One-Eighty (Westover Prep 1)

“Wanna switch rooms?” I ask, instead of explaining my presence in her space.

She chuckles as she steps further into the room. She comes to stand beside me, her eyes also glued to the side of Piper’s house. “You’ve asked me that same question a million times.”

“I have?” It seems I’m not entirely different. Some things have remained the same, even after the accident.

“Yep,” she answers. “Especially since Piper’s boobs showed up.”

My cheeks heat, and I don’t know if I’m embarrassed for being so transparent or if it’s because my younger sister realizes my perversion.

“It has the best light,” I argue like an idiot. I have no damn clue about light angles or sunshine infiltrations and telling from the incredulous snort that erupts from my sister, she’s well aware that I don’t either.

“She’s never going to like you,” Peyton says as she steps away and sits on the corner of her bed.

“I don’t even remember being a jerk to her,” I remind her.

“And she’ll never be able to forget. You were cruel to her, and your friends are just as bad.”

My brows scrunch together. I hate hearing about the past, especially since there isn’t a damn thing I can do to change it.

“I’m not like that anymore,” I argue. “She can’t hate me forever.”

“If you think that, you don’t have a clue about a girl’s ability to hold a grudge. Give up on Piper, Dalton. It’s never going to happen.”

“Tell me about her,” I say rather than agreeing to back off.

My sister’s frown deepens, but she doesn’t seem annoyed, just resigned that I’m not planning to give up any time soon.

“She’s a straight-A student, ranked number one in your class. She’s probably going to get a full-ride scholarship to her college of choice. I don’t think she wants to be a doctor like her dad, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she goes to medical school anyway.”

“Why would she become a doctor if that’s not what she wants?”

The concept doesn’t make sense to me.

“She’s a people pleaser.” She sighs. “For example, she doesn’t want to be stuck coming over here every day seeing you, but she didn’t turn Mom down when she asked. She does shit she doesn’t want to do to make those around her happy.”

“That’s fucked up,” I mumble.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “She spends a lot of time at the library. I think she tutors there or leads the children’s storytime or something like that, teaching kids to read.”

This is all great information to have, but I really need to know what I did to her to make her life miserable, call it penance, or even a way to possibly correct some of my misdeeds.

“How did I treat her?”

“Like shit,” she answers without pause.

“Can you be more specific?”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know everything. I’m just now heading into high school, and we weren’t exactly close before the accident.”

“But, you know some things, right?”

“I know that you and your friends made fun of her the day she started her period in junior high. You’ve called her Bloody Mary since that day.”

So that’s where Kyle’s name for her came from.

My nose crinkles. “Really?”

“That’s not even the worst thing.”

I get the feeling I’m not going to like the rest of the information my sister is about to lay at my feet, but instead of telling her I’ve heard enough, I insist she goes on.

“What else?”

“You filled her car with trash from the park. Your friends throw food at her in the cafeteria. You even sprayed her with a water hose the same day you two got in the wreck. She showed up here to iron out our tutoring details, looking amazing, and when she walked past you in the driveway, you turned the water hose on her. You were a real bastard.”

Peyton is right. I was a complete asshole. But how do I convince Piper that I’m no longer that guy?

“I’m pretty sure you or one of your friends posted videos online of her doing embarrassing things, and I know for a fact that you’ve messed with her assignments so she’d get horrible grades.”

“Jesus,” I mutter.

“And that’s only the things I know about,” she says with a heavy sigh. “Like I said, you were a complete asshole.”

“I’m not that person anymore,” I argue once again. How many times do I need to say it before people actually start to believe it?

“Good luck convincing her of that.”Chapter 12Piper“Can we talk?”

I don’t even acknowledge him as I walk past.

I’ve been here all day, and somehow, he’s managed to stay in his room and away from Peyton and me while I tutored her.

I continue to ignore him as I head to the kitchen to pack up my things for the day.

“Piper?” he pleads. “Can we please talk?”

There’s sincerity in his tone, but I’m no fool. I won’t fall for whatever game he’s playing. I did that once in fourth grade, and it came back to bite me on the rear.