Chapter 14
14
“ H i, babe,” Christopher says, smiling as I meet him at the front doors of West Tower. I lift the sides of my mouth, turning and walking straight back toward the elevator.
My mood has been terrible for the last week, according to Layla. Probably due to the image of Bentley flirting with Cassie two feet from me and Axel. The boys didn’t sit near me in class this week, not even sitting next to each other. I know the display had pissed off Axel too, but I couldn’t tell if it was a protective thing because he could tell I’m attracted to Bentley or something else. But since he’s not answering my texts with more than a few one-word answers, I’m thinking they had their own little fight.
Layla even mentioned how similar our moods have been. She keeps asking if something happened last weekend, but all that happened was Christopher showed up and ate half of my food while complaining again about the cafeteria food. Plus, my mood had soured before Christopher even stepped foot on campus last week.
Leaning against the back of the elevator, Christopher crowds me, putting his hands on my hips and jostling me a little. “Cheer up. I’m here!”
I bite my tongue to stop myself from rolling my eyes. The elevator starts moving.
He ducks down a bit, fake pouting. “Why the bad mood?”
I fold my arms between us and try to wipe the frown off my face. “No bad mood.” Christopher quirks an eyebrow. “Just hungry,” I say quickly to cover.
He leans back, dropping his hands and adjusting the duffle over his shoulder. “Perfect because I was thinking we could go out tonight for dinner.” He takes my hand as the doors open and tugs me along to my suite. “I found this hibachi place, Kitsune Grill. It’s twenty minutes away, but it looked great.”
I look down at the sweats and tank top I haven’t changed out of since waking up. “I don’t know. I kind of wanted to stay in tonight. We could get takeout.” I walk around him and unlock the door, holding it open as he walks in and dumps his bag on the couch.
“Baaaabe,” he whines, turning back toward me. “We haven’t had a night out in sooooo long and the food here sucks. And they do this volcano thing with the onions that looked so cool online. Please please please please please?” He puts his hands together, pleading and stepping closer to me with each please until he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me against him on the last one. I fight the urge to push him off and just close my eyes.
“Fine,” I say, stepping back when he lets go of me to double fist pump the air. “But I need some time to get ready.” He nods, walking around the couch and grabbing the remote.
“Take your time. I’m not super hungry yet.” He falls back against the couch, flipping through the streaming apps that appear after he turns on the TV.
I roll my eyes at the back of his head, palms itchy. Layla pushed me to break up with Christopher all week, continuously reminding me it’s dumb to stay in a relationship I don’t even want to be in. But Mom’s reaction keeps the words trapped on my tongue.
I walk into my room, closing the door behind me so I don’t have to hear whatever he puts on in the living room. Walking to my vanity, I sit on the little stool in front of it and pull open the drawer with my headband and skin care stuff. Making eye contact with myself in the mirror, I pull my hair back and start unscrewing the top of my face moisturizer. My eyes stray to the room behind me, lingering on the empty bedside tabletop.
Waking up the day after Mira’s party, the water bottle had been the first thing my eyes saw after the blurriness of sleep cleared. I knew Bentley put it there, remembering him asking me if I needed any before I fell asleep. After downing most of it, I’d grabbed my phone and opened my messages with him, staring at the one text in our chat. Different things I wanted to say flitted through my head as my thumbs hovered over the keyboard.
Thank you for taking care of me.
Thank you for helping me get home.
I’m so embarrassed.
The last one sat in my brain, spreading through me as I recalled the night before. I'd gotten drunk in under thirty minutes all because of a stupid taunt. I’d danced on top of, and then fallen off of, a kitchen island. I’d passed out against him when he had to carry me home.
He probably didn’t want to hear from me. Probably annoyed that I ruined his night. He spent the whole time looking out for me, probably out of some sense of obligation since he was the one who egged me into drinking in the first place. He didn’t get to relax and probably felt like I'd wasted his time.
I stayed in bed most of the day, occasionally opening Bentley’s chat again before turning off my phone and stopping myself from sounding even more pathetic than he already thought I was.
But when I saw him on Friday, I realized I needed to thank him. No matter what he thought of me, he’d taken care of me, made sure I didn’t get hurt or into any big sort of trouble. And he’d smiled at me when I thanked him. My heart had lurched at the affection I’d seen in his eyes then, all of my fears from the day before washing away.
And then he’d pulled that shit with Cassie, and it all came flooding back in. I felt like an idiot. Still do. Of course, the night before didn’t mean the same thing to him. In his eyes, I’m his best friend’s bitchy roommate who he had to take care of when she got sloppily drunk on basically a dare. Not to mention he knows I’m with Christopher. I made the attraction between us up completely. We were nothing.
