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“Well, I ruffled her up a bit, so she ran to the bathroom. I ran after her and pinned her in the hallway, trying to get her to confess. She wouldn’t do it.”
I don’t dare tell the guys about the other aspect of this. How I pinned her against the wall and we almost kissed. That part of the story, I keep to myself for obvious reasons. Mostly because she turned me down, yet again. And despite everything, it fucking hurt, yet again.
“Dude, what is wrong with her?” Reese shakes his head, a disbelieving look on his face.
“She’s a fucking liar, that’s what’s wrong with her. And she’s ashamed of what she’s done. It’s time to take things to the next level. Ever since she got here, we’ve been too easy on her.”
“How do we take it to the next level?” Reese asks.
“Well, I’ve been analyzing this,” I say, leaning forward. My stomach churns with a momentary surge of guilt, but I force it away. If Emma felt guilty for what she did, maybe I would too. But she started this game. “We haven’t fucked her up yet because she doesn’t trust us. Her walls are too strong. In high school, we seriously fucked her up because she was our friend. She was vulnerable to us. Now, what we have to do is get her to open up to us again so we can finally bring her down.”
West scowls, seeming to hate this idea already. “How do you propose that we do that?”
“We fake it. We fake being friends with her. Once we get her to open up to us, we get in there and we destroy.”
“You gonna be the first to do it?” Reese asks.
“Yes.”
“I don’t even think I can pretend to be her friend.” West’s gaze goes out of focus, like he’s lost in some thought. Then he shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “I don’t hide my feelings very well.”
I scrub a hand down my face in frustration. Yes, it’s true that West probably isn’t going to be able to fake it all that well, but I seriously want him to try for the sake of this plan.
“Man up, dude,” I tell him, and West darts me a look that tells me he’ll man up with his fists if I don’t back the fuck off. I hold up my hands in a gesture of peace, but I don’t let up. “I’m just saying, I think this is the only way we can seriously get her out. I know that’s what you want more than anything, West. You want her gone. So do I. And she’s not going anywhere unless we can pull her in again and truly get under her skin.”
He blinks at me, his expression going blank. “I’ll think about it.”
“You know… I gotta admit,” Reese chimes in, chewing on his lip, “I’m not sure she deserves more of this shit. When we have our group project meetings, I sometimes feel bad for her.”
“Seriously? Why are you telling me this?” I clench my hands. Leave it to Reese to play the fucking nice guy right now.
“Hey, I’m just being honest, man. I know she fucked up and won’t admit to it. But she’s not as tough as she wants us to believe. Emma is seriously sensitive, and what we did to her in high school screwed her up. It caused damage.”
“Of course, it caused damage!” I snarl. “That’s the fucking point.”
“Listen, I’m not saying I’m opposed to this plan, I’m just trying to be honest,” Reese says, throwing his hands into the air.
I take another long pull from my beer, giving myself a moment to calm down. Even though I don’t like Reese’s opinion, I am happy he’s telling the truth. That’s more than I could ever say for Emma, who doesn’t have an honest bone in her body.
“Can we all agree to this new approach?” I finally say, wanting to get everyone on the same page.
“I’m in,” West grunts, like he just wants the conversation to be over with.
“Yeah, I guess that I’m in too,” Reese finally says, though doubt still reflects in his eyes.
And we’re off to the races.
I implement this plan the very next day. It’s a Friday, and after what feels like an endless Anthropology class, I see that Emma is running out the door to avoid me. I rush after her, placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Emma yelps in shock when I touch her, and I jerk back a little myself, surprised at the current of electricity that seems to pass between us. The same irresistible charge that made me almost lose it with her the other night—the one that threatens to make me forget how much I hate her.
Drawing my hand back quickly, I master myself as she turns to me and speaks breathlessly.
“What do you want?” she asks.
“There are some things that I want to say.”
“Jesus. Fine. Just say it.” She glances side-to-side like she’s scoping out the nearest exists.
“I’m sorry.”
