As it was…it was already insanely difficult to keep myself from growing aroused. It wasn’t every day that I had Ash in my arms, naked and wet.
If she couldn’t tell me…well, maybe it was time to tell her everything. The truth. “I have something I need to tell you,” I spoke, my arms tightening around her frail shoulders. This girl was so small, it was hard to believe she was the same person who could turn the tables on Sawyer and mess with him back.
If I didn’t spit it out, I’d lose my nerve, so here went nothing.
“Sabrina and I weren’t together when she hung herself,” I said. “We broke up the week before. It wasn’t the first time we’d been separated, but…it was the first time I learned that she’d been unfaithful to me with a close friend.” The words tasted wrong coming out, but I might as well get them all out there now that I’d started. “She’d been sleeping with Travis.”
And then, because she was Ash and not someone else, she said the one thing that stunned me, the one thing that made my mouth drop: “I know.”
I was slow to pull away from her, and she went to hold onto the towel, keeping it from falling, holding it over her breasts and the area between her legs. But I wasn’t trying to get a peak. I was staring solely at her face, wondering just how the hell she already knew.
Had Sawyer gotten to her, or did Travis…
She dropped her gaze, moving toward her backpack near her desk. Ash didn’t bother to cover up her backside, letting me get a nice, long view of her smooth, round ass, but I couldn’t focus on that. I watched as she unzipped the inner zipper and pulled something pink out.
Something I’d seen before. Something I hadn’t seen in a long, long time.
“Because I have this,” she said, offering it to me.
I took it, my mouth still hanging open. It was a good thing there were no flies in the room, otherwise they would’ve gone straight into my mouth. “How did you…” I couldn’t speak. I flipped open the top, seeing Sabrina’s feminine handwriting. My stomach fell. “Where did you get this?”
All Ash could do was shake her head and close her eyes.
I closed it, running a hand over it as I went to sit at my desk. “Do you have the other one?”
That got her to look at me again. That got her out of her funk enough to ask, “What?”
“The one that goes with this,” I said. “She had two. She was always writing in two. This is the one everyone knew about.” I pushed away the emotions that threatened to swallow me up. I was definitely not expecting her to pull this out. How’d she get her hands on it? From Sawyer?
A look of pure confusion crossed her face. “I didn’t know she had two.”
“How could you know she had any?” I asked. “Where did you get this?” I was about to demand the answer from her, but Ash moved closer to me, striding to where I sat at my desk chair. She set a hand on my cheek, and I felt myself tilting my head toward her, not wanting her warmth to ever leave me.
“Have you lied about anything else?” Ash whispered, a pleading look on her face. Her other arm held up her towel, and it took too much from me to keep my eyes open. To meet her stormy stare.
“No,” I murmured against her hand, and I meant it. I meant it wholly and completely. There was not anything I’d lied to her about. Nothing I would ever keep from her. What did I have to do to make her trust me?
Ash smiled, but I could tell it was half-hearted, as if she didn’t believe me. “Okay,” she said, pulling away from me, her hand falling from my cheek. “I’m going to go finish showering now.” Her stare lingered on me for a few moments, and then she turned and walked away, her bare ass drawing my attention, even after what just transpired.
This was…not at all how I thought it would go. Why couldn’t she tell me where she got the journal? Why was it such a secret?
She paused near the door, tossing her head back, her normal self peeking through. “Did you stare at my ass?” she asked point-blank, a tiny grin forming.
Don’t lie, I told myself. There was no point in it. It’d only make you look stupid.
“Yes,” I said. My honesty only made her grin grow.
She let out a hmm sound before dropping her towel. Ash…dropped her towel before turning to close the door, showing me, for just a split-second, what her entire body looked like naked. Her breasts, her flat stomach, the area she kept neatly trimmed between her legs. Just a fast, microsecond of a peek, along with a wink before closing the door.
Well, how the hell was I supposed to keep myself from getting hard now?
