Who Breaks First: A New Adult Bully Romance (Clearwater University Book 1)

by Eva Ashwood

  West scowls, seeming to hate this idea already. “How do you propose that we do that?”

  “We fake it. We fake being friends with her. Once we get her to open up to us, we get in there and we destroy.”

  “You gonna be the first to do it?” Reese asks.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t even think I can pretend to be her friend.” West’s gaze goes out of focus, like he’s lost in some thought. Then he shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “I don’t hide my feelings very well.”

  I scrub a hand down my face in frustration. Yes, it’s true that West probably isn’t going to be able to fake it all that well, but I seriously want him to try for the sake of this plan.

  “Man up, dude,” I tell him, and West darts me a look that tells me he’ll man up with his fists if I don’t back the fuck off. I hold up my hands in a gesture of peace, but I don’t let up. “I’m just saying, I think this is the only way we can seriously get her out. I know that’s what you want more than anything, West. You want her gone. So do I. And she’s not going anywhere unless we can pull her in again and truly get under her skin.”

  He blinks at me, his expression going blank. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You know… I gotta admit,” Reese chimes in, chewing on his lip, “I’m not sure she deserves more of this shit. When we have our group project meetings, I sometimes feel bad for her.”

  “Seriously? Why are you telling me this?” I clench my hands. Leave it to Reese to play the fucking nice guy right now.

  “Hey, I’m just being honest, man. I know she fucked up and won’t admit to it. But she’s not as tough as she wants us to believe. Emma is seriously sensitive, and what we did to her in high school screwed her up. It caused damage.”

  “Of course, it caused damage!” I snarl. “That’s the fucking point.”

  “Listen, I’m not saying I’m opposed to this plan, I’m just trying to be honest,” Reese says, throwing his hands into the air.

  I take another long pull from my beer, giving myself a moment to calm down. Even though I don’t like Reese’s opinion, I am happy he’s telling the truth. That’s more than I could ever say for Emma, who doesn’t have an honest bone in her body.

  “Can we all agree to this new approach?” I finally say, wanting to get everyone on the same page.

  “I’m in,” West grunts, like he just wants the conversation to be over with.

  “Yeah, I guess that I’m in too,” Reese finally says, though doubt still reflects in his eyes.

  And we’re off to the races.

  I implement this plan the very next day. It’s a Friday, and after what feels like an endless Anthropology class, I see that Emma is running out the door to avoid me. I rush after her, placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Emma yelps in shock when I touch her, and I jerk back a little myself, surprised at the current of electricity that seems to pass between us. The same irresistible charge that made me almost lose it with her the other night—the one that threatens to make me forget how much I hate her.

  Drawing my hand back quickly, I master myself as she turns to me and speaks breathlessly.

  “What do you want?” she asks.

  “There are some things that I want to say.”

  “Jesus. Fine. Just say it.” She glances side-to-side like she’s scoping out the nearest exists.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Emma stops her wayward glances and looks me directly in the eye.

  “What?”

  “I said, I’m sorry. For what happened at the restaurant.”

  She takes a little time to bask in her confusion before replying. “Really?”

  “I mean, there’s a lot of shit between us, right? But I think, for the sake of our parents, we should let it go. We should try to be neutral, just like you suggested for our project meetings.”

  Shit. I’m playing this moment with such skill, I deserve a fucking Academy Award right now.

  Her brows draw together, skepticism clear on her face. But beneath it, I see something else. Hope.

  “Are you serious?”

  Shrugging, I lift my hands, palms out. “Yeah, I am. Whatever happened in high school, I think it’s time we just let it go. I’ll drop it if you will. We can start fresh.”

  “I… I actually think that’s a really good idea,” Emma replies. “I don’t want to wreck this for my dad. I can tell he’s really happy.”

  A surge of anger threatens to rise up in me—yeah, I bet that asshole is fucking happy—but I shove it down. Instead, I smile at Emma, letting my eyes warm, and I’m rewarded when the distrust in her eyes fades just a little.

