Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
SUTTON
Istorm out of the house without looking back.
The cold hits me like a slap, but I welcome it. The sting on my cheeks feels better than the suffocating heat of that party. Connor was just being nice. That's it. And now he's bleeding because Declan can't control himself.
I don't call an Uber. My building is less than a mile away, and honestly, I need the walk. I need to feel something other than this churning mess of anger and hurt and guilt that's threatening to tear me apart from the inside.
I knew going to that party was a bad idea. I just knew it, and I let myself be dragged there anyway.
I’ll never go to another campus party again. I cannot deal with that drama.
My breath comes out in white puffs as I walk fast. I didn’t wear a coat to the party, and I’m seriously regretting that choice. Just when I thought there was a chance Declan and I could coexist on the same campus, this happens.
He’s not going to just let it go. I was a fool for thinking he would.
Tears are streaming down my face, freezing against my skin before I can wipe them away.
I'm crying, and I hate it. I hate that he can still do this to me.
I ended things. I made my choice. I'm supposed to be moving on, but instead, I'm walking through the freezing cold at night, sobbing like a pathetic mess.
My phone rings. I pull it out with shaking hands—whether from the cold or the adrenaline, I don't know.
Keira.
I answer. "Hey."
"Where the hell are you?" She's practically shouting. "I've been looking everywhere. Someone said there was a fight, and then you were just gone. Declan is bleeding. The guys are freaking out. It’s hockey against lacrosse in here."
"I'm walking home."
"You're what? Sutton, it's freezing. Why didn't you call me?"
"I just needed to get out of there."
"Okay. Okay, that's fine. But you can't just disappear like that. You scared the shit out of me." I hear movement on her end, probably pushing through the crowd. "I'm coming to your place. Don't argue. I'm already getting an Uber."
"Keira, it’s fine. I just want to be alone."
"Nope. Not listening. Get home safe. I'll be there in like ten minutes. And then I’m going to lecture you about walking alone drunk at night. I’m so pissed at you right now.”
She hangs up before I can assure her I’m fine.
I shove my phone back in my pocket and keep walking. The streets are mostly empty. A few cars pass, their headlights cutting through the darkness. Someone's walking their dog on the other side of the street. I can hear the sounds of other parties—typical Saturday night.
The image of Declan's face keeps replaying in my mind. The fury in his eyes and the way he looked at Connor like he wanted to kill him. And then the punch. God, the sound of his fist connecting with Connor's jaw is going to haunt me.
This is exactly what I was trying to avoid—him throwing away everything he's worked for because of me. Everyone is going to see it. They're all going to know it was because of me. I can’t seem to make it stop. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
I should have stayed home. I should have listened to that voice in my head that said going to that party was a terrible idea. But no, I let Keira convince me. I let myself think that maybe I could handle seeing him.
I was wrong.
My building comes into view, and I've never been so relieved to see those ugly brick walls. I fumble with my keys, my fingers numb from the cold, and finally get the door open.
My apartment is on the third floor. No elevator, just stairs that creak with every step. By the time I reach my door, I'm exhausted. Not physically—though the cold definitely took it out of me—but emotionally. I feel wrung out.
I unlock my door and step inside. The garlic smell hits me immediately, and I almost laugh. Of course. Of course, this shitty apartment with its shitty smell would be waiting for me after the worst night of my life.
I kick off my shoes and go straight to the bathroom. My eyes are red and puffy, and my hair is a windblown mess. I look like I've been through a war.
I guess, in a way, I have.
I wash my face, scrubbing away the makeup and the tears. The warm water feels good against my cold skin.
A knock on my door makes me jump. That was fast. I check the peephole—Keira, looking worried and windblown.
I open the door, and she rushes in, immediately pulling me into a hug. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. Don't lie to me." She pulls back, studying my face. "What happened? Crew and I were…well, you know what we were doing. And then suddenly everyone's running to the pool room, talking about a fight."
I move to the couch and sink into the cushions. The springs protest loudly. "Connor and I were shooting pool. Declan saw us and lost it."
