"Fine. It's settled. But why did he give you a ride?" Quinn demands.
I shrug my shoulders. "I had a flat tire, and he saw me stranded at the side of the road. He was just kind enough to give me a ride."
"That's it?" Brayden looks a little disappointed.
Quinn stares at me thoughtfully. "Huh. I've never known Parker to give rides to girls. Even Peyton said she rarely spent time in his car."
If I tell them that it wasn't the first time I rode in his car—that I even spent hours getting drunk in it the night of Carson's party—they'll probably have a field day about it. But Avery is the only person I told it to. And it was only because she was there when Parker brought me home.
"Maybe he was in a good mood."
Brayden laughs. "When is Parker Holloway ever in a good mood?"
He has a point. Parker is just in a perpetual state of grumpiness.
"Hey, Sawyer."
We all look up to see Bennett King standing beside our table, flashing his trademark dimpled smile.
"What are you doing here, King?" Quinn doesn't look happy to see him.
Bennett smirks. "Nothing that concerns you, Peters. So I suggest you look away."
Brayden and I exchange a look.
"What is going on?" he mouths.
"I have no idea," I mouth back.
But then, maybe I do. It’s common knowledge that Quinn and Bennett used to be inseparable back in seventh grade. They hadn't talked about the reason behind their falling out, but everyone assumed it had something to do with the then-affair of Quinn's mom with Bennett's dad. They haven't been on speaking terms since then. In fact, they actively avoid each other. This is probably the first time I’ve seen them interact in years.
Quinn glares daggers at him. "How can I look away when your ugly mug is standing right in front of me?"
Bennett glares back. "Then close your fucking eyes."
Deciding to break the icy tension in the air, I draw Bennett's attention. "What's up, Bennett?"
He places some keys—which I recognize as my car keys—on the table. "Your car is already parked outside."
That fast? Slipping my keys into my bag, I glance over to where Parker is seated. But he’s not looking at me. He’s busy talking to Jamie and Giovanni. "Um, thanks. Can you give Parker my thanks, too?"
"Sure thing, gorgeous." He winks before walking away, ignoring the daggers still shooting out of Quinn's eyes.
She whips her head to me when he’s finally out of earshot. "What was that jerkface talking about? Are those your car keys?"
"First things first, missy, "Brayden says. "What was that weird vibe between you and Bennett? You usually just ignore him."
Quinn bites into her bacon sandwich. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I noticed that, too," I point out.
"I just don't like him, that's all." She shrugs her shoulders carelessly. "Anyway, enough about the jerkface. Just answer the question."
"Oooh, subject change. Real smooth," Brayden snickers.
Quinn simply ignores him. "Well?"
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. One of these days we'll get the real deal out of her. "Parker had someone take care of the flat tire."
"First, he gave you a ride. Then he handled the problem with your car. Hmm, interesting." Brayden strokes his imaginary beard.
Quinn crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her hazel eyes at me. "I'll say."
If they’re already acting this way because of one simple ride—and the flat tire thing—there’s no way I’m telling them about that night. Yeah, I'd rather keep it a secret.
*******
"Hey, kiddo."
Dad is sitting at the kitchen island, his laptop propped open in front of him. He’s writing, and apparently cooking—judging from the delicious scent emanating from the stove.
"Um, hey, Dad." I drop my bag at the stool across from him. "Where's Mildred?"
"Running some errands. How's school?"
"Still the same," is all I can say.
I'm still avoiding Peyton and Liam as much as possible, turning to the opposite direction whenever I see them. But he doesn't have to know that tidbit.
Duke whines at my feet, trying to get my attention.
I rub his ear, earning a lick in the hand. "Hey, boy. Wanna go for a walk?"
He barks and wags his tail in response.
"Okay. You wait here. I'll just change clothes."
He lets out another bark, as if understanding me.
Dad glances up from his laptop. "Don't you want to have a snack first? Mildred made some bilo-bilo."
