If this was how Ash grew up, standing in fucking grocery lines, no wonder she had such an attitude. What a waste of time. And the people—so rude, too.
I wasn’t cooking anything ridiculously complicated, because I knew trying to make something super fancy would only blow up in my face…or set my kitchen on fire. I wanted to show Ash that I was willing to try, not burn my house down. Granted, it wasn’t my house, I only rented it, but my parents would probably be a little upset if they found out I’d destroyed my rental home completely.
What was I going to cook? Chicken alfredo. The noodles seemed easy to make—pretty much just boil water and toss them in—and the alfredo sauce you could buy in a jar and just heat up. The difficult part for me was going to be the chicken. Was it wrong I’d never cooked chicken before? Not chicken breast, anyway. The kind you bought in the freezer section, yes, I had managed to toss those things in the oven occasionally.
After I got back from the store, it was time to clean. I very rarely cleaned too, but I wanted everything to be perfect. Call me gay, but I wanted everything to be just right. I needed Ash to see my effort, to acknowledge it at least, to tell me there was at least a small glimmer of hope that I could be with her.
Convincing the guys would be the hard part. Travis was already on my side, but Declan and Will…Declan didn’t trust me, for good reason, and Will hated me because of what I did to his brother. Well-deserved, of course, because I’d been the king of dicks, but I was trying to turn a new leaf here. Couldn’t they see that?
Really, the only thing that mattered to me was Ash. I didn’t know if I’d ever met another girl I was willing to do anything for, a girl I wanted to be better for. Ash had come into my life like a whirlwind, a natural disaster that was both beautiful and terrifying. I’d been a fool before, a drunk, high idiot, but no more.
I blocked all my old contacts, scrubbed their numbers from my phone. During my cold-turkey abstinence, Travis had done a good job of wiping the house free of my pills. There would be no temptation. That wasn’t to say I wouldn’t think about it, because I did, but when I did, I forced myself to picture Ash and what she’d say, what’d she do and how she’d look at me if she ever saw me lose it again.
Her disappointment was something I wanted to avoid above all else. I wanted her approval.
And her love.
God, that sounded sappy.
After cleaning, I showered and changed into nice clothes: a light grey button-up shirt and dark pants. I knew I was overdoing it, but I didn’t care.
My nerves fought to get to me as I cooked. I’d texted Ash and told her dinner would be ready at five, so I didn’t know if they’d come right at five, or beforehand, or what. For a while yesterday, I grew nervous that Ash was going to cancel this dinner date—or whatever the fuck you were supposed to call something like this—but she didn’t. Thank God. I would’ve gone crazy if she would’ve told me no.
Ash probably would’ve thought she was protecting me or something stupid like that by canceling, too. She was being the hero, trying to keep me safe. Fuck that. I didn’t need protecting. I fucked up fine on my own, and I got up on my own. This time I’d had a little help, but I didn’t need her to worry about me.
I worried about her more than enough for the both of us. I mean, her ex was a fucking serial killer, for God’s sake. You didn’t get much more messed-up than that. She’d been stalked, nearly raped, hit by a car…two of those things because of me and what I did. I wouldn’t say Brooklyn got what she deserved, but, well, let’s just say if I would’ve been around and been in my right mind, I would’ve given that bitch a piece of my mind.
I had the noodles cooking, the sauce heating up, and the chicken was a few minutes from being done in the oven when I heard the doorbell ring. It was only because I knew who stood on the other side that my heart did something funny in my chest: it skipped a beat. Or it beat faster. Whatever. Either way, I was excited. I knew I fucked up left and right last semester, but I missed seeing Ash.
Heaving a great sigh, I left the kitchen, rounding the island as I went down the hall, straight to the front door. My palms were actually sweaty; I felt like a fucking noob, going on his first date.
Only this wasn’t a date, and the girl I liked already had a boyfriend. More than one, actually.
God, this whole situation was weird, wasn’t it? Most people didn’t have to deal with shit like this, but being a Salvatore, I always had to deal with shit most people didn’t. Why not add in a polyamorous relationship to the mix of my life?
