Breaking the Rules (Pushing the Limits 1.50)

With a tic of my jaw, I cram my hands into my jean pockets, and Isaiah releases me. He never disengages his glare as he digs the keys out of his pocket and hands them to Beth.

Beth’s fingers curl around Echo’s keys. “I never thought you were an asshole, Noah. Damaged. But not an asshole.”

“I didn’t sleep with Mia.” I overpronounce the words.

I’d welcome a million of Beth’s death stares over the disappointment in her eyes. “No, but you slept with Echo.”

My eyes briefly slam shut. I never told them. I never told anyone. But what I said to Echo was true. Isaiah and Beth noticed the difference. I promised Echo we wouldn’t change after we made love, but we did.

Everything changed.

“When you did what you did with Echo...” Beth hesitates because speaking emotions is unfamiliar for her. “You don’t get to play by the same rules as before. She deserves more than that. She deserves better.”

I nod, telling her I get it. “I fucked up.”

“You did.” Beth won’t look at me. “I’ll take care of her.”

With that, the last person I would have thought would be in Echo’s corner walks out into the dark night.

Echo

I lie on top of the covers of the made bed and watch as the room falls into darkness then illuminates with light every other second. How long I’ve been lying like this or how long Beth’s been messing with the light next to the bed, I don’t know, but I’m just now finding it annoying.

“Can you stop that?” I snap.

Beth clicks the light off then back on. I glance over at her, and she tosses the electrical wire that contains the switch onto the bedside table. “So my plan worked.”

I’m too miserable to have to deal with Beth. “What plan?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not happy,” I mutter.

Beth slides her legs off the other bed and dangles them off the side. “See, that’s part of your problem. You don’t get pissed nearly enough. You’re always trying to be proper.”

I’m about to shove her proper into very unproper places. “I change my mind. Play with the light and be silent.”

“Now, slapping Noah—classic move. I rate it a seven. But you should have kicked him in the nuts. That was a nut-cracking moment.”

A rush of anger causes me to rise off the bed and mirror her position. “Do you think this is funny?”

Her lips turn up in that evil smirk that I’ve come to detest with the same fervor as people who kick puppies. “You’re mad at me now, right?”

“Yes!” I scream. “I’m mad at you. You hate me. I hate you. You treat me like crap, and I forever take it. You and I can’t stand the sight of one another! Are you happy now?”

“Not really.” Beth appears to shrink as if my words were razor blades. “But you don’t hurt now, do you?”

A painful slice at my soul as my breath catches. For a brief few seconds, I didn’t hurt. I wasn’t replaying tonight or any other night for the past week with Noah. I wasn’t reviewing every disappointed and sarcastic comment from my father when I asked for Noah’s bail. I wasn’t thinking that while Noah made love to me, he had been hanging out with a girl he had previously slept with.

Especially when I told him my fear—that I wouldn’t measure up to any of the girls he had left behind...or I thought he had left behind.

“Anger’s better,” says Beth quietly. “Anger is like a fortified wall no one can penetrate. Hurt—it’s a doormat—and it lets everyone walk all over you.”

“I don’t hate you,” I whisper. “That was mean to say.”

“But it’s true.”

“It’s not.”