How can I still love him?
How can my heart flutter at the sight of him when my mind screams at me to run, knowing what's at stake?
Seb arches one eyebrow, as if to say“Really?” But I don't give him the explanation he's apparently looking for. Being around Seb is just too painful. After everything we've been through, all I wanted was a way around this, a way to fix shit between us. To go back in time and change the course of that night. But I can’t.
I have to get away from this toxic-ass town and the people in it.
A fresh start.
I don’t want to leave Maddie and Tate, but that’s not enough to keep me here anymore.
“You're leaving?" Seb's deep voice races over my skin, making it pebble. I press my lips together to stop them from trembling. Everyone is silent around the table as we look at each other, neither of us breaking the awkward silence.
My heart flutters—not with excitement. It’s fear. The word hovers on the tip of
my tongue as my stomach drops and my heart pounds. Why am I even doing this? He doesn’t need an explanation, nor do I want to give him one.
A humorless chuckle leaves my mouth as I toss my bag over my shoulder and turn to walk away.
Just when I think I'm safe, my bag is being pulled to the ground, only a few feet away from the table. Seb grips my arm, stopping me from taking another step, but just as quickly as his fingers wrap around me, they disappear even quicker. As if touching me will physically hurt him.
"Is this the part where you act like you care that I'm leaving?"
"No. I don't care." His voice is full of displeasure as he towers over me, forcing me to crane my neck up. The expression plastered on his face is lethal, and my mouth goes dry. His eyes narrow, as if they're trying to pierce through me. His shoulders are tense, and there’s a noticeable tic in his jaw. Hazel eyes lock with mine, hardening even more.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, and I can't hold in the laugh.
"Why the fuck would I tell you anything, Seb? We aren't friends, remember?"
"Yeah, you made sure of that, didn't you, Mary?" He grits his teeth in disdain.
“Fuck you, Seb." My voice strains with a mix of rage and indignation. My irritation shifts into full-on rage. Seb stalks forward until my back hits the wall, his hand wrapping around my throat.
“Fuck me?” His laugh echoes around us, but there’s no humor in it as he leans forward until his lips brush the top of my ear.
"I don't fuck used women." Peeling his hand from my neck, he steps back, turning and storming off past the group.
Tears sting my eyes as I stumble back, my hand rubbing my throat. Nausea rolls through me at the realization of what he said. It shouldn’t hurt anymore—it’s been happening for the past six months—but fuck, it does.
Seb doesn't look back as he leaves the courtyard.
My legs feel like lead as I drag myself back to the dorm, deciding I can’t stomach classes today. Grabbing the joint I havestored in the pocket of my hoodie, I place the tip in my mouth. The lighter fumbles in my hand, and it takes me a few seconds to get the flame to catch. An instant relief comes with the feeling of smoke hitting my lungs.
The overwhelming noise of the outside world becomes a distant background chatter, drowned out by the tranquility that envelops me.
Screw him—and everyone else, too.
Chapter 8
Sebastian
Seeingheraftereverythingis a fucking punch to the gut each time.
Same table. Same stupid book in her hand. Her hair is longer—the exact shade of blonde. Almost white.
Six months.
Six months of pretending I don't care.
