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I wanted to stay, to talk to her, to ask her what the fuck I could do about Skylar.
But that wasn’t what she wanted from me. All she cared about was getting her pussy pounded, and that was fucking it. She didn’t give a fuck that I’d stayed with her all last night at the library, that I had driven her home in the pouring rain, that I had taken care of that fucking prick who wanted to fuck her on her break.
Tearing my gaze away from her, I pulled up my pants and snapped on the button. Once I grabbed my laptop, I walked toward the door without so much as agoodbyeor asee you lateror even athanks for letting me use you.
“You’re going?” she whispered.
No fucking response from me.
“Wait!” she said.
When I turned around, she shuffled to button up her jeans. Then, she furrowed her brows harder and stared at me, her cheeks blotchy and red. After clasping her hands together, she played with her fingers and gave me a nervous smile.
“What the fuck do you want?” I asked her, trying to sound like I didn’t give a fuck. But really, I was glad that she had called me back to stay with her for a little longer. I didn’t want to go to class, and I really didn’t want to leave her after that.
After every time that we had sex, I left right away because that was what I’d always done, but … I didn’t want to keep being that asshole to her. I didn’t want her to think that I didn’t care, though somehow, at the same time, I wanted her to think exactly that.
“I, um …” she stuttered and crouched down next to her textbooks, opening one up and pulling out a piece of white cardstock sheet. “I was going through my stuff last night, and I …” She shuffled from foot to foot and couldn’t look me in the eye. “I found this hanging around.”
“The fuck is this?” I asked, snatching and staring at the drawing that a four-year-old must’ve done.
Vera stepped toward me, nervously staring at the drawing and chewing on the inside of her cheek. She shuffled her dirty, off-brand Vans on the tiled classroom floor. “You don’t remember?”
“Remember what?”
After scratching the back of her head and giving me a whiff of her strawberry shampoo, she took the drawing from me and folded it back up. “Oh, it’s just, uh … you gave it to me for my fifth birthday. I found it last night.”
I let out an empty chuckle. “I made this shit for you?”
She was lying. She had to fucking be. I hadn’t made that for her. And if I had, why the hell did she still have it lying around her house anyway? I thought she fucking hated me for everything that I was, like everyone else did.
“Yeah,” she said, voice softer this time. She peeked up at me and gave me a half-smile, her nervous eyes searching mine. “You did. You don’t remember?”
“No.” The word came out cruel, hopefully jarring, just like she wanted from me. “Why would I remember a stupid drawing that I did fucking thirteen years ago? Come on. Think with your fucking head.”
The more I said, the harsher I became. I felt nothing but hurt from last night, and part of me wanted her to hurt worse. I wanted her to understand the pain of feeling like nobody gave a shit about her.
She thought I had everything because my parents had money. But I didn’t have shit.
“Oh,” she whispered, looking down.
Because I wanted to be an asshole—that was what she asked for, right?—I snatched the paper back from her and walked to the classroom door. This drawing wasmeaninglessto me. “I don’t give a fuck about this.”
“If you don’t want it, then give it back,” she said, grabbing my elbow.
I tore myself out of her hold. “No.”
“Please,” she said, voice filled with desperation. “You gave it to me. It’s mine. I want to keep it.”
With my back turned toward her, I stopped in my tracks and clutched the drawing in my fist. I stared down at it, and … and I fucking smiled. This wasn’t much, but she wouldn’t have kept this shit—and she really wouldn’t have brought it to show me—if she didn’t care.
If Vera really didn’t think we had been friends at any point, if she wanted to fuck me and leave, if she didn’t give a shit about what I thought, then she wouldn’t have kept this all these years. Vera cared.
Vera fucking cared.
“Please,” she whispered, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I want to keep it.”
After wiping the smile off my face, I turned back around and thrust my hand toward her. “Take it then.”
