“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I say, trying to step forward, but Rex blocks my way.
“Move, man,” I yell at my friend. But he won’t budge. He stays put and gives me a look that tells me to calm the fuck down and back the hell up.
“Fuck,” I grit out. I pull at my hair and pace back and forth in the small space I’m confined to. I look at Eva, silently pleading for her to look back.
“See what he’s done, Eva? Why are you even with this piece of shit,” Trevor seethes, looking at me when she starts to walk over to him to assess his wounds.
“Shut the fuck up,” I yell, lunging for his ass again only to fall short as Rex pushes me forcefully up against the wall and back into my corner.
Eva continues assessing the damage I’ve done. What the fuck! Why is she touching him? Stop placing your hands on that piece of shit, darlin’. I might not look any worse for wear, barely having a scratch on me, but to hell if I can stand the sight of her hands on him right now.
The fact that I’m not her first priority breaks my already shaky heart. It speaks volumes about the many things that have been running through my mind all day, and the nightmare that I’ve been trying to avoid. Even though I had been fueled by the events of the day and one too many shots of Woodford Reserve, I know I’m not totally in the wrong for what just happened.
It’s the look she gives me, though, when she glances at me over her shoulder that has me questioning why I wanted to fight for her in the first place.
She doesn’t say a word, only stands in the middle of all our friends and gives me a baffled look that reaches deep into my soul and scares the hell out of me.
“I want to go home,” she says, beginning to cry.
“I’ll take you,” I begin.
“No,” she yells so loud everyone in the group flinches.
Eva turns to Gwen. Gwen nods and hooks her arm through her best friend’s. Quickly, both girls start to make their way toward the exit. At first, I stand there, shocked, as the realization that she doesn’t want me slowly sinks in.
“Eva,” I yell after her. “Wait!”
When that doesn’t work, I take a different approach.
“Darlin’, where are you going? Come back!”
But she’s gone. I watch her walk out the door and know I have to let her go. Whatever it is that she’s fighting, I can’t help her. Hell, with everything that’s just happened, I can’t even help myself right now.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eva
Neither Gwen nor I say one word when we leave Gatsby’s. The car ride home is silent. We don’t even bother turning on the radio.
When we arrive back at the apartment, I take straight to the bathroom. Stripping my clothes and makeup, I hope to strip the night away as well. I hop in the shower and turn the hot water up as high as I can. I want to feel it burn.
Steam encircles me and with it agony, misery and pain claw at my heart. Tears fall before I even notice I’m crying. Curled up in a little ball on the floor of my shower, I sob harder than I have in my whole life.
I pull at my hair, painfully, as my bawling consumes me. I want to make sense of everything that has suddenly happened in my life but feel like I can’t even begin to process it all.
Why did Trevor do that? What was Noah thinking? Did he think I was asking for it? Did he think I was enjoying Trevor’s hands and lips on me?
Why am I so irritated at Noah anyway? So he worked late. So he didn’t call. I was already at the party anyway. He had told me to catch a ride with Gwen. Maybe he knew he would be working late. He did try when he first got there, and I was the one to brush him off.
What did I say to him last night? Maybe it was something really stupid. God, why for the life of me, can’t I remember?
And damn what Gwen said to me the night before.
Would I really not give up everything just for the chance to be with him?
When I’ve sat on the bottom of the shower floor long enough to have myself convinced that I just maybe could give up everything to be with Noah, fear once again rears its ugly head.
Eventually, I make my way out of the shower, find my pajamas, and curl up on my bed. A knock sounds at my door, and Gwen slowly pushes it open. She looks at me and I think she might say something. I wait, but sometimes there are no words.
