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I turn, shoving Blake towards the door. "Leave him alone. Fuck off."
Blake barely moves an inch, glowering down at me. "You're possibly the most fucked up person I've ever met. I don't give a shit what sad story you have. You're a bad person, and you're bringing down my brother with your stupidity.Thisis why no one cared when you put on a song and dance about leaving. Maybe that's the best idea."
"Get out!" I scream, shoving him again.
He gives me a final glare before looking at Asher coldly. Turning, he leaves and I slam the door closed behind him.
Asher is standing rigidly, his face devoid of emotion. I try again, hugging him this time.
"Ash, come on. We'll sort it out. Let's just take a moment to calm down."
He shakes his head, arms by his side. He's not hugging me back, and I can feel his walls rising.
"No, Rylee. We've taken this as far as it can go. It was a mistake. I need some space to think."
Tears spill before I can even register that they were there. I poured my heart out to him last night, doing everything I swore I would never do. And now, he's rejecting me. I always believed we could make it right and that maybe, once he said those words, we would be unstoppable.
But, not anymore.
Not now.
"Ash, please," I quietly plead. "Don't do this. Don't shut me out."
He looks at me coldly, the pain fresh in his eyes. "Rylee, for fuck's sake. Just back off!"
I stare at him wide eyed, more tears falling as I face an Asher I haven't seen for so long. My chest hurts as I scream inside to fight. I want to yell, just so I can try to drag some type of emotion out of him. Maybe I can snap him out of this mood.
But the damage is already done. He's not looking at me like he usually does. He's not seeing someone he loves. Instead, he's seeing someone who just helped bring his whole world to pieces.
I say nothing, stepping back slowly over books and trophies that now scatter the floor, before turning and leaving the room. I close the door quietly behind me, heading straight for my bedroom.
I need to get out of here. I can't stand to be in the house at the moment. I could go to Wheels but that would lead to many questions I'm not ready to answer, and I don't want Butch or Vito involved. What if they never look at me the same too? What if I tell them and they are disgusted by me?
I can't lose them too. It would kill me.
Pulling out my phone, I text Phoebe, my fingers shaking as I hit the keys. Tapping send, I wait, small sobs breaking free.
My phone dings and I hastily read the message. She's at the college, in between classes. I send her a quick, short message back saying I'm on my way. It's not my preferred choice of destination, but maybe going to class is what I need. A distraction to take my mind off everything while I figure out a plan.
I quickly go into the bathroom, washing my face with water as I push the emotions down and lock them inside a box. I can be strong, I can do this.
My eyes are still red but I head downstairs, grabbing my keys off the hallway table as I slip out the front door. The twins are nowhere to be seen and I'm grateful for it.
The Chevy roars to life, the wheels spinning as I hit the gas a little too hard. But that's fine. If they didn't know I was leaving, they sure do now.
When I arrive, Phoebe messages me that she's in class for another hour. I decide to slip into Professor Sampson's class. It's already started but I've been late before. He gives me a little glare as I sit down, but continues his lecture.
I sit at the very back, seemingly listening to him drone on, but my mind is elsewhere. I'm desperate to stop thinking about what has happened, but it's useless.
My eyes trail over my peers, and for a moment I'm jealous. They all seem normal… happy even. Their worlds aren't blowing up to smithereens. Their worst problems are assessments and finding potential spouses to appease their parents.
I notice Kev is absent, his usual spot empty. I feel bad for him, dragging him into this mess. He didn't deserve to be a pawn in our game.
I keep checking my phone, waiting and hoping that Asher will message me. Hoping that he will tell me it's all okay and to go back to him. But no matter how many times I stare at the screen, the notification bar stays empty.
"Okay, class. That's all for today. Your next assessment is due Monday next week. Have a good day," Professor Sampson says dryly.
Students start standing, gathering their belongings. I stand too, ready to head out when he calls out to me.
