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I look back to Adrian, expecting to see his perpetually amused smile, but instead, he looks uncomfortable and maybe even a little pissed off. And he’s staring directly over my shoulder.
I hear Asher’s boots slapping against the tile floor, but what I don’t expect to hear is a pair of decidedly feminine footsteps click-clacking behind his. I turn, moving in slow motion like something out of a horror movie. Except this is real life and so much worse. Whitley is, once again, in my fucking house. Dark hair, sleek and parted down the middle, flat ironed to perfection. Pale breasts pushed up to her chin. My smile melts away.
“You have got to be fucking shitting me, right?” This comes from Nat. “If I’m ever too dense to realize that I’m not wanted somewhere, please tell me.” She looks Whitley up and down before adding, “Better yet, just shoot me.”
I’m afraid to say a word, to even make a move, in fear of everyone seeing right through me. Dash, luckily, is thrown off enough by Nat’s reaction that he doesn’t pay me any attention. Adrian angles himself in front of me in a defensive stance, under the guise of making himself a drink. Whitley looks victorious, and Asher looks…the same. His face is completely devoid of any emotion. He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed or contrite, and that right there is what hurts the most.
I’m stuck, fighting to keep my emotions in check. I want to tell Dash that I don’t want her here, but that would lead to unwanted questions. But, this is my house, and I shouldn’t have to be blindsided on my own turf.
“Welp, you assholes have fun tonight!” Nat says in a cheery voice, no doubt sensing me flounder. She grabs our drinks, handing me one before trying to usher me out back.
“We will!” Whitley pipes up, leaning forward to pluck a rogue piece of ice that fell to the counter and sucks on it in an embarrassingly transparent attempt at being seductive. “Too bad you guys can’t tag along, but you know, it’s twenty-one and up and all. Grown-ups only.” She fake pouts, careful not to say anything that can be seen as outright offensive in front of my brother, and I stop in my tracks.
Fuck it.
I pivot back around on my bare toes. “That’s okay. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your fun,” I say with a pointed look and gesture to the white residue coating her left nostril. “Clean it up, coke whore.” Whitley’s hand flies to hide her nose, her shocked expression quickly morphing into one of contempt.
“I don’t want to see her in our house again,” I say, focusing my attention on Dash.
I try to catch Ash’s eye to gauge his reaction. If he’s surprised or disappointed, it doesn’t show. I don’t know what would be worse. Doing drugs with Whitley in my bathroom, or doing her in my bathroom.
“Agreed,” Dash says, crossing his arms. “What the fuck are you thinking, bringing that shit around my baby sister?”
Or, you know, at all.
“Annnnd, that’s our cue to leave,” Nat drawls out, and this time, I listen. Adrian gives me an awkward head pat as I walk past, like he wants to comfort me but doesn’t quite know how, and Dash casts me a suspicious look—seeing through my shitty façade—that says we’ll talk about this later. I give him a short, reluctant nod before walking out to the pool without sparing a backward glance.
“Fuck him,” I announce for what is probably the eighteenth time in the past two hours.
“I concur. Fuck him with something hard and sandpaper-y,” Nat agrees, blowing out a cloud of smoke from the blunt between her fingertips. Turns out, this is the “other things” she mentioned earlier. Nat is pretty much the female Snoop in that sense. It’s not usually my thing. Not that I have anything against it, I just always end up eating everything in a ten-mile radius, then passing out—in that order. Tonight seemed like a good night for it, though.
“Without lube,” I add, and we both erupt into a fit of laughter. The pool deck is cool against my skin, but the pool that I’m swishing my feet through feels more like bath water. I look up at the stars as our giggles fade into the night, feeling content to stay in this spot until morning. Until forever. We lie in comfortable silence for a few minutes, side by side, before I break the quiet.
“I think something bad happened to Asher…and I think it’s my fault,” I whisper, voicing my fear aloud for the first time.
“What?” Nat coughs, turning on her side to face me. I stay on my back, eyes on the stars. “Why would you even think that?”
“I don’t know,” I say, dragging my fingers through my hair. “He keeps insinuating that I’ve betrayed him somehow, and there’s only one thing I can think of.” I’ve never told anyone this before. Not Natalia. Not Dash. And definitely not Asher.
“Okaaay,” she says warily.
“I was so upset when he left, Nat. You have no idea. I felt abandoned and hurt and so stupid for ever thinking he could return my feelings. After he left, I rode my bike over to his house. I guess I couldn’t believe that he was really gone. But then, I saw his dad in the window, stumbling through the living room, and it all shifted. I just wanted to hurt him. I wanted to hurt him for hurting Asher.
“I hated him in that moment. Every bad thing that ever happened to Ash was because of him, or at least that’s what I thought back then. So, I picked up a rock and threw it right through his window.”
“You what?!” Nat sputters out a laugh.
“I totally did.” Despite my mood, I feel my lips tugging into a grin at the memory. “And it felt good for a whole two seconds.”
“What happened then? And why did you say that’s what you thought back then?”
I exhale loudly, feeling particularly ashamed about this part.
“Instead of running, I just stared him down through his open window like a creep. I wanted him to know that I wasn’t afraid of him. But, he ended up telling me that I needed to fix his window or else he’d tell my parents what I’d done.”
“You didn’t.” Nat cackles. “Only you, Briar Vale, would bust someone’s window and then put it back together.”
“Shut up.” I roll my eyes. “I didn’t want them finding out. You know how my mom is about keeping up appearances, and my dad and Dash were constantly at each other’s throats then.” Nat nods, because she knows better than anyone. “I did the shittiest job in the history of ever. I had no idea what I was doing. I thought I’d show up and he’d at least give me some kind of direction, but nope.” The word pops from my lips. “He just sat in that recliner, waiting for me to figure it out.”
