Freak (Hillcrest University #2)
Page 11
I laughed. “Right. Because my personality is so charming.”
“There’s something about you, yes,” Will spoke, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know if I can explain it, but I knew it ever since the diner, when you were telling me about chicken nuggets.”
Chicken nuggets? My obsession with chicken nuggets was what started all of this? Me, luring Will to the dark side to be with me? I wanted to laugh again, but I couldn’t, because I knew he wasn’t lying. Someone like Will didn’t lie. He spoke only the truth, no matter how silly it was.
“Declan’s lucky to have you,” Will went on.
“Declan doesn’t have me.”
Will gave me a complicated smile, one laced with bitterness and a hint of jealousy, as if this was him giving up. “He needs you. You’d be good for him.”
What the hell? First he made out with me, and now he was trying to convince me to date his brother? I wanted to bitch-slap him, but my bitch-slapping hand was currently in a splint, so I’d have to settle for a death glare.
“And I don’t get a say about who I’m with?” I asked him. Hell, at this point, I wanted to fuck them all but ultimately be with none of them. That would teach them to jerk me around so much…it’d also make my feelings for them all the more real, unfortunately.
Because I did, I totally had feelings for them. For Declan, for Will…for Travis and fucking Sawyer. If I could, I wouldn’t. If I could choose who I liked, I wouldn’t like any of them. None of them were good for me or my sanity, clearly, not even Will. He was too self-sacrificing for his own good.
Will didn’t answer me, mostly because he couldn’t, and because he was too far lost in self-blame, as if he was the only one who wanted to exchange a bit of passion a few moments ago. If he wanted to go on like it didn’t happen, fine. If he wanted to confess it all to Declan, fine. He could do whatever the hell he wanted, and I wouldn’t care.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
We walked back to the dorm building in silence, keeping at least two feet from each other. I didn’t even want to breathe in the same air he was, for crying out loud. I was upset, and for good reason, I think. Will texted Declan that we were on our way back, and I wondered if he then told him what happened, or if he’d save that news for an in-person kind of thing.
Ugh. This night had just gone from great to awful.
I was the first to make it to the door, the first inside. Declan was at his desk, but the moment we came back, he got up. His dark eyes were on me as he said, “That was fast.” His hair was wet from a recent shower, and he wore his usual ensemble of nighttime clothes: a plain shirt and his athletic shorts. A devastating kind of cute.
Will came in behind me, closing and locking the door. “Yep,” he said, meeting his brother’s stare. “It didn’t take long. Took longer to walk there.”
Declan smiled, although I could tell it was strained. “What did you have to do?”
I glanced at Will, not wanting him to blab about Sawyer. “I did what I had to do.” If he was going to tell Declan about the kiss, then I reserved the right to keep that part of the night to myself.
But I needn’t have worried so much, because Declan figured it out on his own. “Sawyer. It had to do with Sawyer, didn’t it?”
I gave him a smile as I sat on my bed, working to undo the laces on my shoes. “Don’t worry about it, Declan.”
Will moved further into the room, muttering, “Let’s just say I don’t think Sawyer will be coming after you anymore, at least for a while. I think his attention will be elsewhere.” With that, Will pointedly looked at me.
I could tell just by his expression that he wrestled with himself, whether or not to come clean to Declan. It was beyond ridiculous. Declan and I weren’t dating, so there was nothing to come clean about. We didn’t have to tell Declan anything. Telling him about the kiss—or, more accurately, the quick make-out session—would only hurt him. I doubted he’d trust me after knowing that.
Declan must’ve sensed that something was wrong, for he asked, “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”
Will stared at me, his hazel eyes heavy. I didn’t know what to say, so I kept quiet. This…this was on Will now. If he wanted to confess, he’d have no help from me. Will turned to look at Declan before saying, “There was another girl with pink hair.”
It wasn’t what Declan was expecting, and it wasn’t what I anticipated, either. “What?” Declan asked, and I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering if this meant Will wasn’t going to tell Declan. At least not right now.