My mouth waters at the mention of one of my favorite Filipino snacks, and I’m tempted to grab a bowl and dig in.
But Duke is staring up at me expectantly. I can't let him down. "Maybe later, Dad. I'll walk Duke first."
To which Duke responds with an excited bark, as if to agree with me.
After changing into a black t-shirt and denim cutoffs, I go back into the kitchen to get Duke, making sure to attach his leash to his collar and grabbing a poop bag before heading outside.
Afternoon walks are my and Duke's thing. But whenever I'm not available, Mildred or Dad—and sometimes Avery—are there to take him out. We walk until we reach the park, and I sit on the swing, letting him sniff around the ground and play with some of the kids and the other dogs. But I make sure to keep an eye on him and his playmates. He can be a little too enthusiastic at times, and when that happens, he can accidentally knock kids into the ground.
We stay in the park for an hour, and I wait for Duke to do his business before leading him back to the house.
We're halfway down the road when a car—a painfully familiar car—slows down beside us, causing my heart to jolt. I grit my teeth and continue walking, pretending not to notice, silently willing him to drive away.
I thought I was ready to face him. But I'm not. I don't want to talk to him. I can't be around him.
When the sound of a window rolling down reaches my ears, I ignore it.
"Sawyer," Liam calls out.
Don't look at him. Don't look at him.
"Sawyer, please."
"Leave me alone." When his car falls behind, I assume he gave up and almost sigh a relieved breath.
But I'm proven wrong when a hand grabs my arm from behind. "Can we please talk?"
I have no choice but to stop and turn to face the boy who broke my heart. My traitorous eyes can't help but take in his handsome face, lingering on every feature.
God, but he looks so good in his letterman jacket, his blond hair seemingly tousled by his fingers. Or was it Peyton's fingers?
My eyes harden and I pull my arm off his hand. "What do you want from me, Liam? Are you here to gloat?"
"What? No. I—" He cuts himself off, running his fingers through his hair. "I just want to talk to you. To explain myself."
I bark out a laugh. "Is this some kind of a joke?"
"Sawyer—"
"Let me guess, you accidentally fell on that bed with your clothes off? And then what? Peyton accidentally fell on your dick?" I hiss, venom dripping from every word, before remembering something that makes my blood boil even more. "And what the hell were you thinking telling everyone that we were having sex? You damn well know that's not true!"
Learning that one from Parker was really just the icing on the cake. Who would've thought this guy's assholery could get any worse?
He opens his mouth but closes it again, shame crossing his features as he hangs his head. "I'm sorry."
I glare at him. "Which part."
"Both of them." A flush creeps up his cheeks, shame and regret written all over his face. "I'm really sorry for all I did, Sawyer."
"Well, I'm not," I say in a quiet voice.
Liam snaps his head up, his eyebrows drawn together. "What do you mean?"
"You and Peyton actually did me a favor."
He blinks, looking even more confused. "We did?"
&
nbsp; "The two of you made me realize how lucky I am not to have you in my life anymore. Turns out, I'm better off without you."
Hurt crosses his features. "You can't mean that."
You're right. I don't. But you ripped my heart to shreds. I want you to hurt the way I hurt.
I shake my head and glance away, not wanting him to see the tears welling up in my eyes. I can't do this right now. "Don't talk to me again." I pull at Duke's leash. "Come on, boy. Let's go home."
His gaze feels heavy on my back as I walk away, and I'm thankful that my tears chose to fall when he could no longer see them.
CHAPTER 7
Sawyer
"I don't know if I should congratulate him for having the balls or hit the back of his head for being an idiot," Brayden muses as we sit waiting for our teacher in our Foreign Language class, after I told him about my run-in with Liam yesterday.
I force a smile. "How about the second one?"
His thick brows pinch together in a frown. "He seriously wanted to explain himself? Wasn't seeing them naked together in that bed enough proof?"
"I honestly don't know why he even bothered. Everyone saw them together. How else could he explain that?"
"Maybe it was his guilty conscience talking?"
