Losers: Part I

She’d done it. I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Jessica walked into her friends’ party and came out as a traitor. Seeing the smile on her face, the enthusiasm as she cheered at our victory, felt like stepping into a parallel universe.

I’d been certain she was faking it at the track. Cheering for Jason, acting excited for the win — it had to be fake. She’d been told to submit to us and to think of our pleasure, so what better way to do that than to pretend she was invested in our victories?

But now…now I didn’t know if I believed that anymore.

We sped through Wickeston Heights, slowing only when we reached the gate and tried to look casual as we drove past the guardhouse again. But that old guard couldn’t be bothered to even glance up as the exit gate opened for us and we were free.

“Aren’t you guys afraid they’ll report this?” Jess said. “I mean, Nate’s dad is a cop…”

“If they report us, we’ll report them,” Jason said. “And we have a hell of a lot more evidence against them besides what they did to the cars. If Nate wants to go crying to Daddy, then he’d also better be prepared to explain all the party drugs he’s bought from Vincent over the years.”

Vincent chuckled from the driver’s seat. “There’s benefits to being everyone’s dealer. Prime blackmail material.”

“If they want it to get ugly, I can make it fucking ugly,” Jason went on, with a grim smile. That was the only reason we’d been able to be so bold with this. Getting the police involved would work out badly for everyone, but if that’s what they wanted to do, we could do far worse than simply fucking up their rides.

“We have plenty of ammo with us that isn’t frozen,” Manson said as we drove. “We should go over to Crookston. We still have enough light.”

“What’s Crookston?” Jess was seated between Jason and I, and she was still vibrating with energy. Her green eyes were bright, and her posture was rigid as her fingers tapped rapidly on the shoulder of the front seat.

What was her deal anyway? What did she want? Why was she doing this?

Why did she keep playing these games?

“Crookston High School,” Jason said. “The whole building has been abandoned for decades. We use it for paintball games.”

“I’d be down to play a round,” Vincent said. His tone changed as he gave Jess a mischievous look in the rearview mirror. “And what do you know, we have enough guns for everyone. Even you, Jess.”

“Really?” Her voice came out squeaky, and I thought she was about to say she wasn’t interested. “Oh, hell yeah! Let’s go!”

I didn’t know what the hell she was thinking.

We kept driving, eventually taking a turn and heading back into the trees. The old high school couldn’t be seen from the road anymore — its yard was overtaken by tall grass and overgrown trees. In the dusk, it looked particularly eerie with its broken windows, its chained doors halfway off their hinges. The white plaster exterior was now a dingy gray, with streaks of brown that seeped from the window frames like dried blood.

“It was abandoned back in the 70s,” Vincent explained to Jess. She was edged up on the seat next to me for a better view as the Bronco bounced along the rutted road, the asphalt buckled and cracked from years of neglect. “Attendance was too low. They locked it up and left everything behind.”

I glanced to the side, just in time to see Jess’s eyes dart away from me. I was the first one out of the vehicle as we came to a stop, shoving open the door before the car was even in park.

“Ready for a little urban exploration, fucktoy?” I said, leaving the door open so Jess could climb out behind me. We all piled out, stretching our arms and rolling the stiffness out of our shoulders.

She looked at the old building sprawled out before her, half overtaken by creeping vines. “Looks pretty creepy. Is it haunted?”

“Probably,” Jason said, and she laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. My frown deepened even more.

“Technically, it’s private property, but no one bothers to check for trespassers,” Manson said as he opened the Bronco’s hatch and pulled out our guns, tossing one to each of us. Jess caught hers easily.

“Are we going against each other?” she said, watching as Jason and Vincent reloaded their hoppers.

“That’s right. Player versus player,” Jason said.

“We’ll spread out through the building,” Manson said. “Last man standing without paint on him wins.”

“Or woman,” Jess said, and I gave a low laugh that made her fix me with a narrow-eyed glare. “What do you think is so funny?”

“That you think you have a chance at winning,” I said, resting my gun against my shoulder. “Or that you’re playing at all. Honestly, I can’t decide which one is funnier.”

