Chapter Four #2
“What? No—I was just…” I stop. “I don’t need your help with anything. Well, unless you count scaring off douchebags.”
“I can do that,” he says.
I blink. “Do what?”
“Scare off douchebags. I’m good at it. You saw me just now.” He blinks innocently.
“That’d be a full-time job. I don’t exactly have the best reputation around here. I’m sure you know that.”
Kian leans in, but still far enough that he’s careful to not invade my space. “What reputation?”
I think he’s being dense, or purposefully cruel, but neither seems like him.
“Oh come on, Campus Mattress?” The memory of that name crawls up my spine, forcing a shiver.
We were sophomores when Sierra saw it on the Dalton gossip page. It wasn’t up for long. I think Sierra threatened someone to get it taken down. Which was a blessing, because if my dad ever got an inkling, I would have never left my room.
“That’s messed up,” he says, and I almost think he’s talking about my past. “Who the hell would say something like that?”
Oh. “It’s…whatever. That was the hot topic for like five minutes.”
“Still. These assholes have no right talking about you like that.”
He’s so earnest it almost startles me. No one’s ever said that to me—other than Sierra. It was like screaming into a void while the same frat gods became campus legends for sleeping with girls. I knew the rules were uneven, but some naive part of me still believed they wouldn’t apply here.
Kian offers me a beer, and I shake my head. He doesn’t take one either. Leaning against the counter, he eventually perches on top, effortless and carefree. And so damn big. He fills the space without trying.
I glance around the party and I realize I’m keeping him here. “Your friends are playing Jenga.”
He doesn’t even glance in their direction. His attention startles me, and before I can make an excuse to leave, he says, “By the way, I would.”
“Would what?”
“Tell off any asshole who comes near you. You don’t deserve that.”
You don’t deserve that.
My heart knocks against my rib cage. “H-how do you know what I deserve?”
My words hang there, but he doesn’t answer, just looks at me like that’s my answer.
He slips off the countertop and suddenly it feels wrong to let him leave.
“So…what?” I blurt. “I help you graduate, and you help me shed my crappy reputation? Just being near Kian Ishida keeps the creeps away?”
His head snaps to me. “Exactly.”
“You can’t be serious.” There is no way he wants to help me.
“I’m so fucking serious,” he says. “Think about it. Meet me at the library tomorrow and we can talk.” That’s when I hear him slur the tail end of his sentence. And that tiny, tiny glimmer of hope that came alive extinguishes completely. He’s drunk.
What am I doing?
As desperate as I am to erase that girl, the solution isn’t going to be in the form of a charming, tattooed, six-foot-two hockey player. Let alone one on my dad’s team.
Before I can answer him, Kian’s pulled into the hallway by his friends. That’s when I spot Sierra searching for me in the crowd.
“Si!” I wave her over.
“Where’d you get laundry detergent and a new shirt?” she asks, eyeing my new tank top when she approaches.
“I used to be a Beta Phi sister, remember? Where’d you go? I thought you were behind me when I came inside.”
Sierra’s got a plastic smile on her face that doesn’t fool me. I know she found and confronted the guy who spilled my beer all over me.
“Oh, um. I was…”
“You yelled at the guy who bumped into me, didn’t you?” The girl has a serious problem with fighting my battles. She’s always done it for me, and I’m so grateful that I have her as a best friend, but not standing up for myself is the exact reason I’m in this position.
She concedes and tells me about some IOU she extracted from the guy. I laugh and stuff my damp shirt in my purse. I’ll have to take it to my parents’ house on laundry day.
I don’t let Mac ruin my mood. I promised my best friend a good time, and I want to make that happen.
Sierra’s still in her head. So I drag her to the beer pong table, where she opts to watch me absolutely bomb and get more drunk than I planned. But that all feels unimportant when we’re on the dance floor, singing our favorite song to each other.
It isn’t until a few songs in, when she’s starting to enjoy the party, that I notice her freeze.
“Hey, what’s wrong—oh.” That’s when I see him. The world’s biggest asshole and Sierra’s ex-partner, Justin Petrov. “Want me to throw my drink in his face?”
That’s the least of what I’d do to him. For the past year, I’ve had dreams of tripping him on the ice and watching him cry.
“Not before I throw my fist,” Sierra mutters.
When Justin comes up to talk to her, I just want to get Sierra as far away from him as possible.
As a kid, I never wanted to see the people I loved hurt. But then I grew up with my mom crying over Victor, and nothing made sense anymore. Why would someone hurt the person they love?
So when Justin dropped Sierra on the ice and left her there like it was nothing, I could barely handle it. The guy has stood there and let me curse him out more times than Sierra will ever know. I’ve even written him angry letters that I hope made him cry.
“Wait. Si, we should talk,” Justin says, gripping Sierra’s arm.
“No, you shouldn’t,” I bite back.
“But—”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.” Sierra’s voice shakes, but I hope I’m the only one who hears it. With that I pull her away, and for the next few minutes I try to get her mind off him. We talk to a few of my sorority sisters, but I keep glancing at her to make sure she’s okay.
They chatter about our time together, but all it does is make me relive who I was back then. A girl I can barely stomach now. The feeling makes it harder to breathe, and that’s when I turn to find Sierra already saying something.
“I’m the worst, and I’m sorry, but—”
“Let’s go. The music sucks and the drinks aren’t even good,” I cut in.
I can see the guilt on her face, but I pull her along. Outside the house, we sit on the curb, arm in arm, waiting for our Uber. I don’t let Sierra thank me again, I’d choose sitting here with my best friend over anything else. But for some reason, my mind drifts to Kian’s offer.