by Lindsey Hart
“I’m so glad you’re happy,” she told Maggie as her friend finished up giving her the abbreviated notes version of her life.
“And where are you working?” Maggie leaned in eagerly.
“Oh. I- I work at a comic book store. I know that sounds lame, but-”
“Are you kidding? That sounds awesome! I remember those comics you used to draw. They were so good! And the story lines were amazing!”
“Ash writes too,” Trace prompted. “She took all that experience and she now has several romances published.”
“What?” Maggie’s mouth dropped open.
“Just online. Nothing serious,” Ash mumbled, embarrassed. She elbowed Trace in the ribs, but he just winked at her. Of course, that got all sorts of things stirring inside.
Maggie’s smile fell as her eyes strayed to the door and it took Ash all of one second to figure out why. Sonja Wills. AKA the bane of their entire high school existence. How someone could be so mean and ruthless and still be so pretty and popular was beyond Ash. Really, honestly, she was sure the universe would have taken care of that by then.
Apparently not. Sonja still had incredible genetics. She walked into the place like she owned it. She’d grown out her hair and it hung down her shoulders, thick and blonde and practically glistening in the overhead lights. Her dress was skin tight and looked expensive and of course it was red. It was matched with a pair of sky-high black heels. Her fingers were curled around a black clutch and her nails were painted a blood red to match her dress.
How very appropriate to claw us with.
The guy on her arm was, unfortunately, because the universe wasn’t fair at all, devastatingly gorgeous. He didn’t hold a candle to Trace or anything, but then again, he wasn’t the kind of guy Ash would ever go for. He had short cropped blonde hair, the muscly build of a former quarterback, hell, maybe he still played sports. She remembered he was a lawyer, but maybe he still threw a mean football in his spare time. The point was, he looked good. He had the double dimpled smile and all. His face looked like a work of art, carved from stone. He’d actually worn a suit and it looked expensive.
He and Sonja looked like money. They looked like they’d just rolled in it, but fully clothed, since they couldn’t stand to touch each other anymore.
Ash swallowed hard. She stiffened until she noticed the way the guy’s eyes immediately wondered condescendingly all over the gym before they lit on Jenny Farn’s breast. It was subtle, but there was no mistaking the way the guy moved away from Sonja like she was poison, and went to mingle, easily with fake charm, around the gym. His eyes kept darting back to Jenny’s tits the whole time.
“Wow. What a piece of work,” Trace said under his breath.
“I know. He’s looking at everyone’s tits but Sonja’s.”
“I’d be happy about that,” Maggie said as she shrank back beside Ash. “But I think it’s kind of sad. I mean, you can tell they’re clearly miserable together. Who wouldn’t be, yoked to her?”
“He’s no prize,” Trace said. “He looks like it, but I know that type. The asshole type. My sister dated a few guys like that. I wasn’t above kicking their ass when they treated her like shit.”
“Really?” Maggie grinned. She flashed Ash a thumbs up. “I like him. He’s definitely a keeper.” She lowered her voice. “Do you think he’d kick Sonja’s ass for us?”
Ash snorted. “No. Unfortunately she’s not a dude.” She went cold all over and she knew without turning her gaze that Sonja had spotted them. “Oh fuck,” she breathed. “God, Maggie, she’s coming this way.” She was glad that she had Trace beside her. Maggie tucked in so close she was practically on top of Ash.
“This is not happening. She looks like she’s on the warpath.”
Ash shuddered and winced at the same time. Even Trace’s arm wasn’t as comforting as it had been a second before. The entire gym felt cold and constricted, like it had wrapped itself around her and was cutting off her oxygen supply. She felt like every single person in the room was staring at them, that time itself stopped, but that was ridiculous. No one was looking at them. People laughed and talked and mingled all around the place. Devon kept right on playing one horrible tune after another. Clearly, he’d decided that a cheesy wedding playlist was the best way to go.