  There’s still a long way to go to get her right where I need her, but this is a good goddamn start. She wants to believe.

  Now, let the shit show begin.

  13

  Emma

  No way.

  No fucking way.

  This can’t be real. There’s no way he’s offering on olive branch after how pissed he was the other night. He looked furious and disgusted when he saw our parents together, and the memory of it makes hurt and anger boil in my veins. It’s like he thinks there’s something wrong with my dad, something wrong with my whole family. With me.

  But the expression on his face now is so different than it was at the table. There’s actual warmth in his eyes, and he seems genuinely relieved that I agreed to start fresh.

  It’s not fair. I know that. Part of me wants to cling to my need for revenge—but where would that leave Dad? It would fucking crush him, and probably ruin his relationship with Claire.

  So I have to try. For him, I’ll let go of the shit in the past.

  “Hey, do you want to have dinner tonight?” Trent asks, drawing me from my thoughts.

  “Tonight?”

  “Yeah. Somewhere off-campus where we’ve never been before. Maybe that would be a good sort of… stepping stone. To start over again.”

  I pause, chewing my lip, searching his face for the lie. I have every reason to believe Trent is fucking with me somehow. But there’s something in his voice and expression that makes me want to trust him.

  Is this for real? Could this possibly be happening?

  “Sure. That sounds… nice,” I finally say.

  The scary part is, I’m not lying.

  This is exactly what I want. I want to resolve things with Trent, and I feel like if I do, that will help me to resolve things with the other guys too. Trent was the one that started this whole fucking thing, and maybe he’s going to be the one to end it.

  “There’s a new place I keep driving past. Passerotto. Maybe we should meet there. On Church Street,” he goes on.

  “Oh, yeah, I know that one.” I blink. It’s a nice spot. I thought he’d pick some dump, his way of showing me this really doesn’t matter to him at all, but Passerotto is an upscale Italian restaurant. A date-night place. “Okay. I can meet you there at like, seven?”

  “That’s great. Thanks for doing this, Emma.” Trent flashes a smile, and his beautiful gray-blue eyes sparkle.

  Ugh, why is he so damn attractive?

  I’m still angry at him. I still hate him. But when he looks at me like this, it’s hard to remember that. When I think back to last night when we almost kissed in the hallway, I feel literally weak in the knees, which I didn’t even know was a real thing.

  But that can never, ever happen.

  It’s one thing to agree to be cordial for our parents’ sake, but I can’t let actual feelings get involved. The devil wears a beautiful face. I have to remember that. Always.

  “Sure,” I mutter, blinking to clear my vision as I tear my gaze away from his. “I’ll see you later.”

  Brushing past him, I head toward the door.

  “See you,” he says softly.

  As I pass, I can feel him turning to watch me leave, can feel his gaze burning into my skin. A flush comes to my cheeks, and despite myself, I’m starting to look forward to our dinner tonight. My whole body comes alive w
hen I’m around Trent, and I can’t help but crave more of that.

  The day passes in a pleasant blur. Leslie is texting me nonstop to talk about her boyfriend. Apparently, things are really heating up between them, and the shit she wants to tell me about what they’ve done makes my ears burn. I’ve never been that much of an over-sharer, but hey, to each their own.

  I text her back as I sit in my second-to last class of the day, trying to sound suitably excited about the size of her boyfriend’s dick.

  When class gets out, I actually have a smile on my face as I walk across campus to my final lecture of the day. After the absolute disaster of last night, this could finally be the fresh start I’ve been hoping for. No more bullying, no more bullshit.

  As I pass by one of the elegant buildings that border the quad, I see the three Icons standing behind a large pillar. They don’t see me, and I draw in a breath, reminding myself of my resolve to make peace for Dad’s sake. But as I walk toward them, planning to say hello, I hear Trent start to speak.

  “Dude, she totally fell for it.” He chuckles, a low, gravelly sound.

