The Simplicity in Ordinary: (The Heartbreaker Society, #2)

by Sorensen, Jessica

  So how does Maxon know I wrote it?

  I slow to a stop in the middle of the hallway, drawing his attention to me.

  His forehead creases. “What’s wrong?”

  I look him in the eye. “How did you know I wrote that poem? Mr. Chester never said it was me.”

  He scratches at the back of his neck, suddenly seeming squirrely. “I… I may have been watching you while he read the poem aloud, and I could just tell by the way that you looked that it was you. But even before that, I kind of already wondered if it was you because the words seem to sort of fit you.”

  “But it was super depressing and talked about guilt,” I point out, confused.

  He offers me a sad smile. “I know.”

  My confusion doubles. “Then how did you know it fit me? Because no one else sure as hell seemed to know.”

  He offers me an understanding smile. “Ash, anyone who looked close enough could tell you felt guilty about the things that you did and that you weren’t acting like the real you.” He sweeps a lock of my hair out of my eyes. “The real you. The one I ate lunch with by the dumpsters all those years ago.”

  My heart skips in my chest at his ability to see me. “You’re too perceptive, Maxon Harter.”

  “I only am with things I find worth my time.”

  I shake my head, feeling a bit flustered. “You’re too sweet. I don’t even know what to do with it most of the time.”

  Smiling, he drapes his arm around my shoulder and steers me toward the exit doors. I smile as I rest my head on his shoulder. But that smile falters when I notice him glancing around again as if he's looking for someone.

  “Who are you looking for?” I ask, figuring it’s probably Clove.

  But he just shakes his head and forces his attention on me. “No one. Why?”

  And for the first time since I met him, I get the feeling that my sweet boyfriend might’ve just lied to me.

  8

  Maxon

  There are things Ash doesn’t know about me, and I hate it, but I’m also not ready to tell her. It’s not that I don’t trust her. I do, even after everything that’s happened between us. But I also struggle with talking about difficult stuff. My mom’s actually sent me to a therapist multiple times because she was worried I was bottling up my emotions. I was too. Still am most of the time.

  But some of the stuff that’s hidden inside me… The idea of talking about it…

  I swallow hard, my gut twisting in knots as Ash and I make our way across the grass toward Clove’s car that’s parked in the parking lot.

  She’s barely said a word to me since I lied to her and told her I wasn’t looking for anyone. I’m fairly sure she knows I was lying to her tool, and it makes me feel awful. But I can’t tell her the truth, because the truth will be followed by questions. Questions I won’t be able to answer.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her while holding onto her hand, afraid to let her go.

  A part of me always feels afraid to let her go. It’s an anxiety of mine and is just one amongst a long list of them. I was actually diagnosed with anxiety when I was around ten, but for the most part, I’ve learned how to deal with it. No one other than my mom is aware that I have it, and I’d like to keep it that way because again, telling people about it will only lead to questions I don’t want to answer.

  Can’t answer.

  In fact, just thinking about it makes me sick.

  Ash nods then glances at me. Worry instantly fills her eyes. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to be sick?”

  “I’m fine,” I lie, my stomach raveling with knots.

  I am far from fine. I can’t stop looking everywhere, searching for his face hidden in the middle of the people that surround me. My father’s face.

  Deep down, I know it’s probably an irrational fear. That more than likely my father isn’t at my high school, watching me. But the fear is ingrained into my mind, was put there exactly eight years to the day, which is the same day my dad left me and my mom. And no, that’s not a coincidence.

  The day my dad left, he threatened my mom. She didn’t know I heard him telling her that one day he’d come back and make her pay for making him become a husband and father, for making his life miserable.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d said something like this, but that day so many awful things happened that part of me believed he meant what he said that time. That he’d come back and make us pay.

  Eventually, I pushed past the fear. Well, for the most part. But each year, on the anniversary of when he left, the fear creeps up on me, and I find myself looking for him in the weirdest places.