And he wants to appease it by apologizing to me? Does he think he needs my forgiveness to find peace? Well, he can forget it.
"I don't think that's my problem anymore."
"It's really not," Brayden agrees. "He's just too dumb to see that."
Someone chooses the moment to walk into class, and we both look up thinking it's our teacher.
It's not. It's Peyton.
Talking ceases dramatically and everyone bounces their heads back and forth between us. I wonder, not for the first time, when they're going to stop doing that.
"She asked me to go sit with her at lunch today," Brayden says quietly.
My initial thought is to tell him to ignore her. To tell him to avoid her at all costs. But he's friends with her just as he's friends with me. She didn't do him dirty—just me. There's no reason for him to stop hanging out with her. Besides, I can't put Brayden in a position where he has to choose. It's not fair to him.
"Why don't you?"
He looks surprised by that. "You're okay with that?"
Not really. "She's your friend, too. I'm not going to make you choose between us. That'd be shitty."
"Well, if you're really sure…" But I can tell he's relieved to hear it. Which means I said the right thing.
I smile. "Seriously, it's fine. Go ahead and sit with her later."
But Quinn isn't happy with Brayden when lunch comes. "I can't believe he's sitting with that cheating bitch right now. And I can't believe you let him." She's glaring daggers at Brayden and Peyton's table across the cafeteria.
I pause from biting on my burger. "Did you want me to stop him?"
She gives me an annoyed look. "Uh, yeah."
"He's her friend, too. We can't just keep him to ourselves." I glance over to them. Peyton is laughing at something Brayden is saying. Turning back to Quinn, I say, "You know, if you want to hang out with her—"
"Hell no. I don't want to hang out with her. Not after what she did to you. Honestly, Brayden is dumb not to consider your feelings. He should've known better than to think it was okay to still be friends with her."
Staring at her, I can tell she's really pissed. Which tells me she'll be giving Brayden a piece of her mind later. "Come on, Quinn. Don't be mad at him. He had nothing to do with what happened."
"I know that," she says, sighing. "I just… She doesn't deserve his friendship." She looks over in their direction once again. "I hate her."
"Why? What did she do to you?" I ask curiously.
Did Peyton steal a guy from her, too? At this point, I won't put it past my ex-best friend.
"Nothing," she shrugs. "I just can't stand her. She's always been so fake. The only reason why I put up with her is because you and Brayden did. Well, at least, you did. He's still clearly under her clutches."
I have to say, I'm a little surprised to hear that. I didn’t know that Quinn feels this way toward Peyton. I know they have their differences, and their personalities often clash. But I never thought that there's outright dislike there. It's a little disconcerting.
“Ah, screw them. You know what will help right now?”
“What?” I dip a fry into some ketchup and shove it into my mouth.
“A party.”
“A party?” I repeat slowly, remembering the last party I went to—especially what transpired there. “Quinn, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
That's an understatement. It's the last thing I want right now.
“Come on, it’s tonight. And it’s at Parker’s. You know what that means?”
“Yeah, I do," I say dryly. "Liam and Peyton won’t be there.”
“Exactly. Which is why we need to go. It'll be different this time. We’re gonna have so much fun without them there. It's going to be drama-free, I promise.”
I'm still not sold on the idea. Does Parker even want me to be there? I still have a feeling that he doesn't like me. But Quinn is very persistent, it's hard to say no.
So to shorten what would be a lengthy argument about it, I finally give in. "Fine. I'll go."
She smiles widely. "You won't regret it."
I sigh. I sure hope so.
*******
Quinn and Brayden are arguing. It's been almost an hour since we arrived at the party and they're still at it. She's still pissed at Brayden for hanging out with Peyton.
Brayden is defending himself, saying that he got my permission prior to it. That he wouldn't have gone to her, if I had said no.
"Why did you listen to her? It's Sawyer, of course she'd say yes. She has a heart of gold."
Heart of gold? Hardly.
