“School parking lot. Jeremy’s behind me. Want to kill him.” Each sentence is clipped as I seethe and watch Jeremy in the mirror.
“Ryne, shit, don’t. Come over here, I just got home. We can have pizza and beer and kick some rebel ass online instead of Jeremy’s ass in real life because he’s an asshat who isn’t worth the trouble.”
Oh, but I think he’s worth the trouble today.
I start the truck again and successfully shift and leave the school. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there in a few.”
“I’ll text Roman and Evan too unless—”
“No yeah, that’s fine.” Tyler and I chat for the few minutes it takes me to drive to his house. Which really means he talks to me and I occasionally grunt in response. My mind is otherwise occupied.
A splintered, useless heart, that’s what I’ve got to show for all this. Every time Dacen’s near, those splinters dig further in. These cuts, they run deep. Emotions suck. Really and truly suck. I don’t want them or need them, and yet I find myself welcoming the pain. Things with Dacen had been great while it lasted, not perfect but so good. Then reality inevitably came crashing down and the pain is a reminder that my fucked up self is too fucked up for anything truly good.
After I pull in to Tyler’s driveway and turn off the engine, I send Aunt Lily a quick text to let her know I’m staying here tonight, then trudge through the yard around to the entrance we normally use. About twenty minutes later, Evan and Roman come through the basement door.
Roman takes one look at me and swears under his breath. “Dude,” he addresses Tyler. “You said he was pissed about something, you neglected to mention he looks like complete shit. The fuck happened now?” The question is to me and I mumble a response.
Evan, turning around after setting his things down, cups a hand around one ear. “All I caught of that was mumble-mumble-mumble. Speak up.” Roman shoves him in the shoulder and he loses his balance but manages to land mostly on the couch. He rubs his arm and glares at Roman. “Unnecessary roughness. Personal foul. You owe me a beer.” Roman rolls his eyes but yanks a can free from the six-pack on the table and tosses it to him. Evan lets out a strangled cry and catches the can just before it hits the floor. “This is the beer I brought, that doesn’t count. I just basically beered myself.”
“Shut up and drink it like a good boy.”
“You’re the worst beer bit—”
“Duuuude,” Roman cuts in with a growl. “I dare you to finish that sentence.” Evan smirks but sits back quietly and cracks open his beer. The hiss of the pop-top echoes around the room. Roman turns back to me. “Okay, but seriously Ryne. You look like shit. It’s been, what, two weeks? And you still look like you just broke up with your boyfriend and are about two seconds away from crumbling.”
I flip him off.
Tyler stands up. “Okay, enough. We’re not sitting around here arguing and moping all night. Pack the shit up. It’s Friday, there’s a party tonight at the lake, and we’re going.”
* * *
Three hoursin and I still regret coming. Dacen’s here, and on the one hand, I miss his face so anytime I get to see him is a good thing, but on the other hand, it digs the splinters in that much deeper. He’s over near the fire with his friends. A wave of déjà vu slams into me like a freight train when they start dancing, nearly knocking me flat on my ass. Jeremy shoves past us and saunters over to them. He definitely smells like alcohol. Him plus alcohol seems like a bad idea.
“Umm... dude?”
In my peripheral vision, I catch the side-eye Roman gives me. I lift my can up and take a sip to hide my scowl. “What?”
“Are we just gonna stand here and pretend that shit’s okay?”
I glare at the ground. “I have no say in what shit’s okay or not. Dacen doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore, I certainly made sure of that. And I should have known better anyway. The writing’s been on the wall ever since, hell, ever since camp. We were doomed from the start.”
Evan speaks up. “So erase it.”
“What?”
“Don’t give us that ‘writing on the wall’ bullshit, Ryne. Change it. Rewrite it. Own your shit, man. Ya done fucked up but if you care about him—and you do—then fight for him, instead of standing here stewing like a miserable bastard.”
“That’s rich, coming from you of all people, Evan.”
“I’ll forgive your dickheadedness because you’re a miserable bastard right now.”
Honestly. I suppose he’s not wrong though, even if he won’t take his own advice. I glance back over to Dacen and frown. Jeremy once again won’t keep his hands to himself. He’s trying to dance all up on Dacen, and Dacen clearly keeps stepping to the side, away from him. It happens again. And again. And again. My blood boils hotter and hotter each time. Obviously, I don’t like him touching Dacen, but that’s not even the issue right now. It’s that he’s pissing him off and being a disrespectful jackass. I grit my teeth. When it happens yet again, I throw my can down and stalk over. Jeremy gives a surprised yelp when I grab him by his shirt collar and shove him away from Dacen. He’s definitely not sober but he’s not so far gone as to not be aware of his actions.
He glares and steps in front of me. “Back the fuck up, Sutton. Are you too stupid to realize you’re not wanted here? You lose. Move along.” He makes a shooing motion, much like I’d done to him at the diner.
I don’t know what the hell this dumb fuck is talking about though. I’ve never been in any sort of competition with him, not really. I grab his shirt collar again with one fist and yank him forward until he’s a few inches from my face. My tone gets extra deep and deceptively calm. “I will hang you by your toes and snap your dick in half like a piece of dry spaghetti if you don’t fuck off right now, Jeremy. Today is not the day to try my patience.”
There’s a light touch on my other wrist, and when I glance over it’s Dacen. Our eyes meet and he begs me silently to stop. Did I misinterpret things and he was actually dancing with Jeremy? No. There’s no way I misinterpreted Dacen’s body language. I know his body inside and out and I know what I saw. I didn’t imagine the tension and annoyance. None of that seems directed toward me right now, which maybe means he just doesn’t want me to get into any trouble on his behalf. I give him a sad smile. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect him. That’s just the way it is. Too bad I couldn’t figure out a way to protect him from me.
