One-Eighty (Westover Prep 1) - Page 80

A soft knock on my door doesn’t even make me lift my eyes.

“Hey.” Peyton has stopped in to chat more than once since I took Piper to the emergency room three days ago, so I know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “Did you finally text her back?”

She knows the answer, so I don’t bother to speak it out loud.

“You need to go see her.” Peyton sighs when I continue to ignore her. “She’s been blowing up my phone checking on you.”

Now I raise my eyes to hers. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her that you have exiled yourself to this room, and you’re heartbroken and that she needs to get better so she can come over here and slap you until you snap out of it.”

“Pey—”

She holds her hand up. “I didn’t tell her anything. You aren’t responding to her calls and texts, so I haven’t either.”

“What?” My brow furrows. “You shouldn’t ignore her.”

She shrugs. “You shouldn’t either. When you respond, I’ll respond.”

“She needs someone right now,” I remind her. “Frankie is still in Utah. She doesn’t have anyone else to talk to.”

I hurt even more knowing that my sister has been ignoring her as well.

“She needs you,” Peyton specifies. “So, you need to call her. I’m dying to tell her how easy the test was the other day.”

“I’m the last thing Piper needs,” I mutter, my eyes drifting back to the open journal on my bed. “Did you know that I told the entire school that I caught her making out with a pillow?”

Peyton smiles. “Big deal. I’ve made out with my pillow before.”

My nose scrunches. “I didn’t need to know that, but what if everyone at school found out?”

Her eyes widen. “I’d kill you.”

“See? It’s not that it happened, which I don’t think it even did because she doesn’t mention that in her journal, just the aftermath of me telling people that it did. It was in seventh grade, and that’s the first night she—”

I snap my jaw shut. I’m ashamed of what I caused Piper to do, but that secret is hers to tell or keep, not mine.

“The first time she cut herself?” Peyton whispers.

I swallow to try to dislodge the lump in my throat, but I don’t think a semi-truck could move it at this point.

“Yeah. You knew about that?”

“I saw them after we swam in the pool. She didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Now you understand why I haven’t answered.”

Without warning, Peyton raises her hand and slaps me in the back of the head. “You’re so fucking stupid! She has forgiven you, and if she hasn’t, she was getting really close to it.”

“She should hate me.”

“And she did for a long time, but she doesn’t now. A girl that hates you wouldn’t have been up here naked in your room.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Unless you stripped her against her will.”

I roll my eyes at her, still rubbing the back of my head where she smacked me. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then you need to call her. You’re torturing yourself over what you’ve done, but it’s only hurting her more for you to ignore her.”

“It’s what’s best.”

“Did you explain that to her?”

“Sort of,” I mumble.

“What the hell does sort of even mean? You either had the conversation with her, or you didn’t.”

“She was still out when I did it.”

Like an asshole, she rears back and hits me again.

“She probably thinks you’re playing some sort of prank on her or that the last couple of weeks you’ve spent going after her was just part of some big joke.”

I shake my head. “It hasn’t been. I lo—”

“You love her. Yes, I know that, but does she?”

“I can’t tell her now!” I roar as I stand up from the bed and point an accusing finger down at the journals. “Look at what I’ve done to her! My love is tainted. The way I acted has ruined any chance for us.”

“Yet she was here, in your room with you, by choice. What does that tell you?”

My hands fist my hair, but I ignore the pain in my scalp when I pull. It pales in comparison to the agony in my chest.

“I’m no good for her.” A sob escapes my throat.

“Yet, you’re exactly who she wants.” Peyton crosses the room but stops short of touching me. I’m sure she can tell just how crazed I am right now. “The least you have to do is explain to her why you can’t be with her. Say it to her face instead of whispering it like a coward while she’s knocked out. Not doing so is only hurting her more, and by the way you’re acting right now, you have enough guilt from the pain you caused her.”

She walks out of the room, closing the door behind her, and once again I’m left alone with only my remorse and regret to keep me company.

Tags: Marie James Westover Prep Romance
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