  Ash abruptly slows to a stop and pulls me with her. "You're not fine. You look really pale." She places her palm to my forehead. "You don't feel like you have a fever, but… I don't know…" She lowers her hand and studies me worriedly. "Maybe you should go home and lie down."

  A small smile touches my lips. She’s so beautiful as it is. But when she does things like this, worrying about me and seeing if I have a fever, it’s hard not to get caught up in her.

  It’s always kind of been that way for me when it comes to her.

  Clove used to tell me I was an idiot for having a crush on her. He’d give me shit all the time, saying Ash was never going to give me the time of day and that I should just move on. But he stopped saying that around tenth grade. I used to wonder why. Then a few weeks ago, Ash confessed she had a crush on me for a while. Just after that, Clove informed me that the reason he stopped giving me crap about my crush on Ash was that he started suspecting she secretly had a crush on me.

  I sometimes still have a hard time believing this is real. That Ash and I are really together.

  Of course, there was a brief moment where I wasn't sure I wanted us to be together. Back when I found out she had sabotaged mine and my friends' chances of getting to participate in a science fair. But through a note from Ash, I learned how sorry she was, how awful she felt, and how she had felt stuck in a life she didn't belong in. And how she was afraid to leave that life.

  Fear.

  I’ve felt it. Understand it, which made it easy to forgive her.

  If only forgiveness was always that easy.

  “Maybe you should go home and lie down,” she suggests. Then the corners of her lips quirk. “I can go with you and play nurse. I can even dress up in a cute little nurse’s outfit if you want.”

  I shake my head, feeling my cheeks warm.

  My ability to get flustered over everything is one of the most annoying traits ever, but apparently, is entertaining to Ash and Clove, since they go out of their way to embarrass me all the time. I wish I could stop. Wish I could just be normal and flirt back with her without blushing like a dumbass. But the problem behind my discomfort is way deeper than that.

  “I’m fine,” I assure her, placing a hand on her waist. “You need to stop worrying about me.”

  “Nah, I’d rather not.” She loops her arms around the back of my neck and grins up at me. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to your place and let me play nurse? It could be fun.” She waggles her eyebrows at me.

  Again, my cheeks heat. “As fun as that sounds, we have a meeting to go to, remember?”

  She juts out her lip, pouting as she steps back.

  I know that look, have spent years observing her to know something’s bugging her, but what?

  “You’re upset about something,” I speculate, pulling her close to me.

  She shakes her head but continues frowning. "I'm not upset. I'm just a bit worried about this whole meeting thing. I mean, I've never really been to one and what Clarissa and I have to talk about…" She trails off, her frown deepening.

  My brows knit. “I’m confused. I thought Clarissa called the meeting, but now it kind of sounds like you’re part of it too.”

  She gives a half shrug, her gaze wandering to me. “I guess I am part of it. In fact, Clarissa kind of called it because of me.” She lets out a heavy sigh as a horn honks fr
om the parking lot. “That’s probably Clove. We should go before he draws even more attention to us ditching.”

  She seems sullen and completely unlike the cheerful Ash I know as we start walking toward Clove’s car. It has me worried about this meeting.

  What could Clarissa and her want to discuss with everyone?

  Before I can come up with any kind of answers, we reach Clove's car, and he instantly distracts us from our conversation.

  “Dude, you guys are so freakin’ slow,” he complains as Ash climbs into the car beside him.

  "We're slow?" Ash questions with a cock of her brow. "Dude, last week when we were going to the movies, you had to stop for gas, and it took you like twenty minutes, and we ended up missing the first part of the movie."

  “Hey, it’s not my fault the cashier dude thought Skittles were better than M&Ms,” Clove protests. “I had to set the record straight. But unfortunately, he was an excellent debater.”

  Ash gapes at Clove as I slide into the seat beside her.

