Feral Attraction

My phone fell off my hands involuntarily as I saw the sight before me.

Locked between each other's arms were my own boyfriend, Evan and the person I called my best friend, Sai.

"Gal..." Sia stammered, unsure of what to say.

They probably didn't know they were going to get caught because my mum had initially refused to let me attend the party until my granny interfered.

"Evan, you son of a bitch!"

I stormed up and slapped him hard. "What are you doing with my friend?"

His arms were wrapped around the last person I expected him to cheat on me with; Sia, my best friend.

Their lips were locked in a kiss. Her hands were in his hair. His fingers dug into her waist like no other person existed.

"Oh my God, Gal," Evan jumped like he'd touched an electric fence. Sai turned around, her face draining of color so fast it was almost funny.

"Gal..." she started, her voice all breath and guilt.

"No," I snapped back at her. "You don't get to say my name like that. Not after what I just saw."

"It's not what you think," Evan mumbled, eyes wide, guilty.

"Oh, so you didn't have your tongue down my best friend's throat? Should I go back and get a replay? All because I told you I wouldn't be able to come to the party?"

Sai reached out for me. "It was a mistake.... please, please, Gal."

"Don't touch me!" I flinched, taking a step back. "You don't trip and fall into someone's mouth, Sai. How long have both of you been sneaking around behind my back?"

"I'm so sorry, babe," she begged, looking like she wanted to cry. Good. I hoped it burned.

"Pookie, please I can explain." Evan tried to do that thing where he made his voice soft like it could calm me down. Not this time around.

"Don't," I said. "Don't look at me like you're the victim. I was such a fool to believe that you love me."

Evan has the audacity to look guilty.

I laugh. Loud. Ugly.

People are looking now. The music feels quieter somehow. Sai's mascara is running. Evan's trying to reach for me.

I pushed him away with all my strength. "You don't get to touch me. You don't get to be sorry."

I didn't wait to see his reaction. Didn't need to. I turned on my heel and walked straight through the party like I owned the damn place. People stared, whispers followed me like perfume, but I didn't care. Let them talk. Let them watch, I didn't care.

I couldn't believe the two closest people to me had betrayed me. Evan was everything to me, we'd been together since ninth grade. We'd made it through awkward phases, bad grades, weekend fights, and even the weird two-week break last year where he thought we "needed space."

And Sai? She had been my best friend before Evan even entered the picture. She knew what he meant to me. We'd stayed up on video calls, gossiping and giggling about him back when he barely knew my name.

I felt like such a fool, I grabbed the first drink I saw and drowned it. Then I drank another and another... And another. I didn't ask what was in them. Didn't care. My chest burned, I didn't want to go back home in that state, so I danced.

I didn't care who it was with. I laughed too loudly, let my hair stick to my neck, let random guys spin me until the room tilted. Somewhere between tipsy and dizzy, I stumbled toward someone I didn't know...just a vague face, a red hoodie, a grin that I didn't trust but didn't fear either.

His hand reached for my waist.

I didn't get a chance to decide what I'd do next.

A hand yanked me back hard.

I nearly tripped, but another arm caught me, steady and firm.

Milo.

Milo; my arch enemy, was not just the annoying-classmate cum next door neighbor kind of worst to me. No. Ours was a rivalry forged in the fires of childhood betrayals over the years. A beef that had been marinated in petty sabotage and glitter since elementary school.

He stole my debate cards in sixth grade. Tripped me during the eighth-grade relay. And last year? Rigged my locker to explode with ping-pong balls and confetti.

Of course, no one ever believed me. Not when he smiled like some cologne-drenched choir boy. Milo Landry wore what I called 'a fake charm' like cologne. And every other person but me, fell for it.

But I knew better.

To me, he was a menace in angel's clothing.

But now, he stood between me and the guy, eyes like ice shards. His chest rose and fell with slow, controlled breaths.

"She's done dancing," I heard him say coldly to the guy.

The guy raised his hands. "Chill, man. I didn't know she was taken."

"She's not," Milo said, voice even sharper now. "But she's not yours, either."

The guy slinked away. I stared at Milo, my vision swimming, trying to focus.

"Why are you even here?" I mumbled. "Came to gloat? To mock me?"

He didn't answer. Just looked at me with this unreadable expression on his face.

"You're all the same," I whispered, throat closing. "You, Evan...every damn boy in the whole damn school..."

Just like that tears came rushing out of my eyes unexpectedly; hot and fast and humiliating. I tried to blink them away, but they wouldn't stop.

"I hate you," I sobbed, my voice breaking from despair. "I hate you, Milo...I hate you Evan...All of you!" I just couldn't stop myself.

Milo studied me for a while, his jaw tightened. Then he sighed, like someone who'd just taken on a burden they didn't ask for and stepped closer to me.

"Time up," he said. "You've had enough fun for one night."

And the next thing I knew, he was lifting me off the ground.

"What the hell..." I slawed..."put me down..."

"Hell no," he retorted. "We don't want you to be here anymore. Just keep quiet."

As if his words had powers of their own. I became worn out immediately and I didn't know when I buried my face in his shoulder, too tired to fight anymore. His natural scent mixed with his sandalwood cologne hit me; yeah!