I opened the door after unlocking it, immediately meeting the stormy grey eyes of the girl who had every piece of me and didn’t know it. Ash stood wearing her usual ensemble: torn jeans, high top shoes, a hoodie over what was surely a ratty shirt, and a grey beanie over her blonde and pink hair. She did wear some makeup around her eyes, making the color in her stare pop even more.
Declan stood closest to her, on her right, Will just behind him, and Travis in the back. None of the guys looked as though they dressed up, which was fine.
Ash blinked when she saw me, a smile growing on her face as she stepped in before I invited her—typical Ash. “I didn’t know we were supposed to dress up for this,” she spoke with a grin, yanking off her beanie, causing her hair to look a bit unkempt. “You should’ve told me. I have a dress back at the dorm.”
Now it was my turn to act shocked. As the guys filed into the house and Travis shut and locked the door, I asked, “Really?”
“No,” she said. “Have you ever seen me in a dress, Sawyer? They’re not really my style. I was born wearing jeans.” Beside her, Declan chuckled as he took off his jacket.
I brought everyone into the living room, sitting them down on the couch. “Does anyone want something to drink? I have…water.” Shit. I should’ve bought something else to drink. Not alcohol, because that shit couldn’t touch my lips, but pop, or juice, or whatever the fuck it was people drank besides water.
The three guys looked uneasy on the couch, and Ash stood on her feet near the window, glancing outside. “Water’s fine,” she said, giving me a smile.
That smile held power over me no other smile ever had. That smile could make me do things I never thought I’d do. Wanting approval, wanting to be better, giving up everything that made me me these last few years. It was hard to give up the parties, the booze, the nameless sex, but it was all worth it for her. Everything was worth it for her.
I went into the kitchen, pausing when I got out water bottles. Should I pour them in glasses, or was that weirder than just giving them the bottles themselves?
As I was lost in my own thoughts, a feminine voice behind me said, “You look anxious, Sawyer.”
I nearly knocked over the bottles I’d gotten out as I turned to face her. “What? I’m not.” A lie, because I was, which was very unlike me in every single way. Ash made me feel…so different. So wanting. So lacking everything.
And to think, at first, I’d written her off immediately, wanting to simply use her to get back at Declan.
Stupid, stupid.
She did not address my blatant lie, instead checking me out. “You also look very handsome, but you always do, and you know it.”
“I’m not that confident.”
She rose a single eyebrow, a look of incredulousness on her face. “You’re not? Huh. Could’ve fooled me. After everything, I thought I had you pegged down. Smug, over-confident, sleazy, sarcastic, sometimes over the top—and your smirking—”
Half my mouth quirked into a smile as she spoke. “You have something against my smirking?”
“Maybe. I’ve never met someone who smirks as much as you. It should be illegal.”
Smirking should be illegal. I didn’t even know what to say to that. Thankfully, I didn’t have to say anything, because right then the oven dinged, my timer going off and telling me the chicken was done.
“I’ll get the waters,” Ash told me, moving closer to grab them. She started to arrange them on th
e kitchen table, and the others got up, chatting amongst themselves as they watched me take out the chicken from the oven and pour the pasta into the strainer over the sink.
Within five minutes, I had plates down and portions on each of them. I’d cut up the chicken, laying a few pieces on each after giving each plate a good helping of noodles and alfredo sauce. I was no chef, but I really, really hoped this meal came out alright.
Hmm. Maybe I should’ve practiced before the big event…
Ash sat near Declan and Will, Will choosing the seat farthest from me as he could. I sat across from Ash, Travis on my other side. Everyone had plates before them, along with water bottles that made this meal look trashier than I anticipated. Oh, well. I fucking tried, okay? I couldn’t be a master at everything.
The table was silent, everyone either staring at their food or at me. I spoke up, “At least it smells good.” I put spices on the chicken, so it wasn’t just straight-up chicken breast cut into slices.
“It does,” Ash said, her eyes on me. “But now comes the real test.” She stuck her fork in a piece of chicken and lifted it to her mouth, biting off half of it. Almost immediately, she spat it back out.
