Foes & Cons

I saw together one weekend just before freshman year. His mom had dropped us off, since we both couldn’t drive yet, and he used his allowance money saved up over three weeks to pay for my ticket and popcorn. I like to think that was the beginning of the spark for us, the romantic thing that could have taken flight.
Instead, we’d become enemies.
“Here I thought you actually did something productive over the summer. But I guess you just went under the knife. Did we finally get to you?”
Sawyer’s voice is too close to my ear. Typically, I’d jump back with a start, or try to swat him away. I would show him, or his cronies, how much they were affecting me.
But I was different now. Something about being away from this place, away from my tormentors, has strengthened me. There’s a whole wide world out there, places far away from this judgmental town. And soon, I’ll be able to break free and explore them.
That notion gives me confidence, which allows me to stay stock-still as my nemesis leans far too much into my personal space.
“I figured I might see you at the plastic surgeon, that’s why I went,” I jab back. “But I forgot, they don’t do surgery on over-compensating egos. Unless, of course, it’s for growth. You know, in some areas you might be lacking in.”
My eyes flash down to the crotch of his khaki blue shorts, and I try to keep my sneer on my face. In all reality, I’m attempting to keep the goose bumps from breaking out all over my skin. The thought of seeing Sawyer Roarke naked is the stuff of my most secret fantasies and also the bane of my existence.
I don’t want to think the guy is hot, but oh my Lord, it should be illegal to be that ridiculously gorgeous. As if he wasn’t attractive that night in the basement closet during seven minutes in heaven, over the last two years, it has only intensified.
Sawyer has muscles on muscles, lean and ropey like only the school’s star soccer player could possess. Since I’ve been gone, it seems he’s grown another four or five inches on his mountainous frame, and when I peer up into those startling green eyes, they’re fixated on my boobs. That strong jaw tics, the skin of his face tan and golden from what I’m sure were many a day on the shores of Norma Lake, the town’s hot spot.
Yes, my ire for Sawyer is only heightened by his frustratingly good looks. But apparently, my summer transformation is also unnerving him.
“If you’d like to see how much I’m not lacking, we can find the nearest bathroom. I know you missed me.” A dark eyebrow raises cockily.
“I admit, I did miss the scent of jock BO and delusion. Can I help you with something, Sawyer?” I step into his space, almost challenging him.
Those emerald pools flare, along with his nostrils, because he wasn’t expecting that. Like I said, typically, I cower. A sick, satisfied sensation settles in my gut at the glee I feel at surprising him.
“Just wanted to come congratulate you, or maybe warn you. Looks like you finally decided to not be the weird girl this year. But we can all see through it. Don’t think that wearing a pair of shorts that show your ass cheeks is going to land you a date, or a spot on homecoming court. You’re still the exact same nerdy chick you were last year. The same weirdo you’ve always been.”
His words cut deep, but I don’t let him see the blood. Sawyer is a shark, that’s what he’s looking for. That’s what he feasts on.
How many times have we been here? Him saying something nasty, or me doing the exact same? We’ve cut each other down, past the quick, to a thing way beyond hurt.
Malice simmers in my veins, and I move in close, getting in Sawyer’s face. “And you’re still the same repugnant asshole. So I guess some things never change. Stay away from me this year, Sawyer. You’re right, I’m not the same girl. I’ve got bark with my bite now, and you don’t want that. I’ll dismantle your castle, pull you from your high horse. Remember, I knew you before all of these people thought you were invincible. And I know for a fact that you’re not.”
There is a pang of guilt in my gut as Sawyer’s eyes register the hit. For one split second, he lets me see the hurt. Our weapons are down, if only briefly, and we can glimpse the strife and wreckage we’ve waged on each other’s battlefields.
Then I remember the pros and cons list. It’s kept the burning in my gut alive for two years. My best friend, which he was once upon a time, with all of his most scathing inner thoughts. I knew, the moment I saw that list, that he had never and could never love me the way I did him.
“Remember, Blair, you made us this way.”
If I’m not mistaken, there is a note of sadness, or maybe bitterness, in his deep tone.
Yes, I made us this way. But he broke us before we even had a chance.

3 Blair
“See you bright and early tomorrow?”
Nate puts an arm around my shoulder, and we walk in tandem out of our AP physics class.
“If there is one thing I hate about being senior class vice president, maybe the only thing, it’s the early wake-up calls,” I grumble.
“And if there is one thing out of your personality type, it’s that you’re not an early bird.” My male best friend bops me on the nose.
He’s right, it’s the one part of my type A personality that just doesn’t fit; I can’t wake up naturally, or happily, before eight a.m. if my life depended on it. Sure, I do it, because my schedule relies on it and I have shit to get done. But I’ll bitch and moan all the way to our