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This was going to be so much more fun than I thought.
Chapter Nine – Ash
Inviting me to a party. Who did Travis think I was—some chick who’s never seen a movie in her life? I knew what he thought would happen at this party, or at the very least what he wanted to happen, and there was no way in hell I was going to fall for his tricks. And Sawyer? Rich boys were not my thing. They might be nice to look at, but personality-wise? They were lacking. Cliched but true.
Another note was taped to the door, and just like the other one, this one was done in a red marker. It said Killer in big, red letters, and I rolled my eyes as I yanked it off the door. I saw our neighbors had their door propped open, and though I had no way to know if they saw who did it or even if they’d done it themselves, I marched over to their door and stepped inside.
The two boys were on their laptops, sitting on their respective beds. Both glanced up when I entered, both of their mouths falling a little, like I was some mythical creature they knew existed but had never seen. The unicorn of Hillcrest.
“Hey,” I said, giving them an obviously fake smile. It was my bitch smile, but I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned, all these boys were complicit. Even if they didn’t do the taping or the writing of the note themselves, they still stood back and let it happen. “Sorry to interrupt whatever this is, but I just thought I’d see if you guys knew anything about this.” I held out the hand-written note, flashing the Killer sign at them.
Neither boy looked like they wanted to speak. More than fine. I was fine with commanding the room, since it was apparent neither of these two could.
“It’s funny, because I’m pretty sure this falls into the realm of bullying, and I doubt the dean would like to hear about his son being bullied by a group of guys who couldn’t get a girlfriend if their lives depended on it.” My eyebrows lifted, and I held in a gasp. “Maybe I should install cameras—then I’d be able to see anyone who walks in front of our door.”
Still, the two boys said nothing, and they continued to say nothing as I left. I made sure to drop the note on the counter in their kitchenette area before leaving. I wasn’t going to take that back to my room.
When I unlocked the door and entered, I set the pizza on my desk and dropped my backpack on my chair. The shower was running, and as I went to the fridge and got out a water bottle, I took a nice, long swig. Puffing myself up to rich boys constantly made me thirsty.
It also made me another kind of thirsty, because when I heard the shower stop, I wondered what Declan looked like underneath the clothes he wore. He didn’t seem overly muscled, but he was most definitely lean. I liked them lean; when a guy’s chest was so muscled his boobs were bigger than mine? It was a bit too much for me. I liked them smooth and flat, although a nicely defined abdomen was always a plus.
By the time Declan came out of the bathroom, I had the TV on and the pizza boxed splayed on the floor. I’d just vacuumed yesterday, so the carpet was clean. I threw a look over my shoulder, meaning to glance at him and tell him that I’d brought us dinner—because I rarely saw the boy eat—but my words caught in the back of my throat.
Declan was wet. Obviously. I mean, he’d just come out of the shower, but with his brown hair slicked back, water droplets on his neck, and his dark eyes focused on me? He was…well, even wearing clothes, he was cute. A devastating kind of cute. The kind of cute you dreamt about as a little girl discovering what it meant to crush on someone for the first time.
“Pizza” was all that came out of my mouth, and I had to look away from him, hating that I sounded so awe-struck. It wasn’t like he was naked. He was fully clothed, so there was no ogling to be had. No body to see. No dick to drool over. It was literally as G-rated as it got, and yet I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering to certain places.
Bad, bad Ash. So not what I should be thinking about. Declan was off-limits in so many ways. Even if he wasn’t depressed about what happened to Sabrina, he was my roommate. You couldn’t date your roommate; even hooking up with them was asking for trouble. What if everything fell out, crashed and burned in the worst of ways, and you couldn’t transfer rooms? No, it was best for everyone involved to keep their hands to themselves, boobs in their shirts, and private parts in their pants.
“I’m not hungry,” Declan said, about to go to his desk.
Since he was moving so freaking slow, I was able to dart off the floor and slide myself in his chair before he could do the same. While he was busy giving me a half-hearted dirty look, I pointed to the pizza boxes, finally able to sound more like myself and less like a caveman, “I bought us pizza. Eat some of it with me. It’s not a request.”
Declan crossed his arms; the movement made my eyes fall to his chest, at the slightly-wet fabric clinging across it. “You don’t get to order me around. You’re just my roommate, nothing else.”
I could’ve told him that his dad had told me to watch out for him, but I had the feeling Declan wouldn’t like hearing that. Call me psychic. So instead I said, “Come on. It’s been almost a week. Isn’t it time for us to have our bonding moment? I thought that’s what roomies do—”
Apparently the thought of bonding with me was the worst thought Declan could’ve had, for the expression his face wore right then stopped me.
“Okay,” I switched tactics. “We don’t have to bond, but I do want to see you eat.” I got out of his wooden desk chair, moving closer to him to tug on his sleeve’s fabric. “We don’t have to talk. We can eat in silence.” It sounded like a boring ass dinner to me, but if that’s what got him to sit down and eat, then I’d be fine with it.
Declan let me lead him to the pizza boxes on the floor, heaving a sigh as we sat down. I didn’t get plates; we’d eat straight out of the boxes like animals in the wild. If he really wanted to not eat with me, it would’ve been easy for him to pull away from the tiny grip I had on his sleeve, but he didn’t, so I was choosing to call it a win.
I watched Declan open the pizza box closest to him, waiting for him to take a piece first. We sat a foot apart, and yet it felt like there was so much distance between us. After telling me about Sabrina, Declan had closed himself off. He hardly spoke to me, hardly looked at me. Honestly, it bugged the shit out of me. It would be a long year if we couldn’t get along.
Don’t get me wrong, I knew Declan was dealing with a lot of stuff right now. The whole school hating him, and all that. I knew it could weigh even the strongest person down, but he didn’t need to take it out on me. I hated being given the cold shoulder. Hated it with a burning passion so strong I couldn’t describe it.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know what kind you’d like.” I got a cheese and a pepperoni. Those were two safe bets when it came to pizza toppings. Unless he was the sort of person who thought pineapple should go on pizza…if he thought that, there was no salvaging this situation. We could never be friends. Yes, I was that vehement against pineapple on pizza.
A muscle in his jaw clenched. “It’s fine,” he muttered, slowly taking a slice. Meanwhile I was too busy staring at his jaw, at the dark stubble on it. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and it made him look older, made his lips look extra inviting.
Okay, don’t look there, Ash. Definitely don’t look there. Need I remind myself about the whole off-limits thing?
I grabbed a piece out of the box in front of me, pulling my knee up to my chest as I ate. Nothing good was on TV yet. It was too early for new shows, the time of day when newscasts were on. With the pizza in one hand, I went for the remote, starting to flip the channels. Declan was off in his own world, but me? I needed some mindless entertainment while I ate, whether that mindless entertainment was watching other Hillcrest students in the union or a rerun of an old TV show, I didn’t care.
I flipped past a news station, only catching the tail end of their story about some serial killer called the Angel Maker. Eh. America was obsessed with serial killers, and any new ones that evaded capture always made national news. Me? I couldn’t care less about them. There were too many freaks out there, too many other losers who, in my opinion, were worse. Most of humanity sucked, but maybe that was just my cynicism talking.
I was very cynical when it came to most things.