Shit. That wasn’t good. Food was meant to be swallowed. You know, like other things—
Double shit. Bad time to picture getting head from Ash.
“Did you thaw the chicken before putting it in the oven?” she asked, giving me a sad smile.
“I couldn’t just stick it in the oven?” My response made her laugh, and I let out a sigh, getting up. “Well, looks like I can’t even do dinner right. Sorry I fucked yet another thing up.” Really, I should’ve known all along that this was a waste, a pointless endeavor for us. I’d never be able to impress Ash, never be able to show her just how much she meant to me.
I was Sawyer Salvatore, and I’d known for years that because of my last name, I’d never find my own happiness. Salvatores didn’t get their happy endings.
My chair scraped against the floor as I moved away from the table. “You guys can go, if you want. I knew this was a bad idea from the start, so…sorry for wasting your time.” I said nothing else as I went up the stairs, unbuttoning my shirt as I went.
I wanted to burn it. I wanted to burn it and I wanted…
It didn’t matter what I wanted. It never mattered. It didn’t matter when I was in high school, and it sure didn’t matter now. Things hadn’t changed from Midpark; things had only gotten worse. I’d lost Sabrina, lost my friends. I’d never get them back, not after what I did.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was how I felt before, these…dark, depressed feelings were what led me down the road I took before. I couldn’t think like this. I had to focus on Ash—but how could I, when I so clearly demonstrated that I wasn’t good enough for her?
I tried to use her. I fucked her best friend. I pushed her away while drowning myself in pills and alcohol. I ridiculed her and swore at her, told her she was nothing.
How stupid. She wasn’t nothing. Ashley Bonds was the opposite of nothing to me, and that’s why this hurt so bad. Realizing you weren’t good enough for the one person you loved…it cut like a thousand knives, each wound agony.
I made it to my room, moving to sit at the edge of my bed, my shoulders slumping. My shirt, halfway unbuttoned, gave my chest room to breathe. Even though no one else was in the room, I shook my head to myself, wishing that things were different. That I was different. I knew I’d always been full of self-loathing before, self-hatred, but now that I was sober enough to face reality, I realized just how much I hated myself. How much I wished I wasn’t me.
Things would be so much easier if I wasn’t a Salvatore anymore. If I could just move on with my life and forget everything that had happened. Start new, start fresh. Be a new person, a new me. But life wasn’t like that. There was no rewind button, no restarting your life. You only got one, and I’d pissed away the last two years.
Was this just prolonging the inevitable? Was I going to slip up and relapse? Was I going to fuck up again? And this time, when I fucked up, was no one going to be around to save me from myself?
No. It wasn’t their job to stop me, to save me. It wasn’t up to them to keep me from killing myself slowly, and that’s what I was doing before. Killing myself slowly, softly. Drowning out my guilt with anything I could get my hands on. The girls, the booze, the drugs—I’d tried it all while Travis looked on, but now that Travis had Ash to focus on, he wasn’t there to stop me from going too hard, too far.
I literally had no one.
My eyes stared at my hands, my back hunched over. I wouldn’t blame Ash and them for leaving. She could take her Scooby gang and go home, take turns fucking them or whatever it was she did. She could forget all about me and be completely fine; after all, hadn’t she done well for herself after I left? Her ex was gone, she was happy with her three boyfriends, and I…I was just the outsider looking in.
I’d never be a part of their group. I’d never be with Ash. I’d never get what I wanted. But that’s the thing about life: when you had nothing you wanted, there was hardly a point to it. When you couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, what was the point in trying to keep walking when you would be lost forever?
Another sigh left me, and I bent my head down.
I hated myself. Everyone else in the world could loathe me for my mistakes, but they didn’t realize that I already had a weighted conscience, that I already felt like shit for the things I’d done. I failed Sabrina, and I failed Ash. I could do no one proud, not even my parents.
This life of mine was nothing but a cruel joke.
