Chapter 44
"YOU AND DANIELS, HUH?"
Cutting Ashton a warning side-eye, he holds his hands up but doesn't back off the topic.
After Sasha left, I stopped by Nurse Larsen's office and got the Ibuprofen. Ashton was waiting outside the school's infirmary, seated on the black gang chairs jammed against the wall beneath the window.
The school halls are virtually empty. There aren't many stragglers left since today marks the last day of final exams and the end of teaching and testing for the school year.
There's one week left of school before summer kicks off and during that time, it's mainly for teachers to grade papers and clubs to wrap up activities.
The silence between us is awkward. If Ashton means to break the ice, he couldn't have chosen a worse topic.
"I'm just trying to understand something," he reasons, tucking a hand into his jeans pocket, his dark blue denim jacket moving as he scratches the back of his head, a frown working its way onto his face.
"Must you?"
"Humor me," he deadpans. "I just don't understand. You're terminal. Why would you break up with Sasha, presumably to spare her the pain of watching you die, only to put Daniels through that?"
"I didn't expect to develop feelings for the guy."
"But you could've turned him down. That poor guy has no idea what's in store."
"You don't know Sky. He's persistent. Trust me, I've tried pushing him away."
We turn around another corner and enter the hallway leading out to the main foyer. Up ahead, one side of the double doors leading outside of the school remains open, the harsh afternoon glare bouncing off the rubber flooring.
The glare stabs into my eyes and I raise my hand to block most of it.
"Besides, he knows about my illness. He figured it out himself."
"Really? Did you tell him it's no longer treatable?"
Any retort I might have had dies a tragic death at his question. Ashton catches on quick, frowning deeper than before. His stare is admonishing, narrowed eyes peering over.
"You didn't tell him. Why?"
"One thing at a time, dude. I've got a lot of shit going on and there's only so much I can handle at one given point."
Ashton sighs. "My bad," he apologizes. "You know I'm just looking out." A beat of silence passes as we cross the foyer, and then, "Are you planning to tell him?"
My steps come to an abrupt halt at the threshold. "I don't know."
"You don't...know?" he prods.
"He thinks I'm still with Sasha. I don't even know if he wants anything to do with me. You saw how he left. Heard what he said to me. He still thinks I'm afraid of my feelings." I continue walking, stepping out onto the platform at the top of the steps. "I'm not, by the way."
"I didn't think you were." As we walk down the steps, he tells me about the party he's hosting next Wednesday to celebrate his new position on the basketball team and to kick off the summer.
"Your parents agreed to let you throw a party so a bunch of drunk teenagers can trash their house?"
Ashton has never hosted a party. His father serves in the military though he's back home for god alone knows how long.
Plus, his mother is a professor at the university in Starlight City almost one hour away.
Between his parents, they would never let either of their kids invite a bunch of strangers into their home.
"They are not," he clarifies sheepishly and a matching grin to boot. "They're heading out of town for a week to celebrate their anniversary. I'm taking advantage of their absence."
"Your sister agree to that?"
He laughs. "What do you mean? She and her girlfriend are chaperones."
Now it's my turn to laugh. "Look at you. Don't forget me when you get all –"
The words fade, my smile and lighter mood vanishing in an instant as a commotion in the parking lot draws my attention. How neither of us heard all that noise before is beyond me but a group of students are gathered in the parking lot.
They form a circle and they seem to be surrounding something. The second I spot Blake's head over the crowd and the faces of a few of his football buddies, panic sets in when I take into consideration where the group is gathered.
It's near my car and Blake has a paintball gun in his hands. He's aiming at –
"My car! What the fuck are they doing to my car?"
Anger ripples, my pressure bursting through the roof when I realize what those assholes are doing.
Whether this is retaliation for what happened last evening or this is the retaliation I've been hearing whispers about all week, the whole situation is enough to send my body trembling with murderous rage.
"My fucking car! I'm going to kill that nepo motherfucker!" I rage, fists clenching at my sides as I storm down the sidewalk. I'm about to cross the street to the parking lot when Ashton jumps in front of me, wildly gesturing that I take it easy.
Can't he see that I can't? I am incapable of level-headedness at the moment. Fresh out of it.
"Whoa! Jace, calm down."
"I am fucking calm!" I grit out.
