Scarlett helps me up. “Can I do anything else for you before I go? We’re going to make sure everyone leaves.”
Micah eyes me for a second before he focuses on Scarlett. “That would be appreciated. Get everyone the fuck out of here.”
She nods and walks past him, patting him on his furry Wookiee chest as she goes.
I grip the counter with both hands, then finally turn on the faucet and cup some water in my hand, swishing my mouth out.
Micah opens a drawer and pulls out a new toothbrush, unpackages it, and swipes some toothpaste on the bristles for me.
I give him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.” I wet the brush and stick it in my mouth.
“No, Daph. Don’t apologize. You aren’t responsible for any of this.” He rubs his hand over his head, frustration mounting, as he watches me. “I should have anticipated this. She said she was going to show everyone.”
I frown, lean over the sink and spit, then rinse my mouth out again. “What do you mean?” I rinse the toothbrush out and Micah takes it from me, placing it in his toothbrush holder.
He heaves out a sigh. “She was up here.”
I blink, staring up at him as we exit the bathroom. “What do you mean, ‘up here’?”
“She was fucking waiting for me when I got home from the game. She let people into the house for the party, knowing I’d be home pretty quickly after, and then she came up here to wait for me.”
“And what did she say?”
“Nothing that matters, Daph.”
“Micah, please tell me.”
“I told her to leave—multiple times, I was very clear—but she still offered herself up to me, and when I refused, she said some pretty awful things about you, then threatened me again with the video. She stormed out, and I asked Beau and Griff to make sure she didn’t hang around.”
My brow pinches together. “Yeah, Beau mentioned that. I wish you had said something.”
“I hoped she was bluffing. I never dreamed she’d want to give up holding that over our heads. And I figured since she’d left the party, we didn’t have to worry about her for the rest of the night.”
I press my lips together. “I don’t know what to think.”
He huffs out a breath. “You’re upset. With me.”
“Of course, I’m fucking upset, Micah! Half of our school watched you eat me out and heard me begging you for it. Begging.” My chest heaves. “How are you not moreupset?”
He grabs my biceps. “So sue me if I’m fucking relieved she can’t blackmail us anymore. It’s out there. We don’t have to worry about her sorry ass.”
I burst into tears. “That’s just it. She’s been hurting me to get to you all this time. There’s no guarantee that she’ll stop, Micah. She hates me.” I hate that I get so mad I cry. “I’m the one who was tripped in the hallway, was made to miss the committee meeting and endangered my scholarship, had my car whipped creamed, was pushed from a ladder, was vilified for the shape of my body, was mortified when the guy I thought I was seeing showed up as her date and kissed her in front of everyone!” Once I get going, I can’t stop. I throw up my arms in frustration. “And that’s not even all of it. You only know part of it. She’s sniped at me so many times, I’ve lost track. Made fun of me for being nothing more than who I am. All because she’s out to hurt you. Because she still wants you. I’m caught in the middle. I feel like I’m never going to win, Micah.” My hands shake. Deep down, I know he doesn’t deserve me blowing up at him. But I don’t know what to do with all this. I’m at my limit.
He laces his fingers together and rests them on top of his head.
“What do you want me to do that I haven’t already, Daphne?” His calm, collected demeanor frustrates me.
I wipe at the tears streaming down my face, embarrassed. “I don’t know, Micah. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know if I can do this.” My eyes slam shut. “I think I need to go home and calm down so I can think rationally. Because right now, it hurts and I’m humiliated.” The stony look on his face is reminiscent of the intimidating guy who’d sat outside the headmaster’s office all those weeks ago. And that hurts, too. He’s shutting down. This is not my Micah.
“Daph, I can’t tell you what to do or how to feel. I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry. You already know how I feel about you.” He spins on his heel, heading back into his bedroom. He reaches behind his back, locating the zipper of his costume, and pulls it off of his frame with jerky movements before rolling it up and throwing it in the corner. He sits down on his bed, head in his hands.
Fresh tears sting the back of my eyes. “I need to be alone to think. I’m going to go.”
He nods, but doesn’t look up, doesn’t say anything.
His walls are inching back up into place by the second.
It’s my fault, but I know I have a right to be upset, too. We both do.