"Lost it how?"
"He punched Connor in the face." I drop my head into my hands. "Just walked up and hit him. Connor hit back, they fought, and Ashton and some other guys broke it up. It was a whole thing."
Keira sits beside me, her hand on my back. "Shit."
"Everyone was recording. It's probably all over social media by now." I look at her. "He's going to ruin his chances with Seattle. All because he saw some guy standing too close to me."
"Sutton, that man has it bad for you. Like, really bad. He's not going to let you go without a fight."
"This isn't romantic, Keira. This is him destroying his future."
"Maybe." She leans back against the couch. "Or maybe it's him finally being honest about what he wants. You ended things because you thought he needed to choose hockey. But what if he's choosing you?"
"By punching people at parties? That's not choosing me. That's him being reckless and stupid." My voice breaks. "And I can't watch him throw everything away. I don’t know where this penchant for punching has come from, but I don’t think I like it."
"You broke up with him to give him the freedom to choose Seattle. Fine. But you can't control what he does with that freedom. If he wants to be an idiot and get into fights, that's on him. Not you."
“I don’t know why this has to be so hard. I’m trying to help him. And failing miserably.”
"You can't protect him from himself, Sutton. And you can't carry the weight of every choice he makes. He’s crashing out. From what I know of him, he’s been flying straight pretty much his whole life. Everyone is going to have a break. He’s having his. It’s not about you."
I want to argue. I want to tell her she's wrong, that this is somehow my fault, but deep down, I know she’s right. Declan is making bad choices. That’s on him.
"He looked so angry," I whisper. "I've never seen him like that."
"He's hurt. People do stupid things when they're hurt." She squeezes my hand. "Give him time. He'll figure it out."
"What if he doesn't? What if this ruins everything for him?"
"Then that's his choice to make." She stands up, heading toward my tiny kitchen. "We need wine.”
“Wine is the last thing we need.”
“Girl, I was two minutes from finally getting the thing I’ve been chasing for months. I need wine.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Sorry. You could have stayed and finished things.”
“Wine.”
“Fridge. In the fruit drawer.”
“I like it. Poetic.”
She brings the bottle and flops down. “Ow. A spring just goosed me.”
“Sorry. The apartment is functional, not comfortable.”
“I’m not looking for glasses.” She takes a drink straight from the bottle and hands it to me.
I take a drink and sigh. “We’re going to have hangovers with all this mixing.”
“We’re in college. We’re supposed to be hungover on Sunday.”
She takes her turn with the bottle. "So. Connor. What's his deal?"
"There is no deal. We were just talking. He was nice to me when I needed someone to be nice. That's it."
"Did you want it to be more?"
I think about that.
"No," I admit. "I was using him as a distraction, which makes me a terrible person."
"It makes you human." Keira takes another swallow. "You're allowed to be a mess right now, Sutton. You're allowed to make mistakes, do stupid things, and not have it all figured out. You just ended a relationship with someone you love. You don't have to have your shit together."
“I feel like the villain in this story."
"You're not a villain, Sutton. You're human. Welcome to the perfectly imperfect club. We’re not so bad here."
"He was going to sleep with that girl," I say quietly. "Amber. She was leading him somewhere when he saw me with Connor."
"But he didn't."
"Only because he saw me first."
"You don't know that. Maybe he would have stopped. Maybe he would have realized he didn't want to. You can't know what would have happened."
"It doesn't matter. We're done. I ended it. He's moving on. I'm moving on. That's how this works."
"Except you're not moving on. Neither of you is." She turns to face me fully. "You're both just hurting each other."
I take the bottle and take a very healthy swig. “This sucks.”
Her phone chirps. She looks at it and groans.
“Who is it?”
“Crew.”
I smile. “Go. Get your man.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“Honestly, I want to be alone.”
She quickly texts Crew.
“I love you. You are amazing. And Declan will figure his shit out. It’s not up to you to do it for him.”
I walk her to the door, hugging her before locking up behind her.
I’m glad one of us is going to have a good night.