But instead of contradicting her out loud, I decide it's time to leave the two of them. Listening to their never-ending argument is just stressing me out. Instead of having fun like Quinn said, I'm thinking of leaving. I'd have better use of my time reading a book or working on my short stories.
Shooting up to my feet, I don't bother letting them know where I'm going. Considering they're too focused on their argument, I doubt they'll even notice my absence, anyway.
I push through the crowd, which is pretty huge since Parker's parties are always big. That's why he makes sure that they're contained outside the mansion. No one is allowed inside unless to use the bathroom. Not that anyone ever complains. First, it's Parker. Second, the pool area and backyard are large enough to accommodate a huge crowd. There's plenty of space for everyone to have fun.
But I don't care much for big crowds so I decide to ignore the rule and venture inside the mansion. If anyone asks, I'll simply say I got lost looking for a bathroom. But really, I just need a quiet corner to disappear to.
Venturing upstairs, I stop dead when I hear low voices. Aria, Parker's younger sister, appears around the corner, holding hands with a guy. They stop to kiss, oblivious to my presence. Then pulling away, Aria laughs and drags him inside a room.
"Okay, then," I mutter, spinning on my heels to go the other way, only to end up almost running into someone.
"Easy there."
"Oh, sorry." I look up into the eyes of Jamie Bradshaw.
A wolfish grin curves his lips. "You lost, Pretty Girl?"
Pretty Girl? "Um, not really. I just wanted to take a break from Brayden and Quinn's bickering. But I think I'll head back now."
"Don't. I have a better idea."
"Okay?"
"Come with me and you'll see."
"What do you have in mind?" I ask warily.
He chuckles. "Relax, Pretty Girl. I don't bite. Unless you want me to," he murmurs. "But on second thought, maybe not. I'm not in the habit of fucking a friend over."
Is he talking about Liam? Like I still give a crap about what my ex thinks. I can flirt or hook up with any guy if I want to.
>
Not that I’m interested in Jamie.
Don't get me wrong, he’s a gorgeous guy. He's about as tall as Parker with short, undercut curly black hair, dark brown eyes and thick pouty lips often curved in a smirk. His rich bronze skin is smooth and unblemished and he has a well-toned body despite not being into sports. He’s definitely a sight to behold.
But Jamie Bradshaw has a dangerous air around him I'd rather not touch. Easy on the eyes, but bad for a girl's well-being. Fortunately for him, most girls from Holy Oaks Prep don't care about that part.
"Come on, I need another smoke," he beckons over his shoulder, sauntering away, giving me no other choice but to follow.
Are we heading outside? But instead of taking the stairs, we meander down the hall and step out onto a balcony.
There's only a handful of people around—Bennett, Giovanni and Parker as well as a few girls. Two of them are dancing to the music drifting from below, with Giovanni sandwiched between them.
"Jamie—fuck—man, where you been?" Bennett hollers. He's stretched out on a bench, his head resting on the lap of Lyla Matthews, one of the cheerleaders. She's lazily stroking his dark blond hair while fiddling with her phone.
"Balls deep in Mystery Girl, where else?" Giovanni snickers, prying himself away from the dancing girls. His black hair is unruly, a sheen of sweat glistening on his tanned olive skin. Turning to me, his smile grows wide. "For his sake, I hope it's not you."
Parker, who is right across from us, flicks an unreadable look my way before staring hard at Jamie.
"Calm your tits, Holloway," Jamie says, walking over to Giovanni and lighting up the cigarette his friend just handed to him. "I know better than to fuck around with her."
My lips press in a tight line. They really should stop caring what Liam thinks. It doesn't make sense, anyway. Aren't they angry with him for betraying Parker?
I glance over my shoulder at the door. Maybe I should just go back to my friends.
Giovanni raises a brow at me. "You're not thinking of leaving, are you?"
"She's not going anywhere. She's staying here and hanging out with us," Bennett says, his eyes closed, still enjoying Lyla's fingers on his hair.
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