The swirling thoughts in my head had stoked a bonfire in my gut as I watched him get Cassie’s number. I couldn’t sit there and just go back to researching Gutenberg. I needed to get away from him and maybe scream.
But even rushing back to my room and punching my pillow a few times to extinguish the fire hadn’t left me feeling any more settled. Instead, I felt empty afterward. I kept wondering what Bentley was doing, where he would take Cassie on their date, if they would go on more, if I would have to watch them slowly become a couple over the semester while Axel and I were forced to interact with him, so we didn’t fail class.
And then there was Axel. I keep feeling like I should feel guilty for wanting him just as much as I want Bentley, but I haven’t been able to summon even an ounce. For all the time I spent thinking about Bentley, I also thought about Axel. How he looked across the beer pong table, practically devouring me with his eyes as we played. The sly smile when he let me win at Uno in front of Christopher. His intensity when he asked me a question about the project while we’d been researching.
The tension had mounted so high, I’d stripped down and thrown on my running clothes, going for a run for the first time since I got to the Coast.
And now I haven’t spoken to either of them for a week. They each separately cancelled our Friday library meet up this morning. Confusion and anger with a touch of despair had been my companion but reading their excuses in text had made all of it flare up again.
Finishing my light makeup, I pull the headband out of my hair and grab a scrunchie to tie it all back. Pulling on some soft leggings and a cropped hoodie, I take a second to try to shake some of my bad mood off before opening my bedroom door.
“Ready?” Christopher says, glancing back at me. “You’re going to wear that?” He looks over me before scrunching up his face.
“Is this place fancy or something?” I glance down at my outfit again, rubbing the side of my thigh.
“No,” he says, standing and shutting off the TV. “But you might as well have not changed,” he says under his breath. I scowl, clenching my fist as I slide on my sneakers.
Christopher blathers on about his week and work and everything mundane going on back in his world in Georgia as he drives us to the restaurant. I nod and murmur mmhmm when I need to, but I spend most of the ride staring out the window at the passing scenery. Layla’s words keep filtering through my thoughts. You don’t even like him.
The car stops and I glance around, clicking the button to my seatbelt and getting out. My feet land in a puddle, the ground still wet from rain that fell for an hour earlier this morning. Grey clouds still crowd the sky, but the air stays dry as we walk toward the brightly adorned building with a flashing neon sign reading Kitsune Grill over the door.
Christopher puts his hand on my back as we walk into the dimly lit restaurant. Noise greets us, the splash of oil on a hot grill, cheers and claps from somewhere behind the hostess stand, light music in the background.
“Hi, hibachi or booth?” a young girl with bright red hair greets us behind the hostess stand as we walk up.
“Two for hibachi,” Christopher says, dropping his arm and rubbing his hands together excitedly. The hostess nods, picking up a pencil and scribbling some notes on the seating chart in front of her before grabbing two menus and ushering us to follow her. Christopher leads the way and I follow behind, staring down at my wet feet on the way to the table.
“Oh my god, Janette!” My head snaps up at the sound of my name being called. Cassie sits at the corner of a hibachi table, waving frantically at me. Bentley sits beside her, eyes wide and mouth open as we take each other in. My heart stops as the waitress walks us right over to the pair and places our menus down in the two open seats right next to Cassie and Bentley. We’re basically kiddie-cornered next to each other with Cassie to my left.
“Hey, guys.” I mumble, keeping my eyes on her.
She jumps in her seat and claps. “What a coincidence you’re here! Isn’t this place so nice? When Bent told me where we were going, I figured we wouldn’t run into anyone from school.” She beams, clinging to Bentley’s arm as she speaks. I sit down in the chair next to her, Christopher already settled into the other and investigating the menu intensely.
“Seems he might have wanted it that way,” I murmur, picking up my menu and feeling bad for the comment the moment I say it. The hostess asks which meat each of us want and we order. She nods after writing it down before rushing off to get our drinks.
“Is this your boyfriend?” Cassie asks, leaning onto her palm on the table.
I go to answer, but Christopher drops his menu and reaches across me, extending his hand to her. “Christopher Phillipe Tonkins.” He flashes his teeth as they shake hands, Cassie leaning back. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” she says, a little more subdued than before.
A man in a tall chef's hat walks up to the grill between us, rolling a cart of bowls and sauces into the little cooking area. He smiles at all of us and asks how we’re doing before pulling out two large knives and starting to swipe them together. Cassie claps when he squirts a clear liquid across the grill and then lights it on fire, using a large spatula to spread it around. Christopher leans back from the heat, placing his arm around the back of my chair.
