CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Blake
I’d left Chloe’s last night and done what I’d told her I would do: I’d broken up with Hannah. It had been easier than I’d thought. Especially when she’d told me that she’d been fucking Will for the last six months. I could lie and say that I cared, but I just didn’t. And apparently, neither did she. “You’re the asshole, and I’m the girl with the heartless ex-boyfriend who dumped me for no good reason. Everyone’s going to take my side,” she’d said.
I’d gone running after that. I’d gotten home and tried to sleep, only to push the covers off, put my sneakers back on, and bail. I’d been unable to get Chloe out of my head.
Which was why I was currently at school, walking to my locker in a complete zombie state.
A roar of laughter pulled me out of my daze. I strolled over to where a crowd had formed in front of a bay of lockers. Since I was taller than most of the other students, I was able to see what everyone was looking at. The word Whore, spray-painted bright red on a locker.
“Excuse me.” The crowd parted. I knew her voice before I saw her face. And when I did, I wished I hadn’t. She brushed past me, her head down.
I tried to get her attention with my hand on her arm. “Chloe.”
She yanked it away. “It’s fine,” she mumbled, never looking up from the floor.
My fingers straightened, releasing their hold. The sadness in her tone caused an ache in my chest. Then she looked up at me, her glazed eyes locked with mine. Silence fell, or it could have just been in my head. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She just shook her head and walked away.
I followed her out to the parking lot, but by the time I got there, she was already in her car driving away.
I wanted to follow her and make sure she was okay, but Hannah was waiting for me at my car, which was odd because classes hadn’t even started yet. She must’ve known I’d be pissed about Chloe and would want to take off. Which meant that she knew what had happened to Chloe’s locker, even while she was out there, waiting for me to show up. I wanted to believe that it hadn’t been Hannah’s doing, but seeing her standing there, with a smug smirk on her face—there was no doubt. “You’re a bitch.”
“And your new girlfriend’s a whore.”
“Fuck you.”
My tires spun and screeched as I sped out of the school parking lot.
By the time I pulled up to the curb outside Chloe’s house, I had calmed myself down. I wanted to see her. No. I needed to see her. Only her car wasn’t there. And neither was anyone else’s. There was only one other place I knew to look, but she wasn’t at Clayton’s restaurant, either. I pressed the buzzer to Clayton’s apartment, and he appeared in the same disheveled state, the way I’d always seen him.
“She doesn’t want to see you.”
So she was there. “Maybe she can come down and tell me that herself.”
He raised his hands above his head and gripped the door frame. The muscles in his arms and shoulders bulged. He was a few years older than me, but I was taller. I wondered for a moment if I could take him, just long enough so I could run up to his apartment and see her. I looked over his shoulder, hoping for a glimpse of her, but all I saw were stairs.
He moved his head, blocking my view. “I don’t know what happened, but something obviously upset her. If you care about her at all—just give her some time. Some space. Okay?” He didn’t sound pissed, more like concerned. But he also didn’t wait for my answer before closing the door in my face.
Chloe
Skipping school was easy when you didn’t have parents that cared. Skipping work was also easy, although I might lose my job, considering I hadn’t even been there two weeks. I didn’t care. I didn’t need a job. I had money. The money I earned from the bowling alley was just going into a bank account for the kids so they’d have something from me when I left. The only thing that was hard—and that I couldn’t ignore—were my feelings for Blake.
I was falling for him.
Which was why when I pulled up to the house on Thursday afternoon and saw the kids in the driveway, skating around on new boards and wearing all the safety gear a kid could handle, my guilt increased tenfold.
“Where did all this come from?”
The kids stopped immediately. Mary stood up. “I don’t know,” she said, stopping next to me and putting her arm around my shoulders. “Damnedest thing. We got home, and it was all laid out on the porch. The kids’ names were attached to each set. Whoever got it must know the family well and care enough to buy the protective gear.”
I shrugged out of her hold and turned to her. “Yeah,” I agreed, pushing through the lump in my throat. “Maybe a little too much.”
“Maybe he’s just doing it to get in my pants.”
Clayton’s laugh grated on my nerves. “Sure, Chloe. If that’s all he wanted, then why break up with his girlfriend? Why not just score with you and keep it a secret?”
“I don’t even know if they broke up. It’s just what I heard from all the jerks who were standing around my whore-painted locker, laughing at me.”
“So you haven’t spoken to him about it?”
“No!” I huffed. “What am I supposed to say to him? That he did it for nothing? That I can’t be the girl to replace her? That he’d have had better luck just scoring with me and moving on?”
He chuckled under his breath.
“What’s funny?”
He shook his head, his eyes wide, but his smile stayed in place.
I slumped down onto the sofa and watched him set two coffees on the table.
“I don’t know.” He sat down next to me. “Seems like he cares about you.”
“That’s the problem, Clay.”
He laughed again.
“You’re not helping.”
“Fine. He’s a jerk. An asshole. How dare he show any sign of caring? Or friendship? What a dick. Did I say he was a jerk? We should go egg his car.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
He hid his smile by taking a sip of his coffee.