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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?”
