I settled on The Walking Dead. I was fifteen minutes into the first episode when I heard feet thundering on the stairs.
“What’s all this,” Dylan asked fighting a grin as his gaze took in the cocoon I’d made for myself, my hand filled with BBQ chips suspended halfway to my mouth.
Tossing the chips into my mouth, I blushed to the roots of my hair. Gah! What was he doing here? And why did I have to look like a hobo? “It’s called binge watching.”
“Yeah? What’s on,” he asked, picking up my feet from the end of the sofa and sitting down before setting them back down on his lap.
“The Walking Dead.”
Dylan’s gaze snapped to me. “You hate zombies, Ed.”
How did he know that? “How do you know that?”
“Seriously? Haven’t you ever noticed Josh and I never play Left 4 Dead around you?”
I snorted. “I wish Connor and Allie would show the same consideration.”
“What happened to One Tree Hill? I’m dying to know how it ends.” His whole body shuddered as he spoke the lie.
“Whatever, you big liar.” I pressed play to start the show up again. The main character was in some building and the lights were low and blinking. I pulled my blanket up by my face.
“Is this going to be scary,” I asked Dylan.
“Probably,” he replied taking the bag of chips out of my hand.
“Oh, gross.” I covered my eyes with my blanket. I didn’t even care that he’d taken my chips. I lost my appetite.
“Why are you watching this, you big chicken?” The music intensified as Dylan crunched on his snack. How could he eat after seeing that?
“Distraction. And I didn’t want to watch a romance.” At all. Like ever.
Dylan ate his chips in silence. Then he took the remote out of my hand. The music stopped, and I lowered the blanket from my face, glancing over at him. His full lips were pulled into a frown as he scrolled through the options of different shows to watch. He stopped on the comedy Parks & Recreation.
“What happened to your hands?” I picked up the one laying closest to me and examined his knuckles. They were covered in scrapes and cuts.
He pulled his hand out of my grasp and tucked it under a fold of the blanket.
“Nothing.”
It wasn’t nothing.
“What did you do to them?” The other hand was just as scraped.
“This show’s funny.” He tossed the remote onto the coffee table and took a swig of my soda, ignoring my question.
“Dylan.”
“Ew. How can you drink that crap?” He made a face and set it back down. He wasn’t going to answer me.
Shrugging, I picked it up and took a sip. It didn’t really matter, I supposed. “No one said you had to drink my stuff, Dylan. Or even said you could.” I was probably going to miss this when he was gone. I stuffed that thought and those feelings down along with my insecurities about Marshall.
“These chips are making me thirsty,” was his only reply. Well, that and a wink.
I knew he was just trying to cheer me up. It was working. And I appreciated it. I handed him the water bottle I’d gotten for myself for after I finished my soda.
“You are the best ever.” He drained half the bottle in one gulp. I turned back to the show.
“Chris Pratt is still pretty hot in this show even though he’s not buff like he is now.” I was a huge Chris Pratt fan. That movie Passengers he did with JLaw was one of my favorites. But it was a romance and so I’ve boycotted it. For now.
“You like buff guys,” Dylan asked, flexing his biceps.
I giggled. “No, not really. Big muscles are overrated.” Not. But I couldn’t feed into his inflated ego- again. Leave it to a guy to turn a comment about another guy around to himself.
Dylan deflated beside me, pretending to be hurt. “It’s okay, Ed. I’ve always known I never had a chance with you anyway.”
Gasping, I lifted my eyes to meet his. They were filled with gentle teasing. He was trying to make me feel better. I slugged his shoulder.
“That’s right, you don’t.”
Chapter 17
Eden
You can do this! I tried to give myself a pep-talk before school on Monday. Dylan would be there any second to give me a ride and I was thinking about texting him that I was sick and couldn’t go. He would know that wasn’t the truth, though, telling me I’d have to go back sometime so why not rip off that band-aid. Except I didn’t want to rip off the band-aid. I wanted to crawl back into my bed until graduation.