The hostess returns with our drinks, and I take a sip from my straw, eyes lingering over to Bentley on accident. He stares ahead, jaw set and eyes hard as he watches the start of the show. I dart my eyes away, looking back as the chef reads off his list and checks that he has the right meat for everyone on the three sides of the table.
Tossing shrimp and chicken onto the hot grill, he places a peeled zucchini down next, chopping it at lightning-fast speeds into equally sized cubes. He nods to the guy on the end of the table across from us, setting a cube on the end of his spatula and slinging it toward him as he moves to catch it in his mouth. The guy succeeds and we all clap, the routine continuing down the line before crossing over to the side of the table Bentley and Cassie sit at.
The two beside them catch their pieces, the woman next to Bentley using her hand under her chin to help as they both laugh.
Bentley’s up next and nods to the chef when they make eye contact. The zucchini flies and Bentley doesn’t move an inch as it falls in an arch right onto his tongue. He chews it twice before swallowing, my eyes lingering on the bob of his throat before he turns and looks directly at me. I look away, watching Cassie flail to catch her piece, narrowly grabbing it after it hits her nose. She laughs, cheeks heating as she looks over at Bentley.
He chuckles. “You’ve got a little oil,” he says, leaning in to swipe the tip of her nose. She freezes, eyes falling wider as she stares at his hand. He looks over at me before smirking and then staring down at her as he sucks his finger into his mouth and brings it out clean.
Cassie giggles, eyes still locked on him.
My stomach turns, the embers of the fire he stoked in the library flaring back to life.
And then I hear Cassie say, “Holy shit. I still can’t believe I’m actually on a date with the Bentley Marshall .” She squeals and I watch a little bit of the light die in Bentley’s eyes. He smiles though before facing forward again.
I turn back toward the chef, realizing it’s my turn next. I gulp, nodding after he sets up the cube on his spatula, nerves sparking up my spine. He flicks the cube into the air, and I follow it with my eyes, moving my open mouth to where I think it will land. It bounces off my forehead, falling to the floor and a round of awwws go off around me. The tops of my ears heat at the sound of a low laugh from beside me though.
Christopher holds his stomach, shoulders shaking as I lower my head and glare at him. “Babe, you weren’t even close!” He pats my shoulder, still laughing as he turns toward the chef for his turn.
I stare at the side of his face, Layla’s words drifting back to me, and feel the nerves from earlier crest and crash into a wave of anger in my chest. I scoot my chair back, three pairs of eyes falling on me as I stand. “I need to go to the bathroom.” I fast walk away from the table, fists swinging by my thighs.
I bypass the ladies’ room, pushing the black heavy door beside it with NOT AN EXIT written across in white paint. The grey sky greets me, and no alarm goes off as I let the door close behind. A blue dumpster sits on one side of the back parking lot area I find myself in, the brick wall behind it belonging to the part of the restaurant that wraps around to form an L shape.
I fly down the steps and away from the door. Digging my nails into my palms and holding them out in front of me, I grind my teeth, seeing Bentley’s smirk as he sucked the oil from his finger for Cassie. Hearing Christopher’s laughter ring in my ears. Feeling my mom’s looming reach touching even this.
It all bubbles up, every frustration I’ve ever had coming to a head and pushing to get out. Every shackle I’ve worn since the day Dad died tightening around me. The burning in my chest moves outward to the very surface of my skin and I open my mouth to try to breathe. A scream escapes my throat, and I lean into it, screaming at the ground and shaking violently. When I can no longer push any more air from my lungs, I gulp in the clean cold air, reeling back and feeling a surge of euphoria. The burning pit is now empty and the space to finally breathe feels amazing.
Panting and smiling, I register the sound of a slow clap behind me.
Swiveling around, I glare at Bentley, the smile dropping off my face. He stands on the top step in front of the now fully closed door. His eyes gleam, a fiery look in their hazel depths.
“Nice show,” he drawls, gesturing to me. “I’m surprised you didn’t stamp your little foot like a brat.”
I drop my hands to my sides, fists re-clenched. Fire licks up my spine at his words, but my chest still feels blissfully free. “Go away,” I grit out.
He snorts, eyes studying my face. “Chris seems great. Real winner you got there.” He smirks, but there’s bite in his eyes with every step he takes down the stairs to reach ground level with me.
“Shut. Up,” I hiss, needing him to go away. Needing him not to see me raging in this alley right now.
“No, I think you guys make a great pair. Really,” he sneers and steps toward me with every venom laced word. We stand practically chest to chest, glaring at one another, and he leans down closer to me. “Perfectly. Matched.” Each word is punctuated by the snap of his jaw. I focus on the movement, feeling heat press in against me.