Manson was giving me a don’t start shit look, but it was too late for that. Jess marched up to me, jabbing her purple nail against my chest.

“Not only am I going to play and win,” she said viciously, “but I’m taking you out first.”

“Oooh, she’s coming for you, Lucas,” Vincent said, and Jason snickered. I glared down at the tiny woman in front of me, her gun strapped over her shoulder, her hip cocked.

“You’ll be coming for me,” I said, and her eyes flashed. “Just not in the way you think.”

“All right, all right, let’s go!” Manson clapped his hands sharply to get us all focused. Jess and I gave each other one last biting glare before we walked across the old parking lot toward the building, and Manson explained our rules to her as we went. “If you get shot, you’re out. Text the group and wait back at the Bronco. The building’s layout is pretty simple. It’s a square with one long hall down the middle and two halls straight across, on both floors. Structural integrity is pretty good, but watch your step. Oh, and keep an eye out for squatters.”

Visibility was getting low, with barely enough daylight remaining that we wouldn’t need flashlights as long as we were near the windows. Vincent showed Jess how to turn on her flashlight just in case, which we all had attached to our scopes.

We were able to get in through the front door, squeezing into the dark hallway beyond. Rows of lockers and classrooms stretched ahead of us, leaves, dirt, and debris scattered across the floor and piled in the corners.

“All right, set your timers,” Manson said, pulling out his phone and the rest of us followed. “Five minutes to spread out and find yourself a good position to defend…or start hunting.” He grinned, only his teeth catching the light. “You didn’t refill your ammo, Lucas, do you want us to wait?”

“Nope.” I trudged on ahead, brushing Jess’s shoulder as I did. “Unlike you fucks, I can actually aim.”

Jess exhaled with a sharp sound behind me, her tone sarcastic as she said, “I bet you only need one paintball for each of us, right? You’re just that good?”

I kept walking. That little brat was going to regret trying to taunt me.

Who the hell did she think she was? After years of looking down her nose at us from the other side, Miss Martin suddenly wanted to play delinquent. She wanted to run around with us like she’d never laughed in our faces, like she’d been here all along.

Damn it, and I’d brought this on myself. I was the one who’d insisted she come along today, and for what? Because I’d hoped to see her chicken out. I’d wanted to see her bail on us because it would prove me right. But she hadn’t. She fucking hadn’t, in fact — she’d been brilliant. She’d smiled and laughed at Alex getting what he deserved, and she’d come along without even hesitating.

I took the stairs two at a time, boots crunching on old broken glass. Graffiti covered the walls in the stairwell, light pouring in the broken windows in narrow shafts. Maybe the others were quick to forget who Jess really was, but not me.

Fat fucking chance I’d forget. I had too many scars for that.

I didn’t understand the point of forgiveness. Where the hell did it get you? Right back where you started: naïve and vulnerable to the same shit happening again. This deal with Jess was supposed to be a game, but the others were getting far too cozy. Sleeping at her house, driving her around, working out with her?

No. Hell no. This is how we’d get fucked over, this was how Manson was going to end up with his heart broken all over again. This was how I…

Shit. This was how I was going to get myself in trouble. Getting these stupid soft feelings for her. Feeling proud of her. Feeling like I wanted to kiss her every damn time I saw her, or make her laugh, or see her smile.

God fucking damn it.

I slipped into a classroom and checked my timer. A little under a minute remained. I stood near the window and peered out at the courtyard below, spotting Vincent as he crept past a few rusted lunch tables. I lifted my gun, locking my aim on him. It was definitely shady of me to take aim before our time was up, but whatever. He shouldn’t have been out in the open.

My phone vibrated in my pocket as the timer ended, and my finger tightened on the trigger.

A sound from the hallway made me freeze, like the clatter of an aluminum can being kicked. I immediately shifted my aim to the doorway, crouching low behind a desk. I slowed my breathing and listened, my twitchy finger ready to fire. Come on…push open the door…

There was a creek, a soft step…then nothing. From down in the courtyard, I heard someone fire once, twice, then three times. But there was no cry of dismay to tell me anyone had been taken out, and I rolled my eyes as I slowly stood up.