“Ugh,” I groaned out loud and fell face first onto my blanket. A car horn honked from out front, but I ignored it. My stomach lurched. Maybe I really was sick. Totally sick at the thought of running into Marshall today. Sick at the thought of the looks I was going to get for being his weekend hookup after the game. All weekend long, the things Marshall said...after, things began to fall into place. The warnings from Connor and Dylan. The way Marshall had taken to me so easily. The way I’d let him take me so easily.
My cheeks burned with humiliation and disappointment. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.
“Hey,” Dylan’s voice from the doorway to my room startled me from my misery, almost.
“What do you want,” I grumbled from beneath my pillow.
His weight settled on the bed beside me as he sat down. His hand yanked lightly on a lock of my hair as he pulled the pillow off my face. I buried it into the comforter. “Come on, Ed. You gotta face it sometime. May as well get it over with.”
See? I knew he’d say that. “No. I don’t want to.”
“Where’s that strong girl who wouldn’t let Josh and me flick ants to see who could get them to go the farthest?” His hand rubbed a brusque circle on my shoulder blade.
“That was just cruel.” Boys were so dumb sometimes. All the time.
“They’re ants,” Dylan defended their barbarism.
“It was still mean,” I mumbled into my blanket.
“Fine. And you saved them like the cute little avenging angel you are. Don’t let an asshole like Marshall Simpkins take that away from you, Ed. Don’t let him think you are anything less than you are: the sweetest, toughest, strongest, most beautiful girl I know.” He said all that with a straight face.
I rolled over and faced him. “Laying it on a little thick aren’t you, Dill?”
He grinned. “I don’t know. Are you going to get out of this bed like a good girl and go face your demons at school?”
“I don’t want to face them.” My voice sounded small, even in my own head.
Dylan frowned. “Them who? I was just talking about Marshall.”
I turned my head toward the wall. Away from Dylan. “I don’t want to be known as Marshall Simpkins’ latest hookup. The girl he used and tossed aside. That isn’t who I am.”
“Of course, that isn’t who you are. Are you kidding me?” Dylan gripped my chin gently in his hand and turned my face toward his. “Look, Ed, you’re never going to be able to control what people think of you. All you have to worry about is if you are okay with you, who you are on the inside. And I think you have plenty to be okay about. Proud of, in fact. So, let’s get you to school before you’re tardy and I have to explain to your parents why you were late.” He started to get up from the bed, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm.
With tears heating my eyes, I asked, “What if I’m not okay with who I am? And what I did?”
“Aw, Ed,” Dylan shook his head and hauled me up into a hug. I nestled my head on his broad chest, deciding it was a lovely place to be, even better than my bed and maybe I should stay right there instead. “You can’t let jerks like Marshall determine your self-worth. You made a mistake going out with him-”
“Dill, I did more than go out with him-”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean you can’t do things differently from here on out, right? One incident doesn’t have to define you, Eden.” His hand drew lazy circles on my back, but his shoulders were te
nse, and I had the feeling he was holding back from saying anything more.
I rubbed my cheek against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. “I’m going to miss you when you leave.”
Dylan’s hand on my back froze. I shouldn’t have said that. I lifted my face off his chest, needing to put some distance between us. Tentatively, I met his gaze. His brow was furrowed, and his jaw worked mercilessly as he fought to say something. Or to not say it. Finally, his brow smoothed out and he pressed a quick kiss to my forehead.
“I’m gonna miss you too, Ed.” Without warning, he stood up from the bed, lifting me off with him. “Let’s get you to school,” he said after setting me on my feet.
It was useless to object. He was right, I had to go sometime. I might as well get it over with. Some things got better with time, others were made worse. Avoiding Marshall and kids at school wouldn’t solve anything.
Dylan headed out of my room and I followed after grabbing my backpack off the floor of my room.
