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“Do you have a second?” I ask her.
She freezes, and I can see as she takes a deep breath before turning around. “You can have ten.”
Her voice is softer than it was the last time we spoke, and somehow, that soothes me. It’s the first time she’s looking at me without any pain or anger in her eyes. She even has a small amount of her sass back.
I swallow, realizing that maybe telling her this is a bad idea. If she’s getting better, this could ruin that. Then again, after Blaire completely ambushed me this morning, I don’t see another option. Well, unless I let her find out on her own, which could be catastrophic anyway.
“Are you going to talk, or just stand there staring at me?”
Snapping myself out of it, I rub the back of my neck. “I, uh…I have a date tonight.”
She instantly looks like she was punched in the stomach, and I hurry up to explain.
“But it’s not what you think. Blaire set it up as a PR thing. I’ve been pushing it off as much as I can, but she really wants to get ahead of this whole mystery woman thing, before they uncover the truth.”
Her eyes look anywhere but at me. The floor, the walls, the ceiling. “Okay. Thanks for telling me.”
There it is. The cold, shut-down tone that’s meant to push me away.
“Please don’t think it’s anything more than it is,” I press. “No part of me has any intentions of finding someone else right now. You meant more to me than that.”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine, Asher. You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“I do, though.”
“No, you don’t.” Her shoulders sag, and she’s never looked so defeated. “Have fun tonight. Who knows, maybe the two of you will hit it off.”
She doesn’t give me a chance to respond as she closes her locker and walks away, leaving me and what we had behind without looking back.
26
TESSA
The house is filled with a bunch of college students just looking to have a good time. Music vibrates the floor and the alcohol flowing through my veins takes a little bit of the edge off, but it’s not enough. The pictures from Asher’s date last night are burned into my mind. I know, I know—I shouldn’t have looked, but can you blame me? After he dropped that bomb, I felt like someone hit me with a battering ram. All the wind was knocked right out of me, and I had to resist the urge to vomit.
The internet is filled with photos from Asher’s “first date in years,” which is total bullshit, but of course, they’re not allowed to know about me. To anyone who doesn’t know him, he looks happy, sitting with the brunette who was selected because of her similarities to me. For those who have spent time with him, though, it’s obvious he’s not. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and his dimples stay hidden from the world. He kept his hands to himself, which is a telling sign in itself. All these things remind me the date was fake—orchestrated by the devil in Gucci herself—but it doesn’t stop the pain that came when I first saw them, because he should be on that date with me. He should be happy with me, not faking it with some lookalike.
I think I’ve managed to put on a decent front, with the help of Easton’s mood enhancers. They keep a smile plastered on my face, and more importantly, make it so I’m not on the verge of a breakdown every second of the day. At least not visibly. Everyone thinks I’m perfect. That I’ve got it all put together. What they don’t know is while I’m laughing with my friends, I’m dying inside.
I’ve never been one to put the reason for my happiness all on one person. Giving someone that kind of power over me was something I tried to avoid at all cost, but I couldn’t help it with him. It’s like one minute I was just enjoying our time together, and the next I was dependent on his attention. He’s the antidote to my pain. When I’m with him, everything fades away, but when I’m not, I drown in the misery.
“You look like your best friend just died,” Easton says, appearing at my side out of nowhere. He checks his own pulse. “Oh, nope. I’m still alive.”
I feign disgust. “Who said you’re my best friend?”
“Ouch,” he hisses with a hand on his chest. “You’re mean when you’re moody.”
“I promise I’ll be nicer if you give me another.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. No way. You just had one two hours ago.”
“It’s wearing off faster lately,” I whine, but he doesn’t budge.
Taking a step closer, he bites his lip. “I can think of another way to take the edge off.”
Easton is hot, don’t get me wrong. There’s a reason I dated him for most of last year. However, all his words bring is an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Or maybe that’s my liver begging me to stop drinking. My brows raise, and he waggles his own. Nope, definitely Easton.
“Tempting, but I think I’ll pass.” I smirk as I look him up and down. “Going back to old toys almost always ends in disappointment.”