Chapter Thirteen – Ash
When Sawyer got up and stormed upstairs, I watched him go. I supposed I could’ve called out for him, could’ve stopped him, told him it was all right, that I was just teasing him—even though, technically, it wasn’t really teasing if it was true. The chicken was still a bit cold in the center, meaning it wasn’t cooked all the way, meaning it wasn’t thawed enough before he put it into the oven.
But that was okay. Who gave a shit about the chicken?
The sounds of metal clinking on porcelain caused me to turn my head and glance at Travis. He’d shoveled a forkful of noodles into his mouth, having pushed aside the chicken on his plate. His black hair was combed to the side, the tattoos on his chest peeking out under the collar of his dark t-shirt. He swallowed and said, “The noodles are still good.”
Declan was slow to shrug and say, “I like noodles.” He ate some, as if testing to see if Travis was right and the noodles were indeed edible. With a full mouth, he said, “He’s right. They are good.”
The tension in the room was high, and maybe that was why I burst out laughing. We’d all put too much pressure onto tonight, and we shouldn’t have. That was our mistake. This should’ve been nothing more than friends hanging out, not a dinner to impress.
“Eat,” I told them, slowly getting up. “I’m going to drag down the pouty one.” Each and every one of their eyes watched me as I walked around the table and left the kitchen. My feet took me to the stairs, and for a quick moment I was thrown for a loop of deja vu.
All the times I’d been in this house. When I came to the parties and started drama. When I came to fuck with Sawyer—and that time I came to actually fuck him, but he was too high or drunk. Staying in this house while Ray was stalking the streets, with my feet in bandages after walking so long on them. When I was taken against the front door by Travis, and then in the bed with Declan…
This house held a lot of memories, and hopefully it would hold more.
I spotted Sawyer sitting on his bed, and again my mind played back memories. Me, going upstairs with him at that first party. Him, sitting on the side of the bed, almost exactly where he was now, grabbing my wrists and pulling me close, holding me there even when I told him no. He’d been drunk, but that was no excuse. That was my first peek at the broken boy that was Sawyer Salvatore.
Now, n
ow I knew him. Now I knew what guilt he carried on those shoulders. A very similar feeling to how I viewed everything Ray did. Sawyer thought it was his fault for Sabrina’s death, if he would’ve answered her calls and her texts the day before, she never would’ve died. Hell, maybe if he’d been with her, Dean Briggs would’ve seen him in the house and decided against his plan. Maybe Sabrina would still be alive, and I’d never be here, at Hillcrest, trying to reunite these ex-friends.
I stepped into the bedroom, so quiet Sawyer didn’t hear me. Or maybe he was too lost in his own head to pay attention to the world around him. Again, I knew what that was like. It was hell, pure and simple, when you were drowning in your racing thoughts and didn’t know how to stop them.
The difference between me and him was that I wanted to help him. I wanted to be there for him. If he could not stand on his own, I would be his crutch.
I moved in front of him, standing less than a foot away from his knees. “Hey,” I spoke softly, causing his green eyes to slowly turn up to me. I noticed his shirt was unbuttoned halfway, the smooth plane of muscles on his chest visible and alluring in every single way. He must’ve messed up his hair, for his short blonde locks stuck every which way. The expression sitting in his emerald eyes was one of sorrow.
He’d come back from rehab better, but he wasn’t whole. He couldn’t be. Learning to live with yourself while holding such guilt took time…but maybe we could learn to do it together.
“I thought you were leaving,” he muttered, his lips drawn into a frown. Hell, I’d take a typical Sawyer smirk over the expression he currently wore—and that said a lot.
“I never said I was, or that I wanted to,” I told him, inching closer. “It’s okay that you didn’t cook the chicken right. The other guys are downstairs, eating your noodles.” I lightly pushed his shoulder, giving him a grin. “You didn’t mess everything up.”
I’d meant to be playful, to be comforting, but he just looked so…sad. So lost. So depressed and miserable.
Without the parties, without the drinking and the drugs, without the constant string of girls in his bed, without his friends and his sister…what did he have?
Liar: A Dark College Romance (Hillcrest University Book 6) Page 11