No one noticed her at all in the corner. That is, until Sonja sauntered over, all smiles and fake sweetness and poison under that hideous coating of fake sugar.
Not even Trace could protect her from the wave of malice that Sonja shot her way. As though she and Maggie did something wrong just by existing. God, can’t anyone just grow up? High school was ten years ago!
Ash stood straight. She refused to cower in front of Sonja, even when her pretty dark eyes shot daggers her way. Her makeup was flawless and tasteful. She actually could have been pretty if she wasn’t literally such a frigid bitch. Pretty sure that statement was invented just for her.
Sonja’s eyes swept over Ash. She looked her up and down and dismissed her just as fast. Ash felt a growl form in her throat when Sonja’s eyes fixed on Trace. Her mouth literally dropped open. Ash nearly whirled to see what Trace was doing. What the hell could surprise Sonja? Maybe the fact that Ash had a man at all, but the way Sonja was breathing said that wasn’t it at all. She looked… excited. Like, really excited. Horribly excited.
Oh fucking no. What the hell is going on?
“You guys!” Sonja practically yelled the gym down. Her voice actually echoed in the confined space. Because Sonja apparently carried that much weight, Devon paused the music. The last notes faded away and silence settled over the gym. At least a hundred sets of eyes turned their way. How the hell had she failed to notice how full the gym really was and how many people entered since she got there?
Maggie let out a gasp beside her and Ash went rigid. The weird thing was, Trace did too. She felt him freeze beside her, straighten like someone shoved a rod up his spine.
“Oh my god! It’s- it’s Trace Russell. What the heck are you doing here?” Sonja’s eyes flicked back to Ash. “And with Ash Johnson of all people?” Sonja’s lips curled up in distaste when she said Ash’s name, like it left a disgusting taste in her mouth.
Ash wished it did. She searched her mind for something witty and snappy to say, for some kind of comeback, but she came up short. She totally blanked out. “Do you- do you know each other?” she asked carefully.
Sonja scoffed, because why not? She was Sonja and she’d always acted like she owned the whole world. “Who doesn’t know Trace Russell?” She waved the crowds over and by then, a circle had formed around them. People were practically climbing over each other to get a better look.
What the actual fuck?
Trace’s hand tightened around her arm and when she chanced a glance at him, she was shocked to see he’d gone completely pale. He looked far worse than he had the day before at her parent’s house when he was ill. He looked like he might actually puke. Good, that would serve them right, but what the hell was going on?
“It is Trace! Oh my god!” Lia Farthing said from a foot away. She pressed in and produced her cell out of the pocket of her black pants. “Can I get a selfie?”
“Trace! Oh my god, man, I go to your stores all the time. You’re a huge inspiration. You’re part of the whole reason I decided to ditch the way I was living and get in shape.” That came from Shane Hindle, a guy who had been probably fifty pounds heavier in high school. He was much leaner and did indeed look fit.
His comment started an entire firestorm around them.
“Is that really the Trace Russell”
“The guy who owns the health food stores?”
“No, not health food. They sell supplements and vitamins and stuff.”
“Like Trace, Trace? The billionaire Trace?’
“Oh my god, I need to get a picture. He was voted most eligible bachelor in Minnesota two years ago.”
“He’s so dreamy. Look at those eyes. And that hair. Oh my god!”
/> “Who did he come with? Ashton? It can’t be her…”
“Trace? What’s he doing here? Is he the speaker for this evening?”
“How did they hire him?”
“Why’s he talking to Ash Bash and Saggy Maggie?’
Ash had been plagued by nightmares about this damn reunion, but she never imagined that her entire world could implode so easily or so quickly. She stood there with the world’s dumbest look on a face that always could be read like an open book. She had no idea what was happening. Sonja must have got it wrong. But… but why would another person have the same first name?
Sonja’s eyes went wide, and her lips curled into that horrible smile that Ash knew and remembered so well. Her hope for humanity drained away as Sonja lifted one terrible blood red nail and pointed at her.