On the way to school, Dylan turned the radio to the local Top 20 station and sang along with me even though I knew he preferred listening to alternative rock. He stopped at the curb in front of the school and waited until I was out with my bag on my shoulders.
“Thanks, Dill,” I said, and I meant it. Dylan had been there for me when I really needed someone. When I really needed only him.
“You have my number,” he called out just as I was shutting the door.
I looked back with a smile and wave before heading into the school and was rewarded with a smirk and a wink. Shaking my head, I headed into school, with my heart about to beat out of my chest with anxiety.
I don’t know what I expected. I felt like I should have a big red letter A emblazoned on my chest and so I walked with my head down because I didn’t want to see the faces of the other people around me as I made my walk of shame to my locker. But that wasn’t really what was going on at all. Instead of looks of pity or scorn, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. No one looked at me one way or another. Just like always.
Once at my locker, I took the time to analyze my feelings. Having sex in and of itself wasn’t shameful to me, necessarily. It was more the circumstances. I wasn’t ready, and it happened with someone I realized didn’t care about me at all. Too much. Too fast. And the last thing I wanted to be known as was an easy girl who hooked up with football players. I’m not. I didn’t want to be. And my fear walking into school was that I would now have this awful reputation that just wasn’t me.
I’d agonized over what to wear to school today. I considered the reaction of both Dylan and Marshall to the clothes I’d worn the first week of school and I’d come to understand the difference. While I believed guys should always show girls respect, it was naive to think they all did. Dylan’s outraged reaction to the way I dressed, showing off more skin than I ever had before, was because he cared about me. Because he respected me.
Marshall’s reaction, on the other hand, was born of disrespect and the idea that he could interpret some message he thought I was sending through my wardrobe as permission to treat me with disrespect. He couldn’t. But I didn’t know. I didn’t realize. Until it was too late, and I was in a situation I didn’t want to be in and had no idea how to get out of.
I let my desire to have a boyfriend cloud my judgement. I should have known just by the way Marshall treated me and the way I was told he treated other girls, that he wasn’t really a good guy. I should never have let him kiss me the way I did without an understanding between us about our relationship.
I should never have met him under the bleachers.
I should never have lied to my parents to be with him.
I should never have to lie to my parents to be with a guy.
What was I thinking? And I dragged Allie into it, even though she didn’t know, and that was just so wrong. I felt sick just thinking about it. Anything could have happened, and my parents wouldn't have known where to find me. They would have called Allie’s mom and my actions could have gotten Allie in trouble.
Then, there was Dylan. I put him in such a tough situation calling him the way I did. Staying at his house the way I did. I was beyond thankful that he came to get me. That he took care of me. But things could have gone so differently. Things could have been much worse.
And I never wanted to be in that situation again. Ever.
That’s why I dreaded coming to school. I didn’t want the label that could come from doing what I’d done. It was why I didn’t even know what to wear. I didn’t want to hear the words that could have been said about me. Skank. Slut. Easy. So, I chose a pair of skinny jeans with canvas tennis shoes and a floral blouse. I felt more comfortable than I had in days. And Dylan hadn’t frowned at me with that worried expression he’d had all month.
I was later than usual, so I made my way to my first period without looking for Allie. I’d already texted her to head to class without me. I was sure I wouldn’t see Marshall at all that day unless I sought him out, which I wouldn’t. But when I turned the corner to head to Algebra, he was there, leaning against the wall across from the room.
My plan was to ignore him, but once I got a load of his face, I couldn’t. Instead, I did a double, then triple take.
“What happened-,” I started to say.
“Don’t act like you don’t know.” He pushed off the wall, his books tucked in his hand at his side as he walked toward me. A quick glance around the hall told me we were mostly alone. The bell would ring any second. He was going to be late to his first period class which I knew was on the whole other side of the building.
Marshall stared at me through a swollen left eye. His right cheek was split open and was currently being held together with butterfly bandages.
