Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
I find myself, terrifyingly, up-to-date with my studies.
We’re down to the last week of the school year before exams and yet with all of the tutoring, singing practice, babysitting, scheming, self-defense lessons, and family dinners, I’m now behind .
Well, okay, not behind, but I have assignments due in a matter of days that I haven’t even written an outline for and if I get the flu now, I’m fucked academically.
Avery rolls her eyes at me and tells me she would never let me lose my scholarship or my place at Hannaford, which I’m sure on some level is reassuring to me, but it doesn’t stop me from turning into a crazed insomniac hellbent on finishing every assignment I have left in forty-eight hours or less.
I take refuge in the library after sending a text to the group chat telling them I’m skipping dinner, no matter their opinion, because I’m in a state of academic crisis, and then I turn my phone on Do Not Disturb.
Shoving Blaise’s iPod in my ears, I block out what little noise there is in the library at this time of night before plowing through all things history, literature, biology, and math like my life depends on it. I mean, it kind of does.
When I finally pull my head out of the study haze, I find my coffee stone-cold thanks to me completely forgetting about it, and now I’m caffeine deprived.
I glance at the clock and stretch my arms and fingers out, finding it’s almost nine and the library is empty.
I have a few minutes before I’ll be kicked out and curfew is only thirty minutes after that.
Not that the curfew means anything to me, teachers now turn and run if they see me in the same way they do if they see Avery. It’s hilarious.
I’m shoving my textbooks into my bag with a tragic yawn when, out of nowhere, the earphones are yanked out of my ears with enough force that the iPod goes flying. I clench my fists but I recognize the perfume. Annabelle freaking Summers.
“Does Blaise know you stole his music? He’ll drop you if he finds out you’ve got this, you dumb Mounty slut,” she hisses, and I stand up, slinging my bag over my shoulder. When I move to pick the iPod up she dives down to snatch it first.
“Hand it over or I’ll break every finger on your hand. One warning, that’s all you’re getting,” I say, holding up a finger and giving her a menacing look.
She’s sneering back at me and looking nothing like the stunning girl I first met, draped around Blaise and giggling prettily.
I do a full assessment of her while her lip curls at my slow perusal.
Nothing seems out of place except her roots are showing; a cardinal sin amongst the affluent, bratty girls here.
Ah, her nails aren’t done either. Her eyelashes are thinner, lighter, and her eyebrows look good but not perfect.
Her parents have cut her off. Whether they’ve run out of funds themselves or she’s pissed them off, I don’t know, but I also don’t care. I think she’d fuck me for money at this point, the desperation is seeping from her pores.
I hold out my hand for the iPod and raise an eyebrow at her.
“I’m not fucking giving it back to you. He doesn’t even let Ash touch it! I’ll be walking it back up to his room and telling him?—”
“That you’ve stolen my iPod from my friend?
That you’re a jealous, desperate mess and instead of doing your own work you want to trap me and leech off of me?
That you’re hung up on Harley and hoping you’ll be able to get him back into your bed once you’ve secured eighteen years of child support from me? ”
Annabelle’s mouth drops, and her eyes are peeled and wild as she whirls to find Blaise glaring at her, dressed in sweatpants and an old band tee. He doesn’t pause in his scathing rant.
“Why don’t you tell me all about how you manipulated your way into my room to steal my father’s letters and post them for the whole fucking world to see?
Or how you’re still posting daily about Rory trying to rape Avery?
Why don’t you tell me and the Mounty how you helped that sick freak Lance steal her underwear and tried to break into her room to let him mess with her shit? ”
Face blanching, she stammers. “Blaise, I?—”
“Hand Lips my iPod. I gave it to her.”
She smacks it into my hand and steps toward him, tears streaming down her face, and I decide to get the hell out of the library and away from this drama. I’m allergic to this shit and yet I keep finding myself in the middle of it. Blaise slings an arm around my waist as I try to move past him.
“I’m here to walk you back to your room, don’t run off without me,” he murmurs into my hair as he drapes himself over me.
I will not blush. I will not crumble; I’m not some desperate groupie. If I keep telling myself this, maybe it’ll miraculously come true.
“You know she spent the night with Harley while you were at Avery’s recital. You blame me for loving all three of you but it’s okay for her to play you all against each other!” Annabelle wails at us.
