16. Jason
16
JASON
W hy me?
That was what Laura asked me that night when she finally snapped and called me pathetic. She started by critiquing my paper, not me, but I read between the lines of what she wanted to say. It all blurted out of her in that fantastic display of losing her patience with me.
But she had to deliver those scathing remarks in such a way that I couldn’t ignore what she didn’t say.
Why me?
She’d asked me why I targeted her. She wanted to know what it was about her, specifically, that propelled me to bully her.
That question stuck with me, but I had no plan to answer her. Not yet, at least. One day, I’d need to make her understand why she mattered to me as a target. That would involve telling her about William and about what her father did to him. As of yet, I had no clue what her relationship was with her father.
After all this time of bullying her, and not being quiet about it online or in person, there was no discipline. No one from the dean’s office was coming after me for my treatment of Laura. Which made me wonder if the asshole even knew.
I doubted he’d stay in touch with what was going on socially. He didn’t seem like he would want to keep his finger on the pulse of the social or community aspects of the university.
It was possible he didn’t know, which meant Laura didn’t tell him.
Because she’s that much of a good girl? She wants to only do what’s right and expected and roll over at any trouble?
That part of the mystery took up much of my time, and still, no matter how much she hogged my thoughts and stayed in my head, I couldn’t figure her out.
All I did understand was that I lacked the ability to shut her out. I couldn’t give up these fantasies I’d started having of her—taking her and making her cry out my name if she wouldn’t show me a tear of pain.
Each time I let my imagination wander about what it’d be like to ruin her, to fuck her and destroy that good-girl persona, I had to cringe at the guilt that followed.
How could I want her when she represented the man who ruined my brother’s life?
How could I be so selfish as to desire her when William deserved revenge?
It was a twisted tug-of-war, one I tried to ignore and not address at all. That was why I stuck with the same old, harassing her and teasing her when we had our tutoring sessions. The only deviation was why I complimented her about how smart she was, because it was obvious her braininess wasn’t an act. When I commented about how she had to be smarter than her sister, it felt weird to contradict my usual nickname for her.
Maybe she was never actually second-best to Mai.
But why wouldn’t she say something? No one could be that chill and forgiving to let a campus-wide nickname stick when it wasn’t true.
I didn’t tell her that she was smart to get on her good side. There was no chance of that ever happening. I said that because I was intrigued. I knew I was wasting my potential in college. I used to have great grades and I was once committed to going to med school, like her. I had reasons, though. My excuses for why I fucked around and wasn’t motivated anymore were because of what Dean Chen did to William.
What was her excuse to not realize her potential?
Walking along the upstairs landing of the frat house, I idly looked over the railing and watched the Professors’ Nightmare party that was in full swing. This one was a tradition, something legendary that so many students came to enjoy. Nothing was off-limits tonight. We’d ordered more than enough kegs and already, so many people were well on their way to being so wasted they’d pass out on the lawn before sunrise.
Leaning my forearms against the railing, I stopped and took in the scene with pride. This was my doing. I was the reason for all of this debauchery and entertainment.
Yet, I felt like an outsider looking in. I wasn’t really buzzed yet, not in the mood to drink too much. If I joined my brothers and the rest of them, I’d drink more and lose these thoughts about Laura.
I was damned if I thought about her and damned if I didn’t. She’d snuck in under my skin like a virus, taking over and making me uneasy about how and when I’d be able to tell her why I targeted her.
Dennis walked by, doing a double-take at my standing there and watching over the party.
He’d just come from his room with a girl who was still straightening out her clothes.
“You’re starting off strong tonight,” I quipped dryly as he stood next to me and looked down at the thick crowd below.
“Yeah.” He grinned, adjusting his pants before taking a shot from someone passing down the hallway. He threw it back and smiled even wider. “I fucking love these parties. This is the life.”
I nodded, not really feeling it and worrying again whether I was getting too old for this shit now.
“Holy fuck.” He barked a laugh and elbowed me. “Is that who I think it is?”
We didn’t let just anyone in. The newest brothers had to man the doors. Once, a cop tried to sneak in and we had to increase our “door security” for that reason.
“Who?” I leaned over to follow where he was pointing. Too many people moved in the first-floor area, crammed in tight, dancing, drinking, or trying to talk. There was no room to spare.
“Second-Best,” Dennis said, cracking up. “What the fuck is she doing here ?”
I spotted her, seeing her long, silky black hair shining under the flashing strobe lights someone had installed.
I held my breath, feeling like I was punched in the gut. Like every other time I stole the chance to really look at her, my chest was too tight and my heart raced.
Fuck.
It was her.
Shock reverberated through me. Tracking her as she wove through the throngs of people, I thought back to how she’d commented about everyone knowing about this particular party. She freely admitted she had no social life, but even she was aware about tonight. And she was curious about it, so much that she’d take the risk to show up.
No one moved with her. She’d come alone, not even seeming to ask that one Kristin girl to be her backup.
Despite all my taunting about this party and the fact that she wouldn’t know how to have fun, she’d shown up.
Damn.
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry as I stared at her.
She had grit. She had a lot more gumption than I’d thought.
After her confession that these kinds of parties weren’t her thing, she proved her own lie to herself to show up.
