After (After 1)

My body wants to freeze like a deer in headlights; the only thing that makes it possible for me to climb off him is the fact that I refuse to let him see me cry, again.

“You’re disgusting,” I say bitterly and grab my stuff from the floorboards and my phone from the seat. Hardin looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. “Stay away from me from now on—I mean it!” I shout, and he closes his eyes.

I walk as fast as I can to my building, to my room, somehow managing to hold in my tears until I get inside and shut the door. I am so grateful Steph’s gone as I slide down the door and break into sobs. How could I be so stupid? I knew how he was when I agreed to be alone with him, yet I practically jumped at the opportunity. Just because he was nice to me today, I got it into my head that what—that he would be my boyfriend? I laugh through my sobs at how stupid and naïve I am. I really can’t even be angry with Hardin. He told me he doesn’t date, but today we had such a nice time. He was actually pleasant and playful, and I thought we were really building a relationship of some kind.

But it was all an act, just so he could get into my pants. And I let him.

Chapter twenty-seven

My tears dry, and I am showered and somewhat mentally stable by the time Steph returns from the movies.

“So, how was your . . . hangout with Hardin?” she asks and grabs her pajamas out of her dresser.

“It was okay, he was his normal . . . charming self,” I tell her and manage a laugh. I want to tell her about what we did, but I’m too ashamed. I know she wouldn’t judge me, and despite wanting to be able to tell someone, I also really don’t want anyone to know.

Steph looks at me with concern evident in her eyes, and I have to look away. “Just be careful, okay; you’re too nice for someone like Hardin.”

I want to hug her and cry into her shoulder but instead ask, “How was the movie?” to change the subject. She tells me how Tristan kept feeding her popcorn and that she is really starting to like him. I want to gag, but I know I am just jealous because Tristan actually likes her in a way Hardin doesn’t like me. But I remind myself that I do have someone who loves me and that I need to start treating him better and stay away from Hardin—for real this time.

THE NEXT MORNING I’m drained. I have no energy and feel like I could cry at any moment. My eyes are red and puffy from crying last night, so I walk over to Steph’s dresser and grab her makeup bag. I pull out brown eyeliner and draw a thin line under my eyes and on my eyelid. It makes my eyes look much better. I put a little powder under my eyes to give my skin a little color. A few swipes of mascara and I look like a new person. Pleased with the way I look, I put on my tight jeans and a tank top. Still feeling naked, I grab a white cardigan out of my closet. This is the most effort I have made in my appearance for a regular school day since picture day my senior year of high school.

Landon texts me that we’ll have to meet in class, so when I stop by the coffeehouse I grab him a drink, too. I’m still pretty early to class, so I walk slower than usual.

“Hey, Tessa, right?” I hear a guy’s voice say. I look over and see a preppy boy coming my way.

“Yeah, Logan, right?” I ask him, and he nods.

“You coming over again this weekend?” he asks. He must be part of the frat; of course he is, he’s preppy and gorgeous.

“Oh, no, not this weekend.” I laugh and he joins in.

“Bummer, you were fun. Well, if you change your mind, you know where it is. I gotta go, but I’ll see you around.” Giving me a fake little tip of the hat, he walks away.

In class, Landon is already seated and thanks me repeatedly for bringing him coffee. “You look different today,” he says as I sit down.

“I put makeup on,” I joke and he smiles. He doesn’t ask about my night with Hardin and I am grateful. I’m not sure what I would say to him.

Just as the day gets pleasant, and I begin to stop thinking about Hardin, it’s time for Literature.

HARDIN SITS IN HIS NORMAL SEAT in the front. He’s wearing a white T-shirt for once and it’s thin enough that his tattoos are visible underneath it. It amazes me how attractive I find his tattoos and piercings when I’ve never cared for either before. I look away quickly, sit down in my usual seat next to him, and pull out my notes. I’m not giving up my great seat because of one rude boy. Still, I hope Landon arrives soon so I won’t feel so alone with Hardin.

“Tess?” Hardin whispers as the class begins to fill up.

No. Don’t answer him. Ignore him, I repeat to myself.

“Tess?” he says again, this time louder.

“Do not speak to me, Hardin,” I say through my teeth. I avoid looking at him. I will not fall back into his trap.

“Oh come on,” he says, and I can tell he thinks this is all funny.

My tone is harsh but I don’t care: “I mean it, Hardin, leave me alone.”

“Fine, have it your way,” he says equally harshly, and I sigh.

Landon walks in and I am so grateful. Seeing the tension between Hardin and me, he asks in his kind tone, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie, and class begins.

HARDIN AND I continue ignoring each other all week, and each day that passes without talking to him makes it a little easier to not think about him so much. Steph and Tristan have been hanging out all week, so I’ve had our room mostly to myself, which has been both good and bad. Good because I get a lot of studying done, but bad because I am left alone with my thoughts about Hardin. All week I have been wearing a little bit more makeup, but still my baggy and conservative clothes. By Friday morning, I feel like I am really over this whole mess with Hardin. That is, until everyone keeps talking about partying at the frat house. Seriously, there is a party there every Friday—and usually Saturday, too—so why they feel the need to get excited about it every weekend blows my mind.