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Ash stopped walking, crossing her arms. “Why should I trust a single word you say? How do I know this isn’t just another game to you?” When I said nothing, she muttered, “Everything’s always a game to you, isn’t it? You never stop and let yourself feel anything real.”
Feeling something real—what good would it do me? What good would any of it do me? Why would I want to feel something real when that real thing could be taken away by the cruelest thing of all, fate? It was something Ash would never understand. I’d lost so much, blamed myself; there was no more feeling anything for me.
“I deserve that,” I relented, hating to agree with her. But doing so made her expression soften, just a bit. “I do. I was an ass, and I deserved what you did at the party, which is why I’m trying to make it up to you now. Let me take you on a date, Ash. Let me show you there’s another side to me.” The arm holding onto her skateboard shifted, and I watched as her eyes fell to it.
Go on a date with me, and you’ll get your stupid skateboard back.
It’d been ages since I took any girl out on a date, so I’d be a bit rusty, but it’d be worth it. Lower her guard, make her like me, wrap her around my pinky before I use her up and throw her away. And I would—I would throw her away like fucking trash. I would’ve been nicer about it had she not embarrassed me, but since she did, it was no holds barred. She’d pay for doing what she did.
“That’s the thing,” Ash spoke, taking a step closer to me. She didn’t reach for her skateboard, but I tensed all the same. A small, five-foot girl making me tense. How stupid. “I don’t think there’s another side to you. I think this is all one big game, and I’m choosing not to play.” She moved away, turning her head to the side. “You really want my skateboard? Keep it. I’m not going on a date with you.” She started walking again, her hands fists at her sides.
My presence really riled her up, didn’t it? Good, it meant I was under her skin, and if I was under her skin, it meant she was thinking about me, that she’d think about me long after this conversation was over.
“Come on,” I said, trailing after her yet again. God, I wasn’t used to begging a girl for anything. This one…she was making me work for it, and it annoyed the shit out of me. Like she was some supermodel, too good for me. “One date. That’s all.”
Ash said nothing as she kept moving, a determined look on her face. I lost myself for a moment as I stared at her, noting the way the corners of her eyes wrinkled just a bit, as if she was lost in thought.
Finally, her feet halted, and she turned to me, full of attitude. “One date?” she asked, and I nodded perhaps a bit too quickly. One date with me usually meant sex, but in this case we were talking about an actual date. Me, spending money on her, taking her out, all that shit.
Fuck it, I was dreading it.
“I’ll agree to go, as long as you give me a detailed list of where you’re taking me and at what time. I want it handwritten, signed and dated by you, and I’m going to leave it in my room, in my dresser. If something happens to me, I want to make sure all signs point to you.”
Did Ash think I was stupid enough to try to hurt her physically? No, physical pain wasn’t really my thing. Mental anguish was. I wanted her and Declan to feel the absolute agony I did each and every day. I wanted them both to wake up hating the world, believe in no happily ever afters, to generally be as miserable as I was.
It was a longshot, but I was pretty sure I could do it; it would just take time.
“All right. I’ll pick you up at five on Friday,” I said, grinning, “note ready. I’ll even hand it to Declan, if you want.”
“You will not be coming into my room again,” she said, shooting me a dire frown. If she kept frowning at me so much, I might start to like it. She better be careful. Ash went to reach for her skateboard, but I jerked it away from her. “Ah, ah. After the date, Ash.”
She let out a stifled groan.
“All good things come to those who wait,” I said, feeling like a fortune cookie. Good things would eventually come to me in the form of a miserable Declan and Ash; I was prepared to wait and work hard for them. “Don’t worry,” I spoke to her pouting face, “I’ll keep it safe for you.” I gave her a half smile before walking away. Being the first one to leave the conversation, after I’d had to run after her twice, was a bit of an ego-booster.
I was sure she watched me leave, too.
Now I just had to figure out where we’d be going for our date.
Chapter Eighteen – Ash
A mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake. My mind would not stop nagging me the rest of the week. When Declan asked what was wrong, I shrugged and told him never mind. I would wait until the last possible second to tell him about the date with Sawyer on Friday. A part of me hoped I’d be able to find a skateboard on some kind of online marketplace nearby, but as it turned out, the area around Hillcrest was not one made for skaters. I think I was the only student on campus who owned one.
Long story short: buying another one was currently out of the picture, so I had to go on a date with Sawyer.
But you know what? That was fine. It was totally fine, because I was prepared for anything and everything Sawyer would throw at me. He thought he’d fly right under my radar? He’d have to try again. I didn’t trust the rich kid, and I highly doubted I ever would. His need for revenge ran too deep—plus, when he talked, it was painfully obvious he was calculating, always thinking about the next step in the equation.
How the hell did I wind up in the middle of all of this? Just by circumstance, being the first girl at Hillcrest, and rooming with Declan Briggs, the dean’s son. I’d thought rooming with the dean’s son would mean less drama, not more. I mean, who wanted Declan to run to his daddy anytime something bad happened?
That was the thing, though: Declan never ran to Dean Briggs. I hadn’t seen Declan talk to his dad once, actually. Maybe that was why Dean Briggs had told me to keep an eye on him; Declan kept to himself, refusing to open up to his dad. I was another pair of eyes on him, and given everything the other students did to him, there couldn’t be enough eyes on him.
I still wondered why Dean Briggs didn’t do something, though. Send out a memo, a campus-wide email that said something along the lines of bullying isn’t tolerated…but maybe the etiquette for things like this was different among the rich. Maybe all the rich people just pretended bullying didn’t exist once you hit a certain income threshold.
It was late Thursday night, and Declan and I were both knee-deep in studying for some upcoming tests, when I heard myself sigh. I couldn’t keep the date with Sawyer a secret from him much longer. He’d find out, and if he found out from someone other than me, he’d probably get upset with me, which made total sense. I’d get mad at me too, if I was him.
I turned on my desk chair, studying the back of his head. He’d just gotten his hair cut; its brown lengths were much shorter now than they were before, almost too short to run fingers through while…
Hah. No, no. Don’t think of that.
