No, Bexley hadn’t. She’d said she was coming here to her mom, not knowing I was walking past her in the store, and I’d stopped and offered her a ride. I wanted to stay away from her, but I couldn’t stop myself at the same time. She’d tried to decline, but her mom was the one who’d said yes.
I wasn’t touching how relieved I’d been when I’d left, knowing I was going to be in a car alone with her for a measly ten-minute drive.
Sighing, I threw the rest of the beer that I couldn’t stomach anymore into the flames and made a note to come back in the morning to pick it up. “I offered her a ride, Renna. Just leave it alone.”
Her arms dropped, and then she took a deep breath in that meant she was going to rant.
“What does that mean? That you’re dumping me? Really? We’re seven weeks away from graduating, prom is soon, and you’re my date for it. And what about college? We’re leaving to start our lives together away from this shit hole.”
I’d never mentioned prom, college, nada, but Renna was the queen of drama and twisting shit. The only reason we’d last this long was because I was a teenager with hormones, and she’d been interested.
Yeah, I was that big of an asshole, but there’d been numerous occasions when she’d fucked other guys, so I’d just kept us as we were, relieved it wouldn’t lead to some sort of expectation that I couldn’t fulfill.
Until now.
Something had changed, and I didn’t know what it was, but the casual arrangement we’d agreed on had morphed into something crazy in her brain.
I was just so fucking tired of the drama and bullshit, and her screeching it all out for everyone to hear was the final straw.
Standing up, I let it all out, forgetting we had an audience as I said what I needed to.
“Dumping is too formal a word to use for what we have together, but I’ll make it clear just in case. Whatever we have together is over. It’s been over for a while, but we just never said the words, and that’s on me. We were never going to go to college together, never going to be more than this,” I gestured between us.
Mimicking my stance, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. “It’s because of her, isn’t it?”
That’s when I snapped. “No, it’s not because of Bexley. How many times do I have to tell you the only reason she even registers in my life is because of our families? She’s nothing to me, a no one. Where do you think the money came from for me to take you out on dates? I get paid to drive her around and do shit with her.”
I didn’t hear the gasp that came from the girl we were discussing, who’d walked up behind me to tell me she was leaving. If I had, I’d have turned around and seen the devastation on her face as she fought back tears and done everything I could to take it back, regardless of how many people saw me doing it.
I was just too focused on ending this bullshit.
“You fuck other guys. Where in your mind does that make us an emotionally invested and committed couple? No, Renna, it’s over. I hope you have a good life.”
I said the last bit as I turned around to walk back to my car, meaning that I frowned when I saw Layla Townsend holding a crying Renna.
And I totally missed Mark Montgomery’s fist as it flew toward my face, making contact with my eye and knocking me out cold.
Six weeks later…
Bexley
“Honey,” Mom said quietly as I sat on the steps watching my dad and his dad laugh about something as they turned meat on the barbecue. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m worried about you.”
Picking at the label on the unopened bottle of sparkling water in my hand, I shrugged and watched the bubbles moving around inside it.
“You didn’t go to prom, you’ve stayed home every night for the last six weeks, you don’t go to any of the games at school when Logan plays—”
“Don’t mention his name,” I hissed, squeezing the bottle.
Shuffling closer, she leaned her head closer to mine. “Logan? What did he do?”
“I know you paid him,” I rasped and then choked out a laugh. “Everyone at school knows y’all paid him to hang out with me and give me rides. I’m that chick, the chick a guy gets money to hang out with.”
“I never gave him a dime,” she argued, sounding incredulous. “Why did he say that?”
Feeling only slightly better about it all, I opened the abused bottle and took a mouthful.
Once the sharp feeling from the bubbles left my throat, I shook my head to clear it. “I don’t know. All I know is that he said it, so whoever who was at the party heard it. Now everyone at school knows, and I can’t even list all the names I’ve been called, including Bexley Hooker.”