Before he can grab hold of me and prevent an even worse shitshow, I'm crossing the street and shouldering my way through the crowd.
Some grit out warnings about me pushing them around.
Others clear the path when they recognize that it's the owner of the car they're gleefully witnessing a vandalism of.
When I break out into the clearing with Ashton loyally at my side, I stop dead in my tracks. It takes every ounce of willpower not to go flying across to Blake and breaking his stupid face into a million pieces.
Paintball gun full of different colors. Splatters of red, green, white, and orange obscuring the gorgeous polished black paint job. Spray-painted homophobic slurs scrawled across my windshield, hood, and doors.
My. Car. Has been...egregiously repainted.
Out the corner of my eye, I spot Katy with her phone out, a haughty smirk on her lips as she films the entire thing. I want to smash it into a million tiny pieces.
"Oh look," Blake starts. He's got his signature shit-eating smirk again as he nods to his football buddies and points the paintball gun at Ashton and me. "It's the thief," he says about Ashton, then turns the paintball gun to me, "and the cock-sucking traitor."
My gaze flicks to the windshield of my car where the word 'TRAITOR' is spray-painted in white, and 'COCKSUCKER' is sprayed in yellow along the driver's side over the front and back doors.
Somehow, above the roiling anger bubbling beneath my skin, the pounding in my ears and head – because this troglodyte motherfucker brought the headache back – disappointment manages to worm its way in.
"Really. Cocksucker? That's the best you can do?"
He shrugs. "It's what you are. We know all about you and Daniels. I mean, it wasn't that difficult to figure out," he says, gesturing to the bruises on his face that look better than they did this morning.
No doubt, he's referring to the extent of Sky's rage whenever I'm put in a situation where my safety is compromised.
"I have to say," he continues – why is he still talking? "I'm disappointed, Jace. It's one thing to ditch us for those assholes but then you get on your knees for Daniels."
I'm not sure where it comes from but the confidence that settles over me does so with an unshakeable, terrifying calm. He's trying to shame me for my feelings for Sky while I can't possibly be bothered to be embarrassed about it.
"I haven't," I shoot back. "Not yet anyway. If you want, I can tell you all about it when I do."
Shocked gasps and murmurs ripple through the crowd of surrounding students. Some make sounds of amusement because Blake's attempt to embarrass and humiliate me is falling flat. I'm not ashamed of what I feel, and I'm not ashamed to proudly declare that I'm with Sky.
Blake's mouth twitches, anger flaring his nostrils over the fact that I'm not cowering like his past victims.
I should tread carefully since he and the others can be particularly ruthless.
There's no doubt Katy's here capturing footage that they'll use to bully me some way, somehow.
It doesn't matter than I used to be friends with them even though I never liked Katy or Blake to begin with.
Once someone makes it on their shitlist for something as trivial as breathing the wrong way in their general direction, you're on their shitlist for good.
Blake tosses the paintball gun to one of his buddies and stalks closer until he's about a foot away.
"You think you're funny, Conner? Just wait until I'm done. You won't be able to set foot in this school again. Hell, you won't be able to survive in this town." He steps closer and as he does, Ashton tries to diffuse the situation, but he stops at my signal.
If it's a fight Blake wants, it's a fight he'll get. He's been a pain in my ass for years and especially this week. I'm glad he's approaching me of his own initiative. Gives me a proper reason to bash his face in.
"When I'm done with killing your reputation, not even Daniels will want anything to do with you."
"As long as it's your doing and not because you're Brent's bitch."
His face is a mask of controlled fury, and I could see he wants nothing more than to hit me, but he laughs, stepping back. He's about to turn and just when I think he'll walk away or follow with another quip, his fist comes flying at my face.
The punch never lands. His fist is caught mid-swing in a bone-crushing grip and I stumble back, shouldered out of the way, a large figure donned in black zipping past me. Blake's face twists in agony but no sound other than a quiet outraged growl comes from him.
"What were you planning to do just now, Dalton?"
The students around us freeze. They fall into deafening silence realizing that power is no longer in the bullies' hands.
Someone touches my shoulder, and I turn to see Carter. He gives me an amiable smile, a drastic contrast to the tension unfolding and shoos me away toward the crowd. He heads over to Sky's side, crossing his arms over his chest.
He's not the only one.