Filed to story: You’re Mine Read Online Free
“Continue.”
“Prom night.
My dress and how much you loved it.
Winning prom king and queen with you.
Knowing that you’re coming to UCLA with me.
That we have a future together” She lifts her head from my shoulder.
“I feel on top of the world.” That’s all she says, and I sense there’s a
“but” following her statement.
Yet she remains quiet.
“Harper, I urge.
“If you’re feeling unsure about any of this, about me, just know you’ve got nothing to worry about.
You’ve got me on lock.
You couldn’t shake me if you tried.” She turns her head to look at me, her eyes glowing, though I spot the tiniest hint of worry clouding them.
“I know. I don’t worry about you. Or us. I just…”
“What?”
“The spray paint.
The message that night on the limo,’ she admits, biting her lower lip.
I really hate it when she does that.
Only because I want to bite that plump lip myself.
“We don’t know who did it.
Who wrote that.” Anger makes my blood simmer and I try my best not to get too worked up.
“When I find out who did, there’s going to be hell to pay.
Mark my words.”
“Oh, I know,” she says on a sigh.
“But what if we never find out who did it. Or why. What then?” I frown.
“You told me you weren’t going to worry about it.”
“I wasn’t, not that night.
I didn’t want to let some petty, stupid message make me feel like shit on what turned into the best night of my life.
But now I’m curious.
Who is doing this? And why? What do they care about me and what I’m doing? I have no known enemies.”
“Except Aisha,” I remind her.
“Except Aisha,’ she repeats, slowly shaking her head, her gaze going to the window to study the scenery passing by.
“She didn’t do this.”
“You don’t know that for sure”
“No.” She whips her head around, her gaze finding mine.
“I’m positive it wasn’t her.
Not after what happened and how we exposed her.
She’s been keeping to herself ever since, Easton.
And yes, while she was there at your house the night of prom, I still don’t think she’s the one who left the message.
It’s got to be someone else.” Idon’t agree with her, but I’m not about to argue.
Not on the bus while headed to Disneyland.
Talk about making everything worse.
“Okay. So who is it?”
“I don’t know, she admits, catching her lower lip between her teeth.
“But I’m hoping we figure it out. Soon”
Easton
We’re exiting the bus in one of the giant Disneyland parking lots when Ryan grabs hold of my arm and pulls me aside.
“I brought something,’ he says, holding up his backpack.
“Like what?” Knowing him, he packed some extra good snacks, which we’re allowed to have so it’s no big deal.
Don’t know why he didn’t bust them out while we were still on the bus, but whatever.
“This.” He unzips the top of his backpack, opening it up and revealing what’s inside.
At first I see nothing, but then my eyes adjust to the light and it becomes super obvious.
The dumbass I brought a small baggie of fuckin’ weed.
“Seriously?” I push his backpack closed and shove it into his chest.
“They catch us with that, we’re done for.
No walking at graduation.
No nothing.
Your parents will kill you.” And mine will kill me.
Definitely not worth the risk.
Ryan clutches his backpack to him, rolling his eyes.
“Give me a break.
We can smoke out behind the bus, just pass the joint between us for a few puffs.
No biggie.
It’ll be epic.”
“You have joints in there too?” How much weed did the guy bring with him? Ryan nods, looking real pleased with himself.
“Let’s get the girls and go around to the other side of the bus before they start looking for us.” They’re still unloading the buses, and it’s going to be a while until everything is under semicontrol and they can corral us to the park.
So like a dumbass, I fall into line and follow Ryan everywhere he goes.
And I’m not a follower.
I never have been.
But I wouldn’t mind a couple of hits off that joint to mellow me out.
I’ve been amped up ever since Harper and I had that conversation about who could be the one who’s spray painting shitty messages about my girl everywhere we are.
It really could be anyone.
I know she doesn’t believe it’s Aisha, but I think she’s wrong.
That bitch doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself.
It gives her some sort of sick thrill, bashing Harper anonymously.
What the fuck ever.
Ryan grabs Sadie and Harper and we go to the far side of the bus, away from everyone.
We form a tight circle facing inward, no one able to see what the hell we’re doing as Ryan brings out a joint and a lighter and sparks one up.
“Going vintage today,’ he says before he brings it to his lip and takes a deep drag, holding the smoke in his lungs before he lets it out.
“Nice.”
“Hand it over, I say, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one’s nearby.
“I can’t believe you guys!”
Harper squeaks, her eyes wide with panic.
“We could get into huge trouble.”
“Keep your voice down and we won’t,” Ryan chastises.
I take a couple of hits, then pass the joint to Sadie, who puts the joint between her lips and takes a pull off of it.
She doesn’t say a word.
Doesn’t complain or act shocked by the joint’s appearance, which tells me Ryan let her in on that little bit of info.
And no one told Harper.
“You want some?” Sadie asks her when she’s done, holding the joint out toward her.
Harper slowly shakes her head, her gaze going to mine.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” I shrug.
“What if we get caught?”
“You’re wasting precious time, Harp.” Ryan’s voice is full of irritation.
“Either take a hit or hand it over.” She takes a small hit, making Sadie laugh.
“You go girl!”
We pass it around a couple of times, Sadie bringing a giant bottle of body spray out of her bag and spraying it everywhere once we’re done.
Ryan and I start coughing and we jog away from the girls, laughing the entire way as we join the rest of our senior class, who are all now clustered in a circle, listening to one of our advisors.
The chaperone is rattling off all the rules and what we can and cannot do, but I’m unable to focus.
I’m fucking high, is my problem.
Ryan nudges me in the ribs with his elbow, making me crack up.
Sadie and Harper show up, both of them standing behind us and I glance back at my girl to find her smiling at me, her eyes glazed over.
Looks like someone else is high too.
We take yet another bus out of the parking lot and head toward Disneyland.
Harper is pressed up close next to me in the crowded shuttle, her hand on my thigh a total distraction.
Despite everyone talking all around us, the excitement in the air, I can only focus on one thing.
Harper.
“You smell good,” I tell her, my voice low.
“I smell like Sadie’s overpowering body spray, she answers with a laugh.
Damn it, she’s right.
“You still smell good.” I nuzzle her hair, pushing it out of the way with my nose so I can kiss her cheek.
“Why are you so hot?”
“Easton.” She drags my name out, pushing on my thigh.
“Stop.”
“Let’s hook up on Space Mountain,’ I suggest.
“Maybe I can finger you.
It’s dark in there, you know.” Wide eyes meet mine.
“What do you mean, it’s dark in there?”
“Space Mountain is a roller coaster you ride in the dark.