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“No,” Ash said. “We have to, otherwise this year is going to seem way too long. I want to be friends, Declan. I don’t want you to ignore me all year. I’m not asking you to be my best friend, but it would be nice to have someone to talk to after class and at night. Don’t you miss having friends?”
My old friends, Sawyer and Travis, were not exactly the kind of friends you’d want to have. Yes, I had fun growing up, but they weren’t the epitome of friendship. Honestly, I was probably better off without them, as depressing as it was.
Still, what Ash had described, it sounded nice. Normal. Something I thought I’d never have again after losing Sabrina, something I didn’t think I deserved. After all, if Sabrina’s suicide note had blamed me, wasn’t I to blame, at least partly? Sabrina never did anything without thinking it over first.
“I don’t know,” I said after a while. I stared hard at the white wall near my desk, refusing to look back at her. I knew I’d have to look at her eventually, but not while my mind was so caught up in thinking about Sabrina. If I kept thinking about Sabrina, if I kept comparing her and Ash together…I didn’t want to project my feelings for Sabrina onto Ash. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved someone who’d love her for her and not because she reminded him of his dead girlfriend.
Mostly to myself, I whispered, “I don’t know if I’d be a good friend anymore.”
“Okay, then let me revise what I said,” Ash spoke, moving to my side, practically forcing me to look at her. She wore a loose t-shirt and short shorts, the kind that showed off her flawless, tan legs. Legs I shouldn’t have noticed. “Let me be your friend. Stop pushing me away. Besides that, the pressure is off you.”
Let her in to be my friend, but don’t try to be her friend? I wasn’t sure where the line was, but maybe I could do it. Maybe. It would be nice to have someone to talk to, especially with the crap Sawyer was constantly trying to pull.
I studied her a bit more than I should, eyeing her almost suspiciously. “Why would you want to do that?” It didn’t sound like the arrangement would benefit her at all.
The way she looked at me right then made my heart skip a beat. Such a stupid thing to say, but it was true. Her look was intense, serious, and so ungodly beautiful. It was an expression Sabrina had often given me when she had her good days. “Because,” she said, “you need a friend, and I’m willing to be that friend, even if you’re not mine.”
Need a friend? I didn’t think I needed a friend, not really.
It took me a long, long time to say, “Fine.”
A smile spread on her lips—lips that were full and red; lips that I could easily imagine devouring. “Good. Now let’s get back to the pizza…though it’s probably cold by now.” Ash returned to the pizza on the floor, sitting cross-legged. Her grey eyes lifted to me, waiting for me to go sit beside her.
She’d already bought the pizza. It’d be a shame if it went to waste, right?
I slowly moved beside her and grabbed another piece.
This could be a really bad idea. Maybe the worst mistake of my sophomore year at Hillcrest. I could regret this like no other, and yet I’d agreed to it. To have her be my friend. It sounded so juvenile, and yet the notion of having someone there for me—someone who wasn’t my dad—was appealing.
I hoped Ash wouldn’t come to regret it. Being my friend would put a target on her back, but it didn’t look like she cared. But above all that, I hoped I wouldn’t regret this. I prayed with a desperate heart I’d be able to keep myself in line.
I don’t think my heart could handle being broken twice.
Chapter Eleven – Ash
Kelsey thought I should go to the party, while I was of the mind that I should just stay in with Declan. Our first Friday night as friends—or, more accurately, me being his friend—I probably shouldn’t spend it going to a party without him, and I knew without a doubt he’d never want to come with me.
But Kelsey was relentless, texting me constantly, telling me that we only lived once, so why not see how the other side lived, blah, blah, blah. Kelsey was a fan of parties and drinking and all that. I could do it, but I could also do without it and be content. It didn’t matter either way for me.
The only upside to going to this party would be to see how Sawyer lived, do a little snooping to see if I could dig up some dirt on him. I sort of viewed Declan as a cinnamon roll. A cute cinnamon roll that had to be protected at all costs. Declan just didn’t seem like the type of person who’d stage a suicide.
To do something that? You had to be messed up in the head, and Sawyer seemed way too cocky and confident about everything. No one was born with that level of confidence. Sawyer and Declan used to be friends. It wasn’t a far reach to suggest Sawyer didn’t like how close Declan and his sister were. Maybe he snapped, his confident facade crumbled temporarily, and he lashed out at Sabrina over it. Maybe now he regretted hurting Sabrina and wanted to make Declan pay.
Only sick minds thought of torture.
Ugh. Damn it. I was going to the party.
After class I showered and started getting ready. My stomach was too tumultuous, so I didn’t eat. Declan wasn’t there, and a selfish part of me hoped I’d be gone before he got back, but it wasn’t meant to be. He walked in just as I was pulling up my pants. I was certain he got a flash of my pink panties, but oh, well.
Declan was quick to shut the door behind him, his dark gaze averting to the side. “What are you doing?” he practically hissed, his cheeks turning red a bit. It was so adorable, so innocent, that I completely forgot I stood there in nothing but pants and a bra.
Whoops. Guess I should’ve changed in the bathroom.
I turned, giving him my back. If he couldn’t hold himself because my back was too sexy for him, well, we had a lot of problems to deal with. I rummaged through the drawers, feeling like all my clothes weren’t meant for parties. The jeans I wore were ripped at the knees and so skin tight I could hardly breathe in them. All of my shirts…none felt flashy enough.
Not that I wanted to draw attention to myself, but…no, that’s exactly what I wanted. Sawyer had to know I wasn’t playing his game, and that I’d already picked my side: Declan’s.
“I’m changing,” I said, finding a grey shirt with a few sparkly bits and sliding it on. My hair was wavy, some makeup actually on my face. I thought I looked kind of hot, but when I spun to view Declan, who hadn’t moved an inch, I started to wonder if I just looked like a dolled-up troll. “What’s wrong? Do I look funny?” I didn’t put on shoes yet, so now was the time to figure out if my outfit looked good or not. If there was something wrong with it, with me, I had to know.
