“If C or Anvil had been in the basement, would you have been down for drugging one of them?”
I shake my head, not looking at him.
“So I’m the lucky one. Why?”
I shrug.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re still mad about high school, and you wanted to see me again. That’s part of the reason you came. You knew I’d be there.”
“I did not. You know what, Trick? On top of being a homicidal sociopath, you’re also a cocky jerk.”
He laughs, and, even though I’m angry and frustrated, it curls my toes with pleasure to hear it. That easy laughter reminds me of better days, when he wasn’t so jaded and rough. I drag my mind away from the boy he used to be with me. Falling for him in any way now would make me an idiot, like one of those fruitcake women who wrote letters to Ted Bundy in jail.
“You’re lucky you developed that smart mouth after you left high school.”
“Why?”
“Because, Laurelyn, I thought you were a sweet innocent girl I shouldn’t corrupt. I let you off the hook.”
“Is that how you see it?” Remembering the excruciating heartbreak of having dated and lost him so quickly, I can’t believe he thinks he did me a favor. What about the humiliation of finding out he’d been with dozens of my friends?
“That definitely is how I see it.”
“And all it would’ve taken to not get ghosted by you would’ve been to flip you off?”
“You broke up with me.”
“Because you were screwing everyone!”
“No, I wasn’t. I used a lot of them, and the bigger the brat, the filthier the sex. There are a lot of girls who can’t look me in the eye to this day when I pass them on the street.”
“And you don’t sound the least bit sorry.”
“I’m not. I got off. They got off. The fact that they cheated on their boyfriends with me was their decision. And their letting me do dirty things to them was their choice, too. I never forced anyone, didn’t even coerce them.”
I exhale furiously. “You’re such a prick.”
“Someone should teach me a lesson. Oh, right, someone did. Her name was Laurelyn.”
That’s a shocking thing for him to say and almost derails my train of thought. “What? No. I didn’t teach you anything. I walked away from you, yes. But you moved on that same night! You didn’t even leave the dance to do it.”
“Meaningless.”
“To you.”
His blue eyes are dark and cool. “You didn’t answer my texts. Can’t have meant that much to you either.”
Pushing my hair back from my eyes, I glare at him. “You sent three texts, one of them only an hour after you screwed another girl from the homecoming court, proving just how interchangeable we all were to you.”
“That didn’t prove a thing, except that I’m good at putting on a show. When I’m fine, I seem fine. When I’m not, I still seem fine.”
“Are you saying you were upset?”
He shrugs, that enigmatic gesture that’s his signature move. I resent it. Because when he pays attention to you it’s like having the sun shine down from blue skies. And then you learn you’re one of many, and not even the one he’s been the most intimate with. And if you call him on it, he shrugs it off. No explanation. No apology. One day I felt like the brightest, most beautiful star in the night sky. The next, I was dead to him. It was crushing.
“You accused me of cheating. I wasn’t. I was with them before I started dating you, not during.”
“But you were still texting with them. Still friendly. Still flirting.”
