One-Eighty (Westover Prep 1)

That knowledge pisses me off even more. He’s more mature than me, and she teaches kids to read. She doesn’t seem to be ruled by her physical needs either. He’s better for her than I am, that much is clear, but it doesn’t make me want her any less. She’s liked him at least since the summer before sixth grade according to her journals, but there’s still something off about the way they’re behaving.

“We have,” Dillon answers, bringing me back to the inside of the diner instead of being stuck in my head, trying to figure out what the hell is actually going on. “I went to school here until halfway through the sixth-grade year.”

“I don’t remember any of it.” Has she told him about my memory loss, or is it only a big deal for me?

“That look.” Dillon points at me and smiles before turning toward Piper. “That’s the same look he had on his face in kindergarten when you chose to play with me rather than him.”

I swallow, hating to be the brunt of his joke, but I keep silent. Piper has suffered as such for years, so sitting here while her boyfriend makes fun of me isn’t a big deal. If anything, maybe it’ll make her realize I actually have changed. I don’t think the old Dalton would sit around while someone was intentionally making fun of him.

Piper smiles, too. “I chose mini marshmallows over fruit because I’m—”

“You’re allergic to strawberries,” I interrupt. My eyes find hers, and there’s a softness to her face when she looks at me. It’s reminiscent of the way she looked yesterday when she agreed to stop being rude and promised me she wouldn’t ignore me when I walked into a room. “Is that the day I pushed you down and got your dress dirty?”

Dillon looks from her to me and back, but he doesn’t seem annoyed with the realization that she and I have been talking, and that doesn’t make sense either. Another thing that confuses me is the fact that I’m still breathing. Surely, she tells her soul mate about the way she’s treated at school. Why hasn’t this fucker kicked my ass? Why isn’t he ramming my head into the cinder block walls of the diner? I honestly deserve nothing less. Instead of doing any of that, he’s got a little smile on his face.

Her eyes widen with my question, but she nods. “I think that’s the day you started hating me.”

Her voice is soft, and for a split second, I can forget that she’s sitting beside a man who had his arm on her shoulder earlier and his hands cupping her ass when she ran into his arms. He no longer exists. It’s only her and me in this moment.

“That can’t be it,” I mutter, the whole time locking my eyes with hers. “And if it is, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“For bringing strawberries to school?” Dillon huffs a laugh. “How would you even know?”

I don’t answer him, and Piper keeps her eyes on mine.

“If I could take it all back.” I swallow around the lump forming in my throat. “I wou—”

“Crap,” Dillon says as he stands abruptly from the table after looking at his watch. “I’m going to be late.”

Piper looks nervous suddenly.

“I don’t mind being late,” Dillon offers, still holding his hand out for her to take. “I’ll make sure you get home.”

“I’ll take her home,” I offer because I’m a nice guy, of course. I have no ulterior motives.

Piper stands, taking Dillon’s hand before looking between the two of us.

“It’s up to you… baby.”

Piper’s lip twitches oddly at his delayed sentiment. She nods, and I’m actually surprised that she’s agreeing to ride in the car with me considering what happened the last time we rode together. But it’s daylight, and we’re only a few miles from our neighborhood, so I guess those things factor in her decision as well.

They share the most awkward kiss I’ve ever witnessed before she wraps her arms around his neck. She says something that’s muffled in his ear, and he holds her even tighter. This reaction is real, and I hate that they share that kind of connection with each other.

I watch, standing to the side as Dillon cups her cheek and promises to see her again soon.

Piper nods, blinking away tears as he walks away. She loves him, that’s evident, but I have a sneaking feeling that she doesn’t love him that way.

Even though we both just watched her boyfriend drive off in his loud car, she doesn’t shrug me off when I press my palm to her back and guide her to the passenger side of my mom’s car.Chapter 22PiperThis was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mistake.

The sentence is on repeat in my head, echoing over and over as Dalton makes his way around the front of the car. I’ve decided to call my mom to come pick me up by the time he climbs inside. There’s no way I need to spend another moment alone with this man. I did that last night and look where it got me.