I feel like a crazy stalker girl semi-hiding behind the little free library box so I can keep an eye on Dare’s car. I’m worried he’ll spot me. He and Anae are standing in a group of their friends chatting. I’m not encouraged by the fact that she is also wearing the same outfit from the video. It’s starting to feel very much like I’m grasping at straws here.
Then they say their goodbyes. Anae has a big smile on her stupid face as she turns, her high pony bouncing, and follows Dare to his car.
Please don’t get in.
She did send me that video. She’s probably crazy enough to coordinate her hair and outfit to make sure she matched the video she was using.
The last straw slips through my fingers as she opens up the passenger side door, laughing at something he says, and gets in. My gaze drifts to him. He’s smiling that same smile that melts me as he gets in the driver’s side.
I want to die.
This hurts a lot more than it should.
I know it’s my own fault. I read into what he said last night and interpreted it the way I wanted it to be. I wanted so badly for them to be over, I just… tricked myself into finding evidence to support it.
I sit down on the black slatted bench on the quad. I’m visible now, but I don’t care.
He’s backing out, so I doubt he’ll see me, anyway.
I feel like a fool.
I feel like what people have been calling me all day—a pathetic skank.
I swallow past a lump in my throat and take a couple of breaths.
It doesn’t matter.
I tell myself that, but I don’t believe it.
This is exactly what I was afraid would happen today.
A familiar voice calls out, “Hey,” and a moment later, Hannah sits down on the bench beside me, adjusting her purse strap and smiling until she sees my face. “Rough day?” she asks sympathetically
I nod woodenly. “Really rough.”
She gives me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. I’d invite you over to vent about it, but considering Anae would probably be there, I don’t think that would help.”
“No, it sure wouldn’t.”
Probably be there.
Her words just trigger more questions. Is he taking Anae straight home, or are they hanging out? Will he take her to his house, or go to hers?
I feel sick.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hannah asks.
“I think I made a really big mistake.”
The words slip out and my eyes well up with tears.
Hannah puts her books down on the bench and leans over to hug me. “We can go somewhere else if you need to talk. We could go get ice cream,” she offers, pulling back and smiling. “My treat.”
I offer a watery smile because it’s a nice offer. “Thanks, but I can’t.”
Some guy walking by calls out, “Hey, Aubrey, show us that ass.”
Hannah shoots him a dirty look. “Keep it moving, perv.”
I shake my head, looking down. “I hate everything.”
“Chase Darington is very persuasive,” she tells me. “When he sets his mind to something, it’s pretty much a done deal. If he convinced you to do something stupid, you wouldn’t be the first.”
“Since I met him, I feel like I’ve torpedoed my whole life.”
She nods sympathetically. “Sounds about right. He’s not a good person, Aubrey. He and Anae are two peas in a pod, and she’s definitely not a good person. She’s sick.”
As easily as all of this spills out of me, I’m at war with myself as far as believing it. I still don’t want to. I want my illusion back. I want Dare telling me I’m his and he’s mine, and I want it to be true.
“You’re sure you can’t hang out? We could go to your place if you want,” she says. “I’m supposed to go over to my friend Parker’s for dinner, but she’ll understand if I can’t make it.”
I shake my head. “No, I can’t. I wish I could. I really do want to be your friend, I think you’re great, but I have family stuff right now that takes priority and pretty much swallows up all my time. Unfortunately, I just don’t have time to be a good friend right now.”
“So?” She shrugs. “My friendship doesn’t come with a minimum time requirement. Just because you’re busy doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. Shoot me a text whenever you feel like it or need to talk. If you have time to hang out, cool. If not, no biggie.”
I crack a smile. “If you’re not a sapphire, this school has no business sorting students into houses.”
She grins. “I am, actually.”
“I figured.” At our school, the sapphire house stands for kindness and friendship. “I’m an emerald,” I tell her.
“How funny. I must be drawn to the courageous. My best friend Parker is an emerald, too. You know what?” she says, like a light bulb just went off. “Dare’s onyx. Those onyx guys are always bad news.”