I’d meant what I said about having better aim than all of them.

I nudged the door open wide as I crept back into the hall, sweeping my gaze from one end to the other. It could have only been a critter scrambling around, but I stayed low, peering carefully into the next classroom. Nothing, but I did catch a brief whiff of a familiar scent: strawberry and vanilla. That one little sniff made me salivate, and I continued on, my steps quickening.

Where the hell was she?

The better part of my brain told me I was acting like a child. Taking Jess out in this game wouldn’t prove shit, it wouldn’t stop what was happening. It wouldn’t stop the way the others looked at her, and it wouldn’t change the way I felt. Manson would say I needed an outlet, a way to release my frustration. Well, that was exactly what I was doing.

Venting some fucking frustration.

But Jess was cleverer than I’d thought. As I passed a row of lockers, I paused again, faced with an upcoming stairway on either side. My eyes narrowed as I lowered my weapon. It was so eerily quiet I could have heard a needle drop.

Suddenly, with a popping spray of paintballs, Jess burst out of one of the lockers. They peppered my chest, hot pink paint splattering over my shoulder and across my right arm. I tensed so hard I almost lost my footing, stumbling back as I stared at her in disbelief.

“Woooo! Yes!” Jess bounced on her toes, pumping her hands as I stared with wide eyes. Her grin was huge as she continued her victory dance. “Ha! I told you I’d get you!”

My hands tightened on the gun. No way…no fucking way did she actually…

“Hey! Hey, wait a minute, you’re out!” She backed away as I advanced, her victory celebration cut short. My vision was tunneling, narrowing in on that freckled face whose smugness was quickly shifting to worry. “I shot you, Lucas! You’re cheating!”

She almost stumbled over debris, dodging into the first classroom on her left. I came in after her, immediately greeted by another paintball straight to the chest. Damn it, that one was going to leave a welt. She shrieked as I took aim, barely dodging the paintball that exploded against the wall beside her.

“Why…won’t…you…go…down?!” She fired with every word, each ball hitting me square in the chest as I kept coming. Her eyes grew wider with every step, realization dawning on her as she was torn between fight or flight.

She didn’t get to win this. Not against me.

She leapt away as I lunged for her, sprinting back out of the room as I gave chase. I aimed again — missed. Damn it. She scrambled halfway down the stairway and then leapt, landing in a crouch before she kept running. Why was she fucking fast? My lungs were aching as I chased her at full speed down the dark hallway below, then through the open doors into the courtyard.

She kept glancing back over her shoulder, eyes wide, panting for breath. God, that expression on her face made me want to grab her, dig my fingers into her skin, feel her writhe and struggle against me. I spotted Jason peering down from one of the windows above and heard him fire, but we were both running too fast to be hit.

Jess burst through the doors on the opposite side of the courtyard and we were back inside. She turned so fast that I skidded on the floor, bracing myself against the lockers on the wall as she turned to face me.

Her face was red, her hair wild, her chest heaving for breath. I felt like I’d run a goddamn marathon. I was gasping for air as my eyes narrowed in on her.

“Give up,” she demanded, taking aim at me again. “I have plenty more ammo and you haven’t hit me once, loser!”

Loser. Oh…oh-ho, she’d done it now.

I fired, striking her shoulder. She yelped, clutching where she’d been hit, and I took full advantage. The next paintball hit her chest, the next hit her thigh, and she yelled, swearing at me furiously.

“That fucking hurts, you asshole!” She ducked into a classroom and crouched behind the large desk in front of the blackboard. I was out of ammo anyway. I tugged the strap on my gun until it was resting against my back, out of my way, before I went to grab her.

Little brat was still fighting. She had her finger on the trigger, and she started firing the moment I stepped around the desk. Paintballs at close range hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t care. The pain got my dick hard, and I suddenly didn’t give a fuck about winning or losing this stupid game. I cared about putting Jessica in her place.

I disarmed her, pinning her down, and wrenching the gun out of her hands. I shoved it away, sending it skittering across the floor before she could manage to grab it again. She was so damn slippery that she almost got away, but I hauled her to her feet and held her back against me, my hand gripped around her throat.

