Loser: A Dark College Bully Romance (Hillcrest University Book 1) Page 11

  “Declan,” I spoke his name, feeling the need to tell him exactly what happened tonight. Which was stupid, I knew. I didn’t owe Declan anything, yet I couldn’t bear to leave it like this. I didn’t want to spend all weekend avoiding my roommate, or the rest of the year, for that matter.

  Declan acted as though he didn’t hear me. His headphones were sitting beside his laptop, so I knew there was no noise-canceling going on. He was just ignoring me.

  Well too damn bad. I was not going to be ignored.

  I walked over to him, shutting his laptop, leaning around his chair and forcing him to look at me. “You’re not going to ignore me,” I told him, practically looming over him. “I didn’t sleep with Sawyer.” When his eyes flicked downward, away from my face, I could tell he didn’t believe me.

  Had I ever met someone so infuriating? Someone who made me want to yank out my own hair and scream? Declan was being impossible, and it was aggravating me so much I could strangle him.

  “Hey,” I said, louder this time even though his ear was less than a foot from my head. I gave him a gentle slap on the back of his head. Finally his black gaze returned to mine, a tiny frown on his face. “I didn’t, and if you don’t believe me, that’s your issue, not mine. You know Sawyer would say anything to get to you, so why the hell would you believe anything he says?”

  Declan exhaled, slightly turning his body toward mine. “But you said…”

  “I know what I said. I said it because no one at the party would’ve believed me if I denied it. You don’t even believe me, and you’re my roomie. You’re supposed to believe me.” Actually, he wasn’t supposed to, mostly because of the whole I was his friend but he wasn’t mine thing.

  Damn it.

  “Trust me, I wouldn’t touch Sawyer with a ten-foot pole,” I went on. “And that kiss? He only did that to make you upset. Honestly, Declan, I have no idea why you’re so upset. It isn’t like I’m your girlfriend.” Uh, probably not the best thing to say to the bipolar boy who showed me his manic side today.

  His eyes dropped to the floor, staring holes into the carpet between us. “I know. I just…I don’t know. It’s stupid, but I don’t want Sawyer to get his hands on you.”

  “Why does it matter? I’m an adult, and I can make my own decisions.” I had to make Declan realize that it wasn’t okay for him to just fly off the handle any time Sawyer so much as looked at me. And Travis…the next time I saw him, I’d be having words with him about that picture. These boys were not going to use me like a pawn.

  “I know,” he said again. “I know you are.”

  “Then treat me like one. Don’t act like I’m yours. I’m not yours, Declan, and I’m not Sawyer’s—and I’m not going to keep being in the middle of whatever this is. I’m my own person, and I don’t like being used, by you or by anyone.”

  His dark eyes were measured in lifting to mine, his stare zeroed in on me in a way that made my stomach flip. Such a sad, sorrowful look. I hated when he looked at me like that, as if his whole world had been taken away, like I was the one bright spot in his life. “I would never use you,” Declan whispered. “Never.”

  Even though I wasn’t sure what to believe, I found myself believing him. He was either a really good liar, or he was too prone to let his emotions take charge. Staring at him right now made my heart hurt; I wished I could help him, wished I could fix him…but sometimes when you’re broken, there’s no such thing as a fix. A torn up photograph was never the same, even with tape.

  “I’m sorry,” Declan added, still holding my stare. And then he did something that was so sudden, so out of the blue, all I could do was stiffen and breathe in response. Actually, no, I didn’t think I could even breathe properly when he did what he did next.

  He leaned his head down, resting it on my shoulder. One of his arms remained locked in place on his desk, but the other, the one closest to me, gingerly rested on my lower back. Hugging me. He was hugging me…I think.

  His breath was hot on my neck, and he whispered again, “I’m sorry.” His voice broke on the last word, and I closed my eyes.

  How the hell was I supposed to respond to this? After everything, I was still pissed at him, but it was hard to remain ticked off when he sounded so broken, so defeated. His shoulders were slumped, his whole body leaning into mine.

  Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the real Declan, or if the real Declan was the one at the party.

