I frown. He makes it sound as if... “She moved back here?”
“Yeah. She’s starting school this semester.”
A jab? I wouldn’t put it past Dylan. I never even finished high school.
I wince, both for that and the fact Audrey will be in the same town as me once more. “Good for her.”
“Yes, it is.”
If Dylan’s trying to make a point, I’m totally missing it. I turn my back to him and take a long draught of my beer, trying not to think, not to imagine.
How my life would be if the circumstances were different. How I could be attending college with Audrey, going to parties with her, sharing courses.
Not kissing her, or hugging her, though that’s the best memory I have, the one burning in my brain, the one getting me through the really tough times. Her kiss, her smell, her arms around me. She’s the only girl who can make me hard just by looking at me.
Damn.
I can never have her that way, but that’s okay. I’d settle for being her friend, a person she can look at without flinching, without turning around and leaving.
Even that seems impossible.
Dylan steps closer to me, right into my personal space. He’s a big guy, wider than me in the shoulders, though I’m taller. He’s intense, but he’s always been a quiet, calm kind of person, so when he grabs the front of my T-shirt, I’m so startled I let my bottle fall. It crashes to the floor.
“Stay away from her,” he says. “Do you hear me? Steer as far away from her as you can. You’re not good for her, Ash.”
My T-shirt is still bunched up in his fist and I’m too shocked to speak. I pull away, and the cotton fabric tightens around my damaged back and bruised ribs, making me hiss in pain.
Dammit. I’m safe here. Safe. I repeat the word to myself and try to calm the hell down.
Dylan is staring at me, his eyes fierce. He means what he said. He really believes I’d hurt Audrey.
“I didn’t talk to her,” I manage, my jaw tight. “Take your hands off me, fucker.”
And when he does, it’s all I can do not to punch him. I was caught by surprise, but I’m stronger than him. Trained in ways he can’t even begin to guess. I’ve been fighting all my life.
Violent, my school record says. Angry. A kid with issues.
Yeah, that’s me. Nobody ever asked why. Not that I’d tell them.
Maybe I should just grab my bag and go. But where? Going back right now might kill me.
And staying is killing my pride. Yet here I am, trapped in Zane’s apartment, trapped in my shitty life, with no damn way out.
***
Someone is shaking me.
I roll over, burying my face in the crook of my arm. I don’t wanna wake up. I’m dreaming, and it’s a good dream. My mom is smiling at me. She looks like she did before she got sick—back when I was a kid. Her hair is long and curling, dark like mine.
‘Do what you do best,’ she says, still smiling. ‘Do your best. You’re the best.’ And her face somehow morphs into Audrey’s, smaller and freckled, with those huge green eyes that burn all the way to my soul.
Her words make my chest tight, so tight I think my fucking heart might burst.
“Ash. Wake up.” Another shake, and the dream shatters.
Sunlight hits my eyes like a laser beam, forcing me to squint. I’m not hung over but I feel like it. I only had one beer at the party because I never let myself get drunk. But my back aches so badly I wish I was left to mope in bed all day.
Zane has other ideas, though. “Come on, fucker, get your ass out of bed.”