Chapter Twenty – Ash
To say I was on edge would be the understatement of the year. I was always looking around, waiting for Sawyer to pop up again as the days wore on. I found the threat of him magically appearing quite awful. Things were already too complicated; I didn’t need Sawyer clawing at me like some angry feral cat.
I was in class, texting Declan. His brother was supposed to come over Saturday for our videogame date. Yeah, I couldn’t believe we were actually having a videogame date. All three of us. Me and two brothers. That wasn’t weird, was it? Declan didn’t seem to mind, but then again, after I’d flashed him my body after giving him Sabrina’s diary, he was pretty much compliant to anything I asked.
It felt like forever since I’d seen Will. I was excited too, which only made me feel guilty. After all, I hadn’t told Declan the whole truth about where the diary came from, nor had I told him about what happened with his brother.
The kiss. Kisses, actually. The make-out session that Will instantly regretted. I couldn’t help but wonder if he still regretted it, or if he’d come to our dorm on Saturday ready to fight for me.
Hah. Fight Declan for me. As if. I bet those two would bow down to the other, telling each other they didn’t deserve me and that the other should have me. It was ridiculous, but at least imagining them both trying to hand me over to the other made me laugh. Not many things made me happy these days, mostly because I felt like I was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And drop it would.
Drop it had to.
With my life, my past luck, I knew when the shoe dropped, it was going to hurt like a motherfucker.
Class let out, and I was unhurried in packing up, the last one to leave the room. I set my skateboard down to text once I reached the hallway. I leaned on a wall, my chin to my collar bone as I texted Declan back. Kelsey had been oddly quiet, although she had told me she was going through some stuff. What that stuff was, I had no idea. I asked her about it, because I was a good friend, but she clearly didn’t want to tell me, so I dropped the subject.
I also refrained from telling her about most of my drama. Whatever Kelsey was going through, there was no way it was as shit-tastic as my bucket full of drama. If I would’ve known Hillcrest was going to be so full of drama that was basically life-or-death, would I still have wanted to come here? I’d like to say no. I’d like to think that my stable, sane side would win out on that, but…
I knew myself better than that. I still would’ve come, even if I was warned that this place was just as fucked up as any other.
For someone who was so on edge lately, I sure did a terrible job of keeping guard. I was so lost in my phone that I didn’t see a crowd of three surround me, and when I looked up at who they were, I was speechless, frozen a bit like a deer in headlights. They grabbed me, nearly made me drop my phone, and dragged me into the nearest unisex bathroom.
Two of them I knew only in passing. I was pretty sure I’d seen their faces at one of Sawyer’s parties, but the one in the middle? I knew her the most, though I saw she’d died her hair back to brown.
Three girls, cornering me in the bathroom, and—I watch one of them flick the lock—lock us in. Huh. The two on the side were not worthy of much notice; it was the one in the center, the one glaring at me with hate-filled eyes, that I focused on.
I knew her better than I wanted to. I knew what she looked like naked, and I knew what she looked like
with shittily-dyed pink hair. I didn’t know her name, I didn’t know any of their names, and yet that didn’t stop them from coming onto a campus that wasn’t theirs and acting like they had the right to manhandle me.
The bitches.
“You,” the one who used to have pink hair spoke, practically spitting on me. “You messed with the wrong girl, bitch.”
Ooh, now was the fun name-calling part? I slid my phone into my back pocket, crossing my arms, making sure I looked really bored. “Who are you three supposed to be?”
“Brooklyn,” the main one spoke, “but I’m sure you knew that already.”
Ah, she thought she was more important here than she was. She wasn’t, so this was the first time I’d heard her name; I’d be sure to promptly forget it as soon as this conversation was over.
“And these are two of my many, many friends,” she went on, tilting her head, a curved smile drawing along her full, luscious lips. Lips that had been puckered around Sawyer’s dick. If she wasn’t careful here, I might just tear them off. “We’re here to give you a present.”