“Well, I think you and Cassie make an amazing couple,” I spit out. “You seem to be loving all the attention .” I widen my eyes and mimic Cassie’s higher voice, batting my eyelashes as I say, “ I still can’t believe I’m actually on a date with the Bentley Marshall !” Rolling my eyes, I still catch the flash in Bentley’s hazel depths. “Got to love the perks of everyone knowing Mommy and Daddy .”
His jaw clenches, every muscle in his neck seeming to harden. “You don’t know me.”
“And I don’t want to,” I lie, crossing my arms over my chest to try to hide the way my hands are starting to shake. “I don’t know why you followed me out here, but?—
His hand shoots out, closing around my upper arm and pulling me up short. I crash against his chest, limbs untangling only to be met with his hard edges.
Tipping my head back, I glare. “What are you?—
His lips crash against mine as he pulls me closer still and barely a moment passes before my lips are moving with his. The fire inside me roars at the contact. He walks into me, pushing me back until I feel the brick wall bite into my shoulders, our kiss never breaking. His tongue swipes across the seam of my lips and I gasp, reaching up to grip the back of his head as he takes the opportunity to delve between my lips. He explores every inch of my mouth with savage enthusiasm, my tongue following suit against his. I moan into his mouth crushing myself further against him as he winds his arms around my waist, pulling my lower half against his. I feel him hot and hard against my stomach, the muscles in my core clenching.
His phone buzzes in the pocket of his pants, the vibration jolting through me. I break the kiss, turning my head and gasping. He leans back, and I turn to face him, our eyes locking. Panic plays in his eyes and I imagine the same can be seen in mine. Christopher’s laugh echoes in my ears again, but this time the sound feels like a twist in my gut. Axel’s face appears next, winking at me across the beer pong table and I shake out of Bentley’s grip, turning us around and backing away from him slowly.
“Janette,” he says breathily, hands still held out in front of him in the air where I had just been. His forehead wrinkles as we stare at each other.
I shake my head, turning and running back into the restaurant, slowing down to walk back to the table at a normal pace. My heart thunders in my chest as I sit next to Christopher.
“You missed the saké part, babe. They never carded me, so I got some when he squirted it in everyone’s mouths.” I lean forward, giving Christopher a closed mouth smile as I reach for my water and gulp it down.
Bentley walks back in a minute later and I pointedly ignore him for the rest of the meal, staring down at my food and murmuring responses to Christopher’s random talking while trying to ignore Cassie’s multiple attempts to get Bentley into a conversation. I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my skull. He answers her politely every time she asks a question, but things die off after each answer he mumbles.
When it’s finally time to leave, I stand, briefly glancing at Bentley as I push my chair back in. He stares up at me, eyes wide and questioning, the same last look he gave me outside. I avert my gaze when Christopher puts his hand on my back, and we walk out of the restaurant together.
Having to step through the puddle again to get back into the car, I stare down at my once again wet shoes the whole ride back to campus. Christopher stays quiet after making one comment about how good the food and show were and I nod, still staring down.
We get out to walk into the building, standing in front of the elevator when he finally turns to me and asks, “What’s going on with you, Jan?”
The doors open and I stare into the empty elevator as I say, “I think we should break up.” I step inside, going to the back and turning around to lean against the wall. Christopher stands outside, staring in at me as the doors slowly start to close. He puts his hand out, stopping the doors and rushing inside.
“What? Where is this coming from?” The elevator closes behind him, and I cross my arms, flashing back to a couple hours ago when he showed up.
“I don’t think this is working. You should grab your stuff and head back to Georgia, Chris.”
“Is this because of that guy at dinner tonight? He kept staring at you after you came back from the bathroom. Did something happen?” His voice slowly rises until he’s yelling the accusation as we stand in the stagnant elevator.
I stare up at him, watching his face turn red and fists clench at his sides. “Yes,” I say. “And I don’t think we should be together.”
His nostrils flare as he looks down at me, eyes darting between mine for a moment before he whirls around and jabs the elevator button for my floor. We ride up without saying a word, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the metal box.
When the doors open, he stalks off, stopping next to my door and waiting for me to walk up and unlock it. He walks in, grabbing his duffle from the couch before turning back on me. I stand in my living room, looking at the man I dated for my mother.
“I always knew you were a fucking whore,” he says, spitting as he speaks. “But Dad said it’d be good optics for us to be together. We were supposed to be the next step toward creating the new all-American dynasty.” I roll my eyes at his hyperbole. “And we still can be, but you’ll regret this little setback. I’m sure your mother will be in touch soon.” With those final words, a smug smile grows on his face before he walks out of my dorm.
I stare at the closed door for a moment, before shaking my head and muttering to myself, “I’m sure she will.”