Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
Hudson
I sat by the pool, the joint burning between my fingers, the orange ember glowing brighter with each deep drag. The smoke curled around my face before dissolving into the night sky, the quiet broken only by a distant dog barking. Presley had barely said a word on the drive back. I could feel the weight of her silence, the way it clung to the air like humidity.
She was stuck. I could see it, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Stuck in a mess called Evan, the kind of asshole who fed off control. It killed me that she might sacrifice her happiness just to keep her status intact. How could she not see it?
I took another hit, holding the smoke deep in my lungs before exhaling slowly. The night felt heavy—too quiet, too perfect, unlike the cramped apartment I’d spent years in. Back then, nothing was ever silent.
Paper-thin walls echoed with arguments, blaring televisions, and the worst—Mrs. Krushevsky's cabbage. I could practically smell it now. Even with the fire escape, my escape, there was no peace. But it was real, alive. This place? It felt like a hollow shell.
The joint burned halfway down, so I stubbed it on the ground, slipping it in my shirt pocket for later. I stood, stretching out, the cool night air brushing against my skin. Inside, the house was a fortress. Dark, quiet, and huge. Alex, my stepdad, had money—enough to give me my own space in the basement, a mini-apartment with all the luxuries I could need. But sometimes, it didn’t feel like mine. Not like the fire escape had.
I made my way downstairs, stripping out of my clothes as I went, tossing them in a pile. The sheets were cool when I slid under them, but my mind was still buzzing with thoughts of Presley. Her laugh, her smile—she used to be someone different, someone real. Now, she was wrapped up in a world I didn’t recognize. And I hated that Evan had any part of it.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it all out, but her image lingered. Her body, her curves, the way she walked—everything about her was intoxicating. No wonder Evan picked her. But it wasn’t just her looks. Presley had something more, something deep inside that he couldn’t even see.
Sleep finally crept in, and it felt like no time had passed before a knock at the door startled me awake.
“Yeah?” I groaned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“Can I come in?” my mom called softly.
I glanced down, realizing I was completely naked under the quilt. “Yeah, hold on.” I quickly tugged the blanket higher, covering myself. “Okay.”
She stepped inside, dressed in her tennis whites, ready for her morning game. “We’re heading to the club. Do you want to come?”
I stifled a yawn. “Nah, you know how I feel about that place. Full of elitist assholes.”
She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Are you calling us elitists?”
I chuckled. “No, but you know the crowd. Not my thing.”
“There’s leftover ravioli in the fridge if you want lunch later,” she offered, already half-expecting my rejection.
“I might hit Fromby’s for a burger,” I said, sitting up.
Her expression shifted, concern briefly flashing across her face. “Just be home for dinner. The Rossis are coming over.”
That got my attention. “Presley too?”
She tilted her head, a curious smile playing on her lips. “I suppose. Are you two still friends? You were inseparable once, like two peas in a pod.”
I groaned inwardly. Not this conversation. “We haven’t really talked in years, Mom. It’s been... a while.”
“But you remember her.” She gave me a knowing look.
“Yeah, vaguely.” I shrugged, trying to play it off, but the truth was I remembered every detail.
Before she could press further, Alex called for her from upstairs, sparing me the rest of the awkward conversation. “See you later, sweetie. Eat something, okay?”
I laughed under my breath as she left. “Yes, Mom.”
After a quick shower, I threw on some shorts and a tank top, the warmth of the day already creeping in. Fromby’s was busy when I arrived, the smell of grilling burgers filling the air as I placed my order. I nodded at a few familiar faces, but mostly kept to myself, waiting by the window for my food.
That’s when I saw it—a sleek, black Audi R8 pulling into a spot. My chest tightened when Evan stepped out of the driver’s seat, swaggering like he owned the place. And then, Presley followed.
My jaw clenched as he grabbed her hand, pulling her closer, his fingers digging into her waist as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. She didn’t even glance my way. She said she was done with him.
As they walked toward the window, Evan’s eyes met mine, a smirk curling on his lips.
“Hey, twiddledick, you gonna move or just stand there like an idiot?” he sneered.
I tensed, fists balling at my sides. “If anyone’s got a twiddledick, it’s you, prep boy.”
Behind him, Presley mouthed stop , her eyes pleading. But I couldn’t. Not this time. I wasn’t backing down.
Evan dropped her hand, stepping toward me, squaring his shoulders like he was ready for a fight. “You wanna say that again?”
Before I could respond, the guy at the counter called my name, setting the brown bag down with my order.