  Wait. What?

  I push my back up against the pillar so that they can’t see me, heart hammering as I tilt my head to listen.

  “Are you serious?” Reese asks, and I can’t tell if he’s asking because he’s impressed by Trent or genuinely surprised.

  “Of course, I’m fucking serious. Can anyone resist this smile?”

  “For fuck’s sake,” West grunts. I hear a sound like Trent punching him in the shoulder.

  “Shit. I can’t believe this plan is actually working,” Reese adds.

  “It was fucking easy. Emma is gullible,” Trent says nonchalantly, and bile rises in my throat. “Once we have her trust again, all we’ll have to do is get in there and destroy her. For good this time.”

  West grunts again, and Reese doesn’t say anything. But they don’t need to. Trent’s words, the triumphant tone in his voice, have destroyed me. I know every fucking thing I need to know. I get it all now.

  I feel my heart pounding in my chest, and for a second, I think I might actually pass out from the rush of blood. There’s a wild buzzing in my ears, and my skin is hot, like I might spontaneously burst into flames at any moment.

  A huge wave of anger comes over me, and I can’t fucking take it anymore. I slip away from the pillar before they can see me, then I start running—literally running—away from them and back toward my dorm.

  Screw my last class.

  Screw a fresh start.

  If they want to fuck with me, then I’m going to fuck with them. It’s either them or me, and I’m choosing me.

  “Hey,” I say to Leslie as I storm into the dorm.

  “Hey!” She perks up, smiling broadly at me. “Sorry for all the texts today.” She waggles her tongue at me, not looking sorry at all.

  “No worries. I’m really excited for you.” The words come out by rote, but I’m not even hearing them. All I can think about is my plan for revenge. “You still going to your parents’ house this weekend?”

  “Yes, again.” She rolls her eyes, pouting. “It’s kinda exhausting, but they get super upset if I don’t go.”

  “That’s understandable. My dad gets really worried when we don’t have dinner, like, once a week.”

  This is great. With Leslie gone, I’ll have a perfect window of opportunity to do what I have floating around in my mind.

  “Uh… Earth to Emma! You okay?” Leslie asks, squinting at me.

  I don’t know if we would’ve ever become friends if we hadn’t been thrust together as roommates, but since we are living together, we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well. And she knows me well enough to read the expression on my face and guess that something’s roiling my thoughts.

  But I can’t tell her about this. For one thing, I don’t want to put my problems on her any more than I already have. And for another, I don’t want her to talk me out of it.

  It might make me a bad person, but I don’t fucking care anymore.

  “Yeah, fine,” I reply, scrubbing my face clean of agitation and affixing an easy smile in its place. Of course I’m lying. I’m not at all okay, and I just want all of this torture to be over with, once and for all.

  This will end it. It has to.

  “Uh, okay. Just checking.” She gives me another look, and I’m sure she doesn’t believe me. But she lets it drop. Then she waggles her eyebrows at me. “Rory and I are gonna have sex when I get back.”

  “Oh. Really?”

  They’ve done literally everything but that, and I’ve gotten a blow-by-blow—literally—of the whole thing, so I’d be lying if I said I was excited about hearing all about this.

  “Yeah. It’s about time. He’s been wanting to fuck since like date one, but I made him work for it. When I get back, it’s going to happen.”

  “Do you want that?” I ask.

  “Damn straight, I want that!” Leslie says with a laugh. “I’ve wanted it from the moment I met him. I just don’t want him to think I’m cheap, you know. I want him to think I’m special. Someone worth waiting for.”

  “I’m sure he thinks you’re special. Any guy would.”

  I smile at her, wondering if I made a huge mistake ending things with Peter. I didn’t feel much with him, and I’m not the type to think she needs a man to give her life meaning. But I wouldn’t hate having someone think I’m special.

  Special. Not trash.

  Not gullible.

  “Aw, thanks, sweets!” Leslie coos, coming in to give me a hug. “You’re the best.”

