curb for some guy to notice her.
I felt something in me that I can't quiet explain, as I looked at her.
She was f*cking gorgeous.
And as I stood there, looking at that breathtaking beauty, I had no idea that my flawless little world had just collided with a girl who would ruin me in the most beautiful way.
- Writer