“You’re fucking cheating!” she snarled furiously. The way she was wiggling was rubbing her ass on my cock, and I couldn’t help grinding against her. She growled again when she felt me do it, snapping, “God, you’re such a pervert, Lucas! You sicko!”

Every furious word spurred me on. She fought with all her strength, pouring out her fury, but she could have simply called her safeword and gotten away. She could have, yet she didn’t.

“Call red, Jess,” I said, my voice tight as I struggled to keep her in place. She was fighting so hard, but if I wasn’t careful, I’d hurt her, and I didn’t want to do that. “Call it, now. Give up.”

She laughed, the sound maniacally mocking. “Give up? Oh yeah, I bet you wish I’d give up.” She did it again, grinding her ass against me. She was doing it on purpose now. “You lost! I got you just like I said I would.”

She almost wrenched herself out of my hold, but I snatched her back. I pressed her against the wall, pinned there by the throat. There was nothing but defiance in her eyes as she looked at me, our bodies pressed so close that I could feel her chest rise and fall with every breath.

“Why won’t you fucking call it?” I said. “Why don’t you stop trying? You’re not going to win.”

Her lips pulled back from her teeth. “I already won and you cheated! You — Goddamn it!” She rested her head back against the wall, eyes closed for a moment as she panted. “Why don’t you admit it? I got you. Why don’t you…I wish…”

She opened her eyes again. Those green irises stared into mine, full of confusion and sincerity and something so strange I didn’t dare put a word to it.

“You wish what?” I said. “That I’d play fair? Because I don’t fucking play that way, sweetheart.”

She was still pushing back against me, but I could tell she was wearing out, her arms beginning to shake. Thank God for that, because I didn’t know how much more energy I had left to try to fight her.

“I wish you didn’t hate me,” she said, and it felt as if my entire world ground to a halt.

“Hate you?” I said. “You think…you think I hate you?”

Her nails dug into my wrists as she nodded. She looked so angry, so…hurt. Fuck.

I moved my hand up, from gripping her throat to gripping her chin. She was so strong it stunned me. Every time I moved her, I had to fight for it. We were close enough to breathe the same air, and I didn’t want any more space between us.

“I wish I hated you,” I said. Her face tensed, tightened — contorted with confusion. “Everything would be so much fucking easier if I hated you.”

There was a long moment where we merely looked at each other. Her eyes roamed over my face, uncertain, disbelieving.

“You don’t?” she said softly, and her words shook as if the answer meant everything to her. But why should it? Why would she care? I was a fucking loser and she was…

I couldn’t be sure which of us went for the kiss first. She grabbed me, using all her strength to pull me closer, but I was already surging against her as if I could melt into her. Her kiss was wild, almost rabid as she raked her nails down my arms. She bit my lip. I crushed her against the wall until she moaned.

But that moan broke me. God, I couldn’t get enough. I couldn’t breathe without her. I was tugging her shirt over her head and she was pulling at the button on my jeans, finally yanking it open and squeezing my bulge.

There were still rows of desks in this old classroom, and I pushed Jess over one of them. Bent over, legs splayed, I wrapped her ponytail around my hand and held her there, giving her beautifully round ass a hard smack.

“Goddamn it, Lucas…” She groaned as I pulled her pants down. She was wearing a thong underneath, and I paused for a moment as I noticed the scabbed cut on her right cheek.

Manson’s name was carved into her skin. It gave me a shiver of pleasure to see the way my man had already claimed her, and I brushed my fingers over the cuts, before hurriedly tugging down my boxers.

“Is this what you used to think about?” she said breathlessly. I bet she was trying to sound taunting, but her words came out as desperate. “When you sat behind me in biology, was this why you were constantly staring at me?”

“Damn right, it was.” I sunk into her, her pussy deliciously wet and warm as she clung around me. Part of the reason I failed that class — besides the fact that I didn’t care — was that I couldn’t stop staring at the back of her head, fantasizing about her, imagining that stuck-up look on her face crumbling into the expression she had now.

