“Quit with the fucking jokes. I want an answer.”
“For one thing, I wasn’t alone in the hallway. There were a ton of people all around, and they sort of slowed me down.” She rolls her eyes. “And I got a little lost. Okay? Are you happy? I couldn’t find my way.”
“It’s not that difficult.”
“Maybe not for you. However, except for that visit with Doctor Lauren, today was the first time I’ve left this apartment. It’s not like I had a map on me. I had to try to remember.”
“You could have asked someone for help.”
“Right.” She taps her chin. “Excuse me. Instead of living in the dorms like everybody else, I’m staying with Lucas in his apartment. Can you direct me to it?”
I grit my teeth, my jaw tightening to the point of pain. She pushes my buttons, every single one of them. When I don’t respond and continue to stare at her, she throws her hands into the air. “I’m sure that would have gone over really well and that it wouldn’t paint an even bigger target on my back once everyone found out where I was living and with who.”
“You believe there’s a target on your back?”
“Give me a break, would you? We both know there is. Or was there some other reason for you to look so smug yesterday when you told me I had to start classes today?”
White-hot fury rolls through me, burning up my insides. How the fuck does she do that? It’s like she reads my mind. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” A heartbeat passes. The air between us grows hotter, like the flames of a fire moving in. “Fine. Whatever.” She stomps past me and to the guest room like a child throwing a tantrum.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I demand, following her. “I wasn’t finished talking to you.”
“I’m getting changed.”
“Not until I’m finished. I want to know how everything went today.”
“It went fine.” She tries to shut the door in my face, but she’s not quick enough. Besides, I have a key—though even if I didn’t, I’d kick the fucking thing down.
“Anybody give you any trouble?”
“No. In fact…” She spins on her heels, then has the audacity to jab a finger against my chest. Bolts of electricity span across my chest. It’s like being electrocuted. “You could have told me who these clothes belonged to. You mean I have to wear her fucking clothes around school? Do you know how that made me feel when she told me they were hers?”
“Wait, she told you? You spoke to her?”
“Yes,” she breathes, placing a hand over her heart, her lashes fluttering against her cheek. “I spoke to the great Aspen. Beautiful, shiny, madly in love with a certifiable psychopath. She had to make sure I knew it was her generosity that led to me wearing something other than your clothes around school.”
“Don’t talk about her that way.” I barely bite back a growl.
“Is there any aspect of my life that belongs to me? I can’t even say what’s on my mind. I have to wear somebody else’s clothes. I have to live in someone else’s apartment and sleep behind a locked door. I have to take classes at this godforsaken school that I never wanted to go to or agreed to attend. And now I can’t even talk about how embarrassing it is to know the girl everybody holds me responsible for hurting provided me with clothes.” Her voice breaks. “I don’t even deserve new clothes. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“I don’t recall asking you how you feel,” I growl and continue, “Do you know why that is? Because I don’t fucking care. If you did the right thing and stayed away from the wrong people, there wouldn’t have been any reason for Quinton to take you in the first place. You wouldn’t have gone through that shit. And you wouldn’t be here, whining like a baby about not getting brand new clothes.”
Her eyelids flutter, crimson flooding her cheeks. “That’s not how I meant it.”
“That’s sure as hell how it sounded.”
“I’m telling you, it’s humiliating. What, you think I never wore castoffs? You think I didn’t shop at Goodwill? That’s all I was ever able to afford. The problem isn’t having new clothes. It’s that these are her clothes.”
“She happens to be the only girl around here I know well enough to ask for clothes.”
“Well, here.” She pulls the sweater off over her head, balls it up, and shoves it into my chest. “I don’t want them.”
“Because that’s going to solve all your problems.” I toss the sweater onto the bed, but she sweeps it off with her arm.
“No! Don’t do me any favors, and I sure as hell don’t want her doing them for me, either. She already thinks she’s better than me.”