After (After 1)

Chapter fifty-two

When Hardin finally breaks our kiss, he sits on my bed and I join him.

We’re quiet for a few minutes, so I begin to feel nervous, like there is some way I should be behaving now that we are . . . more, but I have no clue what way that is.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?” he asks.

“Nothing, just studying,” I say.

“Cool.” He clicks his tongue onto the roof of his mouth. He seems nervous, too, and I am glad it isn’t just me.

“Come here.” Hardin beckons me and opens his arms.

The moment I sit on his lap, the door opens and he groans. Steph, Tristan, and Nate all pour in and then stare at us as I climb off Hardin and sit on the other side of the bed.

“So are you guys like fuck buddies now?” Nate says plainly.

“No! We aren’t!” I squeak. I don’t know what I should tell them, so I just wait for Hardin to say something. He stays quiet as Tristan and Nate begin to talk to him about the party last night.

“It seems I didn’t miss much,” Hardin says to them, and Nate shrugs.

“Until Molly gave us a strip show; she got completely naked, you should have been there,” Nate replies. I cringe and look toward Steph, who is staring at Tristan, probably hoping he isn’t going to comment on Molly being naked.

Hardin smiles. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

I gasp, then try to conceal it as a cough. He did not just say that.

His face falls, seeming to understand what he just did.

Maybe this was a terrible idea; it is already sort of awkward, and now that everyone is in the room it’s magnified. Why didn’t he tell them we were dating? Are we dating? I don’t really understand, myself. I thought after his confession that we were, but we never actually said it. Maybe we don’t need to? This uncertainty is already driving me crazy; the entire time I have been with Noah I have never had to worry about his feelings for me. I never had to deal with ex-friends with benefits—I am the only girl Noah has ever kissed in his life, and honestly I like it that way. I wish Hardin had never done anything with another girl, or at least had done things with fewer of them.

“We’re going bowling after I change. Do you want to come?” Steph asks and I shake my head.

“I have to catch up on my studying. I have barely gotten any done this weekend,” I tell her and look away as the memories of this weekend flood through my mind.

“You should come, it will be fun,” Hardin says, but I shake my head. I really need to stay in, and I was sort of hoping he would stay with me. Steph steps into the closet and returns a few minutes later with different clothes on.

“Ready, guys? You’re sure you don’t want to come?” she asks me.

I nod. “I’m sure.”

They all get up to leave, and Hardin gives me a wave and a small smile before exiting the room. I’m disappointed with Hardin’s goodbye, and hope that he’d made these plans before this weekend together and the drama today.

But what did I expect? For him to rush over and kiss me, tell me he would miss me? I laugh at the thought. I don’t know if anything will even change between Hardin and me besides us actively trying to avoid one another. I am too used to how things are with Noah, so I have no idea how this is going to be, and I hate not having control over every situation.

After an hour of studying and attempting to take a nap, I grab my phone to text Hardin. Wait, I don’t even have his number. I had never thought about it before; we have never talked on the phone or texted before. We never needed to; we couldn’t stand each other. This is going to be more complicated than I thought.

I call my mother to catch up with her, and mostly to see if Noah has told her what happened yet. He would be arriving back home soon from the two-hour drive, and I am sure he won’t waste any time telling her everything. She answers with a simple hello, so I know she has no clue yet. I tell her about my failed attempt to get a car, and the possible internship with Vance. Of course, she reminds me that I have been at college over a month and I still haven’t found a car. I roll my eyes and let her continue to ramble on about what she has been doing the last week. My phone lights up while I am listening to her. I place her on speakerphone and read the text.

You should have come with us, with me, the message reads. My heart swells; it’s Hardin.

Pretending to listen to my mother, I mumble “Hmm . . . oh . . .” a few times while I text him back.

You should have stayed, I send. I stare at the screen, waiting for him to reply.

I am coming to pick you up, he replies after what seems like forever.

What? No, I don’t want to go bowling, you’re already there. Just stay.

I already left. Be ready. Boy, he’s demanding, even through text messages.

My mother is still talking and I have no idea what about. I stopped listening once Hardin texted me. “Mom, I will call you back,” I interrupt.

“Why?” she asks with surprise and disdain.

“I . . . um . . . well, I spilled coffee on my notes. I gotta go.”

I hang up and hastily go into the closet, pulling Hardin’s pajamas off and grabbing my new jeans and a plain purple top. I brush out my hair, which looks decent considering it hasn’t been washed. I check the time and go down to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and when I return Hardin is waiting on my bed.

“Where were you?” he asks.

“Brushing my teeth,” I tell him and put my toiletry bag away.

“Ready?” He stands up and walks toward me. I half expect him to hug me, but he doesn’t. He just moves to the door.