I wait a minute, and when he doesn’t go on, I drop the towel and get under the spray. The heat from the water pierces my skin and soaks straight through my bones until I’m left tingling. I just stand there and try and get warm for a moment before I start scrubbing my skin to wash away the vomit and grime. The smell at first is vile, but after my second pass over the washcloth, I’m able to just enjoy the shower. Once I’m happy with the state of my body, I brush my teeth, and then again for good measure.
My mind keeps skipping back over to Harley being in here with me. He can’t see me, at least I hope he can’t, but there’s something intimate about me washing myself with him in the room. I begrudgingly admit to myself that I like the feeling. He’s probably hating every second of standing here and waiting for me, but my mind is still too foggy. I really couldn’t give a damn about what he’s thinking.
When I shut off the water and wrap myself back up in the towel, I wait for the steam to dissipate enough to start dressing. It’s a Saturday, so there’s no classes for me to get to, only extracurriculars, and I’m not going down to the dining hall after last night. I may never eat down there again.
Once I’ve pulled my pajamas on, I look down at myself and see the bruises that have formed over my arms. There’s two perfect hands, one on each arm, like I’ve been grabbed roughly. I place one of my own hands over the prints, and it fits near perfectly. A girl has put them on me. No guy at this school has hands as small as mine. It was probably Avery. She would have grabbed me and shoved me into the bathroom so I was safe enough until I came to and she could get me expelled for drinking. That girl is an evil psycho, but I grin at the thought. Maybe it was stupid of me, but I’ve started admiring her work. She has a good understanding of the school rules, and she’s working hard to exploit them and get me out of here.
I open the stall door and step out into the bathroom with my bag slung over my shoulder. Harley is propped up on the sinks, and he’s glaring at his phone. He glances up at me and shoves the phone into his back pocket like it's offended him. His eyes roam over me, like Ash’s had down at the staircase, like he’s looking for injuries, and it makes me fucking livid.
“Is there something specific you need, becauseIreally need a nap,” I croak out, my throat still sore. I need water and something to eat. I need ten hours of sleep.
“What happened to you? What the fuck did Joey do this time?”
I laugh at him. Was he the only one who wasn’t in on it? Why had Avery left him out? “I’m fine. I’m still standing. Go back to Annabelle and enjoy your weekend.”
I make to move around him, and Harley’s hands shoot out to grab me. They land right on the bruises, and I grunt at the sharp sting of pain. His eyes widen and he loosens his grip on me as he pulls me into his chest. It’s not a hug, not even close, but now I’m pressed up against him and I can feel every inch of his rock-hard torso pressing against me until I want to melt into him. Danger, Will Robinson. Big fucking danger.
“Fuck Annabelle, she’s in on this. Did Avery do it?” His eyes dance around my face, and I think he’s judging how willing I am to kiss him. A shot of fear shoots through my blood. I can’t kiss him. For one, I have no idea how to even kiss someone. My experience so far is just the forced kiss from Joey, and I mostly just laid there for that. For another, if he kisses me now and then leaves this room and goes back to hating me, I will break. I want him too much. So instead of facing my fears head-on, I focus on the tattoo on his jaw like a coward. It’s moving as he clenches his jaw, and I think of the little heart pendant I have back in my room that belongs to him.
You before my blood.If I tell him what Avery had done, would he put me before his blood? Did I want him to? Now that I had started to question Avery’s motives, I wasn’t sure I wanted to drive a wedge between them.
The longer I stay silent, the more agitated Harley becomes, until his chest is heaving and his hands begin to shake where he holds me.
“Fuck, can you just stay alive? Can you just leave and keep breathing? Is that too much to ask?” he ground out.
“Afraid your cousin is going to get life for my murder? I'm sure he can buy his way out of it. I'd rather risk death than leave here. Do you hear me? I’d rather die here than go back to Mounts Bay and become what's waiting for me there.”
He stares down at me, his eyes burning into my skull, and then he shoves me away from his body with a vicious curse under his breath. When he rubs the back of his head, he glances over at me with a calculating look. I don’t like it; I don’t like feeling that he’s assessing me and found me wanting.
“Don’t worry about today. I’ll live to die another day, and it won’t be at your cousins’ hand. Go back to your friends.”
He doesn’t fight me as I swing the door open. We find Annabelle waiting on the other side, close, like she’s been eavesdropping on us both. I ignore her, walking straight out and toward my room as she begins to yell at Harley. I intend to ignore their lovers’ spat altogether, but then I hear the slap of her palm across his cheek and I glance over my shoulder at them both. She’s crying, and he’s looking at her with a bored expression that doesn’t gel with the tightness in his shoulders. She takes another swing at him, and he catches her wrist.
“It’s pretty fucking simple. I don’t take orders from my cousins. You’ve just proved that you do, so you can kiss my ass goodbye.”
He drops her wrist and turns to leave. Annabelle grabs his arm and screams at him again.
“Over the fucking Mounty? Maybe Ash is right, maybe you are soft over her.”
Harley whips around and, using his chest alone, he backs her up against the wall so quickly that the other girls watching scatter. Again, no one steps up to help her. No one cares if he does turn out to be violent. My eyes collide with his for a second before he leans down to her. I think he’s going to kiss her, and if he does, I’m going to vomit all over again.
“If you think I’m the soft one, then you’re dumber than I thought.”
And then he leaves her. Annabelle is panting, tears are streaming down her face, and the crowd is lapping up her humiliation. She’s always enjoyed the attention she’s had for being shared by them, but I don’t think she’ll enjoy being dumped so publicly by him.
Chapter 19
Iwake on Monday to the news that Avery has dumped Rory.
There isn’t a single freshman that will look at or speak to him, or Harlow for that matter. Neither seems to care all that much, but Rory is now walking the halls of Hannaford like he’s got a target on his back. By the looks he’s getting from Ash and Harley, it’s obvious they’re the ones that have put it there.
I watch the entire spectacle of Rory trying to find a seat at lunch with a grin on my face. I must look like a lunatic, but there’s something incredibly satisfying about seeing his football team turn their backs on him. After a cold glare over at Avery, he ends up sitting with Harlow and Joey’s flunkies. Ash glances over and sees my glee, and we share a moment. He knows I gave Avery the photos and, angry at Rory as he is, he’s fucking ecstatic about the way this is all panning out.Join the club, Beaumont. It feels weird to be on the same side for once.
My joy quickly evaporates when the dining hall doors open and Joey walks through, his suspension finally lifted.
He’s looking much healthier than the last time I saw him. There’s meat on his bones, and the dark circles that were ever-present have faded. I wonder if he’s been in rehab. He’s been gone long enough to have finished a twelve-step process, but I snort at the very thought of him sitting around a facility and making nice with people there. Still, it would explain his appearance. Maybe the suspension was really the school covering for him at his parents' request. I’m sure Mr. Trevelen is on their payroll; he’s certainly on Avery’s.
He doesn’t bother to grab a tray. After giving his siblings a sarcastic little wave, he joins his flunkies and gives Rory a once-over.