“At the party,” I said, “there was a girl with pink hair. I think Sawyer’s using her because he can’t use me.” The truth, but not the whole truth. This much, at least, I was comfortable telling Declan. I wouldn’t go so far as to show him the video on my phone, but still. He knew enough.
“That’s messed up,” Declan muttered.
“I know,” Will said, going into the bathroom. He shot me a look as he went, and once Declan and I were alone, I let out a sigh. He was leaving this weekend. As much as I appreciated him being around, being Declan’s bodyguard (and mine, I guess), it would be nice to get things back to normal. No more third wheel. No more extra tension in the dorm room.
There was already plenty of that.
I was busy texting Kelsey about what happened, what I did—I’d have to wait until the guys were asleep to tell her about my impromptu make-out session with Will—while Declan fiddled with his hands on his lap. It was a few moments before he said, “I’m glad you weren’t at the party for long.”
I paused in my texting, meeting his dark stare. “Why?”
“Because I like it when you’re here with me,” he whispered, and even though he was across the room from me, I got chills. Spoken so seriously, he had me at a loss. I had no idea how to respond to that.
I wished there was another girl stuck in a situation like mine. I mean, really, I’d love to ask for some tips, pointers about how to handle all of this. My multiple crushes, the whole mystery surrounding Sabrina and my suspicion about Travis—although, the more I thought about it, the more I replayed what Travis had said, I was starting to wonder just whether or not he’d actually done it.
Sabrina’s diary still rested in my backpack, safely nestled away from the world. I brought it with me to class, never having it leave my side for too long. I’d planned on talking to Will about it, but things had grown much more complicated than I expected.
No. I’d have to make my own choice when it came to the diary, and whether or not to show it to Declan, just like I’d have to make my own choice about all of these guys. They were all broken in their own way, all of them monsters, depending on how you looked at them. Will, Declan, Travis and Sawyer; there was a darkness in each of them, a part of them that called out to me.
Will tried to be good, but there was a part of him that wanted to be let loose. Declan was shattered but still able to get pissed. Travis and Sawyer? I needn’t go on about the things they were capable of.
They weren’t my boyfriends, but still…I couldn’t help but wonder what my life would be like if they were.
Chapter Sixteen – Ash
Time went on, as it often did. Will left, and he barely spared a glance at me before going. It was fine, because I feared the more eye contact we had, the more he’d want to tell Declan about our kiss. Declan was doing just fine not knowing, too. His injury had scabbed over, the stitches dissolving. It still looked mighty ugly, but at least he’d have a pretty clean scar.
My thumb, on the other hand, still required some time in the splint. I was giving it three weeks, which was on the shorter end of what the nurses and doctor recommended at the hospital, and of course I wasn’t going to make a follow-up appointment with them. They could all kiss my ass.
Declan and I fell back into our routine, and I wondered how disjointed he and his dad were. I mean, I didn’t tell my mom the exact reason for my dislocated thumb, but I did tell her I fell on my
skateboard and hurt it. She at least knew I’d gotten hurt—and then she’d launched into a long, rambling rant about why I should just walk to class like everybody else. Anyway, as far as I knew, he hadn’t told his dad a thing, and it wasn’t like the Dean of Hillcrest visited us, so I doubted if he’d ever find out. Declan would just wear long sleeves around his dad from now on, I guess.
There were the usual tauntings, the notes taped to the door written in red marker. Murderer, killer, a few other creative ones that I instantly tossed in the trash. It seemed going after Sawyer at his party wasn’t enough to fully move his focus on me, or maybe Sawyer had just forgotten to give everyone else the memo.
It was as I sat in one of my classes, doodling on the edge of the paper, when the professor was droning on and on about some useless topic of sociology that I heard the auditorium doors open, and the professor instantly stopped. She was an older woman, and she didn’t like interruptions. It was a big lecture hall, capable of holding up to one hundred students, but only fifty or so had joined the class, so there were quite a few empty seats.