I tense up but when I try to shift away, Blaise just holds me closer. I swear I can feel the ridges of his abs where I’m pressed against him. Sweet Lord.
“Nice try, Summers, but we all know what’s going on. Harley hasn’t been discreet and, like you said, I don’t give my music away to anyone. C’mon, Mounty. Avery will have my balls if I don’t get you back soon.”
Annabelle calls out to him but he ignores her, grabbing the iPod from me and handing me one of the earphones. When the music starts I don’t know if he picked ‘Iris’ by the Goo Goo Dolls, or if he hit shuffle, but it’s an old favorite of mine and my chest always aches when I hear it.
When the song ends, he plays it again and I smile down at our feet, mine still covered by the uncomfortable kitten heels girls are required to wear, and his only covered by the skulls he has tattooed on him.
The bright yellow carnations trapped in the teeth of the skull seem to glow against the shades of black and gray depicting the bone.
The same skulls were on his first EP and I loved the artwork so much. The ink only makes me grin harder.
“Don’t ask about the tattoos, it’ll only push me to drink,” he groans and wiggles his toes as we arrive at the door.
I shrug. “I’ll take a stab at it and say your dad. Yellow carnations aren’t exactly the norm to find on album covers so I looked them up. Disappointment and rejection. Didn’t make sense to me back then, but now that I know what a dick your dad is, I get it.”
I fish out my keys but Blaise grabs my hands and leans down until our noses brush one another. I stop breathing.
“Stop me now, Mounty, or I’m going to kiss you. No pity, no ulterior motives, just a kiss because I can’t stop myself.”
My brain just ceases to exist and I tilt my head up to meet his lips halfway.
This kiss is nothing like the last one, no hesitance in either of us.
When I suck his bottom lip between my teeth he grunts and slams me into the wall next to my door, his hand cradling the back of my head, preventing the concussion I’m positive that move would’ve given me.
Thank fuck Hannaford is built out of solid stone and Avery can’t hear us thumping around out here as I drag him closer, hands fisted in his shirt, and groaning into his mouth.
He parts my legs with his knee and presses against me until I see fucking stars.
I’m so fucking wet that I’m sure he can feel it, and I’m desperate for him to touch me.
He breaks away and I take a second to let go of his shirt.
I clear my throat. “I can’t.”
He nods and presses his forehead against mine. I feel his answer brush across my lips. “I know. I’m being a selfish dick. Just do me a favor and don’t tell Avery?”
I nod. I don’t need to tell him that I’m not talking about the Jackal’s threat.
I’m talking about my stupid heart that I need to protect as fiercely as he protects his, because when I had nothing at all in this world, I still had myself.
I can’t afford to give pieces of myself away to spoiled rich boys looking for distraction.
I can’t think about Blaise or the kiss.
I can’t think about anything except the massive workload I have in all of my classes and the concert I’m being forced to sing at that’s looming over me.
When school lets out for summer break, I’ll take a few weeks to figure out what the actual fuck is going on with Harley, Ash, and Blaise so I can start my senior year without boy drama.
I tell myself this over and over again to get through my classes, and it works.
With how hard I’m pushing myself, and my lack of sleep, I shouldn’t be surprised when the pain in my bad leg flares up.
I wake up every day with it feeling a little worse than the day before until, finally, I have to admit it’s bad.
I see the nurse but she refuses to give me anything stronger than aspirin for it.
My tutoring sessions with Blaise become a free-for-all with everyone showing up and Avery ordering take-out so we don’t have to stop to cook.
Harley insists on walking me back to the room every night and sitting next to me as we study, even though Ash is technically my tutoring student and Harley is on par with me. When I question him he looks at me like I’m mentally compromised, so I drop it and give in without any further questioning.
I focus myself entirely on my exams because if I think about my choir performance I lose my stomach contents, which Blaise learns the hard way by asking me which song I picked only to have me spew in the bathroom sink.
Avery throws a textbook at his head and cusses him out. No one talks about choir after that.
I practice with Avery and she tells me over and over again how good I am. I know that should be enough to calm my insane nerves, but I go to sleep each night with a sense of dread, determined that next year, I’m picking swimming instead.
I almost forget about Joey entirely.