  “That’s why you took so long?” she says. “Because you were having a debate about what candy’s better?”

  I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my smile. But seriously, she shouldn’t be surprised by anything Clove says at this point. Then again, he even surprises me sometimes, and I’ve been friends with him for practically forever.

  Clove points a finger at her. “Candy is the fuel of life, little weirdo, and it should always be taken seriously.”

  “I’m the little weirdo?” Ash says, shaking her head. “You’re the one who got into a debate with a cashier over candy. And candy I might add that isn’t even in the same category.”

  “Skittles and M&Ms are totally in the same category. But Skittles obviously wins.” He flashes her a cocky grin. “Which is what I proved to the cashier when I won our debate.”

  Ash rolls her eyes. "Both of the candies may be shaped the same, but M&Ms are made of chocolate and Skittles are straight up sugar and made of artificially fruity flavored goodness, so in no way shape or form are they in the same category. And they literally taste nothing alike, so there's no way to actually compare them. So your little debate was pointless. And so was the reason I missed the opening scene of what could've been a really good movie if I actually knew what was going on."

  Clove gapes at her, speechless, which is a rare occurrence for him.

  After a moment ticks by, he blinks then his gaze glides to me. “I don’t even know what to say to this.”

  I give a shrug, playing with strands of Ash’s hair. “There’s probably nothing to say since she just kicked your ass in that debate.”

  “Well, other than I’m awesome and badass and know all the things.” Ash smirks at Clove, who again, misses a beat.

  He contemplates something before pointing a finger at her. “You may have one this one for now, but I’m going to prove to you that there’s a way to compare the two candies.” Grinning, he starts up the engine then backs out of the parking space.

  “Good luck with that,” Ash says with a haughty smile.

  I smile too. I can’t help it. I love it when she gets like this. And it’s really entertaining to watch her keep Clove on his toes.

  Ash leans toward me, the scent of her hair overwhelming my nostrils, vanilla mixed with something sweet and fruity.

  “He may think he’s going to prove me wrong, but I’m right about this,” she whispers amusedly.

  “Yeah…” I barely hear her as I breathe in the scent of her.

  I’ve spent so much time daydreaming about what it’d be like to have her this close to me that sometimes I get lost in all things that are Ash.

  She glances up at me with a crinkle between her brows. “You seem distracted again.”

  “I am a little,” I admit, brushing her hair off her shoulder.

  “With what?” she wonders, her head angling to the side.

  I lift my shoulder. “With you.” I dip my head and place a kiss on her cheek.

  “Oh my God, no, no, no, do not start,” Clove complains. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

  “Aw, don’t be jealous because you can’t.” Ash grins at him.

  “Oh, I can. I assure you I can,” he promises with feign confidence as he pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road.

  He’s so full of crap. I’ve known the guy for years, and while he may be a bit better around the opposite sex than I am, he gets really awkward most of the time.

  “Oh yeah?” Ash challenges. “With who—”

  “Shit,” Clove curses, slamming on the brakes.

  We're thrown forward, but thankfully, we all have seatbelts on. But Ash only has on a lap belt, and the car is too old to have airbags, so I instinctively put my arm in front of her to protect her.

  “Holy shit,” I breathe out, glancing from Clove and Ash to a car in the middle of the intersection. My gaze returns back to Clove. “What the heck happened?”

  Clove shakes his head, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel. "This asshole ran the stop sign, and I nearly ran into him."

  I glance back at the intersection. Since we don’t have a stop sign, it’s pretty clear the other car nearly caused the accident. What I don’t understand, though, is why they’re still stopped in the middle of the road.

  “Why the hell aren’t they getting out of the way…” I trail off as the driver’s door swings open and…

  "Holy shit," Clove whispers, his wide eyes landing on me. "Max is that…"

  I smash my lips together, struggling to keep my breathing even. "Yeah… It is…" I feel like I'm floating in a dream as if what's in front of me isn't real.