“Better fuck off before I make you regret it,” Evan growled, his voice low, taunting.
I grabbed my food, meeting his stare with cold fury. “Fuck you, man.” Then I turned, walking away before things got ugly.
But inside, the anger simmered. Presley wasn’t the girl I remembered, and it was killing me to watch her throw herself away on someone who didn’t deserve her.
If it weren’t for Presley, I would’ve punched Evan right in his smug face. Instead, I stepped back, flipped him off, and watched as the tension around the picnic tables crackled. People went quiet, staring, but I didn’t care. I slipped into my truck, the weight of their eyes lingering as I slammed the door. Presley hadn’t even looked at me. Not once. She was clearly under Evan’s spell.
I pulled out of the lot, my mind racing. I hoped she’d come by my house tonight—I had more than a few words for her.
As I drove through town, my foot tapped the gas harder than necessary. I ended up on the road to the old drive-in theater. It had been a different place when we last lived in Asterdale. Back then, it was shut down, a playground for the older kids—graffiti all over the screen, the snack bar broken into and reeking of stale beer and sweat. My father used to bring me there.
He’d walked me through the lot, pointing out the weather-worn picnic table near the front. The one where he’d carved his and my mom’s initials like they were some Romeo and Juliet. High school sweethearts, he’d called them, though it hadn’t lasted.
Now, a steel gate stretched across the entrance, blocking me from any nostalgia. The place had been revamped, shiny and new, but it didn’t feel like the same spot. Not anymore.
A horn blared behind me, dragging me out of my thoughts. I muttered under my breath and drove on, heading down the road toward the old quarry. The "No Trespassing" signs were still there, but even they looked newer, freshly nailed to the trees lining the path. Everything in town seemed different.
Changed. The stores I remembered were replaced by shiny boutiques, and the beach by the lake where we used to swim was now part of a gated community, the kind of place my mom had always dreamed of living in.
I passed Randy’s house, thinking about how much he had compared to what I’d come from. A twisted kind of envy stirred in me. My mom wanted a place like that for us, but nothing was available. Not yet.
I made a last-minute decision and stopped at a small florist just before I headed home. The bell above the door jingled as I walked in, the scent of fresh blooms overwhelming me for a second. I picked out a single white carnation, paying the clerk without much thought.
Would Presley even remember? I rolled the stem between my fingers as I left, thinking back to when we were younger. The carnation had been our little thing—something so innocent. Back then, it meant something. Maybe it still did, even if she was caught up in Evan’s bullshit.
I sighed, tossing the flower onto the passenger seat. I hoped it would be enough to get through to her, at least long enough to make her realize what kind of guy Evan really was. Maybe then I could talk some sense into her.
I leaned against my truck, flicking the last cigarette of the day as I watched security do their rounds. Smoking wasn’t allowed on campus, so I kept low, letting the smoke drift lazily into the dimming evening. It had started to drizzle, the kind of rain that soaked you before you realized it. When I finished, I stubbed the cigarette out and kicked the butt under the car next to mine, keeping my head down as I made my way inside.
The halls were crowded, kids milling around before the first bell. As I weaved through the throngs, I spotted Presley by her locker—with that asshole, Evan. He had his hand on her hip, possessive, like he was marking his territory. When he noticed me, his hand slid lower, resting on her jean-clad ass. My jaw clenched. He was toying with me, and it took everything not to march over and rip that smug look off his face.
Before I could act on it, Randy appeared at my side. “What the fuck happened to you on Saturday?” he asked, eyeing me like I owed him an explanation.
I shrugged, throwing my backpack into my locker with a heavy thud. “Wasn’t feeling it,” I muttered, keeping my eyes on the books I pretended to sort.
“I thought you were crashing at my place,” Randy pressed. “You didn’t drive drunk, did you?”
My frown deepened, and I slammed the locker shut with more force than necessary. “I wouldn’t do that,” I growled, narrowing my eyes at him.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Just asking.”
The first tone rang out, sending Randy hurrying down the hall. I didn’t bother moving. Being late wasn’t on my list of concerns. I popped a piece of gum into my mouth, chewing slowly as the halls began to clear, leaving behind an eerie quiet.
Once I was sure no one was around, I slipped the folded note I’d been carrying through the slats of Presley’s locker. My heart raced as the paper disappeared into the void. The words I’d scribbled down felt like a final attempt—one last chance to pull her away from Evan before it was too late.
I stood there for a moment, staring at her locker, hoping she'd read it and remember who she was before all this.