  I hug her back, and we hang out in the dorm together for another hour, but a part of me is happy when I see her take her packed bag and walk out the door. It’s time to put my plan into action.

  Before I can chicken out or question too closely why I’ve chosen this method of revenge, I sit on my bed and pull out my phone, sending Trent a quick text.

  ME: Hey, Trent. I have an idea. Do you want to come over to my place instead of the restaurant? My roommate is gone, and I thought it would be nice. It’s more private, so it would make it easier to talk. Lemme know.

  I send the text, and then I wait.

  And wait. And wait.

  Trent is not texting me back, and I’m beginning to think he’s onto me already. Maybe one of the guys saw me sneak away from the pillar and knows I heard Trent talking shit. If any of them did see me, I’m sure they would’ve told him.

  But, no. A long fifteen minutes later, I get my reply.

  TRENT: Sure. That sounds awesome.

  My hands shake with relief. If he had refused, I would’ve come up with something else, but the longer I think about it, the more sure I become. This is the perfect revenge. It’s exactly what Trent deserves from me.

  An eye for a fucking eye.

  ME: Cool. See you soon.

  I clean things up a little bit around my room, not that it was all that messy to begin with because I’m a neat freak.

  All kinds of thoughts are running through my head at this point. Did I do the right thing? If I try to get revenge on Trent, am I not stooping just as low as he already has? Guilt gnaws at me, and I need reassurance. Funnily enough, I call my dad.

  “Hey, Ems,” Dad says, picking up the phone on the second ring.

  “Hey, Dad,” I reply. “What are you up to?”

  “Taking Claire to the movies tonight. You want to come?”

  “Um, I think I’m just going to stay in tonight.”

  “Okay, sweetheart. I hope you’re not too shaken up from last night,” Dad says. “Claire said she hasn’t seen Trent like that in years. Apparently, he went through a hard time after you and I left Clearwater, but she said he’s been a lot better lately. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. If I had, I would’ve eased us all into that meeting a lot slower.”

  “No, no.” I force a smile so he’ll be able to hear it in my voice, but my stomach twists. Trent went through a rough time after we left? No. If Clair
e’s talking about shit like what he pulled last night, that was going on long before we moved out of town. “Everything is totally fine. Trent apologized and everything. I feel a lot better.”

  “That’s good, Ems. You know, I know you guys lost touch after you started at your new school, but I had sort of hoped me and Claire seeing each other would give you two a chance to reconnect. But… maybe that won’t happen. And that’s okay!”

  Oh, God. I have so much to say here that I don’t know where to begin. But Dad can’t know about any of the stuff that really went down, and I can’t even tell him that Trent is coming to my dorm tonight. That would raise some serious suspicion. Fuck, what if Trent told his mom that we’re having dinner tonight, and then Claire tells my dad?

  What would he think if he had any idea what I’m planning? That I’ve chosen my revenge over his new relationship?

  “The most important thing, Ems, is to always keep your cool. When people push you, don’t push back. Be a peaceful warrior,” he says, chuckling good-naturedly.

  “Right. Thanks, Dad.” My voice is a little hoarse.

  Shit. I called my dad for reassurance, and all I got was a reminder that what I’m doing is just as fucked up as what Trent has already done. Dad and I say our goodbyes, and I hop in the shower, trying to wash off the ugliness that I feel in my soul.

  I feel dirty, confused, and so fucking angry. At Trent. At myself. At this whole damn situation.

  But Dad was wrong about something. Taking the high road is all well and good, but a peaceful warrior is not going to deflect a hungry pack of wolves.

  Steeling myself, I decide to keep the plan just as it is.

  When I get out of the shower, I start by moving my computer halfway across the desk and turning the camera on. I make sure to cover the little green light with a black piece of tape so that it won’t be obvious it’s recording. I position the camera so that it’s pointing toward the bed, then look up at the clock. It’s 6:50. Trent should be here soon.