Everyone paused in their note-taking to look at who strolled in, and when I saw his blazer-wearing shoulders walk down the stairs to the front, my mouth dropped. What the hell was Sawyer Salvatore doing, walking into a class that wasn’t his, in the middle of a semester? It was far too late to change classes…or at least I thought so. I didn’t have money, so maybe he greased a few palms to get in here.
He had no backpack and seemingly no cares in the world as he strode down the stairs on the side of the lecture hall to speak with the professor, who didn’t look too thrilled to be interrupted. Still, the professor listened to whatever it was Sawyer had to say, and in a hushed tone she told him something back.
I watched, growing confused. My doodling had stopped the moment Sawyer entered, and I knew no matter what happened next, my mind would be gone for the rest of the class, maybe even the day. I didn’t see him each day, which was good, because a guy like that was someone I had to prep myself for, mentally and physically. When caught unaware by Sawyer…my mind and my body turned a bit traitorous, as clichéd as it was.
Sawyer nodded at the professor, and before I knew it, he was heading back up the stairs, stopping at the edge of my row. His green eyes sparkled mischievously, and he sent me a lopsided grin, halfheartedly pointing to me and gesturing at the doors in the back.
He came here to drag me out of class? What in the hell? Why did this kid still have balls around me after everything I’d done to him? Granted, I wasn’t quite through with him yet—Kelsey had helped me come up with a really awesome plan—but still. Doing anything Sawyer wanted was not on my agenda.
And yet…and yet I quietly got out of my seat as the professor resumed her lecture, and followed him out of the classroom, leaving behind my bag and my notebook.
The hallways between classes were empty, for the most part. There were always a few students who sat in the common areas and studied or did homework while waiting for their next classes, but not many. We were as alone as we could be in the hall, especially with all the doors to the classrooms shut. Just Sawyer and me. Great.
Now that I was closer to him, I was able to see his lower lip. Small scabs still, but it was mostly healed. I didn’t hide the fact that I stared at his mouth as I said, “Your lip looks better. A shame. I kind of liked you better when you were bleeding.”
Sawyer gave me his famous half-smile, and even though it shouldn’t, my stomach warmed. “You know, no girl has ever treated me quite like you do, Ash.”
“And yet you’re still here,” I mused, setting my good hand on my hip. “Makes me wonder if you’re a glutton for punishment, Sawyer.”
“I’m not happy with you,” he said, practically growling out the words. For a rich, preppy boy in clean-pressed clothes, he sure could sound menacing when he wanted to. Sawyer took a step towards me, tilting his head, his blonde eyebrows drawing together. Before I knew it, I was cornered against a wall, Sawyer’s body blocking out my escape, his arms lifting at my sides, hands flat on the wall. “Not happy,” he repeated.
“Am I supposed to feel sorry? Did you come here hoping for an apology?” I asked, leaning my head back on the wall. Sawyer could take the dominant stance, but I refused to be afraid of him, to let him intimidate me at all. “You’ll leave here disappointed, if you did.”
Sawyer’s mouth thinned, and his eyes dropped to my chin. Or my mouth? Either way, so not happening. “I can’t figure you out,” he said, “as much as I try to. Why is that? What makes you so fucking special? You’re nothing.”
Those words might’ve hurt, but being the only girl on campus, someone who came from a single-parent, poor family, I’d always been expecting to hear them. So I didn’t even blink when he threw out the insult. I simply said, “Let me guess: you think you’re everything. You think you’re the hottest dick to ever walk this campus. You think every girl who meets you automatically swoons on her feet and falls to her knees for you.”
He smirked. “Well, when you put it like that…” Sawyer moved closer, pressing his body against mine, pushing my back harder against the wall. I had no idea what he thought he was doing—trying to get back at me by seducing me or something—but I wasn’t going to fall for it, even if my body was a horny beast who was tired of the self-love in the shower.
