Chapter 7
Mary
Six months later
As I make my way onto campus, a wave of annoyance washes over me.
A crowd of students race into classrooms, laughing with friends, lost in their own little worlds.
It’s in direct contrast to my longing for isolation, and I can’t help but despise the frantic pace of this college.
I want to go back to my room and do the complete opposite.
Pulling my bag up higher on my shoulder, I head toward Dean Westwood's office—a monthly meeting I’ve been forced to endure for the past six months.
By the time I get across campus, only a few students are lingering around, exactly as Dean Westwood likes it. Because how would it look if the perfect Dean had a student coming and going to his office when everyone else was already in class?
I rap my knuckles against the door before pushing it open, never waiting for him to welcome me in.
I’m here for one reason and one only.
The quicker I get here, the sooner I can fucking leave.
Dropping my bag on the ground, I plop down in one of the uncomfortable leather seats in front of his old oak desk. My foot bounces on its own as I wait for him to get this shit over with.
“Mary. How are classes going?” he asks. His glasses sit at the tip of his nose as he reads over the paper in his hands. When I don’t respond fast enough, he looks up, raising a single brow.
“Fine. Can we please get this over with? I have class.” I cross my arms over my chest, impatience filling my veins.
“Very well. Nothing has changed on my end. I assume the same on yours?”
“Not like I have a choice in that matter. So, yes.” He asks the same question every month as if I, for whatever reason, decided I'd go screaming about what happened with his sons.
I don't think anyone would believe me anyway.
I've never hated two men more than them—besides Dean Westwood. He's just as bad for covering for them.
He gives me a curt nod, and I stand, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. Before I pull the door open, his words stop me.
“Just remember what’s at stake. Not only his tuition but yours as well, Miss Locke.” I don’t reply as I pull the door open and exit his office. A weight is instantly off my chest, making it easier to breathe.
The trek back across campus goes fast since my mind isn’t focused on anything but the bullshit that was back there.
Six months since the worst night of my life.
Since I lost everything.
I've had to pretend for the past six months that everything is okay, that I’m barely managing to keep myself together. All my grades are slipping, and getting out of bed gets harder every day.
I’m alone in this.
No one to talk to.
No one to turn to.
Would Maddie and Tate believe me? I want to think they would, but what kind of friend would I be if I put them in a situation like that?
Those girls would do anything for me, and I know they would push me to tell Seb, and I can't. I won't. It doesn't matter how much it hurts to have him hate me. One day, he'll understand.
One day, I'll tell him the truth.
***
I've had a lot of time to think about what I want.
And it will always be him, which is precisely why I've been applying to other schools.
Being around him every day is no longer something I can endure.
I need to get away and not be reminded of what I can't fix.
That's why right now, I'm sitting at a table in the courtyard, Maddie and Tate across from me.
"I'm leaving Eldridge." They both freeze, eyes growing wide.
"What do you mean?" Maddie asks, her boyfriends walking up behind her. Both of them take turns kissing her.
"Hey, Tate. Mary." Ace says as he takes the empty seats next to Maddie.
"What're you guys talking about?" he asks, leaning forward, arms resting on the tabletop. That's when Damon comes into view, heading toward Tate. Great. The whole fucking gang is here.
"Mary was just telling us about why she's leaving Eldridge." Maddie sends me a death glare, and I shake my head, not wanting to go over this with everyone here. All three of these men are friends with Seb, which means he'll find out. Not that I think he'll care. He’ll probably be happy.
"What do you mean? Like for the weekend or—?" Ace asks, stealing one of Maddie's french fries and popping it into his mouth.
"Permanently," Maddie mumbles, looking even more pissed off that I just sprung this on her. Before I can say anything, Seb comes into view, walking straight to our table. When his eyes meet mine, his stride freezes for a moment, like time stutters around us.
His fingers curl into a fist at his side as he approaches. He goes to the empty seat by Tate and settles in, not once acknowledging me again.
"What're we talking about?" he asks, and the sound of his voice sends a fresh wave of sadness washing through me.
Everyone looks at me, and I shake my head, looking down at my books and notebook in front of me.