  It was ridiculously difficult to keep my guard up when he sounded so depressed. Though it was probably a bad idea, I wrapped my arms around him, one of them around his shoulders and the other against his head, cradling him to me somewhat.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered, even though it wasn’t.

  Would you look at that. I said I wasn’t a liar, and here these guys were, making me into one. Didn’t bode well for the rest of the year, did it?

  The truth was none of this was okay. Absolutely none of it. I had to remember from now on that these guys didn’t care about me. Declan only sort of liked me because I reminded him of his dead girlfriend. Sawyer only wanted to sleep with me to hurt Declan, since it was obvious I wasn’t going to be like everyone else here and side with him. And Travis…I didn’t know what to think of Travis, not yet. I knew he’d brought Declan to the party on purpose, but I didn’t know why.

  None of them were normal. None of them were good for my health and my sanity; I knew it, and you’d think that fact would stop me from feeling anything towards them.

  Maybe I was just as crazy as they were. Maybe I was the biggest glutton for punishment around. How else could I explain the weird, indescribable feelings rising inside of me? I didn’t want to be caught in the middle, didn’t want to witness the drama constantly unfolding. That much was true, but those boys…

  No, those men—they were like drugs, and I wanted to use them all, even though they were all bad for me. Sawyer, Travis, Declan, the whole mystery surrounding Sabrina and Hillcrest, all the rich students and their judgment.

  This place, these guys…they just might kill me.

  Chapter Fifteen – Ash

  Kelsey was not happy with me. I hadn’t gone to any other party after the first one, preferring to spend my Friday nights and weekends tucked away in my room with Declan. I wasn’t even sure how many weeks it’d been, and I constantly had Kelsey texting me, asking me if there were any possible boyfriends or if I’d hooked up with any rich hotties yet. I loved Kelsey, but sometimes she could be a little much.

  And as for hooking up, how the hell was I supposed to focus on hooking up when I was constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering when Sawyer or Travis would swoop in and try to use me to their benefit again? It was clear I meant nothing to them, which only made me feel prickly when my lower gut, and other parts of me, warmed when I thought about them. I shouldn’t want to see them, to talk to them, but I did.

  I so did, and it so totally sucked.

  Declan had been pretty quiet these last few weeks. We’d both focused intently on our schoolwork, but sometimes I’d get him to loosen up and eat with me. I’d yet to get him to leave the room and join me in the student union; I always had to bring the food back by myself, but I hoped we’d get there.

  Of course, every other day I returned to the room to find something new taped to our door. A new note scribbled in red marker, or makeshift nooses. One day someone had hung a Barbie doll with some yarn and duct-taped it to the door. That had peeled off some paint, which I only assumed we’d be charged for come the end of the year when we moved out, but that would be a problem for the future Ash.

  The current Ash was tasked with writing a ten-page research paper on the psychology of aging, which was something the current Ash did not want to do. Even though I didn’t often leave the room on Wednesday nights, I found myself telling Declan I was picking us up Chinese for dinner at the union. I grabbed my skateboard and headed down the stairs, skating the moment I was outside and on the sidewalk.

  It was nearly se
ven, which was a bit late for dinner. I’d told myself I’d reward myself when I wrote half of the paper, but as you can see, it didn’t work. I couldn’t focus on an empty stomach. The daylight was darkening with each passing second, the sky turning into a beautiful assortment of oranges and reds. Hillcrest always seemed to have pretty temperate weather. There hadn’t been many rainy days yet. I knew the year was just starting, though.

  The moment I made it to the union, my phone started to ring. I hopped off the skateboard, kicking the end up. As my fingers grabbed it and tucked it into the crook of my elbow, my other hand went for my phone. Helen Bonds was calling.

  I kept outside, moving to one of the benches in front of the giant building, answering it with a smile, even though she couldn’t see it, “Hey, Mom. What’s up?” My mom and I texted a bit, but we weren’t hardcore about it. We weren’t one of those families that had to talk every single day, which was nice. It gave me some freedom.