“What the hell is she thinking?” Dennis asked, still amused and sounding like he couldn’t wait to terrorize her for setting foot in our frat house. “Like, is she fucking stupid or what?”
“Why do you think she came?”
He laughed. “Fuck, after all we’ve been saying about her and all the shit we’ve been spreading about her? Who knows. Maybe she’s a glutton for punishment.”
No. It wasn’t that. Laura might be so complex that she wouldn’t tell her dad or the academic recovery program about my bullying her, but she wasn’t some simpleton idiot showing up for the hell of it.
Is she here because I taunted her and it’s working like reverse psychology?
“Or maybe she’s trying to overcome her reputation as a goody-goody,” Dennis said, scoffing. “As if that would ever be possible.”
I narrowed my eyes, keeping her in my sight as she furrowed her brow and nervously picked her way through the crowd.
“Yeah, go. Go make her regret it,” Dennis cheered.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with her on my turf. All I knew was that I couldn’t look away. I wasn’t able to ignore her being so near, not just in my head and in my thoughts but within reach.
After jogging down the stairs to follow her through the crowd, I kept my stare locked on the back of her head. That glossy sheen of her hair was the mark I tracked, but it wasn’t so easy to reach her. There were too many people in here. Somehow, the booming bass of the music made it more difficult to concentrate and see her. The heat of too many bodies pressed in the room suffocated me, and all the cloying scents of too much perfume and cologne made me want to run out of here.
It wasn’t a panic attack, but an accumulation of my frustration to get to her and…
And…
I didn’t know what to say or do, but I had to reach her.
She moved further in, reaching the other living area near the back of the house. We usually called this the den, but with the purpose of prioritizing open space for parties, there wasn’t much in here as furniture.
As I entered, watching her from afar as she slowed in her steps, I realized what was making her stagger to a stop.
On the walls, a slideshow of images rolled through. We usually had all kinds of stuff projected on the wall or on the many TV screens throughout the house, but this was different.
Fuck.
They didn’t…
I watched as everyone else did as pictures flipped and shifted. Photos of women on campus were broadcast as a second-rate beauty contest. And every picture of Laura that showed up was an unflattering one taken from afar on campus.
They did.
We’d talked about having a prank like this, an ugly contest instead of a beauty contest, but none of us ever tried to make it happen.
One of them had, though. Rory likely set it up. He was the tech guy among us.
Anger swept over me as I witnessed Laura’s reaction. She stayed perfectly still, her gaze on the wall as one not-so-flattering picture followed another. Standing ramrod straight, she blinked once and stared at the images. No shout for it to stop left her lips. She didn’t frown and crumple in front of the crowd. No tears.
Struck dumb and shocked, she stood there as everyone cracked up. They all pointed at her, laughing, catcalling, and talking about her even more.
Every one of them pounced on the chance to torment her in real time, and she just stood there.
I couldn’t. Rage made me move. A deep well of anger festered and boiled as I launched forward. This need for violence threatened me to punch the nearest fucker who laughed. To shove aside every girl who added more insults.
Instead, snapping into action, I ran forward and gripped the projector off the table.
With it in my hands, the ray of light slid down, illuminating the partiers with an array of colors. Once I tugged the device so hard that the wires snapped, I squeezed it tightly.
Silence filled the room, save for my yell that slipped out through my clenched teeth.
Then without any hesitation, I threw the projector against the wall. It smashed, and I watched the pieces of it settle in a pile on the floor.
No one spoke. Someone turned down the music in the other room.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move.
All I could do was stare at the projector pieces. With my chest heaving, my heart thundering, and this residual need to inflict pain and destruction until I vented my anger, I zoned out at one simple fact.
This was because of me.
She might’ve asked me why her, why I targeted her, but now, in the stark let-down from adrenaline, I wondered why me ? Why did I have to be the one to be so affected by her?
“What the hell?” Kevin asked as he approached me.
Dennis wasn’t far behind him, just as confused. “Dude, what?—”
I backed up, jarred out of my anger as I vaguely moved in the direction of where Laura stood stock still.
“Shut the fuck up,” I warned of my friends. Scowling at the crowd, I flung my hand up. “That’s it! Show’s over. Move the fuck on. Now!”
As people raised their brows and turned toward their friends, I spun and sought out Laura.
The second she made eye contact, she swallowed hard. With a slight shake of her head, she blinked and lowered her gaze. Backing up one step, then another, she tried to leave. Now, more than ever before, she really did look like a terrified deer caught in the headlights. She was gearing up to bolt.
“No,” I bit out, finally reaching her and taking hold of her wrist. I locked my fingers tight as she tried to tug out of my grasp.
“No,” I snarled at her, dragging her out of the room with me.
“Jason—”
I tugged on her wrist again, forcing her to follow me faster as I roughly guided her up the stairs, toward my bedroom. I wasn’t hearing her out. Not yet. Not this time. I didn’t even give a damn what protest she wanted to try on me. It’d fall on deaf ears.
“I’m not done with you yet,” I warned her, loud and clear.
This streak of anger and possessiveness over her controlled me. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t planning. I just moved, needing to get her out of this crowd and somewhere else where I could figure out how to handle this. How to handle her.
She wasn’t going anywhere, not until I said so.