REVENGE KISS: FALLING FOR MY BAD BOY STEP BROTHER

~SAFFRON~ “Oh my God!” I gasp, my eyes widening as my boyfriend devours a blonde chick's mouth. It looks like a hot scene from a young adult movie. I stumble back in shock, my heart beating like a war drum. It's my nineteenth birthday. He'd promised he would come to my party, but hours ago, when I called to ask where he was, he texted that he's being held up by his coach. What are the chances that the Scarlett Johansson look-alike in his lap is his coach? I'm still in shock, transfixed by the heartbreaking sight, and that's when Maxwell opens his eyes to see me. He immediately pushes the blondie off him and springs to his feet. I want to run, spare myself whatever explanation he's cooking up, but I can't. In fact, I move—toward him, my legs shaking like a leaf in the wind. “Saffron. What are you doing here?” he asks breathlessly, turning around like he's hoping to catch the bastard who brought me here. To a random party. “Tate said you were here…” I mutter, eyes fluttering. He looks disheveled, his blonde hair tousled, his mouth swollen from all that kissing. “Who’s she?” I point at the stunning girl watching us with a pair of smoky blue eyes. She's the definition of a hot college chick, the kind of girl boys post all over their rooms. Oh God. I should have listened to Kate’s advice to forget about Maxwell when he left for college. In Kate's words, boys turn into manwhores in college. “She’s uh...” He scratches the back of his head, his face scrunching like it always does whenever he's about to lie. “I'm his college girlfriend.” The blondie says, stepping forward, her arm placed on Maxwell's shoulders. I notice how her nails are long and so... red. Whereas mine are chopped and multi-colored like a K-pop idol’s. “Girlfriend? But...” I turn to Maxwell, hoping he can explain to her who I am. He sighs and drags a hand down his face. “Listen, Saff,” he starts with an apologetic expression, “Anora here is my… college girlfriend.” I hear a ringing in my ears followed by a slam in my chest. I blink back, trying to understand what I just heard. “College girlfriend? What does that even mean?” I meant to chuckle, but it comes out as a snort, making my situation even worse. “It means we're over, Saff. I'm done with you.” His words hit like a bucket of ice dumped on me. But he doesn't stop there, in fact, he goes on to insult me. "You're sweet, Saff. And... decent-looking. But Anora? She's a ten!” he says enthusiastically, like one of those mean boys who want surgery-enhanced girls and not the realistic mid ones like me. “I’m in college now and you're not. We can't be together anymore. I'm with Anora now.” The Anora in question wraps her arms around Maxwell's torso, giving me a mocking smile as if to say I'm better than you, tra-la-la-la. God, it hurts. I literally have to rub my chest to soothe the burning ache. I can't even breathe properly now. It feels like that one time I had a panic attack when I saw my dad run over by a car. “Max… it's my birthday today.” Wrong. Wrong, stupid, wrong! I shouldn't have said that and when Anora laughs, I feel even stupider. “And what has that got to do with him?” She keeps laughing at me. And God, I want to slap her into next week, but she looks like she could beat the s**t out of me. Plus I'm not even strong enough to throw a punch right now. It's like I'm torn up from inside and my eyes are burning with tears. “You shouldn't have come all the way here, Saff. Just go back to your birthday party and forget about me.” I choke in shock when Maxwell turns away with his new girlfriend. They aren't even back in their seats before they start kissing again. Hatred mixed with pain scorches through me and the urge for revenge pushes me to do the most ridiculous thing ever. I look around, searching, and there's a really hot guy smoking by a corner. He's Damon-Salvatore-hot, in a tight black tee that clings to his muscular body. He even has an arm and a neck tat and ear piercing. Oh, he's perfect! I stomp over, pluck the cigarette from his fingers, and blurt, "I'm sorry, but can you hold your breath for a second?" "What?" He scowls. And right then, I grab his hard face and kiss him. He tries to move away, but I push closer, my chest brushing his hard chest. My heart pounds as I expect him to push me off and call the cops but he doesn't. In fact, he relaxes into the kiss and just lets me assault him. “Saffron! What the f**k do you think you're doing?!” Maxwell drags me away from the stranger. I almost lost my balance, stumbling back. “What does it look like, Max? I'm kissing my new boyfriend!” I snap at him, my eyes wild and my chest heaving. “Are you f*****g nuts?!” Maxwell grabs his hair like he's going crazy, horrified as his eyes dart between me and the hot stranger. “Do you know who he is?!” “I don't f*****g care!” I yell. “You cheat on me with a college girl, I replace you with a hot guy. Sounds like a fair trade.” I shrug, folding my arms across my chest. It feels like I'm high—high on adrenaline because there's no way I could have kissed a total stranger sober. And I can't stop licking my lips, savoring the ashy taste of his tongue. Maybe smoking isn't that bad after all. “Hey, man, I'm so sorry—” Maxwell tries to apologize to the guy but he cuts him off with one word. “Walk.” Holy s**t. His voice catches me off guard, like a deep rumble in the dark. Maxwell looks shocked but he recollects himself quickly and speaks again, “Listen, she's—” “I really hate repeating myself.” My hot stranger growls again. Maxwell scoffs, totally embarrassed. He eyes me disdainfully, shakes his head at me and marches away angrily. Anora tries to hold him but he pushes her off and leaves the party. Now, I'm left with the guy I just assaulted and I wish the ground would open up and swallow me. “Look…” I start, not daring to meet his gaze that's burning into my side profile, “I know that was awkward but I was just trying to—” “I don't care.” He cuts me off, stands up and I stumble back because my God, he's so tall. I watch him in awe as he walks away, the muscles of his back moving in his shirt. He looks like he goes to the gym a lot. And I wonder what his abs look like. “Hey!” a high-pitched voice calls. When I turn, a splash of champagne hits my face. I gasp, blind for a couple of seconds, the alcohol stinging my eyes. When I look up, it's Anora, watching me with a frown. “Stay away from Maxwell. He's mine now,” she warns and then struts away in her denim mini skirt. A few people laugh, mostly boys. Others don't care. It's like they see two girls fight over a boy every time. I gather my shivering self, my head down as I walk out of the party in shame, my clothes drenched in alcohol, my heart shattered. Once outside, it starts to drizzle, and I try not to cry, but it's so hard. I feel so miserable. I got cheated on and humiliated on my birthday. I guess the nineteenth love theory is true after all—that silly idea Kate always teased me about, how your love life peaks or crashes at nineteen. As I walk under the drizzle-turned-rain, I vow in my sore heart that Maxwell will regret dumping me for a college hottie... because in four weeks, I am going to college. And I'm going to be the next college IT girl. Except I can't afford a top college fee like Maxwell.