Full of longing, pained with need, looking at me like I was the only way she could get what she so desperately wanted.

I pounded into her, the desk squeaking on the old floor as I used her hard. “I thought about this so many times, Jess.” I ground out the words as she throbbed around me. “I wanted to bend you over in front of the whole damn class.” She groaned as I lowered my voice and said, “I knew it would only take a few strokes and you’d be begging me for more.”

Her mouth hung open as she cried my name. I pressed down on her lower back, arching her into me. Her thighs shook, squeezing so damn tight around me, every hard thrust brought a moan from her.

She cried out again as she came, clenching so hard my vision sparked. I scratched my nails down her spine, curling over her like a beast as I came inside her.

“This is what you’ve fucking done to me,” I growled right in her ear as I pressed as deep as I could get. I wanted every drop of my cum in her. I wanted her to feel the heat of it for the rest of the night. “I’m not good at letting go of things I want, and you…I have wanted you for so goddamn long.”

I went still at last, both of us out of breath. My heart was pounding so hard I was surprised it didn’t burst. I pulled her up and against me before I weakly sunk down against the wall, taking her with me. She sat on my lap, my cock still inside her, her legs twitching as she rested against my chest.

“You won,” I finally said, once I had enough air in my lungs. “You won, you little brat. Happy?”

I swear the way she wiggled was another victory dance. “Yeah. I’m happy, Lucas.”

That statement shouldn’t have made me feel so good. Like I’d done something right, like her happiness was a gold star and I’d won first prize. Damn it all, I was pathetic. Falling for a woman I should have detested, having thoughts of domestic bliss and imagining beds big enough for all of us.

I knew better, and yet…apparently, I didn’t. I was screwed like the rest of them.

But then Jess turned on my lap. I slipped out of her, but she still straddled me, chest to chest, her fingers caressing over my lips as she looked into my eyes.

“I don’t hate you either, Lucas,” she said. “Even when you irritate me, or glare at me, or cheat at games…” She kissed me, and it was so much slower and gentler than any kiss I’d ever been given. It made my body melt in a way I really wasn’t used to.

I liked it. More than liked it. Far, far more.

“Well, I’m glad to see you two didn’t kill each other.”

We both glanced up. Manson stood in the doorway, with his paintball gun propped on his shoulder. Vincent’s head popped up behind him, and I glimpsed a flash of blue hair in the hallway.

“I am in fact mortally wounded,” Jess said dramatically, motioning at the splatters of paint on her clothes. I didn’t feel like getting up yet; I needed another couple minutes before my legs would be willing to work.

“It was a bloodbath,” I said, resting my head against the wall as I tightened my hold on her waist.

“Don’t tell me she got you?” Vincent snickered. I finally found the strength to get myself up, helping Jess with me. We adjusted our clothes, and the boys got to see how many bursts of paint I had splattered across my chest.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding.” Jason circled me, nodding his head. “Not bad, princess.”

She beamed, looking proud of herself. When she glanced back at me, I scowled to hide my smile.

“Don’t get used to it,” I said. “You got lucky.” She just lifted her chin, smirking.

“Well, who won then?” Jason said.

Manson raised his hand, grinning. “No one got me.”

But I shook my head. I hated to admit defeat; I really did. But Jess had played fair and I hadn’t. “I only shot Jess after she shot me multiple times. She never got eliminated.”

“We’ll call it a tie, then,” Manson said, slinging the strap of his gun over his shoulder. “Are you all ready to head home? I’m starving.”

“Let’s pick up pizza on the way back,” Vincent said as the five of us left the classroom and made our way out of the school. “Oh, wait, no, hot wings…or maybe burgers…or all three?”

Jess laughed softly at his indecision. We were walking close, our arms bumping into each other. I slipped my arm around her side, encircling her waist and pulling her closer against me.

“I’ll admit it,” I said. “You’re a damn good shot.”

She smiled as she leaned into my side. The chaos in my brain had calmed, but instead of leaving me confused and irritable like it usually would, I felt okay. Content.

I felt happy.