Chute Yeah (The Valentine Boys 3)

And when I arrived, all eyes turned to me.

Casey’s arms didn’t drop from around Banks’ neck, and I had a surge of anger roll through me at the look in her eyes. The look of amusement. Of disgust.

“What are you doing here, Goth Girl?”

“Candy,” I said for the hundredth time. “My name is Candy.”

“Whatever.” She waved me off. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to the dance,” I paused for effect. “You’re currently hanging off of my date.”

All eyes turned to Banks, who hadn’t said a word.

Hell, he didn’t even move a muscle as he stared.

“You do realize, right, that he was just playing?” she said. “Everyone at school knew it was a joke. Why would he ever say yes to you? You had to realize that it was a joke.”

That was when it hit me.

He’d said yes.

But he hadn’t meant it.

He’d said yes, but only because he wanted to do this exact thing to me.

I stiffened my spine and refused to cry. Refused to show them even the slightest bit of anger or sadness.

“Well, that’s too bad,” I said softly.

My eyes met those of Callum, Casey, and then Banks.

Nobody said a word after that, so I took that as my cue to leave.

I turned on my heel and saw my dress swish at my feet.

The dress that’d made me feel so beautiful earlier—the dress that wasn’t black, but a deep plum—made me feel hideous now.

There was a reason that I dressed in black and tried to stay out of the limelight. Life worked better when people didn’t notice me.

It was when people noticed me that things went bad.

Kind of like right now.

I should’ve stayed in the main room. Should’ve ignored the whispers and the laughing and stayed and enjoyed myself. Maybe found Mack to tell him all about what Banks had done.

Should’ve… but didn’t.

I decided to go find a bathroom so nobody could see me cry.

And, instead of finding the bathroom, I found a very drunk, very handsy Thom Green. Thom Green who had no problems giving me shit and bothering the absolute hell out of me whenever he felt the need arise.

Usually, I had my armor on, though. The makeup. The jeans. The dark clothes that made me seem more unappealing.

But today I was dressed pretty—for Banks.

Today, I wasn’t in that armor.

Today, Thom Green saw me.

Today, Thom Green ruined my life.

“Well, hello there, Goth Reject.”

***

It was only after everything was all said and done that it finally made sense in my head.

I was nothing.

I’d spent the last four years of my life living in some fucked up world, and I really didn’t want to live in it any longer.

Not after tonight.

Not after what had just happened.

With shaky legs, I stood up on my broken heels and started for the gymnasium’s door.

I pushed it open, uncaring of what I would find on the other side.

I’d already experienced the worst that could ever happen to a woman tonight.

What did it matter now?

I was a zombie as I walked across the parking lot toward the crosswalk that would lead me home.

I only lived five blocks from the school. That was an eight-minute walk.

“Candy?”

I looked over, completely out of it, to find that I’d walked right up to where Banks and his brother were leaning against the tailgate of their bigger brother’s truck.

I blinked.

Ignored him.

And kept walking.

“Candy, wait up,” Banks said as he rushed to me.

If it’d been any other person, I would’ve been scared.

I would’ve been scared out of my mind after what had just happened.

But this was Banks.

For all his assholeness, he wouldn’t hurt a woman.

More so, if he’d realized what had just happened in that gym with his friend, he would’ve gone in there and kicked the kid’s ass.

But nobody would find out.

Because it didn’t matter.

Not anymore.

“I said wait,” Banks said, putting his hand on my arm. “What’s wrong with you? Why do you look like someone just beat the shit out of you?”

Because they had.

I didn’t answer, though.

Couldn’t.

“Can I give you a ride?” he asked.

No.

No, he could not.

Mostly because if I sat down, I wouldn’t make it home.

I was determined.

I pulled my arm away from Banks and continued walking.

I was halfway down the street that would lead to my house before Banks caught up to me in the truck.

He followed me all the way home.

Then he walked with me up to my door.

“Listen, Candy,” he said. “About tonight…”

I looked at him and let him see all the horror of the night. All the pain. All the grief. All the embarrassment.

Everything.

He flinched.

“I didn’t ask her to come to the dance with me,” he said. “She didn’t ask me either.”

It didn’t matter anymore.

I was over that.

“Have a good life, Banks Valentine.”

With that I walked up to my room, waved at my father in his recliner, and didn’t stop until I was standing in front of my bathroom vanity with a bottle of my mom’s sleeping pills.