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"You want to be a fucking douchebag? Fine," he roars. "But don't expect me to deal with it. I've babied your ass enough the past eight months. I'm not doing it anymore."
"Get the fuck off me."
"No."
I buck my hips to try to knock him off, but he's like a goddamn tank. Meanwhile, my chest is tightening by the second. Not only is the thought of Paige a sore subject, but just hearing Davianna's name is enough to trigger the worst memories.
"Trayland, I'm serious! Get off me. I can't fucking breathe."
He finds some mercy and falls to the side. I immediately roll over onto my knees, trying to find my breath again while not actually being able to do anything about it because I know he would stop me. Besides, he may know I'm taking part in illegal activities, but it's never been confirmed.
"Look at yourself," he tells me in a low voice. "You're a mess, and you can believe me or tell me to screw off, but I think Paige can help you. You just have to let her."
"Fuck no." Not a chance in hell. "She fucked me over once. No way am I ever making the mistake of trusting that girl again. I'd rather be dead."
He stops for a second, and when I look over at him, I see the utter despair on his face. "You'd rather be dead instead of a lot lately, and that's exactly what I'm afraid of."
I drop my head in defeat, but no words come out of my mouth.
He isn't wrong.
A PART OF ME was hoping that party would be the last of seeing Paige. I should have known luck wasn't going to be on my side like that. And it's not like this is a massive school. I'm bound to run into her, especially when I'm pretty sure Carter is working against me to make sure it happens. What I didn't expect, however, was for her to have the balls to try talking to me—especially after what I said to her at that party. But sure enough, as I'm leaning up against the wall, talking to Rinaldo about his run this week to pick up some shit, here she comes.
"Listen man, I'll talk to you later," I tell him.
It's not that I care about Paige, exactly. But I don't want her in his sights either. He's never given me a reason to think he's a bad person, but he deals drugs for a living. He's not exactly a model citizen.
Rinaldo shakes my hand and walks away, and I'm about to as well when Paige steps in front of me. Her light brown hair looks like she just ran her fingers through it, and her green eyes glisten in the sunlight. Just like there wasn't a whole block of time where we didn't speak, the corner of her mouth raises slightly.
"Hey," she breathes.
It's the comfort level for me. The way she looks at me like I'm her favorite person in the world. And maybe at one point I was, but I'm not anymore. She made that clear when she vanished from my life without so much as a goodbye.
"Yeah, no."
The smile drops right off her face as I walk past her. Thankfully, she's not Carter and doesn't even make an attempt to stop me. Instead, she sighs and heads in the opposite direction. And me? I'm stuck thinking about all the times I stared into those eyes and felt like I was home.
Two Years Ago
"Jace!" Paige giggles as I lift her right off the ground. "Put me down!"
I can't help but chuckle. "Not a chance, babe."
Carrying her through the house and up the stairs to my room, I kick the door shut behind me and throw her down onto my bed. No part of me seems to care that my brother is home, or that my parents could very well be, too. All that matters right now is her, and the way she was teasing me all fucking day.
"Could your skirt be any fucking shorter?" I muse.
She bites her lip and pulls it down further, but there's no use. "It's from freshman year. All my new ones were in the wash, and one was at Becca's."
My brows raise. "So your solution was to wear a skirt two sizes too small, and then drop a pencil in front of me so you had to bend down to get it?"
"I mean..." She nibbles on the tip of her finger and looks like the picture of devilish innocence, if that even makes sense.
I climb onto the bed beside her and run my hand slowly up her leg while our gazes stay completely locked and unfaltering. I watch as her breath hitches when I reach my target. I lean down and gently press my lips to hers, because as much as I want to fuck her until the bed breaks, she's the kind of girl who deserves to be treated like a princess.
I don't think I'd ever be able to explain it to its entirety, but there's something about her. Everything with us is just easy. There's no pressure for it to be something ridiculously serious, but there's a mutual understanding there.
The only thing I know for sure is this: college is going to suck without her.