At her words, one of her cronies reached into her purse, pulling out a box that was about as large as a hand. Relatively small, but it took only a glance from me to know what it was. Anyone who’s walked into a grocery store knew what boxed hair dye looked like, and from the model on the front of the box, it was a sheer black color.
Wow. These bitches were stupid if they thought dying over my hair was a good revenge plan. First off, even permanent dye came out. Second off, hair always grew. Come on. Hair pranks were so old school.
Brooklyn sneered as she looked at me, inhaling as she said, “You need a makeover.” Her friends smirked, and so did she, her large chest bouncing a bit. She wore tight clothes, a low-hanging shirt that showed off some cleavage, and jeans that made me wonder if she put them on or painted them on.
I let out a sigh. “Do you really think dying my hair is the best way to get back at me?” Her other crony pulled out a pair of scissors. “Cut my hair, and then dye it? Come on. Can’t you guys be a little more creative?”
“You made me look like an idiot, and I’ve spent this long tracking you down,” Brooklyn muttered, reaching for her friend, who handed her the scissors. “I’m going to enjoy this a lot more than I should.” She started to move towards me, but I stopped her with my next words.
“If you take one more step closer to me,” I started, speaking plainly, evenly, confidently, “I’m not going to be so nice when I walk out of here.” When all three girls did nothing but stare at me, I added, “That was a threat, by the way. If you let me walk away now, no one has to get hurt.”
Brooklyn snickered. “If you haven’t noticed, there’s three of us and one of you.”
“Yes,” I admitted, “but you’re just girls.”
“And you’re just a girl,” she said, holding up a finger. “One girl, and we aren’t afraid of you.”
I let her words sink in, nodding once. “Fair enough,” I relented, moving my shoulders until my backpack was secure around both and not just one. “Who wants to come at me first?” I watched Brooklyn glance to the girl who’d given her the scissors, a petite blonde who looked a bit scared.
Good. She should be.
The blonde said nothing as she took a step forward, but she was being much too slow about it. The moment she was within arm’s reach from me, I grabbed her, swung a leg beneath her feet and caused her to slam to the floor. She let out an oof. Her head landed only six inches from the restroom’s toilet.
I thought about putting a foot over her neck, but that might be overdoing it. These were just girls, after all. Not a real threat. They just needed to learn that I wasn’t someone they could get back at.
The friend with the hair dye came after me next, and Brooklyn decided it was best to try and double team me. I went for her friend first, naturally, grabbing onto her wrist and pushing her arm away from me. Sidestepping her clumsy figure was easy, and within a moment, I had a body shield between Brooklyn and I. I held my other arm along her friend’s neck, choking her only a little, a wrestler’s move she couldn’t escape from.
“What the fuck,” Brooklyn muttered, and I kept a hold of her friend as I walked toward the door. The blonde on the floor was slow to get up, rubbing her back and moaning about how that was going to bruise.
I threw the body shield at the blonde, sending them both tumbling to the floor. The blonde, actually, sat back into the toilet, and the disgusted look on her face told me she’d touched water.
Brooklyn lunged for me, and I kept my eyes on the scissors, waiting until I feigned to her left before snatching them right out of her hand while she was wincing in preparation for a punch that never landed.
These girls didn’t know how to fight, how to defend themselves. I’d learned a lot growing up without money…I also learned a lot from my ex.
When Brooklyn realized I had the scissors, she tried to tackle me, which was exactly what I knew she would do. All it took was a well-timed sidestep and she rammed herself into the wall. But by the time she caught herself and was ready to turn around, I had already snipped a good chunk of her hair off.
Hey, if they wanted to play dirty like this? If they wanted to go old-school humiliation? I was down with turning the tables on them.
Brooklyn spun, hugging the wall, gasping as she reached to the side of her head where I’d cut the chunk off. Her hair was longer than mine, and it was a good piece right on top, too. I held the long piece between two fingers, smirking at her baffled, startled expression.