  But even after I pinch my arm a couple of times, the man that got out of the car remains the same.

  "What's going on?" Ash's confused gaze bounces back and forth between Clove and I. "Who's the dude that got out of the car? Because clearly, you both are trippin' over it."

  I swallow hard as I stare at the man with dark hair and the same color of eyes as me. He looks older than I remember, and not just because he is older. No, he looks as if he’s aged a couple of decades when it’s only been about eight years since I last saw him. My bet is he’s still drinking.

  That realization sends a shiver down my spine.

  “He’s always at his worst when he’s been drinking,” I’d once heard my mom whisper to someone over the phone.

  Up until then, I didn’t realize my dad drank. I just thought he got angry sometimes.

  “That’s… He’s…” I swallow hard. “My dad.”

  Ash’s eyes widen, her gaze snapping to the man striding toward Clove’s car.

  “That’s your dad?” Her gaze returns to me and worry fills her eyes. “But I thought he left like a long time ago?”

  I nod, my chest feeling tight. “He did.”

  I’ve told Ash a little bit about my dad, at least enough that she understands he wasn’t a great guy. But I haven’t told her everything, and I’m not sure if I can. Some of the things that happened… It’s too painful… To haunting…

  I can’t do this.

  I can’t see him.

  I can’t…

  Ash laces her fingers through mine right as my dad reaches the driver’s side of Clove’s car.

  “Roll down the damn window,” he demands while knocking on the window. “I want to talk to you.”

  Clove glances at me, then at my dad’s car. “I’m just gonna swing around his car. We don’t need to talk to this asshole,” he says.

  I nod, more than ready to get the heck away from this man, and hope that we can without him realizing who I am.

  Clove reaches for the shifter.

  “Don’t you dare drive away,” my dad growls out, smacking the window with his hand. “You nearly ran into me, you stupid idiot.”

  Clove grips onto the steering wheel while looking at my dad through the window. “I almost ran into you? Look around, man. I don’t have a stop sign. You do.”

  He hits the window again. “Stupid
teenage drivers. You think you know everything, but you don’t. I don’t know why they allow you to have licenses. It should be against the law.”

  “That’s a really awesome speech,” Clove says. “You should go tell it to someone who cares.”

  My dad’s nostrils flare, then he smacks his hand against the window hard, causing Ash to jump and her grip on my hand tightens.

  “Why don’t you get out of the car and say that to my face?” my dad growls.

  Then he balls his hand into a fist and punches the window. His face contorts in pain as he jerks back and curses.

  “Drive, Clove,” Ash whispers. “Just go.”

  Nodding, Clove presses on the gas, and the tires squeal as he pulls away.

  A bit of relief starts to trickle through me that my dad didn't notice me in the car, but at the very last second, his gaze slides to the passenger seat, and our eyes lock.

  I’m unsure what sort of reaction I expected from him if he ever saw me again, but I think part of me hoped his expression would be filled with remorse. But that isn’t what happens. No, at first he looks a bit shocked, but then that look erases and is replaced with disdain. Complete and utter disdain.

  I make no remark of what I saw, as Clove drives away, leaving my dad standing in the street. I don’t look back to see what he does. I just stare forward at the road.

  “Are you okay?” Ash asks softly and cautiously.

  I tear myself out of my daze and nod. It’s a lie, but like I said before, I’m not very good with talking about complicated things. And my dad is one of the biggest complications I’ve ever had to deal with.

  “Maxon,” she starts, tracing the folds of my fingers with her fingertips.

  “I promise I’m fine,” I cut her off before she can attempt to try to get me to talk about my feelings.

  Because that’s the kind of person Ash is. She won’t let this go. She’ll want to make sure I’m okay.

  But I’m not okay.

  Not when he's here, and his words are filling up my head again.

  “If you ever tell anyone about this,” he whispers. “You’ll pay. And so will your mother. Do you understand?”