“She doesn’t know. Oh my god, she doesn’t even know who she’s with!”
It took a matter of seconds before the whole gym erupted in gales of laughter. People pointed at her and exclaimed how stupid she was, the girl who was dating a billionaire and didn’t even know it. It was like high school all over again, but worse. Because she’d never, ever, been the brunt of a joke that her entire fucking class was in on.
Ash gasped for breath. She felt like a fish that had been tossed out of water and was slowly dying because it couldn’t get the air it needed to survive. She did the first thing she could think of. She ran.
She tore through the throng of people gathered around, through those already taking photos of Trace and of her horrified, stunned expression. She raced out of the gym, and down the hall. Even in her heels, she ran like the devil was chasing her.
Go figure, he was.
“Ash! Ash!” She heard her name, over and over, but she ignored it and burst out of the school, into the dark night. “Ash!” A scalding hand closed around her bicep and tugged her around. She struggled to break free.
“Leave me alone! Oh my god, leave me alone!” Tears leaked out of her eyes and washed down her cheeks in painfully hot torrents. She didn’t even make an attempt to brush them away or stem the tide. “You ruined my life. You’ve probably ruined my career. You ruined everything!”
Trace stood in front of her, his face blurred by her tears, but she saw him anyway. She saw the devastation written all over his features.
“You lied to me!” She screamed, aware that her voice was growing dangerously hoarse. “You fucking lied to me and now look at what happened! You made me look like a complete fucking idiot!”
Through the roar of blood pumping through her ears so furious there might as well have been steam coming out of them, she heard the dimmer roar of the crowd surging through the front doors, phones raised to record the whole complete melt down she was having on the sidewalk.
Trace put out a hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I can explain everything.”
“No!” She drew back like that hand was a viper. It might well have been. Trace made her believe in herself. He made her want something more than what she had. He made her wish and hope for a future, against her better judgement. It wasn’t real. None of it was real. “You played me! You used me! Is this funny to you? Do you get off on ruining people’s lives?”
“No! God, Ash, just- please!” Trace tried again to take her hand. She ignored it, stepped forward, and swung. Her fist connected with his mouth and it was probably his shock at the fact that she actually hit him, and no, it sure as hell wasn’t in any way sexual, that made him stumble back. She watched as he fumbled against the uneven sidewalk and fell flat on his ass.
She whipped around to face the crowd of onlookers, dismayed that almost all of them were indeed recording the entire thing. The whole fucking thing would probably be viral in a matter of minutes.
And she was so past caring.
She was so past being defenseless.
She was so past not being able to stand up for herself.
She was just done with it all.
Just. Fucking. Done.
Still a little in shock, and a hell of a lot of angry, Ash raised both hands. She flipped off every single person, sure to let the birds fly high.
“This is for all of you,” she said, rage seeping out of every single pore. “For every single one of you who have tormented another human being. For every single person out there who thinks that making someone cry or feel miserable or hate something about themselves that they have no control over is something to be proud of. This is for every single person out there who has never been able to stand up for themselves. I know what you went through. These people made my life a living hell for five years! Five! You know what? I’m done with caring. I have a good life. I love my life. I love being a geek and a nerd and I love who I am! Can you say the same thing about yourself? No, of course you can’t, because that’s right. You get your rocks off bullying other people because deep inside, you’re just a steaming pile of shit. So you can go fuck yourselves. Right here. Right now. And I have a little tip for you. Use your fist instead of your finger. It’s soooo much more satisfying.” She brought her hand to her lips and blew all those assholes one final kiss before she turned and stalked past a stunned Trace.
She ignored his split lip, though the sorrow in his blue eyes tore her to shreds inside. How could she have believed that this man had a heart? How could she have thought she cared?
Oh right. Because her vagina had done all the thinking for her.
She was fucking done with that too.