“I’m taking these,” I said as I dropped the hair, meaning I was taking the scissors. As Brooklyn’s hair fell to the floor and her friends pulled themselves off the toilet, the blonde with a dripping wet ass, I snatched the box of dye off the sink and tucked it under my armpit. “And this.” I went to the door, leaving three upset girls in my wake. “Next time you come at me, I hope you have a better plan than this.”
Brooklyn started to swear, calling me bitch, among a few other colorful names, and I walked out, smiling to myself. I found my skateboard and hurried out of the building. Once I was on the sidewalk, I skated away as fast as I could after tucking the scissors and hair dye into my bag and zipping it up.
My thumb ached, a pain deep within its joint, flaring up as if asking me if I really had to do that. And I did—it wasn’t like I was going to let those girls do whatever they wanted to me. I didn’t care if Brooklyn was pissed. She could fall off a cliff for all I cared; getting mixed up with Sawyer was not something she should’ve done. And dying her hair pink because he told her to? Where was her self-respect?
My thumb wouldn’t be happy with me for a while, but at least I’d gotten out of there without losing hair or having black dye unceremoniously plastered onto my head. I wouldn’t look good with dark hair. I’d look washed-out and old. No thanks. Not with my warm, tan skin tone. I’ll keep my natural blonde and my pink tips.
Although…those girls did give me an idea involving dye.
Chapter Twenty-One – Ash
It was going to happen tonight. After Will left, after Declan was asleep. My bag was ready, tucked beneath my bed, out of sight and full of everything I’d need. I’d also borrowed a few things from Travis; he was all too willing to help me once I explained to him my plan. It was a come full circle kind of thing, the kind of plan that was the finale in and of itself.
But enough thinking about that now; I had a room full of two brothers currently racing each other in Mario Kart to see who’d play me next.
I’d finally hooked up one of the videogame consoles I’d brought, an older one, one I’d gotten when I was younger, when my dad tried to buy my love. It didn’t last long, and my mom had closed all contact between us soon enough, which was fine. I was on her side, one hundred percent.
I was on my bed, Declan and Will on the floor, my bare feet hanging off. I wore short jean shorts, along with a flimsy tank top. Chips were my go-to snack for the day, and I was
nice enough to share with the brothers, too.
In the days following the hair-dying incident in the bathroom after class, it’d been quiet. I never told Declan about it, and I felt a little bad, but then I remembered I hadn’t told Declan about kissing Will either, so I felt a little less bad. No more mental breakdowns, no more reminiscing or having nightmares about the past. After tonight, I was going to let it go.
And by it I meant everything. I couldn’t last and keep my sanity if I kept reverting back to the past, if I let this revenge take hold of me and swallow me up. It wasn’t healthy. I knew I wasn’t the poster girl for mental or physical health, but I tried. I did the best I could with what I was given.
I couldn’t help but laugh as Declan steered his player off the race track and into the dirt, where he drove ten times slower. Will, meanwhile, had slipped on a banana peel right after being hit with a shell. “You guys both suck.” And that was a nice insult; I think a second grader would be a better player than either brother.
A fluid, easy chuckle escaped Will, and for a moment, I closed my eyes and reveled in the sound. I’d missed his laughter, the feeling I got when near him. It was different than I felt around Declan, more instinctual. Declan…my feelings for Declan were much more complicated and dealt with a lot more baggage. Will could be simple, or at least as simple as it could be with me.
But I’d never be able to have Will, just like I’d never be able to have Declan. Somehow I was the only girl on campus and I still couldn’t have a boyfriend.
Not that I was hardcore searching for one, but you know what I mean.
Fuck, not like I could have a single boyfriend when I had conflicting feelings for multiple guys, guys who all hated each other. Really, if this was going to turn into one of those reverse harem situations—which my horny vagina wouldn’t mind—it’d take something big to get them to be on the same side again.
Freak (Hillcrest University #2) Page 14