When I get to the bleachers, Briggs isn’t there. I walk around to the back and feel someone grab me from behind. I know it’s him by the way I fit in his arms, and by that flutter in my stomach that happens when we’re close like this. I hate that he makes my body react this way, but I can’t seem to stop it.
“You can’t be texting me anymore,” he says, his mouth by my ear. “You need to stop.”
I try to turn around, but he keeps me where I am, my back against his chest, his arms crossed over my body. A couple of weeks ago, I would’ve been scared of what he’s doing to me, but now I feel strangely calm being in his arms.
“Why can’t I text you?” I ask.
“It’s too risky. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
“Then what is it? Did something happen?”
“Finn talked to the insurance guy and managed to not fuck it up. The guy believed his story and said he’d finish filing the claim.”
“So it’s over?”
“There’s no way they could trace this back to us. The damage to the Range Rover’s been fixed and we have it on record that it was caused by Finn hitting a telephone pole. And it’s been over a week. If the cops were going to get us, it would’ve happened by now. They aren’t going to keep wasting their time trying to find whoever hit a guy who was either drunk, high, or just some wandering homeless dude.” He pauses. “It’s over.”
I feel his arms relax and shove them off me, turning to face him. “So what does that mean? For us?”
His eyes lock on mine, and I swear I see regret in them, but regret for what? For doing what we did? Or is it regret for whatever he’s about to say?
“We can’t do this, Ella.” He looks down at the ground, then back at me. “It never should’ve happened.”
“So what now?” I put my hands on my hips, my eyes burning from the tears threatening to fall. I hate Briggs, but for those brief moments we spent together, just the two of us, I actually liked him — more than I’ve ever liked a guy. I felt something for him, something other than anger and hate. It doesn’t make sense, and I’m furious at myself for feeling that way about him, but it happened, and I’m not ready to give it up.
“We go back to how things were.”
“Back to treating me like shit? Really?” A humorless laugh follows as I turn away from him and take a few steps forward. “I thought you were different. I was starting to believe that you didn’t really want to treat me the way you did all these years. I thought I saw something good in you, Briggs, but I guess it wasall an act.” I turn to face him. “You were just keeping me in line so I’d keep my mouth shut.”
He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes lock on mine.
“When did you guys decide this?” I ask. “Did the three of you meet this morning and decide today was the day to start harassing me again?”
He doesn’t answer, and it hurts. It hurts that he’s not saying anything. I just want an explanation, but he’s not giving me one. I want him to tell me that last weekend didn’t mean anything, that it was all an act. At least that would make sense. But his silence makes me wonder if it wasn’t all an act, but if it wasn’t, then why is he doing this?
“What’s next?” I say, walking up to him. “You assault me behind the building? Rape me if I don’t agree to give you the valedictorian title?”
His jaw tightens. “I would never do that. You know I wouldn’t.”
“Do I?” I tilt my head, looking up at him. “Because apparently you can be whoever you want, depending on the situation. Like now. You’re not the guy I hung out with last weekend. The guy I was...” I swallow and look down at the ground. “The guy I was starting to actually like.”
“Ella, I’m not—” He takes a breath. “Let’s just go.”
My eyes lift back to his. “Go ahead. I’ll wait behind. I wouldn’t want you being seen with the trash.”
“That’s not what I think of you.”
“And yet it’s what you call me.” I hold his gaze a second longer, then turn away. “Bye, Briggs.”
I hear him walking away, and when I know he’s gone, I drop to my knees and let the tears that were stinging my eyes break loose. Why I’m crying over Briggs Chadwick makes absolutely no sense, but life doesn’t always make sense. If it did, it wouldn’t have taken my mom from me. It wouldn’t have me going to aschool with kids who have multimillion-dollar trust funds and making me sweep the grass off their precious sidewalks. And it wouldn’t have made my heart fall so freaking hard for a guy who goes out of his way to hurt me.
I can’t believe I fell for Briggs. How did I let this happen? How could I be so stupid?
When I get home from school, I go to my room and take a nap, exhausted from the day and the whole past week. I wish I could go back in time and erase last week from my memories. I want to go back to knowing Briggs as the asshole bully that I hate, and nothing more. I want back the part of my heart that I exposed to him, and then had crushed by the reality of who he really is and always was — a cold, heartless bully who never felt anything for me.
A knock on my door wakes me up. “Honey, can I come in?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” I sit up, rubbing my eyes.