  “Oh, nothing, nothing. Just calling to see how you’re doing,” she said. “How’s the school work coming along? Staying on top of all of your assignments?” It was as if Mom knew I was procrastinating tonight.

  “I’m actually taking a break from a paper right now to pick up dinner.” As I spoke, I watched some students walk by. They tried not to stare at me, but they failed miserably. Most everyone had heard about what happened at Sawyer’s party, and most everyone steered clear of me now, like Sawyer had marked me.

  It was infuriating and very annoying, but ultimately fine. If they were so quick to follow what Sawyer had said, they weren’t worth my time anyway.

  “What’s for dinner?” she asked, sounding genuinely interested.

  “Chinese.”

  “I hope you’re exercising,” Helen muttered. The freshman fifteen had been a horror story I’d heard for years. Considering I was on the skinny side, I didn’t think I had to worry about it too much. “How’s your roommate?”

  I held in a groan. “He’s fine, Mom. Really. We’re getting along.” My mom, for some strange reason, was completely convinced Declan was going to try something with me, because all boys, and men by extension, only thought about one thing. Sex. What my mom didn’t know was that I’d already had sex. Lots of sex. Sex wasn’t new to me—but I would never tell her that, and she didn’t need to know about the whole Sabrina thing. Honestly, I tried avoiding the Declan subject anytime my mom called me.

  It was a moment before Helen asked, “And has he…you know?”

  I was tempted to ask her to clarify what she meant by you know, but then I imagined how cringe-worthy that conversation would be, so I didn’t. Plus, it was impossible to not know what my mom meant by you know. With that insinuating tone of voice, everybody could decipher what she meant.

  “Mom, no. I swear I would tell you if he did try anything. He’s a—” I hated fibbing like this to my mom, but in this case, it had to be done. “—he’s a gentleman. He’s really nice.” He was nice, but he was off in his own little world half the time. Ever since the night of the party, he’d been putting up walls between us. He was ashamed of how he’d acted, which I couldn’t blame. He’d been kind of a dick, even if we did end the night by hugging and him saying I’m sorry on repeat.

  “Just because he’s the dean’s son doesn’t mean he gets a free pass to do whatever he wants,” my mom went on, her usual rant when it came to Declan.

  “He doesn’t do whatever he wants, Mom. He’s fine. Really.” Ugh. How many times was I going to have to say it? I could spend the whole year living with him without incident, and on the day of the move out, she’d treat him as suspiciously as she would someone walking out of the local department store wearing a dozen layers of clothing. I bet years down the road she’d still bring him up, holding her nose up high and muttering stuff about how she didn’t trust him.

  An exaggeration, but still. For Helen, it would hold true.

  “Okay,” Helen said after a while. I could tell just by the tone of her voice she didn’t quite believe me. Anyone with a dick was the devil in her eyes, no good and rotten. Based on what happened to us when I was four, when my dad ran off, I couldn’t blame her for thinking that way. “I’ll let you go, honey. I just wanted to check in. When do you think you’ll be coming home next?”

  I was pretty sure we had off next Monday, but I wasn’t certain whether or not I wanted to go home. I mean, we were a month into the semester. I didn’t miss home that much. Kelsey, yes, home…sorry, but no. And there was the whole thing with making my mom drive so far just to get me, since I didn’t have a car of my own. I didn’t want to make her do it any more than she had to. Thanksgiving, Christmas; that’s it. Maybe Easter, if we had any time off for that.

  “I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “I’ll let you know, though, okay?” We exchanged goodbyes, the necessary I love yous, and then I hung up, staring at my phone screen for a while. Why did I always get a bit sad when talking to her?

  Hmm. Maybe it was because this whole Hillcrest thing was not going how I thought it would. Being the only girl in a college full of guys? I thought it’d be tough, but fun. This was just tough, no fun thrown into the mix. No fun at all. Nothing but drama, drama, drama. Honestly, I hated it. If there was one thing I could do without in my life, it was drama.

