“Just forget it.” I shoulder past Jude and rush over to the pair of boys, now on the ground. Carlton is pinned beneath Zayne’s elbow, and I grab Zayne by his other arm and pull him to his feet. I yank his body in my direction to focus him. A stream of blood trickles from his nose. “Oh, no,” I say. I resist the urge to reach up and touch his face, because not only is it covered in blood, but it’s probably sore from being punched by Carlton.
Carlton stands up and dusts himself off. “Just wait till I press charges against you, Silverman.” He grimaces at me one last time before descending the stairs.
I turn to face the sea of phones filming us. “Enough, already.” I use my hands to shield my face. “Stop recording us. Just leave us alone.”
“Dot.” Zayne touches my shoulder. “Let’s just go.”
As we walk through the entryway to the front door, I can’t help but realize the ridiculousness of it all. It’s not like we’re celebrities. It shouldn’t matter what’s going on in our personallives. Who likes who, who’s fighting or angry at someone else. But it does matter. Because Little Birdie says it does.
Beau’s words from earlier tonight echo in my mind.Try not to be a headline tonight.
I tried, Beau,I think with each defeated step I take to the car.I really did try.
Chapter Nineteen
I don’t speak to Zayne at first.
I’m not sure if I’m mad at him just yet. He should have never engaged in that fight, even if Carlton did push him first. But then again, I’m not sure I can be mad. He was defending me.
And now his nose is bleeding.
I risk a glance at him. We’re standing outside the Evans house, at the end of the driveway. I have no idea what we’re supposed to do now. Do we go our separate ways? Should we talk? I should at least offer him a ride home in case he doesn’t have one.
Before I can ask, Zayne stuffs his hands in his pockets and sighs. “I don’t know what came over me back there. I shouldn’t have done that. But hearing him talk about you like that…” He meets my gaze. “I didn’t like it. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s true.”
I shrug, but I feel his words all the way down to my toes. “At least you’re sorry.”
“I never said I was sorry. I know it was wrong to hit him, but I’d still do it again.”
I inhale sharply. I have no idea what to say to that. So instead, I ask, “Did you drive here?”
He nods. “You?”
“Yeah.”
The little puffs of air Zayne is exhaling are visible in the cold night air. “What about your friend?”
“That’s right,” I say. “I forgot I drove Rue here. I guess I’ll wait for her in my car.” But I linger in place, not quite ready to walk away. “I think I have a first aid kit in my glove compartment.” I wince at his face, where blood is trickling from his nose and mingling with his vampire makeup. “Can I help you clean some of that blood off?”
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then he nods. He follows me to my car, and I turn on the engine and crank up the heater as soon as we get in.
Zayne rubs his hands together in front of the vent, and I shuffle through the messy middle console until I find what I’m looking for. I grin and hold it up like a hard-earned prize. “First-aid kit.” I place it in his hands. “I’m just grateful all you walked away with is a bloody nose.”
“Thanks.” He smiles and takes the kit. He grabs an alcohol wipe and begins cleaning the blood off his face.
When he’s done, he turns to look at me. I’m still staring. I transfer my gaze to the steering wheel, squeezing it with more force than necessary, and I clear my throat. “You were right, by the way.”
“About what?”
“Emma. The book.” I study my hands. “I loved it.”
There’s a long pause, and when I look at Zayne again, he’s grinning. “You actually read it?”
“Every word. Along with all the notes you left me in the margins.”
He chuckles. “Couldn’t have you under-appreciating the good parts.”
“I wouldn’t have.”