Warm. Familiar. Comfort.

And I hated feeling like that.

*********

"Where am I?' That was the first thought that came to my mind when I opened my eyes on a strange bed in a strange room later.

"What!!!" I said when I realized I wasn't wearing my jeans.

I sat up in a flash, heart thudding, only to feel the hem of an oversized T-shirt slide off one shoulder. My legs were bare, my head pounding, and my mouth tasted like sour apples.

Where the hell was I?

Before I could scream, the door creaked open. And in walked the last person I wanted to see, Milo. Freaking Milo Landry, hair tousled, jaw still sharp, and wearing an expression way too casual for the bomb of awkward I was about to hurl at him.

"You're awake," he said.

I gawked at him. "Where am I?"

He folded his hands in front of himself "My room of course."

"What?"

"You refused to let me take you to your house last night," he said, rifling through a drawer. "I tried. You were very dramatic about it."

I blinked. "Wait. I was drunk?"

He turned around with an annoying smirk. "You were drunk like shit, Rivera."

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. Memories began flashing back in bits and pieces...music, dancing, that sleazy sophomore, me crying like someone had shot my puppy. "Oh my God. Did I... throw up?"

Milo's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Twice. Once on the driveway. Once on yourself. Spectacular aim, though."

I groaned louder. "No. No no no no."

"And because I'm not a monster," he continued, "I wasn't about to let you marinate in that all night. So I changed you."

My head shot up. "You changed me...Milo?"

"Relax. I closed my eyes the entire time." He held up both hands, grinning. "I am not as bad as you think I am."

"You?" I scowled at him, but deep down I wasn't mad. Just... mortified. And maybe a tiny bit grateful. Okay, maybe a lot. At least he had the decency not to take me home in my state of drunkenness when I begged him not to.

Without another word, he turned, walked out, and came back a moment later with a neatly folded pile of clothes.

My jeans. My T-shirt. Both smelled faintly of detergent.

"You washed my clothes?" I asked, stunned.

He shrugged, avoiding my eyes. "Figured you'd need them this morning."

I stared at the folded pile, then looked up at him.

"Thanks," I said quietly. And I meant it.

Milo didn't respond right away. His brows lifted slightly. I understood, the word thank you had never once been in my vocabulary towards him. He opened his mouth, closed it, then gave a tiny, almost bashful nod.

Then he cleared his throat and said, "I'll give you a minute to dress up. Bathroom's down the hall. New toothbrushes under the mirror if you need one."

And with that, he was gone.

"What just happened?" I asked myself loudly and sat down stunned for a second.

Milo Landry had taken me in, cleaned me up, washed my clothes, and didn't even use it to mock me.

One of our neighbors dogs barked, bringing me out of my reverie. I shrugged and dashed a quick glance at his digital clock.

I checked the time. 5:57 AM.

Perfect time to start getting ready for school. So I jumped to my feet and left for our apartment nextdoor.

******

By the time I stepped my feet on the school premises, I instantly regretted it, thinking I should have stayed back home.

Whispers followed me like smoke through the hallways.

I passed a group of juniors near the lockers. One of them gasped and elbowed another, who pulled out a phone and grinned like he had front-row seats to the circus. A trio of cheerleaders burst into stifled laughter when I walked by.

What the hell...?

Then Ellen, one of my close classmates, caught up with me near the biology laboratory.

"Gal," she said, eyes wide and frantic, "you need to see this."

I didn't want to.

But I did.

She pulled out her phone and showed me a blurry video of everything that happened between Evan, Sai and I behind the vending machines last night.

I took a deep breath, I should have known that people would record us on their phones. I thanked Ellen and shrugged saying it was nothing. But that was a lie.

And by third period, someone had already made a meme out of the whole drama and it was sent to my WhatsApp. Almost everyone had it on their phone.

I wanted to die. I wished I could just disappear into the thin air.

But I kept my head down. Moved through the hallways like a ghost. Acted like I didn't hear the whispers or see the looks or read the messages people weren't slick enough to hide.

Sai didn't come to school and I was happy she had the good sense not to come.

By lunch, I was so emotionally fried I didn't even make it to the cafeteria. I sat at the edge of the courtyard with my tray of fries and barely-touched chicken nuggets, head pounding, wishing I could teleport to another country.

Then it got worse.

"Gal."

I looked up.

Evan stood there, wearing his favorite blue jacket...but his eye was swollen. Blackened. A purpling bruise bloomed across the bridge of his nose, and he was limping slightly.

I stood slowly. "What... happened to you?"

He winced, then gave a half-hearted shrug. "Domestic accident at home."

I frowned. "That's not...what kind of domestic accident breaks your face?"

He looked around, lowering his voice. "Look, I just... I came to say I'm sorry. For everything. I messed up. Please forgive me."

I stared at him, not sure how to respond.

"I was... just a dumbass."

Well. That much was true.

Before I could ask more, he turned and hobbled off, head bowed.

What the hell happened last night after I left...? I thought to myself.

I got the answer near the end of the school day later.