Heavy steps sounded on the sidewalk behind her and she whirled, expecting Trace. She was relieved to find it was Maggie. Her friend was breathing heavy, but she was also grinning from ear to ear. “Hey! That was amazing!” Her friend’s eyes sparkled. “I thought you might need a getaway, if you came with Trace and he drove.”
“Oh my god, Maggie, I’m so glad you have my back.” Ash wanted to burst into tears all over again, but she stuffed that away and pasted on her business face. There would be plenty of time to cry after. Off camera. If that little speech went viral, and she sure as hell hoped it did now, she wasn’t going to be seen breaking down after she’d just flipped off the entire world. “Which way is your car?”
CHAPTER 16
Ash
Of course, she didn’t even make it home before the texts started rolling. She’d barely thanked Maggie for the six millionth time for the ride home and walked in the door when her brother called.
Jason never called.
It was like he was physically incapable of actually dialing a phone.
“What the hell is going on over there? Ash! Your reunion is all over the internet. It’s gone viral, four hundred thousand views already!”
“Oh my god. Oh no.” Ash sunk down on the couch and put her head in her hands. Her fist still ached from where she’d planted it in Trace’s face.
“Why did you hit him? What the fuck is going on? You told off all those people, but why? What happened? Did someone try something? Say something? No, let me rephrase that. They must have said a lot of something to make you react that way. What did Trace do? You bloodied his face! Do I have to come there and kick his ass? Was he secretly an asshole?”
“No! God, you don’t know? Trace? As in the Trace? He’s a fucking billionaire. He owns some health food shit.”
“Supplements and vitamins,” Jason said dryly.
“Whatever,” Ash moaned. She remembered Trace saying something about it at dinner the night before.
“Ummm, Ash, I hate to break it to you, but we figured out who he was right after you guys left. I thought- I just thought you knew. I mean, you were dating the guy. Mom and dad thought you didn’t tell us because it would be awkward. And it’s not like it matters or anything. Uh- well, maybe we would have been weird. That’s why they thought you kept it to yourself.”
“What? No! I’m so stupid,” she whined. She wanted to facepalm herself at the moment, she was that dense. She couldn’t believe she’d actually hit Trace. He didn’t really deserve it, she’d just reacted blin
dly. She was completely humiliated. Her worst nightmare had just happened, and he was the one who she punished. “I was the only one on earth who didn’t know who he was.”
“Maybe there was a good reason he didn’t tell you.”
“Yeah, because I was some joke to him. This whole thing was a joke. I started out by asking him if he’d be my fake boyfriend for this reunion. I- I never expected him to say yes. He was on an online dating site for shit sakes and not a good one. Like, I pay ten dollars a month to join. If he has all that money, what the hell was he doing on there? And why would he even respond to me when clearly, he could get any woman he wants? It was a set up. He’s probably some eccentric bastard who gets his rocks off on making people think he’s helping them and then pulling the rug out from underneath them.”
“Uh- judging from the look on his face in that video even before you hit him, I don’t think that’s the case. He looked pretty upset. He was running after you, trying to get you to listen to something. And then, bam, you flattened him!”
“Bam. You know, normally it would be funny. If this was a comic. I can see me decking him with the sound effects and the big BAM bubble and then WHAM and all that, but god, it’s not funny. It’s not some comic. This is my life. He’s probably going to sue me, and I’ll go to jail, since there is evidence that I really did hit him.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s not going to press charges.”
“How would you know?” she snapped. She regretted it right after. Jason, for once in his life, was just trying to help. He was trying to be a good brother and she was making it pretty damn hard on him.
“I- well- he looked- devastated after he picked himself up. I watched the video probably twenty times-”
“Jason!”
“No, really. I watched you a couple times, and damn, you’re impressive. Now when I want to impress a chick, I’ll tell her that my sister is a romance writer and that she’s the one who decked Trace and stood up to her whole class of asshats.”