  I heaved a sigh, leaning my head back. The sky had started to darken, the oranges and reds turning into dark purples. Soon enough it’d turn a charcoal gray, then a black, full of small, sparkling dots, stars in the far, far distance. I liked staring up at the sky. When I started to feel like the whole world revolved around me, it was a good reminder that I was a hell of a lot smaller than I thought I was.

  I sat there for a few minutes, sighing again when I got up and slid my phone into my back pocket. I headed towards the doors to the union, but my feet slowed when I saw someone smoking fifty feet away, not even in a designated smoking area. Travis was too cool to care, apparently.

  He had his back to me, so he hadn’t seen me. I could theoretically waltz into the union, get the food, and leave through one of the union’s many side entrances, and Travis would never know.

  But that was just plain silly, because I had a bone to pick with him. A big bone. A giant fucking bone I wanted to whack him across the head with while yelling at him.

  I stormed up to him, moving silently as I could while holding my skateboard. His head was tilted upwards, the wind gently caressing his short, blue-black hair. The air around him was wrought with smoke, and I inhaled a deep lungful of it as I tapped on the back of his shoulder. He spun around, a smile on his face when he saw me.

  That smile faded the moment I snatched the cigarette out of his hand and threw it on the ground, stomping on it to snuff it out. “Hey,” he said, sounding bored. “That was rude.”

  “Do you know what else was rude? What you did at that party,” I rattled off, not even giving him the chance to make a guess. I’d spent the last few weeks stewing over what Travis did, hating myself for the crushes I had on these guys, and going over what I would say once I saw him again.

  The bastard had to be laying low for a reason. He knew I was pissed.

  Travis stuck both his hands in his pockets, giving me a million-dollar smile. “What did I do at the party? You’ll have to remind me. It was a while ago. My memory isn’t that good.” Bullshit line after bullshit line. Travis was the sort of person who knew how to lie; he was too smooth otherwise. How else could I have fallen into his lull when we were sitting outside staring up at the constellation-filled night sky?

  I glared at him. Even though we stood with two feet between us, it wasn’t enough space. All my mind could think about was running a hand up each of his arms, tracing each and every tattoo on his body. It was hard holding myself back, let me tell you.

  “You know exactly what you did,” I hissed. Other students walked around us, and I quieted. It was only after we were relatively alone again that I said, “You did what you did to start drama. I don’t like drama, Travis.”

/>   His blue eyes fell to my feet, slowly trailing upwards, taking in every aspect of my appearance. His lips were parted slightly, and I resisted my urge to shiver. The look he gave me—it was hungry. There was no other word for it. “That’s not why I did it, Ash.” So simple, so easy, as if the real answer was right in front of my face all along.

  Hint: it wasn’t.

  “Then tell me,” I said. I would’ve crossed my arms had I not been holding onto my skateboard. As it was, I debated on whether or not I should hit him with it. No, no, I shouldn’t. I’d get suspended or something. Dean Briggs would take away his sponsorship and I’d be forced to pay for Hillcrest at full price.

  No physical violence, Ash. Not while other people could see, at least.

  “Are you sure you want to know? You might not like the answer,” Travis warned me.

  I let out an annoyed sound. “I’ve had it with you guys. You all think you’re hot shit, but in reality—”

  He spoke as if I wasn’t in the middle of a rant, cutting me off easily, as if he interrupted people all the time, “I did it because I didn’t want you to fall for Sawyer.”

  My comeback died. “What?” I had a hard time believing him, when the person who it hurt most was Declan. Declan was the one who unraveled that night, not Sawyer. Granted, I hadn’t been with Sawyer after the party, but I could only assume he spent the rest of the night balls-deep in some other girl. He wasn’t lacking willing volunteers.

  Honestly, what did sending a picture of me and Sawyer do to make me not fall for Sawyer? It didn’t make sense. It boggled my freaking mind. I wanted to slap the fool right out of this idiot.

  “You saw how ugly he was when Declan was there,” Travis went on. “I thought you should see the real Sawyer, not the Sawyer he puts on for show. He’s unstable.” A simple fact, as if everyone who’d ever met Sawyer knew that.