“Sawyer,” I whispered his name, about to tell him off, but he then did something I didn’t anticipate. He stepped back, giving me room to breathe, almost like he was showing self-control, and glanced at my splinted hand.
One more week, and then I’d be free of it.
“I never did ask what happened,” he said.
“No,” I told him, holding back a frown. “You didn’t.” I knew he hadn’t asked because A) he was drunk, and B) he didn’t care. Why would Sawyer care about anyone other than himself? If he didn’t have money, I doubted anyone would be his friend.
Sawyer’s emerald gaze met mine. “What happened?”
I debated on what to say. I could come up with a wildly entertaining story about getting into a fight with some ninjas in a dark alley, but for some reason, I wasn’t feeling so facetious. For some reason, I told him the truth, “Travis tried to chain me to his bed, and I got out by dislocating my own thumb.”
He watched me for a few more seconds, the gears in his mind working to process what I’d said. I knew he didn’t believe me, and that was fine. I did have some other evidence of Travis’s involvement in things…and I couldn’t help but wonder if I could flip this little encounter to my advantage.
Sawyer had Travis as a close friend, but beyond that, who else did he have? If I broke apart the two friends, who would he have to help him pick up the pieces? No one, I hoped.
“Funny,” Sawyer finally settled for saying, clearly thinking I was joking.
“Oh,” I said, pretending as if I suddenly remembered something. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. “I do have something you might want to see, too.” I scrolled until I found the video. “You know, I’ve watched it probably too many times, but I just can’t get over it. I mean, what were you thinking, trying to make another girl like me?” As I handed him my phone with the video paused on it, I added, “Haven’t I already told you that you’ve never met a girl like me before?”
“What…” Sawyer could get no other words out, so I rolled my eyes and clicked on the play button myself.
It was kind of funny; I could tell what parts of the video played not by the sounds the video made—my volume was off, due to just being in class—but by the expressions flitting across Sawyer’s handsome face. At first, confusion. Then shock. Last was anger, although I knew it was mixed with a bit of resigned contempt.
He was not a happy camper.
“You owe that lip to Travis,” I told him. “Travis sent me this.” He didn’t so much as send it as he did take the whole damn video on my phone, but Sawyer didn’t need to know all the details. “You’re a fuckup, Sawyer.”
Poor rich boy.
“You can dress them up like me, you can make them look like me, but they’ll never be me.” I locked my phone screen and slid it into my back pocket. “What were you thinking? Why would you do that? I mean, that’s fucked up. Making a girl dye her hair before—” I stopped myself from saying it, not wanting to put more words to it. I’d seen the video, that was bad enough; I didn’t need to go on and on about it.
I…I didn’t like picturing Sawyer with anyone else. Stupid, I knew, because he was the playboy of all playboys, but I couldn’t help how I felt. It just was.
“You were supposed to be simple,” Sawyer muttered, his brows furrowing, a heated glare turning my way. “You were supposed to fall for me like everyone else does. You were supposed to be on my side, not Declan’s. Declan is the one who killed Sabrina—he’s in the wrong, not me.” The emotion was evident in his voice, and I knew he truly believed Declan was the bad guy here.
That’s the thing. He wasn’t.
“You lost your sister, but you didn’t have to lose a friend. I could write in a note that I’m the queen of fucking England and it doesn’t make it true. I could say I’m a distant cousin to Barack Obama, and guess what, that wouldn’t be true either. Just because there was a note blaming Declan doesn’t mean he’s responsible for her death. You’re just being selfish, looking for someone to blame.” I kept myself from bringing up Travis again.
Sawyer wasn’t listening to me. He was too busy shifting the blame to me. “You messed it all up,” he said. “You took my plan and fucked it in the ass. You…” He let out a shaky breath, and I could tell he was having a rough time trying to keep his cool. What he really wanted to do was explode at me, yell at me, maybe even get rough with me. “You’re going to regret everything you’ve done, Ash, I’m going to make sure of it.”