“I really don’t know.” And I didn’t. What the heck had happened to him?
“You can tell your guard dog to leave me alone. I got suspended from the game this weekend because coach thought I got into a fight.” Anger burned from his eyes as he stood above me, fists clenched and shoulders tight.
“Guard dog- oh.” Suddenly, Dylan’s split knuckles didn’t seem so suspicious. Shaking my head, I tried to explain. “I never told him to do that.” Although, now I wish I had. Taking credit for the state of his face would be fun.
“Right,” Marshall scoffed, his lips twisted with anger. “I didn’t do anything you didn’t want me to do. You’ve been throwing yourself at me for weeks.”
Shame burned my cheeks. He was right. I had thrown myself at him. I’d sent him all the wrong signals and that part was on me. But I didn’t care what Marshall thought anymore. And I didn’t feel bad for him, not one bit. He’d used me and treated me like dirt. Maybe he deserved what Dylan gave him.
“Whatever. Bye, Marshall.” Without waiting for a response, I headed into my class.
Everything was going to be okay. I faced this day and I faced Marshall. I wasn’t going to let some guy ruin me. Instead, I threw back my shoulders and found my seat. Who needed boys anyway? I certainly didn’t. Tomorrow, I’d get my driver’s license and my independence. Things were about to change.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Dylan lately,” Allie commented over lunch, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“You know I hate Dylan. He’s just bored because Josh is gone. Besides he leaves tomorrow.” I wasn’t even going to go there.
Allie quirked a brow like she didn’t believe me. “Whatever happened with Marshall? I thought you were digging him?”
I tried not to react. I hadn’t talked to Allie much over the last few days. She’d been busy hanging out with Connor and I’d been busy hiding in my room. Not that I planned to tell her anything about what happened with Marshall anyway.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think we’re all that compatible. He’s a little too Neanderthal for me, you know?”
Allie nodded slowly, watching me carefully. “Connor said he thought he saw you at Jared’s party, but he wasn’t sure it was you. I gu
ess Brittany was drinking too much and so he didn’t search you out.”
How much should I tell her? I talked to dozens of people at that party. And while most of them were drunk, surely someone would remember seeing me. I didn’t want to lie to Allie, especially if there was a chance she’d find out about it from someone else.
“I did go. With Marshall.”
Allie’s eyes widened. “Really? How was it? Connor said it was a crazy party. He finally broke up with Brittany because of it. He hates that kind of thing and he said she was out of control drinking and flirting.”
“What? Connor broke up with Brittany?” That was the first I’d heard of that. I wondered if this was it, if Connor would look at Allie and not just look but do something about it.
“Yeah, I can’t say I’m upset about it. I hope the next girlfriend is someone nicer.” Allie’s mouth twisted, and I imagined the words tasted as sour as they sounded.
“She’s gonna be super nice, because she’s gonna be you,” I teased her.
Allie’s eyes widened before she could control them, but her blush told another story. “Stop it. You know things aren’t like that with us.”
Gazing heavenward, I shook my head. “Just don’t be upset when your man is walking the halls with his next skank on his arm.”
Allie sat quietly before returning to our previous topic. One I wanted to avoid. “So, you and Marshall?”
I shrugged, sipping on my Diet Coke. “I don’t think Marshall and I will go out again. I don’t want to be a part of that crowd. Honestly, I think I’m just fine without a boyfriend. Who needs that drama?”
Allie slapped her hands down on the table on either side of her lunch tray. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
Grinning, I shook my head. “I mean it, Al. Boys are just too much work.” Dylan’s face flashed through my mind. Definitely more work than they were worth.
“I can’t believe those words just came out of your mouth.” Allie looked dumbfounded. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” She reached across the table and put her hand on my forehead. “You don’t feel too warm, but maybe you should go to the nurse just in case.”
The Perks of Hating You ( Perks Book 2) Page 10