I grab everything, shoving the mess of papers into my bag without caring if they get ruined, as Ace opens his big-ass mouth.
I shoot up from my seat but freeze in place when Ace announces my plans to everyone at the table—specifically the one person I didn't want to know.
"Mary was telling us that she's leaving Eldridge." His hazel eyes lock with mine, and my stomach drops like I’ve missed a step. I force myself to breathe past the sharp, traitorous tug beneath my ribs, fighting against a connection I desperately want to sever at this moment.
I spent the whole morning running through the reasons why I pretend to hate him, just as he hates me.
He thinks I cheated on him, and that's why he hates me. I pretend to hate him because it's easier to make him the villain, even when he's not. But none of that quiets the ache in my chest. Each brutal memory slashes at my heart, reopening scars that haven't yet healed.
I hate him for the sleepless nights, the tears shed, the irreparable harm to my soul. Despite everything, a flare of warmth, of familiarity, beats between us, even when it shouldn’t. It would make everything a lot easier if I could forget him. Forget everything.
Seb was the first person I’ve ever truly loved—the only one who has made me feel safe, loved, and wanted. It frustrates me to no end.
Despite our current standing, I still love him.
How can I still love him?
How can my heart flutter at the sight of him when my mind screams at me to run, knowing what's at stake?
Seb arches one eyebrow, as if to say “Really?” But I don't give him the explanation he's apparently looking for.
Being around Seb is just too painful. After everything we've been through, all I wanted was a way around this, a way to fix shit between us. To go back in time and change the course of that night. But I can’t.
I have to get away from this toxic-ass town and the people in it.
A fresh start.
I don’t want to leave Maddie and Tate, but that’s not enough to keep me here anymore.
“You're leaving?" Seb's deep voice races over my skin, making it pebble. I press my lips together to stop them from trembling. Everyone is silent around the table as we look at each other, neither of us breaking the awkward silence.
My heart flutters—not with excitement. It’s fear. The word hovers on the tip of
my tongue as my stomach drops and my heart pounds. Why am I even doing this? He doesn’t need an explanation, nor do I want to give him one.
A humorless chuckle leaves my mouth as I toss my bag over my shoulder and turn to walk away.
Just when I think I'm safe, my bag is being pulled to the ground, only a few feet away from the table. Seb grips my arm, stopping me from taking another step, but just as quickly as his fingers wrap around me, they disappear even quicker. As if touching me will physically hurt him.
"Is this the part where you act like you care that I'm leaving?"
"No. I don't care." His voice is full of displeasure as he towers over me, forcing me to crane my neck up.
The expression plastered on his face is lethal, and my mouth goes dry.
His eyes narrow, as if they're trying to pierce through me. His shoulders are tense, and there’s a noticeable tic in his jaw.
Hazel eyes lock with mine, hardening even more.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, and I can't hold in the laugh.
"Why the fuck would I tell you anything, Seb? We aren't friends, remember?"
"Yeah, you made sure of that, didn't you, Mary?" He grits his teeth in disdain.
“Fuck you, Seb." My voice strains with a mix of rage and indignation. My irritation shifts into full-on rage. Seb stalks forward until my back hits the wall, his hand wrapping around my throat.
“Fuck me?” His laugh echoes around us, but there’s no humor in it as he leans forward until his lips brush the top of my ear.
"I don't fuck used women." Peeling his hand from my neck, he steps back, turning and storming off past the group.
Tears sting my eyes as I stumble back, my hand rubbing my throat. Nausea rolls through me at the realization of what he said. It shouldn’t hurt anymore—it’s been happening for the past six months—but fuck, it does.
Seb doesn't look back as he leaves the courtyard.
My legs feel like lead as I drag myself back to the dorm, deciding I can’t stomach classes today.
Grabbing the joint I have stored in the pocket of my hoodie, I place the tip in my mouth.
The lighter fumbles in my hand, and it takes me a few seconds to get the flame to catch.
An instant relief comes with the feeling of smoke hitting my lungs.
The overwhelming noise of the outside world becomes a distant background chatter, drowned out by the tranquility that envelops me.
Screw him—and everyone else, too.