"You're seriously doing it, Evan?"

I heard one of our classmates, Ryan, ask Evan.

"Yeah," came Evan's voice, rough and bitter. "He broke my goddamn face, Ryan."

My breath caught.

I was cutting through the back stairwell, trying to avoid other students when I heard them talking. Two boys. Familiar ones.

I paused near the landing, careful not to make a sound.

"I told you," Evan continued, "he hit me outside after I ran into him again later at the party. Imagine, he said I'd 'humiliated Gal enough.' He just... swung. Out of nowhere and pounced on me."

"I understand," Ryan encouraged him. "That boy needs to be taught a lesson. He's just too forward, I hate him too."

My stomach twisted.

Milo.

Milo had punched Evan...for me; me his arch enemy, it was unbelievable. But then with the way he treated me overnight, I doubt if we are still enemies.

That means he went back to the party after he took me back to their house. I thought to myself.

"And now he thinks he's a hero or something," Evan spat. "So yeah. I've got a couple guys waiting by the field for him. He's not leaving school with that face untouched today."

My hand curled around the stair railing, knuckles white.

This was spiraling. Faster than imagined.

I slipped away quietly and headed straight back to the geography classroom where Milo and I were supposed to be for the last period, mind racing. But Milo was not in class.

I didn't know what I felt. Fury? Guilt? Panic?

When I got to class and asked his best friend about his whereabouts, the boy shrugged and said Milo had already left early.

No explanation. No warning. No reason. It was like he'd vanished.

So I couldn't stay for geography class. I ran the whole way home.

My lungs burned and my fingers were frozen around my phone, refreshing Milo's contact again and again.

Still no reply.

Straight to voicemail.

I had texted him seven times already to warn him. But he hadn't read any of the messages.

And that terrified me more than I cared to admit.

I didn't see any gang waiting by the gate. No group of boys lurking in school jackets behind the gym. No fight breaking out in the quad like I expected. But still, dread coiled tight in my gut.

I reasoned that if Evan really meant what he said...and if Milo was anywhere near that stairwell after I overheard him...something must've happened.

My legs carried me across the familiar stretch of sidewalk to the Landry's apartment, my heartbeat louder than my footsteps. The front door was cracked when I reached it, which was the first red flag.

The second?

A dark smear on the tile floor. Not just dirt.

Blood.

My stomach lurched. "No," I whispered. "No no no..."

The smear trailed inside like something out of a horror movie. I followed it...barely breathing...across the living room, until it ended at his closed bedroom door.

I hesitated, hand raised.

What if he's...?

I knocked once. "Milo?"

Silence.

Then I pushed the door open and gasped.

He was lying on his bed, a damp cloth hanging off his shoulder. Blood smeared across his collarbone. His eyes were closed, lashes dark against pale skin, hair a messy halo on his pillow. For a terrifying second, I thought he wasn't breathing.

I was beside the bed before I even realized I'd moved, kneeling by his side, shaking his arm. "Milo? Milo, wake up-come on, don't do this, please..."

His eyes snapped open, and he moved like a switchblade.

"What the hell are you doing?" he growled.

Before I could react, he grabbed me by the waist and hauled me onto the bed in one smooth motion. My back hit the mattress, and his body pressed over mine, one knee shoved firmly between my legs. He pinned my wrists above my head with one strong hand, his other braced beside my ear. His face hovered inches from mine, lips parted, breath hot and fast.

My brain short-circuited.

I could feel everything...the heat of him, the tension in his arms, the way his chest heaved against mine. His grip wasn't painful, just firm.

"Milo!" I breathed, stunned. "What is wrong with you?!"

"I thought you were someone else," he said tightly, eyes burning into mine. "You scared the hell out of me."

"Well, you scared the hell out of me too!" I kicked my knee upward instinctively, but he shifted easily, avoiding it. The motion dragged his body lower, closer.

Bad move.

We were too close now.

"Get off me," I muttered.

But he didn't move.

Instead, he gave me a smile...the kind of crooked, half-sane grin that made me want to slap him and maybe kiss him in the same breath.

"You're ridiculous," I snapped.

"And you're dramatic," he countered.

"I saw blood, Milo! You weren't answering your phone, and then I found you like...like this..."

His eyes searched mine. "You were worried about me."

"Of course I was, you idiot!"

He blinked.

His weight suddenly shifted. The pressure on my wrists eased. His hand slid down gently, brushing my skin.

I used the opening to roll out from under him and bolt to my feet.

He sat up lazily, dragging a hand through his hair. The cloth from his shoulder tumbled down, revealing a shallow gash on his upper chest...already clotted, already healing.

"I'm fine," he said, voice quieter now. "No bruises. No broken bones."

I folded my arms. "Then whose blood is that?"

He looked at me for a beat too long.

"Not mine."

"Wow. So helpful." I made eye contact with him. "Ever thought of being straightforward with me for once?"

He rolled his eyes and flopped backward onto the bed like everything normal.

"It's nothing," he said offhandedly. "Don't worry yourself about the blood.

"Nothing...? Beating people and bleeding and acting like it's no big deal is nothing? Were you trying to impress me or something?"